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GUNN

“ H ello, Tamberleigh Johnson.”

Scarlet pauses as she enters her apartment, visibly stunned to find me in her kitchen. She rolls her eyes but to my surprise, doesn’t kick me out. “How the fuck did you get in here without me knowing?”

I grin. “Disabling your little sensors was easy.”

She drops the brown paper bag she’s carrying onto the table and crosses her arms. “Okay. Better question I guess would be, why the fuck are you in my apartment? Didn’t you swear never to return?”

Taking out the few items she brought from the grocery store, I store them where they go. Or at least, where I think they go. “Yeah, well, it’s obvious I’m fucked in the head.”

She watches me curiously. “You did some research on me.”

“I did.”

“And? What did you learn?”

“Your name, for starters.” From my pocket, I take out the article from a Mississippi newspaper I printed and hand it to her.

She only pretends to read it. I’m sure she’s memorized it word for word. So I snatch it from her and read it aloud.

Eight-year-old Tamberleigh Johnson was found wandering the streets of Jackson after her parents, Travis and Elaine Johnson, were brutally killed just outside the city. It is believed that the young girl was witness to the murder, and she’s been taken into protective custody.

“I stared at this picture for hours last night.” I point to the little green-eyed girl in the photo just above the article. She’s hiding behind a female police officer, but enough of her is showing that there’s no doubt in my mind of who that is. “It’s you.”

“Congratulations. You know my name. So what?”

“I know more than that, Peaches. I know that after the death of your parents, you bounced around from foster home to foster home. I know that you were finally adopted when you turned fourteen.” I pause a moment before I continue. “I know you killed your adoptive father.”

As I expected, she stiffens, her breathing all but stopped.

It doesn’t take long, however, for her to recover. She turns away and goes to sit on her couch. “What can I say? You have me all figured out. I’m the orphan that got into trouble and lost my soul as a teen. Now you know why I cut myself. You’re free to go home.”

I follow and sit beside her. “There’s more to you than that.”

“Really, there isn’t.” She tries to stand but I snatch her wrist and keep her with me. Letting out a long breath, she digs her fingers into her stomach and grimaces.

“Heartburn?”

Swallowing down what must be an insane amount of acid by the pained expression, she asks, “Does Luca have this information too?”

“Not yet. But he will eventually.”

She gives me a side glance. “You’re going to give it to him?”

“Our man, the one that does all the digging. Even though he’s my friend, he works for Luca. He’s loyal to him. It’s only a matter of time before Luca specifically asks for information on you, and Kyle will give it to him.”

“But not you.” There’s doubt in her tone.

I shake my head and hope she believes me when I say, “Not me.”

Once again, she tries to pull away, but I won’t let her go. Frustrated, she sighs. “What? What more do you want from me? Is it a fuck?” She throws her leg over my lap and straddles me and her mouth pulls into a smile that doesn’t reach her cat eyes. “We can fuck.”

“I don’t want to fuck.” I grip her hips to keep her from grinding herself on me, because then I definitely will want to fuck. “I want to know more.”

She chews her bottom lip in aggravation. “Why? I don’t get it. One moment you want me dead, the next you kiss me, then you want to know why I’m all fucked up. Why?”

“It’s not that I want to. It’s that I need to.”

“Why?”

I shrug, unable to explain something so completely unreasonable. “You do something to my insides, Peaches. My stomach is all twisted up all the time. I can’t fucking think straight, I can’t sleep, I’m always wondering what misdeed you’re getting into, and if you’re wondering about me. It’s the most God-awful thing I’ve ever felt.”

She stares at me, her gaze roving my face. It takes her a while to say anything, so long that I begin to regret what I said. Then she asks, “Why did you let me live that night in the Quarter?”

“I was ordered to get information about Sofia from you.”

“But you didn’t do that either,” she states. “Why did you let me go?”

“Because if I did, I’d never see you again. I’m telling you. You. Fuck. Me. Up. Inside.”

“Dimples,” she says, pressing her forehead against mine. “You fuck me up inside too.”

Her arms wind around my neck and she kisses me. My brain does that thing it always does whenever our lips meet, where it goes into mating mode, giving into my body’s needs.

My hands slide up her thighs, and around her back. I reach under her shirt to her bra, making sure to avoid touching the skin there, fully aware of the shock it will send through her if I do. The clasp gives way easily. Then I lift her shirt and bra over her breasts, exposing them to me.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” I murmur as roam them with my palms, cupping them, feeling their fullness before bending to take them into my mouth.

She drops her head back and sighs, “You’re making me so wet.” Her hips dig into me, creating more friction where we both need it the most.

I move from one nipple to the other, suckling her, teasing. “Why do I want you so much, Scarlet?”

“I don’t know. But take me to bed. Please,” she whispers and I obey.

I cradle her ass in my palms and stand with her wrapped around me. She kisses my neck, nipping and licking all the way to the bed, where I drop her onto her back.

Looking as hazed as I feel, she reaches for me. Before I go down, I tear off my shirt and pants, sending them flying somewhere in the distance.

With one knee on the mattress, I lean over her and make short work of her clothes too.

Then, I’m kissing her again, like a wild man, devouring every inch of her mouth. My cock presses against her entrance, and she gasps as I push in. It doesn’t matter that she’s soaking wet, or that we’ve been fucking like rabbits for the last week. She’s tight, and there’s resistance. It takes a few thrusts, where I pull out a little, ease it back in. Again and again, until I’m in to the hilt.

And fuck, it’s the best my dick has ever had.

We both inhale sharply, both catching our breaths.

I start pumping into her, slowly and steadily at first, increasing the rhythm until I’m pounding into her hard.

“It’s so good, Gunn. So fucking good,” she whispers, bringing my lips to hers.

I shift my forearms under her knees, lifting her legs, spreading her farther. Making it so that I can go deeper.

Her nails scrape against the skin on my back and I hiss, but don’t stop.

“Yes!” she screams. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

The sight of her closing in on her climax is my undoing. I begin to lose control, my movements no longer fluid. I’m desperate to reach the same high she has, and drive into her furiously.

Sitting up, my hands on the back of her knees, I push them until they’re touching the bed. In this position, I know the head of my dick is rubbing against her g-spot, and I want to get her off before I explode.

She inhales sharply and her eyes screw shut as she orgasms. Her back arches upward, her mouth open on a silent cry as she reaches for me.

I let go. My cum spurts into her, leaving a part of me there. Marking her.

As I drop onto her chest, panting, my cock still buried in her sweet pussy, I wonder if she will be the end of me as she’s promised.

It doesn’t matter. I’m not sure I have a choice anymore.

“Tamberleigh Johnson. I like the sound of it.”

“Ugh.” Scarlet rolls away. “Please don’t call me that.”

Before she can get out of bed, I pull her to me “I wasn’t. But it is who you are.”

“I’m Scarlet.” She bites my nipple. “Tamberleigh died a long time ago.”

“We all have a past.”

“Gideon did some research on you too, you know,” she says. “Not just the things your man can dig up.” She doesn’t look at me, her eyes glued to a spot on my chest as her fingers dance across my skin.

“What did he find?”

“Your name is Gunner Sinclair. And… You’re an orphan like me.”

“It’s true.”

She remains quiet for a long pause. “Do you remember your actual parents?”

“I was abandoned as a baby, so no.”

“Oh.” She continues to stare ahead. “I remember mine.”

I realize this is a chance, a rare opportunity to know more about her. Beyond what any document Kyle digs up can give me.

“What do you remember about them?” I ask.

Swallowing what must be a huge lump in her throat, she says, “I remember everything about them. The way they laughed. The way my dad used to take me fishing. The way my mom sang to me when she put me to bed. And the way they died.”

“You saw it.”

At this, she nods and sighs, as if there’s a great amount of pressure in her chest and she needs to release some of it. Once more, she swallows hard and for a split second, I think she might cry. Though she manages to hold it together, when she speaks again, there’s a thickness to her voice that tells me it’s not easy.

“I was eight. I begged Momma to get me donuts. Actually, it was more like I threw a fit and Daddy gave in. Momma was so angry that he said yes after she’d told me no. But she went with us anyway. The donut shop had just been robbed when we stepped through the door. My parents got in the way.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “If only I’d listened to Momma when she said no, they might?—”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But I made them?—”

“You were eight years old,” I cut her off before she can go down that road. “They were the parents and the final decision was theirs to make.”

Her breathing still erratic, she nods, but I’m not sure if she truly believes it yet. Then she does something that sets off an alarm in my head. She reaches for her back, almost subconsciously, and begins to search among her scars. I realize, she’s searching for them among the bodies she’s claimed.

“Scarlet, look at me.” I touch a finger to her chin and she lifts her emerald gaze to me. “Their deaths were not your fault.” Gently, I take her hand and bring it to my lips. “Did they catch the men that did it?”

She shakes her head. “The police didn’t even try because of who they were. Some fucking drug dealers that had shit on the sheriff. Although, I didn’t understand that until I got older.”

“When you became Scarlet.”

“Scarlet Black,” she corrects.

I scowl, not liking the association with The Ferryman. “Gideon gave you his last name?”

Scarlet laughs as she smooths the lines between my brows. “He gave me my first name, for obvious reasons.” The scars on her back. That means, she was already doing this to herself even before she met him.

My heart twists and something like rage settles in the pit of my stomach that anyone would let a kid go that long without help.

“What about the last name,” I say through gritted teeth. “He give you that too?”

“The last name I took.”

“Scarlet Black.” I let the name roll off my tongue, and hate it. “Why would you do that?”

Then she says something I hate more than her taking Gideon’s name.

“Because, I belong to him.”