Page 27 of Upon Blooded Lips (Vengeance #1)

TESSA

W aking up slowly is a leisure afforded to those who grew up in safe and loving homes.

Each morning, I snap awake, keeping my breathing even while sending out my senses to check for danger.

A whisper of movement, a hint of Presley’s perfume, a breath of air in what should be a silent room.

When I find nothing, I open my eyes, blinking against the sunlight flooding the room.

Memories from last night slam into me, and I grab the pillow beside me and squeal into it, kicking my legs in the air like an excited child.

I thought Uncle David had broken me for good.

That I’d never experience an orgasm, never fully understand the things I’d read about.

But Nate and Eric proved me wrong, making me come twice.

Twice! I inhale Eric’s lingering scent on the pillow and clutch it to me, joy unfurling in my chest. We have to do that again.

I feel like I’m truly awake for the first time in my life, and now all I want to do is explore it to its fullest.

My stomach grumbles, and I grudgingly set the pillow aside and force myself out of the comfort of the warm bed before stumbling out of the room and into the bathroom.

I jump at the sight of my reflection and run my fingers through my disheveled hair.

A hickey graces the side of my neck, and a light blush settles over the apple of my cheeks at the memory of Nate marking me.

Am I wrong for wanting more? Needing more? I want them to mark me everywhere, to claim me as theirs, to let everyone know we belong to each other.

My reflection ripples, and Mirror Girl winks at me before settling back down. You just had to tease me, didn’t you?

Silence.

I guess the wink did the speaking for her.

After taking care of my needs, brushing my teeth, and showering, I head back to my room to get dressed.

The Duke is coming tonight, and the idea sends a shot of excitement through me.

What does she mean by training, exactly?

As I dress in shorts and a T-shirt, I contemplate that.

Because of my upbringing, I’m lacking in most basic life skills.

I can’t cook, drive a car, or even do a load of laundry, let alone load a gun or defend myself.

Hey. We did a pretty good job with those assholes at school.

You did, not me. And it’s not like that was real self-defense.

Whatever.

I roll my eyes and grab the hairdryer. Having so little life experience irks me.

It makes me feel like a child who needs to be looked after, not an adult.

But I can’t wait for years to get my revenge while I learn everything I should.

Not only will Mirror Girl pester me to death, but I simply don’t want to.

I can’t start my life until they’re taken care of, so I hope the boys and The Duke are excellent teachers, because I’m ready to put my past behind me and truly live for the first time.

After I’m done getting ready, I pack up my suitcase and head down the hallway. Low male voices reach me through the closed French doors leading to the suite’s living area. I pause for a moment, my hand trembling over the handle. How do you face the two men who blew your mind the night before?

Chicken.

I huff a laugh and push the doors open. Nate’s and Eric’s heads snap up, matching grins spreading across their faces. A veritable feast is spread out on the small dining table, and my stomach rumbles again, reminding me it’s been far too long since dinner at the Italian restaurant.

Eric jumps up, grabs my hand, and pulls me toward the table. “We didn’t know what you wanted, so we ordered everything,” he explains.

“I see that.” He holds a chair out for me like a gentleman and pushes it in once I’m seated. He takes the seat to my left while Nate settles into one across from us.

Nate grabs my plate and fills it for me, slapping Eric’s hand away when he reaches for the bacon.

“Ladies first,” he says, his deep voice on the husky side.

It sends a little thrill through me, and I bite my lip as he stacks more and more food on the already overloaded plate.

After setting it in front of me, he pours me a glass of water and another with orange juice.

“Thanks,” I murmur, feeling suddenly shy again.

I duck my head and begin eating while the boys discuss business matters.

Their quiet chatter washes over me like soothing waves, allowing any vestiges of anxiety to leak out of me.

Once I’ve satisfied my appetite, I sit back and tune into their conversation.

“The garage will do,” Nate says, and Eric nods.

“For what?” I ask. They have a ridiculously large garage to the side of their property, one big enough to house ten vehicles, along with a one-bedroom cottage adjacent to the property gates.

It’s where they divert deliveries and where I had my hair, makeup, and nails done before our night at Club Oblivion.

They don’t like people on their property, unless it’s the cleaning or maintenance staff, who, Eric assures me, he vetted thoroughly before hiring.

“The Duke and her men,” Nate replies. “The upper floor contains two apartments. They can stay there if they don’t want to arrange accommodation elsewhere.”

That makes sense. It will be handy having her nearby during my training. “So what’s her deal, anyway?” I ask before taking a sip of juice.

Eric shrugs. “Like I mentioned before, no one really knows anything about her or where she comes from. There are rumors, though, but they’re just that—rumors.

If they are to be believed, she hails from the West Coast and grew up in either a cult or a crime family.

” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Most people refuse to believe she exists, because her reputation is so fantastical, it’s like she’s a myth.

She’s big on loyalty and honor, and her word is her bond.

Make no mistake, though, she’s absolutely deadly.

Cross her, and no one will find your body. ”

A shiver rolls down my spine, not from fear but admiration. After growing up in a household where lies drip from the walls like blood, and honor is scoffed at, I can absolutely respect someone who values those traits above all else.

Nate glances at the time on his phone and pushes to his feet. “The staff are cleaning the apartments and stocking the kitchens. We should head back to avoid getting caught in traffic.”

“What time is it?” I ask, thinking it was around ten.

“One thirty,” Eric says, ruffling my hair as he walks past me. “Someone was tired after last night.”

And there goes my blush again.

Although it’s only two p.m., there’s still enough traffic to make leaving the city torturously slow. Nate taps his fingers along to “Playing with the Boys” on an oldies station, while Eric, as usual, is buried in his laptop.

“There’s an accident on the I-90,” Eric says, glancing up from the screen.

“Lake Shore Drive?” Nate asks, checking the rearview mirror while putting the blinkers on.

“That’ll do.”

Nate huffs and changes lanes, rolling his eyes when the Suburban behind us honks. “That’ll take longer.”

“We’ve got three hours before she arrives. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

I chuckle, earning myself a glare in the mirror.

I turn my head toward the window to hide my smile.

Soon enough, we find ourselves on Lake Shore Drive, and I press my forehead against the window, admiring the tall buildings on the left and the lake on the right.

I catch glimpses of joggers and families at the beach, groups of friends laughing and eating ice cream. I can’t wait to be one of them.

As we leave the city behind, Eric asks, “Tessa? Why aren’t those little fuckers from school on your list? I would have thought after what they did, you’d want revenge on them too.”

My blood runs cold. I replay what he just said, and every muscle in my body locks. He turns around in the passenger seat, his brows lowering at my wide-eyed shock. “But… but you already took care of them,” I reply, my voice wavering. Right? That had to be them.

The sound of an approaching motorcycle sends me reeling. No, no, no. It can’t be. Everything I thought I knew crumbles to dust when Stalker sidles up alongside us, once again turning his head to face me as if he can see past the heavily tinted windows.

“It’s not you,” I whisper, my mind spinning.

“What?” Eric asks, his eyes darkening. “What’s not me?”

Stalker sidles up to the front and reaches his arm out, making a gun symbol with his fingers before revving his engine and tearing off, disappearing between the cars in front of us.

“I saw that fucker hanging around the event center before graduation,” Nate says, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. “What the fuck is going on, Tessa? Do you know who that is?”

A lump forms in my throat, and I shake my head. “I-I thought he was you.”

“Explain.”

Stalker isn’t them. Nate and Eric didn’t punish Jacob, Nash, Oliver, and Michael.

Did they…? “Do daffodils hold any importance to you?” Jesus.

What if they didn’t leave those, either?

That means… fuck. Stalker is actually a stalker, unless he didn’t leave those either, and there’s a third party in the mix.

Nausea stirs in my belly, threatening to bring up all the food I just ate.

Nate and Eric exchange glances before shaking their heads. “No. What do daffodils have to do with anything?” Nate asks, his voice harsh enough to startle me.

“I thought he was one of you,” I repeat before launching into my story.

I tell them about the daffodils and how they’ve been showing up for about as long as I can remember.

I tell them about seeing Stalker at the hospital and on the way to graduation, and what Stephen said about him hanging around the gates.

“What did you mean by us taking care of the boys at school? It was on our to-do list, but we didn’t have time once we found out about your wedding,” Eric asks.

I breathe out a deep breath. “Someone punished them.”

“Meaning?” Nate asks.

“Someone stripped them, hung them from the basketball hoops in the gym, and whipped them. They also carved words into their foreheads. It was just after I told you about them on the computer. You know, when you demanded their names. So when they turned up like that, I assumed it was you.”

The front seat goes silent while they digest my words. I twist my fingers in my lap, unease spreading through me with its chilly claws.

“Why didn’t you mention any of this before?” Eric asks.

I wet my lips before shrugging. “I guess I never thought to. When the daffodils started coming, I was pretty young. Over the years, they just became a normal occurrence, I suppose. As for Stalker, he showed up right after I asked you for help, so I assumed it was you. Same for what happened to my classmates. You requested their names, so of course I thought you’d taken care of it. ”

Nate drums his fingers on the wheel before meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Is there anything else you haven’t told us? Even if it seems insignificant, it’s better we know than not.”

I rack my brain but come up empty. “I can’t think of anything, but if I do, I’ll tell you.”

Nate nods once and turns his attention back to the road. We sit in silence the rest of the way back to Willowmen as I struggle to understand what I ever did to deserve a stalker on top of everything else.