Page 49 of Oath

“Do you know who is using it and why they are using it?” Sharpness punctuated the question, and she threw it down like a challenge.

“I do.” He smiled, despite the reddening bruises on his face from the pair of hits he’d taken. “I would be happy to tell you all about it.”

“But?” Voodoo prompted from behind her. I didn’t jolt, but O’Rourke did. He’d forgotten Voodoo was there.

If he added more fucking terms to this questioning, I might consider extreme measures.

“But I want out of here,” O’Rourke said, his attention lasering onto Grace. “If you tell me I will be let go and I’ll survive this, then I’ll believe you.”

What?

“Why?” The sheer volume ofwhat the fuckin Grace’s voice almost made me laugh.

“Because these assholes won’t want to disappoint you or make you cry. That means if you promise me I’ll be fine, then I will be.”

Lunchbox cut a glance to me and our gazes locked briefly. I shrugged. I had no idea what game he was playing either.

“That might be hard for you because I’m not promising you anything.” Oh, there she was, fire in her eyes and flames in her voice. “I don’t owe you a damn thing. If I’ve learned anything over the past few months, we can and will get what we need done. We want to find Bones, we will find him.”

Absolute confidence. Zero doubts.

“Ouch,” O’Rourke said. “So harsh, pretty girl. I thought we bonded.”

Rolling her eyes, Grace looked at me. “Is there a point to continuing this?”

Excellent question.

“The point—” O’Rourke began, but Grace snapped her gaze back to him so fast, I swore I heard the crack of it striking him like a blow.

“I wasn’t asking you. You want to play games. I do not. So—shut up.” Then she looked at me again, her expression gentling from that fierce almost Ripley-esque badass she’d assumed when speaking to O’Rourke. “Thoughts, AB?”

Oh, I had plenty of ideas. But there was one I needed to test.

I held out my hand. She came to me like a tide pulled to shore—effortless, inevitable. Her fingers slipped into mine, warm and sure. I tugged her close, one arm sliding around her waist as I dipped my head and kissed her.

It was supposed to be a tease. Just a brush of lips—something light, something curious.

But Gracie had other plans.

Her hand found the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair as she rose on her toes, pressing into me like she'd been waiting for this—like she'd decided this kiss would answer every question I hadn’t dared to ask.

At the first flicker of my tongue, her mouth parted.

That was all the invitation I needed.

The kiss deepened, sharpened. Slow turned to seeking. Seeking to claiming. She tasted like something I couldn’t name—something I’d been starving for and hadn’t realized until now. Sweet heat and something wild, something that made my knees threaten betrayal.

She pressed herself closer, no space left between us, her breath hitching against my mouth like she needed this just as much. My hand slid up her spine, anchoring her to me, and still—still—it wasn’t enough.

From butterfly wings to a hurricane, she blew me away with the ferocity of it.

And I let her.

Hell, I fell into it.

Lifting my head took serious effort, but I managed and ran my tongue over my lips to savor the taste of her. O’Rourke made a grunting sound and I caught sight of the violent desire on his face.

Desire.