Page 130 of Pretty Little Things


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I want to put my mark on her. Somehow, some way. The kind of bite that bruises, and she feels and sees for a while, something that sinks beneath the skin.

I’ve marked her before. I want to do it again.

Setting down my glass, I go and get my phone, and before I can stop myself, I call.

It goes to voicemail.

The questions I already know the answer to swarm my thoughts. Jac. Is that where she is? Who she’s with?

Jealousy slices, white hot, through me and I actually really want him dead.

She’s with him.

I can get confirmation with one call.

Because I’m apparently a masochist, I press another number.

“Hendrick.”

The wariness in Damon’s tone tells me all I don’t want to know.

“Where are you?” I ask.

When he doesn’t answer, I swear.

He sighs. “You know where I am. You sent me here, remember? Now hang up, find some hot girl, and fuck her.”

I grit my teeth as pain lances me again. “I asked you to keep an eye on Magdalena, at her place. Is she there alone?”

“Go spend time with the necklace. Are you at home?”

“Define home.”

“Don’t be an ass,” he mutters. “Home. Downtown. Your duplex hidden in a tenement building, that home. Geez.”

I could do like he said. Fuck someone. There are enough candidates to choose from if I was that kind of guy.

“Is—”

“I’m not at her place, Hendrick, now go find something to do.”

Ice and cold swamp me.

“Jac’s. You’re at Jac’s. She’s at Jac’s.” I keep saying his fucking name, like if I stop, she’ll choose him instead of rejecting us both. Worse. Choose him over me.

He doesn’t speak for about two minutes. Then he says, “She’s been in there a while. Stalked up hours and hours ago.”

I close my eyes.

“She went to leave, and he dragged her back in.”

Wait… My temper flares again. “Dragged her?”

“Not against her will.” Then his voice grows kind. “Advice you’ll ignore? Stay home, Hendrick.”

“Not on your fucking life.”

* * *

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