Page 120 of Grave Beginnings

I stared at it for a second. “I have no idea what that one means.”

Angel barely held back a laugh, glancing at my screen. “He’s fine.”

I sighed, letting my head thump back against the seat. “This is why I never planned to be a parent.”

“At least this kid arrived mostly grown,” Angel teased as he exited the highway and turned onto the ramp toward my place. “Since the kid is gone, it’s okay for me to come up?”

“You promised me cake.”

“With, or without me covered in it?”

My cock went from zero to six hundred percent ready at the image he conjured up. “No fair, teasing when I’m headachy and exhausted.”

“You can nap while I bake.”

I sighed and relaxed back into the seat.

“Sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

“It’s hard to stay mad at you,” I grumbled, closing my eyes.

“Why would you be mad at me?”

“For not telling me the bonding is dangerous for you.”

He breathed out a long breath. “You’re pretty skittish. The last thing I want is to scare you away before we get a chance to try.”

“If you keep being this nice to me, I just might fall for you,” I admitted. Though it was a partial lie as I was already falling hard for him.

He threw me a soft smile. “Close your eyes, baby.”

I sighed, and shut them, thinking to ease the headache, but must have fallen asleep that fast because he was rousing me what felt like seconds later.

“I can carry you if you want,” he offered.

I grumbled something I wasn’t certain I understood, but got out of the car to lean on him all the way up to my place. The thought of lying down without him made my anxiety rise. “Come to bed?”

“What about your cake?” he asked as he locked the door behind us and helped me kick off my shoes.

“Later.” Would it sound too needy to say I wanted him to hold me while I slept? Thankfully, he didn’t make me say it. He guided me to the bedroom, stripping me of everything except my boxers and tucking me under the blankets before undressing himself and crawling in beside me.

Sleep tugged me down before he’d completely settled next to me, Peanut Butter chirping with happiness at him as I drifted off, feeling safe and hopeful to keep the man currently wrapped around me.

42

The stenchof antiseptic and formaldehyde wafted through the air. Cold steel bit into my back. My left wrist burned where a handcuff ground into bone, tearing my skin as I tried to pry it off. I was back in the morgue, the chemical bite of disinfectant mixing with the cold, sweet rot of the dead. My gut wrenched in horror as the body on the table glared at me, mouth gaping, while voices rose in a swarm of buzzing rage.

“Why won’t you save us?”

“Monster.”

“It’s your fault.”

I ripped at the cuff, thrashing to pull away from the table and the corpse on it, my heart hammering hard enough to ache. The walls closed in around me. My lungs burned for air, and I gasped as the cold, clammy grip of the dead man closed around my wrist.

“Jude!”

Arms wrapped around me, and I screamed. A warm, muskyscent of man, sweat, and sugar filled my senses. The cry died in my throat as reality snapped into focus: Angel’s arms around me, his face pressed into the back of my neck as he whispered soothing things.