Page 25 of Burn for Me

I turn as a finger pokes between my shoulder blades to find Sharkie rubbing her hand to her eye with a drunken giggle, but when she realizes I'm not him, her facial expression drops.

“Im fucking tired. Are you going to stand there gawking, or are you going to move so I can–” I cut off Sharkies slurred attempt of sternness by stepping to the side.

I raise a brow in Caspian's direction.‘They can find a solution,’my arse. It looks like the only thing they found was the gin.

“The breakfast date idea was smart, Sam. She seems more confident.” Sharkie says while running and jumping into Tides' arms.

“Did you two talk about anything we need to know?” I grumble instead of addressing the comment.

“Uh…” Sharkie trails off, her eyes fluttering shut as she leans her head into Caspian's chest, and he gives me a shrug. I don't stay to watch their public display of affection. I'm already on my way to check on Jasmine.

Logically, I know I physically saw the proof that I haven't looked over anything–I did my job–but I feel like the screamsare creeping back in, threatening to take over. There are only two things that will keep my mind from spiraling: my little devil or taking a life.

Stopping in front of the large steel door, I try the handle, but it’s already locked; I pull out my phone and hack the system.

I need her.

The weight of the barrier groans beneath my palm, and I squint into the vast darkness. A small ray of light illuminates the water, cascading shimmering lines along the edge of the bed. I close the door gently, keeping my steps light as I approach Jasmine, lying sprawled on her stomach. Her arms are tucked beneath her head, and her hair falls over her face, unaware of the shadow crawling up her wall. The sheets are draped over her hips, and her sleep top exposes the length between her shoulder blades.

Even with her features innocent and relaxed, I can see the devil camouflaged by her skin.

It's not red and covered in blood like mine, but it's there in the most unholy ways. It's not the same sins of murder as my own; it's vanity and seduction making a heady combo when I imagine the hell we could create together.

It’s thrilling.Almost as exciting as the times I spent sneaking around dusty buildings for my next target—the feeling of being completely invisible, knowing someone is utterly oblivious to my presence.

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear like I was so desperate to do this morning. She doesn't budge, so I watch her pulse point.How would she react to waking up with me standing over her? Would her eyes go wide? Would she beg me to leave? Would she act like all my other victims?

Taking a deep breath, I step back and round the bed, examining her form and each rise and fall of her back.

It's such a tempting situation.

My hands brace on either side of her legs as I slowly move closer, tracing my lips over her smooth skin—skin that the scars of battle have never marked.

That’s fine; I’ll create our own war so she can wear our memories on her flesh.

She smells so fucking good that I have to bury my head in the crook of her neck, fully expecting her to squirm away or push me off. Instead, she lets out a sigh. Even when my teeth sink into her shoulder, she doesn’t pull back. Instead, her head tilts slightly, and a giggle escapes her, quickening my heartbeat as I drag my tongue over the sore spot.

“Sam?” Jasmine breathes out, and I slide my hand around her waist until it's on her abdomen, pulling her hips into the air and against my cock. It's a warning; I will ruin her in every way possible.

“Sam?” My name comes again, but my hands aren't dipping into the bed; they're pressing into a cold floor while water flows down a drain. I jerk my wrist, grappling for the body that was just below me. Instead of my fingers dipping into the soft skin, they're gripping chains linked to metal bottom. Beads of water drip from my hair to the ground, and I'm gasping for breath. Faces are blurred behind the glass enclosure, my vision is speckling with black spots, but I'm fucking fuming.

“See, boy, I told you it wouldn't be too bad. Are you mad?” Carlisle taunts, stepping forward and slamming an image against the barrier. The water is filling back up, encircling my knees, but I can't stand and run from it, so I steady my breathing, knowing I won't get air for long.

“These are the people you can blame for it.” He continues, and my brows furrow as I examine each secret military society leader, memorizing every feature of their face. Yes, they will pay for the hell I have to go through to get to them, but the one who sold me to this war is the one driving my motivation.

One day, he will see the beast he created.

The water goes over my head again, and I close my eyes, ready to suck in the liquid, and just give up, but instead of water filling my lungs, it’s smoke as I crouch without restraint.

A cigarette butt slowly burns out against the ground. Teeth marks encircle the filter, and the gurgled cough from below makes me wonder if he's coughing from the blood pooling in his lungs or from the years he’s spent inhaling these things.

“God damn it,” I mutter under my breath, pulling myself out of yet another hallucination as I slide into the chair by her bed. I run my hand through my hair, trying to steady myself. I need to keep her safe for my sanity;I need to prove I can do it.How can one person make me want to be better and so much worse simultaneously?

I don't know if keeping her safe from myself is an option anymore. The fine line between fake and real has blurred for me for so long now that our marriage has to stay consistent with one of those things, so I have some form of order.

She’s always been mine, and now it’s until death do us part—but even then, we’ll rule hell together.

I pull out my phone, knowing I won't sleep much, and run through American files, trying to find my first lead on her life. If I sit here listening to her soft breathing for long enough, I'll know I'm doing something right.

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