Page 36 of Buried in Blood

“No offense,” he mutters, “but I don’t like broken things.”

I stop.

“So you like her because she’s whole?” I say quietly.

He freezes for just a second too long.

“I didn’t say I liked anyone.”

We step outside. The air is cold. The Orchard smells like smoke and bleach and history.

“You ever wonder what I’d do to someone who touched what’s mine?” I ask, voice like acid on your skin.

Hemeets my eyes.

“No. Because I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

And I can’t tell if that’s a warning or a promise.

Either way—I’m watching him now. Like a hawk before the dive. Because something’s not adding up. And if I’m right… Then I’ll be carving both their names into the fucking floorboards before the week’s out.

I think I’ll stay here tonight.

Maybe enjoy one of the girls for myself.

Just in case.

An eye for an eye.

* * *

I get back to the house in the morning, and Harmony is coiled up into a ball on the couch. Sleeping.

What a waste of fucking time. I couldn’t tell you the last time I slept for more than four hours. Let alone in the middle of the fucking day. It’s not even two in the afternoon.

Reese isn’t here. Smart man.

If I catch them even looking at each other, they are fucking dead. I don’t allow betrayal.

“Wake the fuck up,” I say loudly. Her eyes jolt open.

“I need to ask you a few questions.”

I sit on the couch next to her. Her eyes dart around the room as if she were watching a tennis match. She looks fucking guilty.

“O-okay,” she says.

“Did you fuck Reese?”

Her face blanches.

“No. Why would you even ask me that?” She sounds defensive.

“Did you ever kiss Reese?”

A blush paints her cheeks. Horrible fucking liar.

“No. Never.”