Page 112 of Boy of Ruin
Maybe because I think it’ll never last.
And besides that…as happy as Lucifer made me sometimes…the other times, they were fucking hell.
My hand goes to my belly, and fear floods through me all over again.
Not just from the 6. They’re not here. They might find us eventually, but I know Jeremiah won’t let them touch me. He won’t let them, and he’ll fight for me. Destroy all of them.
But he’s part of the reason I’m terrified.
He said he’d raise this child as his own. I think, if it comes out looking the slightest bit like his brother, he might kill it.
Fucking him was everything I’d imagined it to be.
But I wonder if now…I could just get him out of my system?
I have a feeling he wouldn’t let me do that. Why do I always want to fuck shit up?
I sink my teeth into my lip, tasting blood from where Jeremiah bit me this morning.
The rough skin of his name on my belly snags beneath my index finger.
For a split second, my heart drops.
If Lucifer ever saw that…
But he let me go. When I ran for him to have space to heal, he fucking let me go by being with Ophelia. Julie.
And he let Jeremiah suffer.
Startling me from my thoughts, I hear the door catch.
Behind my eyelids, everything seems to go dark and my eyes fly open, seeing nothing in the mirror that’s vanished from view. There’s no window in this guest bathroom and besides that, it’s nightfall. Ria, Nicolas, and Jeremiah headed down to a little shop within walking distance to get some kindle for a bonfire.
Nicolas convinced J to go, because he didn’t want to leave me. But he was a little high, his eyes glassy, a smile permanently affixed to his handsome face.
I told him I’d be fine.
Now, a sense of unease washes over me.
“Jeremiah?” I whisper, making to turn toward the bathroom door.
But just as I start, a hand comes over mine on my belly, threading through my fingers, touching my bare skin.
I flinch, startled, my breath hitching.
Another hand comes to my throat, fingers curling tight around me, but not quite cutting off my air supply.
I lean into Jeremiah’s touch, but as I do, I inhale.
I feel the difference in the body at my back, compared to Jeremiah’s.
Lean muscle is behind me, different than J’s bulk.
And that scent…pine.
And nicotine.
My pulse races, and the hand threaded through mine presses tighter against my low belly. The one around my throat tightens.
