Page 19

nineteen

T he parking lot is quieter than I expected it to be. Lights are strung between poles in planters and the building itself, and there aren’t enough cars to fill up the parking lot. Being only ten or so, I guess it’s not a prime time for people coming or going. The lights above us are the only ones, as there aren’t any actual lamp posts on this side of the lot, and seeing as the parking lot is sandwiched between a couple of buildings, it’s a bit more private than some of the others.

But that doesn’t make me feel better.

My chest tightens when Eric suddenly reaches out to me, his hand grazing my thigh. His touch is clammy, even through my tights, and he draws me toward him gently. Cautiously.

Hesitantly .

God, I hate how timid he is. It reminds me of how eager Hux is by comparison. But I don’t stop him from pulling me against him and slowly, kindly, wrapping his arms around my waist.

He smells like beer .

His mouth fucking tastes like beer when he kisses me, though it’s more like a bump of his mouth against mine. He breathes against my lips, then nudges my mouth again, and I find it hard not to push him away and call off this whole thing.

Eric is not the person I want to be here right now. I can’t bring myself to do anything except let him kiss me. I can’t do anything except press my hands to the wall behind me like I’m allergic to the touch of his skin. But still, some part of me hopes Huxley is watching.

I want him to be jealous.

Fuck, I just want to see his face when someone else is kissing me. That is the motivation I need to finally push into him and pretend he’s someone else. I let myself relax, and my hand even comes up to rest on Eric’s shoulder. There’s nothing wrong with him, I remind myself.

Nothing at all.

I sigh against his lips and try not to taste the beer on his breath. His hands are clammy as they slide up my sides from my waist, and when I squirm, it’s not from delight or anticipation. It’s from poorly hidden dislike.

He’s not Huxley .

God, I have to stop thinking that. Even though I know Huxley is somewhere nearby—he has to be—and I don’t understand what he’s doing by letting this go on.

Eric’s hands move further up my sides, now firmly on skin, and he’s pushing my shirt up over my ribs until the edges of his fingers can brush the undersides of my breasts.

He tastes like beer.

He’s not Huxley.

He’s panting like he’s running a marathon instead of just kissing, and I swear I can feel his knees shaking like this is his first kiss.

He’s not ? —

When Eric jerks away from me, I immediately wonder if I’ve said those words out loud. But when I glance up, confusion plain on my face, it’s to see a hand fisted in the collar of Eric’s t-shirt and his blue eyes wide with shock.

“Hi.” Huxley’s voice is anything but friendly as he tows Eric close to him. His smile turns feral, until it’s more of a threat.

And suddenly, I have to lean against the wall on unsteady legs. Fear and anticipation surge through me, leaving me breathless, but the excitement in my throat nearly chokes me. The way he’s holding Eric seems dangerous, and all I can do is watch.

“Who are you?!” Eric writhes in his grip like a deer caught in a trap, his wide eyes darting around, looking for an escape. “What the hell, man?—”

“You were doing such a poor job of kissing her that I couldn’t stop myself.” His voice is cold and unfriendly. He’s everything I know him to be in this moment. He’s not wearing even a hint of the veneer of sweetness I’ve seen before or heard on the phone.

This is Huxley at his worst.

Suddenly, I realize what he’s going to do, and the anticipation drains from me, quickly being replaced with cold, unrelenting panic.

“N-no!” My gasp causes Hux to give me a lazy, bored look, though a small smile twitches on his lips at my outburst. “Hux?—”

“I thought it would take you a little longer to figure out my game,” he admits in his slow, lazy drawl. “But you know what I’m planning to do, don’t you, little bunny?”

I do, but I won’t say it out loud. Though part of it is for Eric’s benefit. I glance at the blond, who’s looking more drunk and confused than anything, and I fight the haze of liquor in my brain to focus on the situation at hand.

“Huxley don’t,” I murmur. “Just let go of him. You’ve made your point, okay?”

Eric grumbles, fixated on my words instead of the warning in my tone. “Is this your boyfriend?!” He snaps, disdain on his face. “Seriously? Why would you fuck with me—” At a twist of Hux’s grip, his words are cutoff by a squealing yelp that reminds me of a pig about to be slaughtered.

Huxley just grins at me, sparing no attention whatsoever for the man in his grip.

“But you were the one who wanted to take our game a little too far,” he reminds me, head tilting until his eyes glitter in the lights above us. “You didn’t have to do that. You could’ve just followed along with what I was telling you to do, Kai.”

“I’m not your pet,” I snap. “Not your puppet, either. Just…” I trail off, my heart racing so fast in my chest I worry I’m going to drop dead at any moment. “Just stop, okay? Let him go. For me. Let him run away, and we’ll talk or whatever, or?—”

Huxley snorts, but his grip on Eric doesn’t falter. “You want me to let him go?” he repeats, and something inside of me twists darkly at his tone and the excitement he can’t quite hide. “You want me to spare him for you?”

I nod once, the action jerky.

“Then beg .”

For a moment, all I can do is stare at him. Part of me wants to believe I heard him wrong. That he’s not actually telling me to beg like I think he is. The other, more rational part of me, knows he means exactly what he’s saying. My eyes dart to Eric’s face, and it’s definitely a good thing for him that he’s pretty drunk instead of just buzzed like me. He barely has an idea of what’s going on, and he’s just sort of babbling away and listlessly pushing at Huxley’s hands instead of really trying to twist free like he should.

Would Hux really kill him here ?

It’s not private enough. Not isolated enough. Someone could walk through the door on the way to their car, or come out here to get some, like Eric and I did. Huxley shifts, and when my eyes find his, he does that thing where his brows rise. But this time he shifts, his free hand going to his hip, and the motion causes his shirt to ride up just enough that I see the hunting knife sticking out of his belt.

Try me , his level gaze seems to say. Try me, Kai. See if I won’t .

“Please.” The word is out of my mouth along with all the air in my lungs. “Huxley, please just let him go, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” His tone is casual. Bored, even.

I nod vigorously as my heart pounds in my chest, and I can feel my hands clammy with sweat as before I scrub them on my shorts. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, just…” I trail off, because I definitely don’t want to say the k-word in front of Eric. That will really freak him out, even through the alcohol. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you want me to say, okay?”

Huxley surveys me from eyes that are colder than they should be. He’s so still, so calm, even with Eric writhing in his grip as he watches me like a predator about to pounce on a meal.

But isn’t that exactly what he is?

“Will you make it up to me if I let him go?” The purred question feels intentional, and something in me wonders if this was his game all along. “If I send your pretty blond here on his way”—he shakes Eric by his shirt like he’s a terrier shaking a rat, and Eric would fall if Hux were to let go—“will you spend the night convincing me I didn’t make the wrong choice? The boring choice?”

“Yes,” I whisper without hesitating. I can’t even fake reservation, and the way heat pools in my lower body is definitely from something other than fear. But the fear is still there. Cold and strong and sending goosebumps up my arms.

Because Huxley is dangerous , and maybe that’s something I’ve forgotten about him in the weeks since I saw him last.

“Just let him go, okay? Let him go, and?—”

When Huxley releases Eric, he falls to the ground. An undignified sound like a yelp leaves him, as he crashes to the pavement on his bony knees. “What the hell?!” he protests, maybe not realizing Huxley has just done a very nice thing for him. “What’s your problem, my guy?”

“You can leave now,” is the only reply Huxley gives him, though he turns that cold, calculating gaze on Eric just as he kneels down to meet his eyes. “Seriously. Leave, little boy. Otherwise…” He leans in, and for one moment, I swear he’s going to kiss Eric. Especially when his hand comes up to delicately cup his jaw, and he draws the blond’s face closer to his.

“You won’t like how this game goes,” Huxley purrs against his mouth. When Eric nearly melts into him, I have to remind myself this is not a free show, and Huxley isn’t about to do something hot with Eric for my benefit.

Murder isn’t sexy , I tell myself. And that’s all he’s offering here .

But Eric doesn’t seem to get that either. He stares at Huxley like he’s having a bi-awakening, and I really can’t blame him for that. After all, Hux is apparently my serial killer sexual awakening.

When Hux looks back at me with hooded, narrowed eyes, he has a knowing grin curving over his face. I swear it’s for my benefit as he pulls Eric close enough that his lips graze the man’s jaw, and my heart stutters to a stop in my chest. There’s not an ounce of jealousy in me as I lean against the brick wall behind me so it holds my weight and I consider that all I feel is fascination and definitely a bit of arousal.

Well, that and a very healthy dose of fear.

Snorting, Huxley drags Eric to his feet and shoves him back toward the door of the club. “Go on, friend,” he tells him unkindly. “Go find someone else to take home. And learn to kiss better, because your personality isn’t doing it for you. Your face can only take you so far, I’m afraid.” He continues his ‘advice’ as Eric stumbles back into Revival Room with a look of utter confusion on his face.

And finally, I can let out a sigh of relief.

But the sound attracts Hux’s attention, and within seconds he’s right in front of me, leaning forward and pressing one arm against the bricks to cage me in place. “And you ,” he purrs, leaning in close. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Kai? If you really wanted to beat me at this game…” His fingers trail up my body, twisting in the knot of my shirt before moving farther upward.

It’s so hard not to lean into his sweetness. His touch. It’s so hard not to beg for his lips on mine, when really, that’s all I could ever?—

I don’t notice his finger in the heart-shaped loop of my slip-choker until he jerks on it like a leash. With a gasp, I’m forced to arch off the wall, the chain tight around my throat.

“You needed to have a stronger backbone.”