Page 45

Revs. Revolutions, I have accepted being the hated one, the feared one. A cautionary tale for some, and a novelty to others. I haven’t fucked anyone since my coming-of-age, and I moved into my own apartment. After the second time a man announced while doing his trousers back up, that his friends won’t believe he bedded the Silent Assassin, I was done. They stopped trying after it got around I cut off someone’s balls. It didn’t happen. I started that rumor myself.

Tasting blood, I launch myself in the air to use the trunk of the tree as a springboard. Kicking off and reaching for the lowest hanging branch, I swing myself onto his shoulders. Cutting off his air with my legs while still gripping the branch, Riley becomes a deadweight too heavy for me. Unable to unwind myself fast enough, I land on the ground with him.

A group of three men were stupid enough to think they should “teach me a lesson” a couple of revolutions before I spread the rumor. I let them get close enough that they thought they had me, my wrists held behind my back by two of them. I could’ve gotten away from them easily, long before then, and not let it get to that point…I didn’t need to resort to the measures I took.

But I wanted them to try.

As the man who wasn’t holding me unbuckled his pants, I attacked. It wasn’t slow enough to be wholly cruel, but I made sure they knew their painful deaths were coming. And that I had planned it all along. Three murders that wouldn’t be linked to the Silent Assassin.

Riley punches me in the ribs as I try to roll away from him quickly, the full force knocking the air out of me but giving me momentum to wrap my legs around his arm. I pull tightly, knowing this will be the end because his arm will break if he doesn’t concede. He taps my leg with his hand calling his defeat.

I release Riley’s arm but we both don’t move from our tangled position. His arm is still resting between my legs, while my left leg is draped over his chest. He starts to shake. Worried I’ve hit him in the head too hard and he’s seizing, I scramble to sit up over him.

He’s laughing. A breathless, throaty laugh with a sparkle in his forest green eyes. I’m still hovering over him, kneeling on one side of his ribs while crouched on my foot on the other. His laughter has me mesmerized until a drop of blood from my lip or nose splashes onto his cheek and surprises us both.

He thumbs my blood off his skin in a sweep and then reaches up to my face to wipe it gently onto my cheek. His warm hand brushes my ear as he lingers, one finger tracing over the shell of my ear.

“You can have that back, Firecat,” he whispers, looking at me with something I don’t understand. It looks affectionate. His touch feels affectionate.

I’m not falling for this again. I stand abruptly, growling. I spin around to stalk off, nearly running into the other three.

“All good?” Beans asks with raised eyebrows and concern crinkling around his eyes.

“I’m going down to the water,” is all I manage to croak out, before taking off at a sprint in the direction of the creek.

I’m crashing through the trees and uneven ground, picking up pace. I’m trying to outrun the cacophony of sound in my chest, and I need to go faster to do that. I’m launching myself over the giant cracks in the earth and dead trees felled by the constantly shifting ground.

It only takes one careless foot placement, and I’m thrown sideways, my hip smashing into a log as I tip over it. My body flips and I land on my back with one leg hanging over the log, reminding me of how it hung over Riley’s chest only moments before.

I’m heaving, trying to catch my breath, but it’s proving impossible. Especially as angry tears sting my eyes. I’m gulping in air trying to stop myself—I will not let the first time I cry in almost two decades be because of this.

“If you can hear me, Bitty. Please don’t say anything. I’m fine. Just let me be,” I choke out between gasping, tearful breaths.

Fairly sure that I’m no longer going to cry, I drape my arm over my eyes and lay there, the creek forgotten. I’ve never let anyone get under my skin the way I’ve let this group. The way I’ve let Riley. Yet I’m constantly surprised by it. A sure sign of insanity.

I hate him.

I’m going over every meaningful interaction I’ve had with the four of them, needing to reanalyze it with the new knowledge that they had no idea who I really was. My rage thunders in my chest all the way down to my stomach, making me nauseous. Every secret they trusted me with, every moment of laughter and affection, all based on the wrong truth. I didn’t lie, but rage gets stuck in my throat as if I did.

“Are you dead?” Tovi asks in her typical disinterested voice. I didn’t even hear her approach—she sure is light on her feet for a woman of six-foot.

“Napping,” I reply curtly as I shift my arm so I can make out her leaning against a tree by my leg. She plonks herself heavily onto the log my other leg is resting over, leaning back against the tree again.

She’s looking out toward the direction of the water, her beautiful violet eyes scanning the horizon. Her face is calm, not as rigid and harsh as when I first met her. A slight softness in her features contrasts with her disinterested tone. “That was quite a show. The outburst, not the fight.”

“I’m here for your entertainment, Tovi.”

“At least your sarcasm isn’t broken. Your face might be, though.”

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes. Is she making sure I don’t run away?

“So, you really thought we knew?” she asks, to which I gesture with my free hand to indicate I know I’m an idiot. “You should get laid,” she adds.

I lift my arm completely away from my face and push myself up, so I can glare at her. “What, and why?”

“Releases tension, and you are…tense.”

“Thanks for the advice. I’ll make sure to ask one of the many suitors lining up.”