Page 8 of The Secrets We Bury

“Do what?” he asks.

“When you came back and you found that room,” I say. “I was so fucking pissed at you. I wanted to—” I cut myself off, not sure if I should even admit the direction my own thoughts had gone.

Lex nudges my chin with his fingers, reminding me he’s still there. “Go on, baby, say it. I’m a big boy, I can take your anger.”

“I wanted to fucking kill you.”

His lips twitch. “There’d be no better way to die.”

That’s… sick. Wrong. I shake my head, trying to clear the images that pop up that are everythingbutdisgusted.

“I…” Words dry up and my throat closes around the realization that I almost put forth into the world. The reality that no one has ever looked at me the way Lex is now.

My mother hated that I didn’t love everything she did. From my hair to the classes I took at school, she wanted to choose them all, to make sure they wereappropriatefor a Donovan.Not once did she ever acknowledge that I was anything more than my last name.

It makes a girl wonder… is what Lex did so bad? Is it really unforgivable?

A phone rings, jolting me out of my head, and Lex frowns as he digs into his pocket and withdraws his cell phone. He offers me a grimace. “It’s Nolan,” he says by way of explanation as he presses the green button and answers the phone.

He listens for a moment and then his frown deepens. I start to step back, only to stop as he drops a hand to my waist and pulls me harder into him. The hard ridge of his cock presses against my belly, making me realize that our nearness isn’t just affecting me. Despite that fact, however, Lex’s brow creases as he listens to whatever Nolan says on the other end of the line.

“She’s with me,” Lex finally says. An answer to a question I couldn’t hear, I assume. “We’re— You what?” Surprise and then anger clouds Lex’s expression and his fingers dig into me, as if he needs something to hold on to maintain his control. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

I watch Lex’s face as his features shift, changing and growing more and more dark with each passing second. “We can handle this on our own, she—” Lex stops and this time, I can hear Nolan’s reply.

“This isn’t up for debate,” Nolan snaps. “It’s done. We’re on our way back now and, Lex, you should get used to the idea. He’s your uncle and even if you don’t want anything to do with him, this is bigger than us now. If you want her protected the way I know you do, you know we’ll have to do things we don’t want to.”

“Fine.” Lex bites the word out. “See you when you get here.”

He ends the call and for a brief moment, the two of us are still and silent. Then, Lex drops his phone to the floor and closes his arms around me, drawing me into his body and holding me until air is squeezed from my lungs.

“Lex?”

He doesn’t respond, but when I nudge him and whisper a suggestion that we move to the bed, he drags me backwards and collapses onto the side of the mattress without any further prompting. I’m hauled into his lap and he bows his head, pressing his face into my throat as he drags in breath after harsh breath.

Hesitantly, I reach up, my hands drifting into the long locks of dark hair flopping over his forehead. Soft and slightly curled, I dig my fingers into his scalp. The responding moan of satisfaction is all the encouragement I need. I massage and scratch and move my hands through the thick mass of dark strands, brushing them towards the back of his head and away from the sharp angles of his face.

When he glances up at me from beneath charcoal-colored lashes, the look in his eyes promises to ruin me.

Maybe I’m already ruined.

3

JULIET

Rich people are obsessed with dead things. Famous people. Exotic animals. Languages.

I always thought it was strange that Silverwood Prep offered classes like Latin. After all, it’s a dead language. There are no native speakers. Who’s to say that the modern interpretation of it is even correct? There’s no one to tell us otherwise.

Still, as stupid as I thought the class was—enough that I refused to take it even when Avery begged and pleaded with me because she didn’t want to be alone—there is a beauty about something that’s clinging to its own existence.

It refuses to die even knowing its end is inevitable.

I think my relationship with Lex is like that now. We’re already dead and gone, but… after the initial shock of finding out that he’s been stalking me for thirteen years, I don’t want to let it go. I’m angry and sore and tired, but I don’t want to fight with him anymore. I don’t want to fight any of them.

If I’m honest, what I want is… to be with them. To beoneof them.

Foolish? Maybe.