Page 84 of The Hitman's Prince

He was stubborn as Vince, I thought, shoving my cell phone back into my pocket and turning quick on my heels. I traced my steps back through town, sidestepping the school campus and giving myself enough distance from Vanessa’s place, which was probably already crawling with cops.

I knew where to find Vince, and unfortunately, I worried it was also where I’d find Phillip Moore.

Chapter 62

Vince

The bed was small and the mattress itched like it was stuffed with straw. My shoulder hurt from having my arm folded behind my head for so long and my hand ached from the cut on it, but the patterns in the plaster ceiling and the knots in the exposed wood beams were fascinating. If I looked close enough, I could see the swell of Orion’s hip in the grain, the angles of Jacob’s shoulders, the wrinkles around the corners of Caspian’s eyes when he was tense. Even though I was alone, they were with me.

Always.

I closed my eyes, the echoing click-clack of dress shoes against the marble aisle of the church growing louder and more insistent with every step toward the apartment door. I should have moved off the bed, crouched behind it at least to defend myself, but my heart had swelled at thesound of the first step and grown harder to contain with every step after.

The doorknob rattled, and I turned my head to face the door, blinking slowly as the person on the other side tried to pick the lock. The door was so thin I could hear them breathing, hear the sound of steel pins fighting the locking mechanism, and then the clatter of discarded tools on the floor. The door swung open, hanging on its hinges and the scent of rosemary and lemon floated into the room.

“I knew you’d be here,” Orion said, holstering his weapon and closing the space between the door and the bed. He threw himself at me, and I had no choice—no other want—but to sit up and catch him in my arms. He gave himself the shortest amount of time in my arms before taking my hands into his and kissing my knuckles, pressing them to his forehead. He didn’t shake, his fingers steady against mine as he held me there against his face.

“How?” I asked, debating pulling a hand out of his grip so I could touch his hair, cradle his cheek. Orion Delmar, my ever obedient pet, always at my heel, always at my side.

He hummed, kissing my fingertips, the palms of my hands.

“The towel,” he murmured. “Though if you had chloroform at home and have been holding out on me?—”

I cut him off by hauling him forward, taking his lower lip into my mouth so he would stop speaking.

“The towel,” I muttered, sinking my teeth deeper intohis lip. He grunted, eyes rolling back as he gave himself over to me. “Of course you would notice it was ours.”

I increased the pressure of my teeth until the soft inner side of Orion’s lip finally yielded, giving me the rush of blood I was after. He moaned deep and low, and I licked his wound, swirling my tongue around and mixing his spit and blood into my own mouth.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, seconds before I speared my tongue past his teeth, kissing him in the way he loved the most. Limp in my arms as I deepened the kiss, Orion was—as always—mine to use. Fisting his hair, I pushed him onto his back, mounting him and keeping our lips sealed together. His tongue explored my mouth, frantic and desperate, like it was the first and last time we’d ever kiss again.

“Slow down,” I whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth, the other corner, the sharp angle of his jaw. “Slow down. Slow down.”

“Why did you do it?” he asked again, angling his head toward the ceiling I’d been staring at to give me better access to his throat, arguably my favorite part of him.

“To charm out the snakes,” I said, kissing his Adam’s apple.

“You scared me,” he rasped. “Scared us.”

“But here you are.” I slid a hand down his chest, fought open his belt and reached into his underwear. Orion’s cock was thick and hard, and I tightened my fingers around him in a punishing grip. “I knew you’d find me beforeanyone else.”

The breath left his lungs in a painful-sounding exhale, and he fisted the sheets like that would stop him from throwing himself off the bed and into my hand.

“I killed Vanessa Scoretta,” Orion whispered, screwing his eyes closed.

“Why?”

“She was going to kill Caspian.”

“You don’t even like him.” I pressed the edge of my thumb into the slippery and wet slit of his dick, harder and harder until his eyes finally opened.

“You do,” he said simply.

“Where is the priest?” I asked next.

“Making a mistake.” Orion gritted his teeth together, thrashing his head against the pillow. I continued to stroke his shaft, tighter than what would have been considered nice. I didn’t think he was going to get off, but that wasn’t what either of us were chasing. Orion needed to know I was safe and I was the man I’d always been. I was after the same, but also…somehow more in a way I couldn’t explain.

Somehow, my heart was no longer my own, and Orion had held it so carefully—and unknowingly—in his hands. It was only with his blessing I’d broken pieces of it off for Jacob Moore, for Caspian Andersen. It was only with Orion’s approval that I would take another breath, live another day.