Page 129 of Boy of Ruin
And I don’t need to say anything because Maverick speaks first. “She’s going back with me. Shut the door.”
Lucifer smiles, a dimple flashing in his pale face. “No.” His eyes stay on mine. “This is her house.” He has one hand on the top of the truck, the other flicking the switch as the front seat folds forward, allowing me room to step out and down, into the warm spring night.
But I still don’t move.
My hands are on my knees, and I shake my head, unwilling to budge. “I’m going to—”
“Get out of the fucking truck, Lilith.”
“If you don’t shut the goddamn door, Luce, I’m going to fuck you up.” Maverick’s words are irritated. Impatient.
Lucifer’s blue eyes narrow, his lean jaw clenched. He blows out a breath, but I know he isn’t going to give this up. Before he can say anything though, we hear shouting.
From down the street.
Angry. Loud. Someone calling their names.
Lucifer’s head darts up as he looks toward the source of the noise.
“The fuck?” Maverick hisses, glancing in the side view mirror.
“It’s from Ezra’s house,” Lucifer says in his raspy voice, sounding concerned.
“Goddammit.” That curse is a snarl and Maverick applies the emergency brake, shuts the truck off and hops out, slamming the door shut behind him.
Leaving me with Lucifer.
Lucifer’s eyes find mine, as if he’s thinking exactly that, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a wicked little smile. “Gotcha, baby girl.” Then he reaches into the back of the truck, undoes my seatbelt, and grabs my wrist, yanking me out, pushing me against the side of the truck as my bare feet stumble on the cement of the driveway.
He closes the door, the screaming getting louder. More people joining in with the shouting.
Silence from the bed of the truck.
From Jeremiah.
Lucifer’s hand is planted against my chest, but he drags it down, his fingers skimming my belly, then coming to rest on my low tummy, over my shirt, one hand planted against the side of the truck, beside my head as he stares down at me.
I try not to wince with his fingers digging into the spot Jeremiah carved his initial into me. I don’t want to deal with that shit.
“What’s going on?” I ask, wanting to know even as I want my brother free. If no one is paying attention to him, they’ll leave him alone.
Let him sleep.
And when he wakes up, I promise myself he’ll wake up free. Whatever it takes to get him there.
“I don’t know,” Lucifer purrs, tilting his head. “Let’s go inside.”
A warm breeze blows through the night, lifting the hairs on the back of my neck as I think about being alone with Lucifer. In our house.
A house of fucking nightmares, the last few weeks I was there.
And on our couch, Maddox had—
“Lucifer, get your ass over here!” Maverick’s words are harsh, and Lucifer jerks his head up, looking in the direction of Atlas’s house.
Lucifer groans, rolling his eyes.
“Now!” The word is a bellow, and urgent.
