“I don’t believe in God, but I do believe they were saints for putting up with me.”
She sniffs. “Well, I don’t either, but if Heaven exists, they’ve definitely earned their place dealing with you. You’re a naturally mean person.”
The corner of my mouth twitches again when I see how dilated her eyes are. If I lean in between her thighs, I know I would smell her. I’m at the perfect height to do so.
But she’s injured and messing around with her yesterday was already pushing things.
“Naturally,” I repeat dryly.
She clears her throat, wiping her hands on her t-shirt. “Well, that apology was very big of you, Enzo,” she compliments. “But you can, like, get up now.”
It’s getting harder to contain my grin. I stand, and she steps back into the table, causing the legs to screech against the wood floor. She looks me up and down, reminded of how much bigger I am than her. She also glimpses how hard I am for her, deepening that pretty flush on her rosy cheeks.
“I’m going to get some water, and then… then I’m going to, like, sleep or something. But tomorrow, I want to look for the beacon.”
I dip my chin. “For us both to leave,” I push, wanting to hear her agreement out loud.
She rolls her lips, rocking back and forth on her toes.
“For us both,” she says finally.
I let my smirk loose just a little when she steps around me, nearly bumping into the table again to get past. She could’ve gone the other way and had plenty of room. Whether she realizes it or not, she gravitates toward me just as I do her.
I grab her bicep, stopping her. A visceral desire to take her nearly sends me plummeting back down to my knees, and I know that if I succumb to it, she will be standing above me, her cunt resting on my lips.
Feeling her so close, yet unable to fuck her, is like asking a predator to turn its back on their prey, starved and desperate for just a taste.
“Lay down. I’ll get the water and some medicine,” I order her, my voice raspy with carnal need. I give her another once-over. “Maybe find some pants while I’m gone. I can smell your pussy from here.”
Her mouth drops. “You aresosleeping on the floor tonight.”
For her, I would.
Chapter 24
Sawyer
They say you’re never supposed to sleep with concussions. That’s common knowledge. But I’ve reached the point where I don’t care if it makes me brain dead, I’d rather be knocked out than listen to this.
There’s someone—something—weeping on the third floor, right above us. Enzo said it’s the ghost of Sylvester’s daughter, Trinity, who hung herself outside our window.
Sylvester said she cried a lot.
And her cries are making me feel physically nauseous. They’re muffled, but they sound strange. Almost like’s she’s trying to scream but can’t.
Enzo lays beside me, stiff as a board, as he stares up at the ceiling. We’re both on our backs, wide awake and disturbed.
“What do you think is worse? Suffering in life, or suffering in death?” I ask, my voice cracked and uneven.
“Death,” he answers quietly. “Then, it’s eternal.”
I turn to look at him. “Do you believe in an afterlife? You must, right? Since you were raised by nuns.”
He shakes his head. “I believe our souls either move on to somewhere unknown, get stuck, or reincarnate into another body. I never believed in what they did. They hoped God would heal my wounds and guide me in life. Thought I’d eventually become a priest and tell people my story and how I overcame it. But the more I read the Bible, the more lost I became.”
I roll to my side to face him and tuck my hands under my head. He sighs, sensing the onslaught of questions, but I’m undeterred.
“What was it like growing up?”