To Capture a Thorn (The Society 2)
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“I do. You’re an amazing guy, Dante. Thank you.”
This made me smile. I was going to take the compliment any way I could get it.
Pulling into my parking space, I turned off the ignition. We both got out of the car. Sian grabbed some groceries, and I picked up the rest. Locking the car, we made our way toward my place, and I typed in my code like I had the first time I’d brought her here.
That seemed like a lifetime ago that I brought her here.
So much shit had happened since then.
One look at Sian, and I knew she felt the same way. So much crap happening, and not enough time to process it all.
We went straight up to my art space. In the corner, I had a small table already set up that I mostly used for my art supplies.
“Here, let me move stuff,” I said.
“You don’t have to. We can set up on the floor.” She moved to the far wall where there were no blank canvases or paints.
“You’re sure?”
She had already started to take out some of the snacks. “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t want to do it.” She gave me a small smile.
Throwing my keys onto the table, I joined her. I grabbed my cell phone from my back pocket and sent a quick text to the guys to let them know we’d arrived safely.
I immediately got one back from William, offering me good luck with an emoji wink.
Rolling my eyes, I put my phone on the floor and reached for the bagel with cream cheese and lots of sliced beef as I hated smoked salmon.
Sian had already unwrapped it for me and I took a large bite.
“This is nice,” she said.
“Gideon said you want to get your hair done?” I asked.
She fingered one of the hacked locks. “Yeah, I do.”
“Why have you changed your mind?” Some of the cream cheese had squished out of the side of the sandwich, and I used my thumb to wipe it off my cheek.
“I don’t know. I guess knowing it was Chloe who attacked me. I don’t want her to think she has any power over me. This is my hair, not hers. It probably sounds lame.”
“No, it doesn’t sound lame at all.” I took another bite of my sandwich.
“I want to kill her,” Sian said.
At first, I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly, but looking at her, I knew I heard what she said loud and clear.
She licked her lips. “I … I hate her so much. Just thinking of her makes me feel … I want to kill her. I want her to know what it feels like to fear something. Heather—” She choked and then cleared her throat. “Heather knew she was going to die. She couldn’t get out of that building. What they did and how they did it, it was cruel, mean, and it has to be punished.”
I took Sian’s hand. I’d gotten her a salad sandwich that was labeled vegan.
“Chloe will pay for what she did.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Sian asked. “What?”
I didn’t know the way The Society worked. My dad always told me justice was served and it could be hard, almost cruel at times.
“She will,” I said. “I have no doubt.”
“At school, she always got away with everything. What if she’s able to walk away now?”
I thought about the bruise she had gotten for meddling in the initiation. I reminded Sian of it now.
“There’s no walking away. She will pay for what she did. I can’t tell you how or even when, I only know that she will.” I gave her hand a squeeze in the hope she would believe me.
It seemed to work as she ate her sandwich and I finished mine, but I didn’t really taste it.
We shared a bag of chips, then I cleared away the mess, taking our trash downstairs to where I stored the bin it went in.
On my way back up, Sian stood looking at some of my artwork. Several pieces were still left on display.
She looked my way and quickly averted her gaze. For several minutes she did this, constantly looking at me, assessing me.
I shoved my hands into my pocket, waiting for whatever it was that she wanted to say.
“Do you still want to draw me nude?” she asked.
Her question surprised me. “Yes.”
She turned toward me, and I watched her open the buttons of her shirt. One by one. I didn’t stop her. I had no desire to.
I loved the look of her tits. I’d have them swinging free every single day of the week. Bras were overrated. With the shirt on the floor, she went to her jeans.
I was still mesmerized by her tits as she wriggled out of her jeans.
My cock had other ideas. He didn’t want to draw her, but to bend her over and fuck her.