She steps out of the shadows in front of me. “A chuisle,”I sigh as my eyes race to check every visible inch of her for signs of harm. “Are you hurt? Where is he?”
“Right in front of me.” She strides closer, a darkness heavy in her eyes, as I consider her words, both now and seconds ago. She stops a few feet in front of me and twirls the tip of a blade identical to the one from the pig on her finger. “And such a good boy following directions. Do you think you deserve a reward?”
I swallow my confusion, trying to process what the fuck is happening while also rejoicing that she seems to be safe and unharmed. “Harlow, what is this about?” I tug on the cuffs as I sit up to lean closer to her.
She holds up the knife so it glints in the lantern light, peering at it in awe. “I was going to use a gun—which, thank you for the lessons. Now, I’ll be sure not to miss. But a knife felt more poetic, no?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Are you on something?”
“No, baby. I’m as clearheaded as ever.” Venom drips from her tone, and when she calls me baby, it’s cold and bitter. She pulls a gold chain from the cleavage of her red, satin dress.
“A necklace? You think I’m sneaking around on you or some bullshit?”
“Fuck you, Cash,” she snaps and lunges forward, tipping my chin up with the flat of her knife. “Treat me like a dumb bimbo again, and I swear to god I’ll slit your throat and enjoy every fucking second of it.”Christ.
Nothing is making sense. The anger and hatred in Harlow’s eyes is pure and unadulterated. That is real.
She digs the sharp edge of the blade against my Adam’s apple, and I sense her itching to cut deeper. I’ve been around enough killers to know bloodlust when I see it. And right now, she wants to kill me with every fiber of her being.
She stands upright and talks with her hands, waving the knife around. “Setting up the Den was actually quite cathartic, and I’m glad, because if I didn’t get some of this rage out earlier, I’m not sure I would have been able to stop myself from killing you on sight.” It feels like I was just sucker punched.
“That…was…you?” My words are stilted as my voice shakes with emotion.
“Go after what’s most precious, isn’t that what you taught me?” The sickening glee in her voice sends chills down my spine. “Now, I have to give it to you, Cash, you wereveryconvincing.”
“Harlow—”
“I vomited, you know. When I found Beth’s necklace in your little hiding place. The thought of having just fucked you made me physically ill.”
I laugh as her words from earlier click.Where is he? Right in front of me.
“Oh, so we’re back on this bullshit, huh?”
Harlow
Back on this bullshit.3
I didn’t think my body could contain any more fury. I guess I was wrong.
“What made you harder? Killing Beth or comforting me while I mourned her?”
He tongues the inside of his bottom lip. “Neither. Because I didn’t fucking kill her.”
I thrust the knife at his throat again and watch as his pulse remains unbelievably stable. He looks…bored.I can’t threaten him with pain or even death. He’s not scared of mortal things. So, what if I give him what he wants most and then threaten to take it away? He nearly went to war with the Bratva for me. What else will he do for me?
I lift my dress, his gaze following the motion of the deep-red material up my thigh to where I sheath my knife in a thigh holster. I step up to him and can’t deny the power I feel forcing him to look up at me. I’m disgusted, but not surprised, when I see him straining in his pants.
“One last fuck before you kill me?” he says when I straddle his lap, one eyebrow cocked.
I don’t answer his question and set my face to stone as I begin unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes darken and he never takes his gaze off my face, even when I keep mine fixed on the task. I pull his shirt open and palm his chest above the beating organ. “Stella warned me about this. Said you didn’t have a heart.”
“I do. It’s you.A chuisle mo chroí.” The pulse of my heart.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” I say as I unfasten his pants with surprisingly steady fingers. “That I fell in love with my best friend’s killer or that you genuinely believe yourself capable of loving me after everything you’ve done.” Because that's the thing, I know Cashthinkshe loves me. Maybe in some twisted trophy type of way. But it’s real to him.
“I do love you,a chuisle.”His words are an arrow to my heart. Sharp. Painful. Deadly. Because I want to believe them and not his lies. I want there to be something to explain away the necklace, but there isn’t. And if I let myself fall into them, it will kill me too.
I pull his pants down, and he lifts his hips to help me, his dick standing between us. “I don’t want your love confession. I want your murder confession.”