Page 275 of Remiss
“Um…what?”
He tightened his hold on her, kissed the top of her head, and grinned at the ceiling, visions of torture and death dancing in his head. “Easton a Scorpion, baby. You know? A fuckin’ plant. Should I carve out his eyeballs first or cut off his fuckin’ fingertips.”
She was silent for a moment. Then, she sighed, kissed his shoulder, and left him. Not to go far. She just sat the fuck up, but that wasn’t close enough for him.
He reached for her but she scooted away.
“What the fuck I said?” he asked warily, sitting up, too.
“You can’t kill Easton.”
Christopher stiffened, narrowed his eyes, and growled. Shoving the covers aside, he stormed to his feet, heading to his cut, but Megan jumped out of bed and raced in front of him.
“Move,” he snarled. “Ima scoop him the fuck uptofuckinight! I ain’t givin’ that motherfucker a chance to take you on a fuckin’ date.”
Irritation slid across her face and she poked his shoulder. “That’s not why I said that.”
“Ain’t no other motherfuckin’ reason,” he raged, then turned away and started pacing. “I shoulda killed that motherfucker when I had the fuckin’ chance. You know what? Fuck scoopin’ him up. Ima cut off his cock and leave him to fuckin’ bleed to death.”
She dug her heels in and planted herself in front of him, gripping his wrists.
If he was a stupid motherfucker, he’d snatch himself away, not giving a fuck if she stumbled. Since he’d learned the fucking lesson she’d taught him, he didn’t move a motherfucking muscle, although he did glower at her. Not that it fucking worked. She just lifted her perfect, blonde brow, silently asking him if he’d lost his fucking mind to test her again after she’d just left him because he was…
Fuck. Maybe he was putting too much credence into the lift of her eyebrow.
He heaved in a breath. “You said I could fuckin’ kill,” he grouched petulantly.
“I did, but there are certain people youcan’tkill. Remember, I said that too.”
“Easton wasn’t on that fuckin’ list, Megan,” he barked, jealous.
“He is now.”
He tugged his wrists, testing if she’d release him, but nope.
“Ask me why,” she said, sweet and soothing, her beautiful face staring at him with expectation.
“Can I have my fuckin’ hands back?”
“Why?”
“To scrub one of those motherfuckers over my face cuz I’m so fuckin’ frustrated. How the fuck you flippin’ the motherfuckin’ script on meafuckingain. I want to kill that motherfucker in particular.”
She released his wrists and he promptly did what the fuck he said he would. “I’m not flipping the script, Christopher. I’m saying you can’t kill Easton because neither CJ nor Rory wants him to die.”
“Then those two lil’ motherfuckers…” Hold the fuck up. Stop the fucking press. Megan…was she…?
Yeah. Yeah the fuck she was. Shewascampaigning to save a motherfucker’s life.
Christopher almost stopped breathing. He thought about his next step, needing to test where the fuck her mind was at.
“Whatcha willin’ to do to convince me?”
Hell Goddess would tell him she wouldn’t do fuck all. He’d listen to her or else. But his Sweet Angel…? She’d play his game.
“That depends,” she cooed, looking at him through her lashes.
A beat of silence passed.
