Page 57 of Don't Trust Him

I’m not losing my fucking mind.

This war is coming on strong, and it’s not between Grayson and me, it is waged by us. Just like it will be won by us.

Because if damnation is coming, I want it at Grayson’s side. If we have to stand atop a pile of bodies to get to the top, so fucking be it.

“I’m not stopping. I would go through you to have everything. But there’s room for one more at the top. Just one,” I say, licking my lips.

He presses his face so close to mine that Grayson's nose touches mine. “There’s room because you’re sitting on my cock at the top. Baby, you’re my queen, like you said. My goddess. Through all of this shit, I have no doubt you could kill me any time you wanted. But you and I have something that didn’t start in this life, and it won’t end in this one. You’re mine. I’m yours. Always.”

He coughs, choking up blood, and hot tears stream down my cheeks as he collapses against me.

Grayson Teague died just 40 seconds later.

Thirty-Three

Eliza

Grayson Teague fucking died in my arms, and it is because I killed him.

I can’t think. I can’t breathe. In my head, my skin is burning. Covered in gasoline. I smell it. I feel it. I know I’ve gone fucking crazy right now.

Grayson, the love of my life...

His heart stopped and I held him against me for two seconds before I flipped him over and tried to restart his life. I screamed out to every god and every devil that I’d have him back. That Grayson couldn’t die like this.

The car finally showed up— with doctors in it—and restarted his heart, and I sat next to him, cradling him best I could, for hours while they gave him drug after drug and did every surgical move imaginable to save him.

No one said a word to me for a long time unless it was to tell me they were sterilizing me, draping me, because every medical procedure happened like I was attached. I wouldn’t separate from Grayson’s side. The guards showed up and stood in front of me for three hours before Rafe handed me an In-N-Out burger.

“Eat,” Rafe says, his words cold and sharp and cutting through my foggy head just for a second.

“No,” I say in a small voice. “I can’t,” I whimper out.

“You have to,” Rafe says, shoving a greasy bag with a double-double, animal style, my way.

Rafe is such a constant and I’d be lost without him right now. Rafe knew that I wouldn’t kick his ass for saying what need to be said. He took care of things. He never took my shit.

And he’s a tough motherfucker. The one I trusted to get Grayson and I out of here.

How can I ever thank him enough for helping me save the love of my life?

Everything floods over me at once. Remembering the dingy scent of the warehouse. The clang of the chains.

The way Grayson’s eyes took in mine.

How I want to suffocate, remembering what I did to Grayson.

Things I said to Zario.

Zario’s alive now by the grace of borrowed fucking time.

I know that we have other things to contend with, but one day I’m going to bathe in that fucker’s blood.

Thirty-Four

Eliza

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