Page 255 of Satan's Spawn
“That’s a coward's response and you know it.” I turn to walk away but Crayton snatches my arm, pulling me back and into his chest so he can rest his forehead against mine.
“Give me a little time, Rebecca, please. It’s not easy to claw your way out of a lifetime of violence. There’s no magic button to turn off destructive instincts.”
I look up at him to find complete sincerity in his slow and steady breaths. “The only person I’ve ever felt this strongly for is the man who took a chance on a little kid who killed his mother.”
My. Entire. Heart.
It aches for him, so much tears begin welling in my eyes.
With a deep inhale and exhale of my own, I lower my defenses enough to let him know I’ll grant him his time and my patience.
Crayton kisses me deeply, possessively.
As if saying thank you for accepting his madness.
But there’s no reason to when I find so much beauty in it.
Beauty that makes his request impossible to deny.
And his broken pieces impossible not to love.
40
BEX
Nobody has seen Alexis since the day she ambushed us on the football field, word from Archer being that her Dad took her back home for familial purposes.
None of us believe it, obviously.
We also don’t care enough to find out the truth.
All I give a shit about is her being gone and Crayton relaxing enough to give me back his full attention. To prove he will try to be more transparent.
Little did I know that would result in constant oversharing.
When he takes a shit.
When Saint takes a shit.
The pornos Riggs likes to jerk off to.
The girls Levi tries to fuck.
In between Crayton’s mourning for his knife, it’s been over two weeks of word vomit and reassurances that I see how much he’s been trying to open up to me.
It warms my heart watching him break down those iron clad walls to let me inside. Crayton may still be everyone else’s villain, but every day he proves why he’s become my hero.
A dark and twisted, sexy, homicidal hero.
But mine nonetheless.
Massaging the last of the shampoo through my hair, I try to ignore the sharp pains shooting through my stomach and the bloody mess staining the bottom of the shower.
Add on the Royal pain in my ass standing outside of the stall complaining about my need to take such a late shower—cruel annoying torture.
Men will never understand how brutal a woman’s cycle can be. Why a nice hot shower can become a small mercy to a shedding uterus.
Lucky bastards got it so easy.
