Maybe worshiping him—worshippingus—this magical connection weaving around our souls, is what God wanted us to know. To rejoice in. To feel. And know we’re alive.
His finger pulls free with an audiblepop, the salty sweetness of him coating my tongue.
“Good girl.”
29
SILAS
The fresh scent of soap and the aroma of bleach fills my helmet as I speed down the freeway. My brothers follow close behind, the seven of us leaving the old zoo and messy remains of our latest victim to the cleaners. I much prefer the desert to the city. It’s more secure, as Noctis keeps mentioning, but with the number of leads we’ve been burning through, L.A. will have to do.
“Another dead end,” Mavros growls into our connected helmets.
“Literally,” Erik chimes in, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. Crazy bastard. In his defense, all of the men we’ve questioned—and then disposed of—have been guilty of associating with the southern circuit. As far as I’m concerned, we’re just weeding out the garden before setting it on fire.
“I’ll run the search again,” Noctis grumbles, weaving around a pickup truck to pull ahead.
“Aww, don’t be like that,” Erik mock-whines. “We all make mistakes.”
Noctis strings together a colorful slew of curses before switching off his mic, leaving the rest of us chuckling.In all seriousness though, I’m fucking gutted we’re back to square one.
“Dominic, Bane, Adrian—make sure he makes it home safe.” My brothers acknowledge the request before their motorcycles chase after Noctis, leaving Mavros, Erik, and me.
Part of me wants to join them. It’s been a week since Evie got her IUD placed, two since I almost spread her thighs and fucked her in that little white dress at Bane’s place.Cravingdoesn’t even begin to describe what I feel. Obsession. Addiction. Driven to the point of fucking insanity. I’m lost—strung out and bleeding with only one cure in sight.
My grip tightens on the handlebars as I remember the way her tongue ran along the underside of my cock. Tentative at first, then curious. My little fox might be new to the darker side, but she thrives in the shadows.
I set up the appointment at the campus clinic for the next day, assuming she’d come back with brochures on safe sex and a paper bag full of condoms. But Evie showed up at the house green in the face with sweat beaded across her brow.
Apparently, the doctor insisted on placing the IUD that day, saying something about “the consequences of her actions” and how an IUD was “less painful than childbirth.” As if he had any fucking clue.
After carrying her upstairs, tucking her into bed, and demanding a shit-ton of pain-killers, I had Noctis run a full profile on the doctor in question. Turns out, he’s a regular at the church Evie’s family attends. I had him begging for his god in seconds and granted him the mercy of meeting Him shortly after. He’s finding out now whether his god is more forgiving than I am.
“Are we following?” Erik asks, pulling up alongside me.
“Not yet.” I switch off comms with the others, leaving just Erik, Mavros, and myself. The Seven’s locations always remainopen. It’s a safety thing Noctis insists on, but I’ve got a hunch I need to follow before returning home.
We’ve interrogated six suspects in the last two weeks, none of whom knew where Morana might be. Despite our failure, my gut says we’re getting closer. Shane might be lying, but after confirming his story about his daughter and absent ex, I believe the bastard didn’t know the depth of the shit he was mixed up in. And then there’s Mark. That poor fuck had no reason to lie. And they both named Jonah. Shane knew him as a drop point, and Mark claimed he took over operations.
Noctis searched the Blue Lagoon thoroughly with nothing to show for it, which isn’t unusual if it’s just an exchange point, but…
“Are you two up for a detour?”
“Anytime, boss,” Erik says. “There’s a new taco place just before Del Mar I’ve been dying to try.”
“No,” I cut in before his stomach derails the entire day. “A work trip.”
There’s a beat of silence before Mavros speaks. “You got an itch?”
“Something like that,” I answer, splitting lanes between two cars and picking up speed. They follow me, the three of us sliding into the flow of traffic, pushing the boundaries of the speed limit.
“No word from Shane?” I ask.
“No,” Erik confirms. “I touched base with him this morning. He’s keeping his head down. Still swears the only person he met with was some asshole named Jonah.”
“Only at the golf course?” I press.
“Pretty sure,” Erik says slowly, like he’s digging for the memory. “Want me to call him?”
