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A laugh escapes my lips, “You don’t like anything.”

“I like you,” he says, eyes locking with mine as tingles flutter through my body.

“That’s one thing.”

“I like everything about you. That’s many things.”

The loud intro of the movie starts, newspaper clippings flitting across the screen. It grabs Nox’s attention, diverting his eyes from me momentarily. “Oh, I love this movie.” He grabs me quickly, without taking his eyes off the screen, and pulls the blanket to cover us. I snuggle into his broad chest, soaking up his heat.

He’s completely into the movie, and I take this time to watch him for a change. My heart swells, threatening to burst right out of my chest because of the emotions overwhelming me. I shift my body closer to him, and his hold on me tightens.

Would it be weird to commission someone to paint his beautiful fucking face so I can hang it on my wall?

Probably.

Should I look into it anyway?

Definitely.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t be watching much more of the movie,” he rumbles without looking at me. A thrill sails through my veins as my face heats. “Turn around and watch the show, the pizza will be here soon.”

“Fine,” I huff, rolling my eyes. I turn back to the screen, trying to focus on the movie. However, my mind drifts to Victoria. Was she mad I sent the pizza? Did she eat it or throw it out? It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Why did Grey call instead of her? She could have easily thanked Nox for it. I hope something as simple as pizza didn’t send her into a spiral. But maybe it will grip her by the heartstrings and tug her back into my orbit, then I can apologize to her when I’m not doused in another person’s blood.

Nox’s lips graze the shell of my ear, pulling me out of my thoughts, and sending a wave of anticipation rolling through me. “Don’t float away on me or I’ll have to find a way to keep you grounded.” He nips at my neck then kisses the spot while I shiver at his words. I’m ready to launch myself at him, movie be damned, but the doorbell rings.

“Pizza’s here,” he says, jumping over the back of the couch and abandoning me. He strides over to the door, opening it, and doing the awkward dance of swapping the money for the pizza boxes. How does everything about him turn me on? It’s not fair to be that good looking while paying for dinner. It doesn’t help that hismonster dick is just swinging freely beneath those grey joggers, and his black, long sleeve shirt is pushed up his forearms, exposing the tattoos inked into his skin. Silently, I watch him from the couch, carrying on casual small-talk with Miles’s son.

Finally, their conversation ends and he closes the door, pressing the button to lock it. Lennox strolls through the house to the kitchen, placing the pizzas on the island. My mouth waters, and I can’t help but think I’m anything but hungry right now.

Chapter Sixty-seven

Mallory

I’ve pushed this off for as long as I can. If I don’t find a release soon, I’m going to crumble and hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it. Nox returned to patrolling the highway two days ago, it’s what has held me back from leaving the house. What if he spots me driving into Corpsewood?

I left thirty minutes after him today, knowing he’d still be at the office as I’m flying down the road towards the city.

Dusk paints across the sky, a breathtaking swirl of yellows, oranges, and bright reds. I try calling Bellamy for what feels like the fiftieth time. Instead of going immediately to voicemail, the robotic voice tells me “Your call cannot be completed as dialled.” Did he fucking block my number? Or change his? Goddamnit, there goes my only fucking lead.

The green road sign ahead tells me the Corpsewood city limits are getting closer. I watch the tree line, waitingfor the hidden shit-hole of a bar to poke its head out of the shadows. It’s one of thoseblink and you’ll miss itkind of places and I did, about three or four times the night Dennis demanded I pick him up after my shift. He embarrassed me so thoroughly when I finally got there, I made sure to never forget its location again.

Mountain Peak Pub pops into view, and I flick on my blinker. Switching lanes, then crossing the highway before pulling into the gravel, pot-hole ridden lot. It looks the same as it did back then, even though I haven’t been here in almost a year. Ancient, weather-worn wooden shingles encase the building, the heavily faded blush paint flaking off and littering the ground sporadically. I’m sure the local wildlife living in the woods surrounding the area don’t appreciate the lead paint leeching its chemicals into the ground.

My eyes wander over to my mask, it lies innocently on the passenger seat gazing vacantly back at me. I know Bellamy demanded I stay away, but I can’t. I refuse to live in fear again. Constantly wondering if this will be the day whatever my parents were wrapped up in comes for me. He might know me, but I don’t know him. I won’t be stupid enough to believe anything a stranger tells me. Maybe he wants me clueless. It would make swooping in to kidnap me and sell me off to the highest bidder that much easier for him.

I might not have any proof to validate my hunch, but I spent the last two days with Nox gone, going over everything I do know. Randy phrasing me as Dennis’s meal ticket, and the man at the Haunt’s threat of somethingworse than the death penalty stand out the most amongst everything. It’s why dear ol’ step dad kept my v-card intact. He was going to sell me into the sex trade. Hyping up my purity, along with the way I can suck dick better than any whore in the county, only would’ve racked my price higher and higher as demand for my services grew.

This isn’t even the darkest of thoughts that plague me in the middle of the night when Lennox is working.

My most nagging question is…

Did Nox know?

I want to believe he didn’t. If he had, he would’ve told me. I’m also sure his first kill wouldn’t have been so restrained if he’d known my parent’s true intentions. But I won’t know anything unless I confront him, and let loose all the information I’ve been withholding.

Exiting the car, gravel crunches under my feet as I cross the lot. Gripping the brass handle, I heave one of the heavy doors open. Behind the bar is lit up with a wealth of liquor bottles, each one reflecting the different coloured lights of the neon signs adorning the walls. I cast my sight around the area, looking for an empty seat. Noticing immediately nothing in this bar matches or has any flow.

I’m roughly shoulder-checked from behind, making me jolt forward, and scramble to right myself before I fall on my face. “Don’t linger in the doorway,” a voice grumbles as it passes me. A disgusting pig of a man aims his eyes in my direction, visibly stunned when he notices I’m a woman. He’s tailed by another man, this one gangly and greasy. They snicker before moving to sit at a vacant table.