Page 41 of Buried in Blood

Is so much worse than being feared.

* * *

The water is scalding.

I need it to burn. I need it to erase everything—Damien’s praise, Brooke’s smile, the way Reese looked at me when we kissed like the world was ending and we wanted it to.

Steam curls around me, licking the tile as I rest my forehead against the glass. My chest aches. My throat tightens. I shouldn’t want this.

But I do.

His name doesn’t leave my lips, but his image is everywhere. The memory of his voice. The way his hands hovered without touching. The restraint. The danger.

God, the restraint is what undid me.

I close my eyes, let my hands wander like a prayer I shouldn’t say. Like a sin I’m desperate to commit. I snake my hand between my legs, rubbing my clit to the image.

I try to picture nothing, but all I see is him. Standing close. Breathing heavily. The way he said “good luck” like it meant everything and nothing at all.

The way his jaw clenches. The way he exists. It all comes crashing in on me at once.

My breath hitches as my hips move in slow circles. My pulse throbs in my ears. Warmth spreads to my core at the forbidden desire.

I move my hand quickly as Reese clouds my thoughts.

He doesn’t even have to touch me to ruin me. He looks at me as if he could devour me, and still have an appetite. He craves me, as I crave him. I just know it.

The water masks every sound, but I bite my lip anyway. If he knew—if Damien knew—I’d be dead.

That’s what makes it worse.

That’s what makes it better.

I sink to my knees under the stream, letting the heat scald my skin raw while my body trembles from the inside out.

And when I finally break, I do it in silence. With his name carved into my ribs and shame wrapped around my throat like silk. I shudder beneath the stream, letting stars dance across my vision.

Istay there long after the water has turned cold.

Because the second I leave this shower, I have to pretend I never felt a thing.

And I did.

17

Dante

“I don’t likewaiting,” I mutter, tossing the lighter between my fingers. The flame catches for a split second before I snap it shut again.

Lucien leans back in the chair across from me, arms folded, jaw ticking. “If we go in too early, we lose leverage. And if we lose leverage—”

“We lose his prisoners.” I finish for him.

He nods.

I stand and walk to the map we’ve been updating in red ink. Circles. Tunnels. Watch points. The whole fucking Orchard blueprint. Every exit Damien’s ever used. Every blind spot Reese missed.

The song “Something in the Way” by Nirvana plays around the room.