Page 92 of Burn Like An Angel

Working Lennox’s length over, I call the final victory. His huge cock jerks in my hand, mirroring his sudden grunt into my mouth, and I feel sticky ribbons hit my lower belly.

We separate, his lips rapidly pecking mine when I steal a final taste. I love how closely his pale-green eyes resemble a seaborne storm right now. Unruly and uncontrollable.

“I look forward to it,” I purr, releasing his dick. “Preferably away from prying ears. My roommates seem to have no sense of privacy.”

Snorting, he looks down in embarrassment. That’s when he notices the saturated bandage on my thigh, now leaking thin trails of crimson.

Lennox pierces me with a glower. “What the fuck?”

“Erm… it was an accident?”

“Raine!” He pushes me away from him even as I start laughing. “I’m going to fucking kill him!”

CHAPTER 14

RIPLEY

HATE ME NOW – RYAN CARAVEO

Time passes differentlywhen you’re running for your life.

It’s broken flashes.

Disjointed. Rapid.

Staring out the window at the dreary, grey sky hanging over the hotel, I breathe a matching cloud onto the glass and watch the condensation drip down. The droplets fall slowly, sluggish and tiresome.

It’s a total contrast to the energy burning me from inside out. I thought it would’ve fizzled out after several sleepless nights in the crappy hotel we moved to. That usually does the trick. But not this time around.

The door beeps on the other side of the double room before it clicks open. I recognise Lennox’s thudding footsteps. He stomps around like he’s determined to shake the earth with his weight alone.

“That son of a bitch turns my stomach,” he hisses as the door slams shut.

I turn around to check him over. There’s a hollow ache in my stomach that triples at the sight of the food bag clutched in hishands. Lennox offers me a tense smile, pulling his healing facial cut.

He heads for the small table opposite the bathroom. “We’re lining his fucking pockets just to keep his mouth shut.”

Focused on the newspaper clasped in his hands, Xander lounges on one of the double beds. He spares Lennox a dismissive look over the lines of typed ink that have held his attention for the past hour.

“We’re paying over the odds in cash for the hotel’s discretion. No IDs and no questions asked. Suck it up, Nox.”

“The owner is rinsing us for every goddamn penny!”

Xander shrugs. “We can cover it.”

“With more stolen cash?” he retorts.

“If you’d like to offer an alternative solution, be my guest.”

With that, Xander disappears back behind his apparently fascinating newspaper. The man’s living on a different planet if he thinks the answers to all our problems are printed in that thing.

The media is still acting like we’re the bad guys for inciting the riot. All the limited coverage we’ve seen has been unfairly biased. Apparently, unstable patients overtook Harrowdean. Unprovoked and with the intent to cause maximum destruction.

What’s worse is the fact that people are actually swallowing it. Even with rumours of medical malpractice and abuse running rampant. The narrative that we’re the instigators is a more palatable truth.

There’s been no mention of Rick, Rae or the others in the media. The official public line is that all remaining detainees in Harrowdean have been secured and transferred elsewhere. I’m sure Rick didn’t make it that far, though. Like us, he knows too much.

Lennox drops the paper bag on the table. “I know we had to move on at some point, but holing up so close to the city feels like an unnecessary risk. We should pack up and leave.”

---