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Taking him by the jaw, I forced his eyes to me. “You touched the wrong woman tonight. She belongs to me. Anyone who touches something that belongs to me, dies.”
I slid the blade in between his ribs, aiming for his heart. The steel hit the organ from the side, puncturing it and sending shit sideways for the motherfucker who thought he could have what didn’t belong to him.
Watching the life drain from his eyes satisfied the monster. He had been sated for another day. Stepping back, I walked to the incinerator in the back corner of the basement and turned the dial, setting the temperature. The clan had upgraded from wood to gas, so the blue flames jumped and writhed as soon as I hit the start button.
I opened the door, shielding my face from the intense heat it was already throwing out. I slid out the metal slab, then hauled Mr. Touchy onto it. I shoved him inside and shut the door. As I watched him burn, I thought about justice. I’d brought justice to Fallon tonight. I had done the right thing, but something inside me also asked whether Fallon needed this kind of justice. Whether she’d asked for it or whether I’d simply taken it for her. What the hell was I thinking having her? I couldn’t have her. My world was ugly shades of black, white, and gray, and hers streamed in color. Despite the shit that went down, she still looked at the positive side of things …
Except, I wasn’t positive.
I was darkness, and she was my light.
I wouldn’t snuff out that light with my life.
I fucking refused to take something so pure.
TWENTY-ONE
FALLON
When Orin returned to the room, he strode straight into the bathroom without giving me a second look. He was covered in blood. Scrambling from my perch on the edge of the bed, I tried to open the door, thinking it would be locked, but it swung open easily.
Orin had his hands planted on the counter, his head dropped low. When I entered, though, he turned to face me. My immediate thought was that I had to check him for injuries. I reached for him without thinking—without warning him—and he jacked up to a stand.
“Don’t touch me,” he snarled.
He looked like a cornered, wild animal. His eyes were huge, his posture stiff. He was ready to attack, but I didn’t care. I needed to know he was okay. Ignoring his command, I tried one more time to run my hands along his back and chest, looking for any signs of bullet or stab wounds. This time, he backed up a physical step.
“I said don’ttouchme!” he barked.
I held back my wince. “You’re bleeding.”
He glanced down, then back at me. “It’s not mine.”
“Who does it belong to then?”
“The man I killed.”
“The man …” My eyes widened. “The man who tried to …” I couldn’t even finish the question.
He answered anyway, nodding his head. “Yes, that man.”
I swallowed thickly. “Where is he now?”
“Burning.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He had killed a man, then incinerated his body all because of me. I looked away, nibbling on my bottom lip, trying to make sense of this. I knew he was a killer. I hadseenhim kill when it was a matter of life or death, but this kill was purely for revenge. He had ended one man’s life because he had touched me. At the time, that was just what I’d wanted, but now in the cold wastelands of introspection, I should’ve said no. I should’ve told him not to do it.
“Now do you see the monster I am?” he asked in a dark rasp.
I looked at him through the mirror. “You’re not a monster.”
“Iama monster, Fallon.” He flung his arm out wide, pointing at something in another part of the house. “I tied him to a chair, cut out his tonguethenhis dick, peeled his clan tattoo off his body like I was filleting a fish, before finally sliding a knife into his heart—all while I was staring into his eyes. The kill was intimate because he had fuckingtouchedyou. He’d touched you and I told you, you were mine.”
Removing his dick I could understand, but …
“You cut out his tongue?”
He flashed me a sardonic grin. “It helps stop them screaming.”
