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Nights were the hardest. Daylight made it easy to see all the reasons why it wouldn’t work.
Why it couldn’t work.
A handful of weeks since I’d been back, since I’d been both praying that I didn’t run into Luke and wishing he’d arrive at my door, I got my wish.
And it went exactly as you’d fucking expect. A complete Fuck-Up.
Lucy told me to meet her at the Greenstone Security offices for lunch.
I didn’t like it, tempting fate by going somewhere he walked the halls. Where he worked now.
I didn’t know if she did it because she was trying to push something I’d refused to even mention for a month, or because Keltan kept pretty tight tabs on her since she’d been released from hospital.
Maybe it was a little of both.
I walked into the offices absolutely fucking terrified.
Of course I looked absolutely fucking fabulous. I still hadn’t put on the weight I’d lost since I’d been gone, but I was getting there.
That also meant I got to go shopping.
I was wearing brand new Jimmy Choos, studded, sky-high and completely badass. My jeans molded to every part of my body and were so tight I couldn’t eat breakfast. I had a simple white tank on top, no bra, which was totally visible from the chill in the air, and my short curls were split into pigtails. Tendrils escaped and framed my face, which I’d chosen to put little makeup on except bright pink lipstick.
He wasn’t in the foyer when I walked in, which was good. The receptionist informed me that Lucy was waiting in Keltan’s office.
“Down the hall to the right.” She smiled.
I tried to do the same and pretend that the hallway didn’t look exactly like the one from The Shining.
I almost got there unscathed, but I wasn’t designed to walk around life unscathed.
Luke came out of a door to my left, almost bowling me over.
His entire form stiffened as he took me in, his eyes roving over my body.
They stopped for a considerable amount of time at my chest. My nipples hardened visibly with the stare, and he hissed out breath between his teeth. Then his eyes dragged themselves upward, finding mine.
“You changed your hair,” he murmured, his voice rough.
I swallowed against his voice, touching my pigtails self-consciously.
“I like it,” he said.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I whispered.
His dark eyes narrowed, losing all softness of before as he stepped forward. I backed up as he did so. “I bet,” he hissed. “Which is why you’re here, right? Still running, Rosie?”
I hit the wall. Nowhere to run at that moment. “No, I’m not running anymore.”
“Yes, you fuckin’ are,” he growled.
Then he kissed me.
No warning, nothing. He was just there, his lips on mine, devouring all the words I was going to yell in protest, devouring every sense of strength I had left.
His hands found my breast, tweaking my nipple painfully and exquisitely. I pressed myself into him, running my nails over the tee on his back.
His hand was in my jeans before I knew what was going on. Then, just as he was about to reach the magic spot, the point of no return, I yanked my head back and circled his wrist with my hand.
“Luke,” I choked out, breathless. “We’re in a hallway.”
His blue eyes seemed black. “Don’t give a fuck, Rosie. I’m finally tasting your mouth and it’s sweeter than I ever imagined. I can only imagine what your pussy tastes like. I don’t want to fuckin’ imagine.”
My aforementioned pussy clenched with the sex dripping from his words, from the feeling of his hardness against my thigh. I could barely think straight.
But I had to.
“No, Luke, we can’t.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, yanking his hand back and caging me against the wall. “Don’t spout that shit, now of all times. I’ve been patient, let you come back. I’ve been trying to let you come to this yourself because I know you’re too fuckin’ stubborn to let me force you into it.” His mouth was inches from mine. “And fuck, do I want to force you into it right now.”
I almost did it, almost leaned forward, captured his lips with mine and let him fuck me against a wall in broad daylight in a public place. The public place thing wasn’t what bothered me.
“What, it’s on your bucket list to fuck a murderer?” I spat, acid in my voice, hating myself for it.
He flinched back as if I’d struck him, and I hated myself even more. “What the fuck, Rosie?” he gritted out. “How the fuck could you even say that?”
“Because that’s what I am,” I hissed. “I blew up dozens of other murderers just like me for vengeance. I shot a man in the head right in front of you. And you knew about it, but you couldn’t do anything because of this twisted painful thing between us. Because of the truth of what we are. What I am.” I paused, breathing heavily. “And isn’t that what you think I am? A mass fucking murderer?” I yelled. “I knew you thought that the day you came to my house with my necklace. The way you looked at me told me that, so why the fuck didn’t you arrest me? Make your career instead of ruin it?” I spat the question I’d been burying for years, among others.
