“It went fine,” I grunted and readjusted my cock.
‘Fine’ was a slight overstatement, but I could always wait to explain later.
When Marnie lifted her head, the sight of those bright aqua depths was like a punch in the gut.
“Well, I hope you’re not….” She stopped and narrowed her gaze. “Is that blood on your shirt?”
Goddamnit. Fucking white shirt. I never wore white.
“Yes,” I said, not wanting to explain further.
When her eyes widened, I damn near fucked her right then and there.
“It’s not mine.” I felt pride like never before at that moment. Marnie Dupire was still worried about me despite her anger and hatred.
Then she ruined it. “Who’s blood is it?”
Fuck. Just do it, Preston.
I sucked in a deep breath and said, “Derek Adams.”
She straightened up, and I didn’t like the expression etched on her face. It pulled at my gut and pissed me off. The only person she should be concerned about was me. I didn’t want to share that with anyone, let alone Derek.
“Is he okay?”
The look I gave her said it all. Tears brimmed in her eyes as the corner of her mouth dipped down, and I stood there asking myself why I couldn’t just say the words, ‘He’s dead.’ It wasn’t a hard task. I didn’t give a shit about him, but I did give a shit about her. Was this what love felt like?
Fuck me.
“How?”
That one whispered word tore a hole of rage through me.
Suddenly, I wanted to hunt down the fucker that did this and make him suffer. Peel his skin back while Marnie watched, and then fuck her over his corpse.
“He took a bullet for Micha.”
Why did I say it like that? Instead of a nice, simple, and to the point, ‘He was shot.’
“Of course he did. Derek’s a good man….” She stopped to take a breath. “He was a good man.”
He was alright. A little uptight and stubborn as hell, but alright. I didn’t have anything against him.
“Micha should’ve been the one who got shot.”
I doubted Riley would agree, but okay.
“But why would the world start being fair now?”
Fairness was a matter of perspective.
“The world doesn’t give a shit about you, Little Bird, or what you think is fair.” It was time for her to emerge from her self-imposed cloud of safety. It was an illusion. “You’ll die waiting for the world to bend to your will. If you want something, you have to take it.”
I saw the breakdown starting, the quiver in Marnie’s bottom lip, and her shoulders slumped. But it was the glimmer of something else that caught my eye. It gave me an idea.
Back at the church, Marnie said something about Nash and my jacket. I didn’t put it together until I heard her say ‘I was seven’ to her father. He didn’t fuck her, that much I knew, but Nash did something to her.
“Come with me.” I held my hand out. “I want to show you something.”
