Page 24 of Beyond Hate (Beyond #3)

Otto

I didn’t sleep. The restlessness at what was on the letter London had pressed into my hand with bloody fingers was eating me alive. I’d wanted to ask him about it when I found the hotel he’d rented, but he was so warm and soft, and when he glanced up at me, his eyes were exhausted .

He’d been through hell and back, and a small part of me could at least acknowledge that I’d dragged him straight to those gates and thrown them wide. I’d do it again if I had to, without question. Without worrying about what it meant.

There was no world where I didn’t have London with me, and I was pretty sure the only way he could get here was on the exact pathway we’d walked.

That didn’t stop me from carefully slipping from the bed when the sun peeked through the curtains and walking to the little kitchenette the cheap room offered.

I was halfway through making coffee that I was sure was going to taste like shit when I heard the rustling of sheets behind me.

“You’re still here.” I wasn’t sure why he sounded so surprised. He was going to be lucky if I let him take a piss by himself at this point, let alone do something like stay in a seedy motel.

“We’re going to find somewhere else to stay.”

He completely ignored me and sat up, and my eyes tracked the way the sheet slid down his chest, the way a bruise was forming at the corner of his mouth where he’d been hit. “Does that mean you’re going to stay stay?”

There was so much weight behind the question, so much meaning that I couldn’t quite wrap my head around.

It meant something big to him, whatever my answer was. And I didn’t understand why, because I thought I’d made it clear.

“London, you’d have to kill me to get rid of me now.

Haven’t I done enough to prove that you’re mine?

” I started toward him, and the way his body instinctively curled back on the bed, the way his fingers clutched at the sheets, made something just beneath my skin tingle, some monster that wasn’t mine ripple and try to surface.

I ignored it and leaned in. “I’ll carve my name across your chest if you need me to. ”

If I’d ever needed proof that I might have broken London when I took him, the way his eyes widened and his lips parted slightly at the threat would have been enough.

I leaned into the bed, tracing his skin slowly with my finger, outlining my name along the line of his collarbone.

The low whine that built in his chest was a temptation I didn’t need to give in to, but I couldn’t stop myself from moving closer.

“Or maybe I’ll cut myself open and let you carve your name on my heart.

If you watched me bleed, would that be proof enough? ”

The expression on his face shifted to something less full of heat…

I didn’t have any way to describe it other than warmth when he took my fingers in his and carefully brought my hand to his mouth.

“You’ve been hurt enough for a few lifetimes, Otto.

I won’t do it again.” He pressed his lips carefully to my fingertips, and I wondered whether he realized that saying things like that, touching me so softly, felt like he was flaying me open anyway.

It cut deeper than any blade, and had the ability to bleed me out faster than any wound.

The sensation was too intense. It ran along the lines that existed across my fractured soul. It danced between the spaces where I’d existed before as a boy who felt too much and the body I was in now that felt nothing but the need to hunt London down and make him hurt.

I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood as I stepped away, before I did something I couldn’t take back.

The only sound breaking the silence was London slipping from the bed as I turned back to the coffee machine.

“That’s going to taste like shit.” His voice came from directly beside me, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I turned to look at him, and my eyes were instantly drawn to the bruise on his cheek again. Almost helplessly, I raised my hand and brushed the corner of his mouth gently with my thumb.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” His tongue darted out to lick at the cut before he stepped into me. Those warring emotions apparently weren’t enough to stop me from letting him, and the chill in my head wasn’t enough to stop my arms from coming around him when he started to shiver. “I’m just… tired.”

I knew he didn’t mean physically, but I didn’t know how to make it any better for him. The best I could do was run my fingers through his hair and give him promises I’d kill to keep.

“I’ll stay with you, London.” I couldn’t promise that no one else would hurt him, because the world was made to hurt people like London…

“I’ll kill anyone who hurts you.” I could promise that.

I might not always be able to stop it, but I could always bring him back blood-soaked fingers as proof that it wouldn’t happen again.

He laughed, and the sound was just a little broken. “You can’t just kill anyone who hurts me, Otto.”

“Why not?” The question was instant.

His head lifted, his nose scrunching sweetly as he looked me over. It wasn’t like he had reason to think I wouldn’t do it… and the expression wasn’t something guilty at the prospect of me doing it… so…

“I’m not worth all that blood.”

When I cupped his face, sliding my thumb gently along his lower lip again and pressing against the cut until he let out a wince, I shook my head.

“I’d fill oceans with crimson if it meant I could keep all of your pain for myself.

” His expression went wide as I brought my thumb to my mouth, licking at the faintest taste of blood lingering on my skin.

He kept staring at me as I poured two cups of coffee and handed him one, my nose wrinkling at the acrid scent—with the lingering taste of copper and London’s skin on my tongue, I wasn’t sure I wanted to drink it.

He followed me quietly to the little table in the corner, and his fingers played with the paper cup for a few seconds before he took a shaking breath.

I knew what he was going to ask before the question left his lips, and I realized I didn’t want to hear it.

“What was on the note, Otto?” The insistence in his tone almost made me reluctant, but there was no reason to hide it. I wasn’t doing London any favors by trying to protect him from everything or shelter him from the world. He was precious, but he needed to be capable of taking care of himself.

The amount of times he’d been hurt was proof of that.

Which meant he needed to know that this was more than some fucked-up ex-boyfriend. More than some weird client at work.

“It’s fine, rabbit. This doesn’t matter.”

“I—” I cut him off before he could protest. I wasn’t telling him he couldn’t see it… I was just trying to temper his reaction before I reached over him to grab the note from my jacket pocket.

When I unfolded it on the table, my eyes darted down to the words almost helplessly. I knew what it was… I knew where it came from.

Knowing that didn’t make seeing it any less…

Painful.

I killed Otto.

Those three words were written on the page over and over and over again, and I didn’t need London coming up behind me to tell me what I already knew.

“That’s… my handwriting.”

“Not yours,” I said softly. “Nikki’s.”

He stared at the paper, his breath coming in sharp little bursts, like his mind was trying to burn those words behind his lids and remind him of when he’d written them. Being with London made it almost easy to forget that another incarnation of him had killed me…

But that confession was written clearly, and we both recognized the handwriting.

“How did he get this?”

“I don’t know.” I folded the page before I had to look at it anymore. The bold words, sins of your past , were written on the other side in handwriting I didn’t recognize, but it matched the other note London had. “But someone obviously knows what’s going on.”

“Maybe it’s just… I don’t know… a… coincidence or—”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Someone tried to hit us, someone sent your fucking ex those photos so he knew to come looking for you…

someone left the note. I just don’t know who…

or why. I killed Marco and Warren. The entire facility burned to the ground…

unless it had something to do with Axel Fetterman and his people.

” The thought was enough to make me scowl.

I’d trusted that man and his little pipsqueak of a boyfriend enough to leave them alive when I took London.

If it was coming back to bite me in the ass now…

“Who?”

“The people who burned the facility to the ground. They said I could leave with you… but… maybe they were lying.”

London shook his head. “Did you know them?”

“No.”

“Did I know them?” I knew what he meant.

“No. I have no idea who they were.”

“Then why would they be… taunting us? Maybe it’s an employee who worked there? Do you know if everyone…” London hesitated on the word but pushed on. “Do you know if everyone died?”

I didn’t. I hadn’t bothered checking the news to see what they said about the fire, and I hadn’t really cared up until this point.

A disgruntled lab nerd made more sense than Axel Fetterman randomly taunting someone as innocent as London for the sins of his past. He seemed entirely too concerned with his boyfriend to care.

The logic in London’s words was enough to make me sit back. “Okay… so we need to know if anyone lived through their little temper tantrum.”

London took a sip of the coffee I’d made and winced. When he stood and went to the sink to dump it out, I followed him. He wasn’t looking at me when he spoke. “Okay, what happens then?”

“Then I figure out who this is and I’m going to kill them.

” The burn in my chest was almost overwhelming.

Apparently, the rage this body felt could be directed away from London instead of just toward him—it could be for him instead of because of him.

It was painting the world around me in layers of crimson and tendrils of smoke that felt so thick I could touch them, could use them to build walls to protect him.

“No.” London’s voice was calm, careful. His expression was so soft and serious when he turned to look at me that I almost felt defensive.

“You can’t stop me, rabbit. They’re already dead, they just don’t know it.”

He shook his head and took a deep breath.

I saw it in the rise of his shoulders, the way he straightened himself up, he was steeling himself for something, and I was ready to cut down any argument that he might have had for me.

Which… was why I didn’t expect the next words that came out of his mouth.

“No, I’m not saying you can’t kill them, Otto. I’m just saying you aren’t doing it alone. I’m coming with you.”

Instinct instantly demanded I tell him no, that he wasn’t doing anything. If it hadn’t already gone so badly the last time, I would have chained him to the bed again, to a damn radiator if I had to… but…

There was something in his eyes—steel and determination. The slightest edges of the man I’d known before, the one who’d been a better killer than I was. I’d shown him the letter because I wanted him to be prepared… Wasn’t this just more of the same?

London was London, but every now and then I realized his heart might have belonged to him, but there were bits of his bones that screamed Nikki in shrapnel shards ready to take down the world.

“You want to kill people with me, London?” I stepped into him, trailing my fingers up the length of his arm and settling against his throat. His pulse was hammering against my palm, but he didn’t step back. He didn’t waver.

“No, I don’t want to kill anyone, Otto… but you’re not going without me. We’re doing this together, or you aren’t doing it at all.” The soft demand in his voice was like spider silk—stronger than it had any right to be, even though it felt like a gossamer strand against my cheek.

I didn’t think I could break free. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. London was sweet, easy to break, easier to bleed.

It would be better if he knew how to cut instead.

“Fine.”

His eyes actually widened slightly, like he’d expected more of an argument. I could see it on the tip of his tongue, all the reasons he was ready to give for why he was right and I was wrong… but I didn’t want to hear it.

I didn’t want to waste time on it.

I wasn’t going to fight him when every minute we had together felt like something we’d stolen from the clutches of death. I wasn’t going to waste it with something stupid like not trusting him enough to keep him beside me.

“Really?” All that bravado was folding now that I’d given in to his demands, and it actually forced the corner of my lips to lift into a smile.

“Really. But I have conditions.”