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He gave me an inexpressive look and then turned away. “I want you to be sure,” was his answer. I was seconds away from imploding.

“The men with the snake tattoos. How many?”

Now I was glad he couldn’t see my facial expression when he asked that.

This was the question I was waitin on, the one I knew he’d eventually figure out. I reckoned that was where’d he’d gone off to.

He went to a bright orange duffel bag that must’ve recently been placed on the foamy bed, and unzipped it.

I could have pretended I didn’t hear the question, or played stupid, but by the anger suddenly rollin off him in waves, he already knew, and just wanted me to verify it.

“He told me before I dropped him down an elevator shaft,” he explained, responding to my silent thought.

I wanted him to know solely because I knew how this was goin to go. So I told the truth—the whole truth, and nothin but the truth, because that’s what my Grimm wanted, and I needed to tell someone.

“It started with Vitus, but he didn’t force me. I know that makes me sound like a cheap whore, but I thought it’d be over with if I just gave him what he wanted. Then his dad came in. His…uncle went next. The cousin.”

I swallowed and looked down at the faded tile, feeling my stomach roll as I recounted it all inside my head. I took in a lungful of air and rushed through the next part.

“They took turns fuckin me in the ass while another one had his way with me in the front.

“I was held up between them, or on my side on that damn bed. I begged them to stop, and Arlen never begs. Arlen was strong and they took her away from me for no fuckin reason!

“They didn’t care about the blood, or how bad it hurt, and Noah just stood there watchin so he could make good on his word, of all things.”

“Why did they have to do that to me? Why am I the one who feels ashamed and dirty for what those sick assholes did?” I was sobbin into his chest by time I was done. He had his bloody arms around me and stood there like an immovable force, letting me get it all out of my system.

“Sorry I’m such a mess.” I gave him a sheepish smile when I dared look back at him again.

“Don’t ever apologize for this, Brat. If you can’t cry on my bloody shoulder, what am I good for?” he joked.

I wondered if he knew he was the sole reason I was hangin on. He was supposed to be dead inside, yet here he was, making me feel alive.

He used his tongue and swiped a loose tear right off my face, and then stuck it in my mouth. I tasted my own filth and couldn’t find a damn thing wrong with it. He bit down on the tip, not lettin up until I whimpered.

“What do you need from me, Brat?”

“I’m tired of seein their faces. I just want you to erase it. Make me feel better.”

Taking my left leg, he hooked it over his hip and pressed his hard cock into my apex.

“This?”

“Yes,” I groaned on a loose breath, grabbing his hips. I didn’t give a damn where we were, that we had both just killed less than an hour ago, or that we were both coated in blood. Who was goin to judge us that mattered? If someone felt any type of way, that was their own damn problem.

My moral compass had begun to glitch. I couldn’t find it in myself to give a damn about that, either. And was that really a bad thing?

Grimm tore away from me and lifted his shirt over his head, droppin it to the floor. My heart did some weird twist in my chest, and heat flared in my lower stomach as it erupted with flutterin.

His tattooed body was flawless. Every bump and ridge interconnected like a secret pathway. I took a step towards him, doing the same thing he’d done with my tank top, standing in front of him in nothing but my black bra and pants.

He undid the top button of his jeans, still moving away. As if there were an invisible choker wrapped around my neck, he became the master of my body, pulling me towards him with silent command.

“You’re not ready for my kind of fucking, so you’re going to have to sit your pretty ass on my lap and fuck me.”

Oh, lawd. Between my legs clenched. I felt myself grow wet from his words full of dark promise of what would come later. I hadn’t been with anyone aside from the pool boy and the men who’d used me.

I shook my head as if to free them from it. They wouldn’t steal this from me; this choice was all my own. I wanted to give myself to this wicked man and let him do whatever he wanted to me.