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17

SCARLET

Y ou’ve heard what spiders do to their mates when they’re done with them.

I did warn Gunn this would happen, didn’t I? I told him so that he would stay away. Save himself.

It was him that insisted on being with me in spite of what I am.

What are you? my she-devil asks.

“Death to anyone that loves me.”

If he is meant to die tonight, I will kill him. Or perhaps, it’s my time that’s come to an end, and he will be the one to kill me. Either way, we’re over.

It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let it go this far. But I wanted something all my own. I wanted Gunn to be all my own. Just like I wanted Gideon as my pigheaded older brother and Maisie as a little sister to protect. I wanted Gunn as mine.

The truth is, I can’t have any of that. Instead of protecting Maisie, I will eventually cause her harm. And Gunn… Gideon was right. Gunn will eventually harm me. It’s in his DNA, just as it is in mine.

All of that may be true, yet it doesn’t keep dread from forming in the pit of my stomach as I ride the Ninja back to Gunn’s place. No matter how much I press my fingers into it, the burn only worsens.

Because you don’t want to do this.

I lift the face shield on my helmet and let the wind dry up the tears threatening to run down my cheeks.

By the time I reach his place, his garage door is already open. I park the bike in its spot and the door automatically shuts behind me.

“Upstairs,” he calls through the fireman’s chute.

“Be… I’ll be right up.” I can barely speak.

My hands start trembling as I place my helmet on the handlebar. I take several deep breaths in an attempt to calm my nerves, but it does nothing. I’ve never felt this way, this anxious to do a job.

Because you don’t want to do this.

“I have to,” I whisper, tugging out my knife, the Damascus nine-inch one I selected just for this. Only the best for Gunn.

Unchecked by the wind, one of my tears escapes and hangs on my chin as I peer at the mirror finish of the blade in my palm.

The reflection staring back at me is terrifying. So little soul left.

I curl my fingers around the steel, letting the sharp edges sink into my flesh until blood drips to the floor. Even with the sting, I find no relief from the increasing ache in my chest.

He will turn you in the first chance he gets.

He’ll use you to get to me.

He cannot love you.

Kill him before he kills you.

Gideon’s words go around and around in my head as I make my way up the winding staircase. I find myself leaning heavily against the iron railing, and almost fall through the door on the second floor.

Although his open loft-style apartment is much larger than mine, there aren’t many walls separating the spaces and I have an unobstructed view across to the kitchen.

I remain far from him, staring at his broad back. A back I’ve kissed and licked. Now one I have to stab.

He’s preparing a meal, the aroma of fresh spices thick in the air. His knife makes quick work of an onion and some green beans.

“You’re making dinner,” I state the obvious.

Glancing over his shoulder with that usual dimpled grin, he winks. “Wanted to impress you a little. Bet you didn’t think I could cook.”

My fist tightens over the blade. He’s cooking for me? All I did when we were at my place was order in. “It… It smells good.”

“It’s going to be fucking delicious. Come taste. I’ve got steak, green bean and fennel.”

“Wow.”

He looks at me again, this time, his brows furrowed. “Why are you just standing there? Come here.”

Tucking the blade into the holster at my back, I give him a weary smile and swallow down the acid bubbling up in my throat. I’ve never felt so sick.

Because you don’t want to fucking do this!

“Peaches, what’s wrong?” Fully turned to me now, Gunn sets the knife down and begins to walk my way.

“Nothing.” I smile again, but it’s so hard to hold it. “I brought your bike. Parked it where it was before.”

He stands in front of me and peers into my soul with those brown eyes of his that see everything. “Something’s wrong.”

I shove away. “You don’t know me enough to tell when something’s wrong.”

Gunn’s hand is instantly wrapped around my arm and is dragging me to him. “Something’s up. Wh—” He glances down at his blue jeans and notices a drop of blood that’s landed there. “What the fuck?”

Before I can snatch my hand away, he grabs it and cringes at the cut he sees there.

“Had a bit of an accident.” I try to laugh it off as insignificant, but he doesn’t buy it.

“With what?” The worry in his expression slices through me deeper than any cut could. I want to give into it, give into everything I feel for him. Fuck what Gideon said!

The thing is, he’s right. With Gunn, I’m vulnerable. And I’m willing to risk my life, for what? A few days, a couple of weeks at most, of fun? Then what?

He’ll give you up and God help you if that happens.

I can’t allow that. I won’t let Gideon down again.

It’s now or never.

“Scarlet,” Gunn grinds through his teeth. “How did you get hurt?”

Titling my head, I channel the old Scarlet, the one that could do her job and have fun at it. But fuck, it’s hard to hold onto her.

“You know what, Dimples?” I grin. “I’m not hungry.”

Gunn definitely notices the change and he releases my hand. “Something’s happened?”

“It has.” From behind me, I whip out the blade already dripping with my own blood. “I’ve been reminded of who I am.”

“The fuck!” He leaps back as I swing, but I manage to catch him in the forearm.

Both of us watch in silence as a crimson line forms on his skin and rivulets begin to stream down to his fingertips.

Gunn lifts his narrowed gaze to me. Whatever worry was there has vanished, replaced by fury. His nostrils flare as his focus goes from my face to the weapon held tightly in my hand.

“We’re back to this shit of wanting to kill each other?” he spits.

“It’s what we have been ordered to do, Gunn. Procrastination is just going to make it harder in the long run.” I take an offensive stance, ready to engage him. Encouraging him to come to me.

“Procrastination? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“This! Us!” I scream. “What we’ve been doing is nothing more than bidding our time.”

“I thought we were doing more than that,” he retorts.

“We were playing. Like fucking little kids, just playing with fire. Eventually one of us will get bored and turn on the other.”

“I wouldn’t have. I promised you I wouldn’t.” He’s so serious, so determined, that it sounds true.

I huff. “How can I believe the word of a Sinacore member?”

“Can you believe Gideon?”

“He’s never betrayed me.”

“Neither have I!” He tries to step close, but I slice the knife through the air again, keeping him at bay. His jaw works furiously and he growls. “Damn it, woman. This isn’t a game. Not for me.”

Sarcastic laughter erupts from me. “Don’t tell me you’re actually falling for me.”

Every line in his face goes ridged and harsh, his eyes turning from brown to nearly black. “Give me the knife.”

“Fight me for it.” I strike and he evades. “It’s you or me, Gunn.”

“Give it to me. If you force me to take it from you, I promise you won’t like it.” The trembling in my hand becomes obvious and he notices. At this, the edges of his mouth soften. “Please.”

“Just fight me. Please!” So that I can live with myself if you die.

He shakes his head and puts out his hand. “Give it to me. You don’t want to do this.”

“I don’t have a choice!” Again I strike, this time, aiming for his leg. He moves to the side, but I manage to get a tear into his jeans.

“You have no choice?” His mouth pulls tight, drawing up his dimples into hard slashes on his cheeks. “Do you really want me as just another notch on your back?”

“You will kill me if I don’t.”

Because the real battle I’m waging is deep within myself, I’m slow to react when he snatches a hold of my wrist and slams me into the wall.

I scream in agonizing rage when I attempt to slap him with my free hand, but he manages to get a hold of that one too.

“Drop the knife!” he insists and he squeezes my wrist near the point of snapping. “If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it. So drop it before I hurt you.”

When I don’t let go, he begins to pound my hand against the wall, harder each time. Still, I hold tight to the hilt.

Now it’s him that growls with rage. “Fine. But if I’m going to be one of your scars, I better be the fucking deepest.”

He spins me on my heel so that I’m facing the wall and secures my hands above me. I toss my head back, but he’s prepared and easily avoids getting hit in the face.

“What are you doing?!” I demand when he begins to lift my shirt, exposing all of my scars. Roughly, he tugs down on my right hand, knife and all. I suck in a breath when he presses the cold steel against my skin, imagining just how deep he’s going to cut me with my own blade.

“Fuck you!” I hiss. “Cutting doesn’t hurt anymore. So go for it. Cut me.”

His breath ragged, he leans closer, his lips on the shell of my ear. “Oh I bet I can make it hurt. When I’m done, I’m going to be the only cut you feel.”

If I had known what he was about to do, I could have braced for the pain. But I’m so completely unprepared for the first assault, that a cry erupts from me against my will.

He drags the flat side of the blade across my scars, barely hard enough to feel it. But that’s not what hurts. Oh no, not even close.

It’s the warm press of his mouth that follows the blade. Little kisses he trails over every mark I’ve made on myself, somehow going deeper than any cut I’ve ever had.

And I ache. I ache all over. My chest constricts as the pain he promised builds there and threatens to explode from me.

Why is he doing this? It’s as if he’s trying to erase the marks of my sins with a tenderness that burns.

I shut my eyes in an attempt to quell the emotion he’s stirring inside. But I’m not strong enough against whatever this is, and the tears begin to flow.

“Stop,” I beg in a tiny voice. “You’re hurting me.”

Pausing, he says, “I know,” and continues the torment.

He tugs the waist of my jeans over my ass to access the lower marks. When he goes down to his knees and releases my hand, I remain. Although I’m still crying, I want him to finish this. To finish me.

But when he reaches the scar on my lower left side, the cut recently redone, I cover it. Some things should never be erased.

“Not that one,” I say.

His gaze lifts to mine and holds it captive as he seems to delve deep into my soul. I’m not sure what he finds, but whatever it is, it convinces him not to push me further than I can go.

He nods. Then he moves the knife over, to a place on my hip where I have no other scars. This time, he does make me bleed.

“The man I was before you,” he says as he meticulously carves a line into my flesh, “everything I knew, is gone. If your job was to take my life, there’s no need. I’m willingly giving it to you. My life. My soul. All yours.”

“Don’t say those things,” I plead, tears flowing freely.

“ I have no choice. I fucking love you,” he says, as if it’s against his will, but he’s resigned himself to it. The knife clangs to the floor and he stands, taking a step back.

I turn to him slowly. We stare at each other, both of us in pain and distress.

“You don’t love me,” I tell him. “You can’t.”

“Believe me, I wish I didn’t. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt, like I’m dying. Can’t sleep, can’t eat, lookin’ up fucking recipes you might like on the internet. I never do that shit! But I fucking love you. If you killed me now, I’d still fucking love you.”

My chest constricts to the point where I can’t breathe, it hurts so bad. That’s when I realize that Gunn is what I have no choice in. What I feel for him is so far beyond my control, I never had a chance to stop it.

“I fucking love you too!” I cry out and run into his embrace.

We kiss in a way we haven’t done before, just as desperate as we’ve ever been, but with a destination beyond a simple orgasm. Every stroke of our tongues, every caress of our hands as we go down is so much more.

Our clothes come off aggressively, our lips locked as we breathe each other in. Then, I’m pinned to the floor by his weight as he pushes inside me. Our sex isn’t meant to brand, but to meld. To pour ourselves into each other.

I hold him to me as he reaches his climax, my nails digging into his ass as he thrusts and fills me with everything he is.

When it’s over, he remains inside me. I tighten my arms and legs around him, wishing we could stay like this forever. Because the way Gunn described love is horrible, but accurate. It’s an emptiness, a gut-wrenching void that’s only filled by this closeness. Only when we’re together, can we breathe.

His head drops onto my chest. “You’re mine now, Scarlet. You know that, don’t you?”

I let out a sigh as I give myself over to this thing we feel too. “I have no choice.”