And for what Rhys fucking did, he deservesworse.
Part of me wants to blame Alice for being a bleeding heart, but I saw the look on her face when she was caught down there in Rhys’ cell. She was vaguely horrified and probably reliving some of the days she spent down there, but she wasn’t disgusted. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t begging us to show mercy to the poor fucker dying on that bed.
She was pissed.
She was pissed that she was left out of the loop, and it’s why I can love her in my own twisted way. It’s why I can kneel at her feet and kiss the life she’s growing. I’m excited in my own way for this baby. A small person we can shape and mold however we want.
I still don’t know if I want a tiny psychopath like my own with Alice’s sweet face and James’ sweeter disposition or if I want them to be innocent and untouched. Maybe I want them to grow up naïve and ignorant to the monsters we are inside.
I know it won’t really be my call, but this little voice inside my head tells me that I’ll probably do whatever the fuck I want, no matter what the others say.
I spend my afternoon in the playroom, sharpening my knives and refilling my chemical sets, trying to temper my frustration at knowing that Rhys is going free. It’s been a while since we’ve been out, getting our hands dirty, and the rust-colored blood from the guards Kane gifted me the night of the engagement party is starting to fade.
Their screams still echo around if I really let myself stop and remember, but it’s starting to feel like it’s not enough. The only problem is more killing isn’t taking the edge off. I want something more. I need things to change. I want Kane to stop sitting on his ass and finally declare war against those fuckers who tried to ruin us.
I don’t know what’ll come after or if I’ll just spiral into some uncontrolled lunatic who has to be put down, but I know thatthe waiting game is too much. It’s making my head spin, and there are too many people in this house I don’t want to hurt.
There’s a knock at the door just as I’m putting the last of my throwing knives away, and it opens after a beat. Only Alice ever knocks, so I’m not surprised to see her walking over toward me in her thick, fuzzy socks and leggings. She’s wearing one of James’ Henleys, and it’s hanging below her fingers, which is strangely sexy.
I wait until she’s close enough, and then I back her into my metal worktable and kiss her until she groans.
“Hey,” she says, then signs the word.
I grin at her. ‘Hi.’
She runs her fingers along my hip, reminding me I’m shirtless because it’s always fucking hot in here. Her thumb toys with my nipple, which is all bruised up from James using his prosthetic hook on it, and I hiss, making her grin.
“Did you have fun last night?”
She doesn’t have the vocabulary for that yet, and now that she’s pregnant, any rough sex is going to have to wait. I shrug instead. ‘James did.’
That makes her laugh and roll her eyes at the same time. “I bet. Are you hiding right now? Because of that Rhys guy?”
I grimace, pulling away slightly. I take in a breath of air a little too sharply, which triggers a coughing fit. It’s mostly silent, so I curl the crook of my elbow over my face until it passes. Another wave of anger hits me, and I wish Guido were here so I could make him choke on his own blood.
Her hand touches my side, and I want to wrench away, but it’s not fair to her. Just like it did for James, it’s going to take her a while to understand that soft touches are meant for normal people, and I will never be one of those.
“Sorry,” she says, like it’s her fault.
Sometimes I wish I could see her as Guido’s daughter still and hate her. Then I get lost in her dark eyes and remember she’s been a victim just like me.
Curling my fingers around her wrist, I drag her hand down to the front of my sweats. I’m not hard, but having her play with my limp dick feels nice, and she doesn’t blink twice. She just starts to rub me through the fabric.
‘He shouldn’t get to live.’ I have to sign slowly and mouth along, but she’s picking it up so fast, my pretty little genius.
‘I know,’ she signs back. ‘But Kane has a plan.’ She has to spell the last word, so I show her one of the home signs that we use, and she copies it. “Do you trust him?”
I laugh, my shoulders shaking. ‘No. But I don’t trust anyone, precious.’
Her gaze follows the sign, a clawing motion at my chin. The sign has always felt almost violent to me, which is why I love it so much. It’s why it fits her so well. Kane has been hesitant to see the beast inside her, but I know once she unleashes it, she’ll be hard to rein in.
He has no fucking idea, and it’s going to be beautiful.
She keeps rubbing me, but when I don’t get hard, she moves her hand back to my nipple and pinches until I hiss. That makes her smile, and I kiss the expression right off her face.
‘Later,’ I sign once she pulls away.
She doesn’t seem disappointed. If anything, she just looks tired and resigned, and a small piece of me wants to tear apart whoever made her feel that way. Even if it’s me. She has no idea what I’d be willing to do to myself if only she asked. If any of them ever asked.