Page 934 of Lessons in Cruelty

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I felt disembodied as I texted a casual reply with trembling thumbs.

#thatcher

Red or white?

#rooke

We have enough wine. All you need to bring is your appetite.

It was hours later, somewhere past the county line, with the heater roaring and my truck’s headlights painting the pines crowding alongside the road, that I answered Rooke’s question.

I had been a good boy.

Bastian, Haven, and Kai could be sitting in a holding cell right now, but the thought of handing him over to the sheriff never crossed my mind.

Instead, judging from Kai’s glower, I’m the one about to find out when the bail hearing will be.

Haven clears her throat, drawing my eyes away from Kai. She crosses her arms over the white Henley she’s wearing as a nightgown. It’s warm in here, so it must be her hardened nipples poking through the near-transparent fabric that have her covering up. At least the shell-shocked look she wore on the porch has faded.

Rooke hadn’t warned either of them. Guess no one’s safe from his mind-games, not even his two young lovers.

The third member of Agony Hollow’s murderous throuple seems different since I last saw her. More confident. Self-assured.

Maybe it’s the sapphire butterflies glittering in her ears—the ones that match her gleaming necklace. The necklace I’ve seen before, but the earrings must have been under the tree this morning. Her ears are a little red, and I can’t figure out why.

Why is it always so goddamn difficult to think around these people?

“Can I get you something to drink, Deputy Thatcher?” Haven asks, tilting her head.

I tug my beanie off and run a hand through my hair. I should have gotten a haircut last week, but I was too busy staring into the void and regretting my life choices.

“Yeah. Uh...Sure,” I say, sounding less confident and less self-assured than her.

Her arms tighten. “What would you like? Coffee, beer, soda⁠—?”

“Whiskey on the rocks,” Rooke cuts in. “Two cubes.”

To prove he’s not right, I say, “A beer will be fine.”

Right on cue, Rooke gives me that fucking self-satisfied smirk that tells me he knows what I wanted, and that me putting up a fight is just getting him hard.

“Will it?” he murmurs. “Be fine?”

I swipe a hand through my hair again and take another look around the cabin so I don’t have to stare at Rooke’s smug face. Their Christmas tree is so heavily adorned, its branches are in danger of snapping. Torn pieces of wrapping paper litter the floor.

There’s not much else to look at, so my gaze instinctively goes back to Kai and Rooke.

They’re slightly disheveled, both in their pajamas. It is Christmas Day, but it’s gone noon already.

That’s when I finally identify the musty scent lingering in the air. It was just a hint under the faint wood smoke and a pumpkin-spice-scented candle.

Sweat, and cum.

Seems they haven’t had a chance to clean up their home...or themselves.

“Am I interrupting something?” I ask reluctantly.