Page 36 of Buried in Blood
“No offense,” he mutters, “but I don’t like broken things.”
I stop.
“So you like her because she’s whole?” I say quietly.
He freezes for just a second too long.
“I didn’t say I liked anyone.”
We step outside. The air is cold. The Orchard smells like smoke and bleach and history.
“You ever wonder what I’d do to someone who touched what’s mine?” I ask, voice like acid on your skin.
Hemeets my eyes.
“No. Because I wouldn’t be that stupid.”
And I can’t tell if that’s a warning or a promise.
Either way—I’m watching him now. Like a hawk before the dive. Because something’s not adding up. And if I’m right… Then I’ll be carving both their names into the fucking floorboards before the week’s out.
I think I’ll stay here tonight.
Maybe enjoy one of the girls for myself.
Just in case.
An eye for an eye.
* * *
I get back to the house in the morning, and Harmony is coiled up into a ball on the couch. Sleeping.
What a waste of fucking time. I couldn’t tell you the last time I slept for more than four hours. Let alone in the middle of the fucking day. It’s not even two in the afternoon.
Reese isn’t here. Smart man.
If I catch them even looking at each other, they are fucking dead. I don’t allow betrayal.
“Wake the fuck up,” I say loudly. Her eyes jolt open.
“I need to ask you a few questions.”
I sit on the couch next to her. Her eyes dart around the room as if she were watching a tennis match. She looks fucking guilty.
“O-okay,” she says.
“Did you fuck Reese?”
Her face blanches.
“No. Why would you even ask me that?” She sounds defensive.
“Did you ever kiss Reese?”
A blush paints her cheeks. Horrible fucking liar.
“No. Never.”
