Kings of Quarantine (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #1) - Caroline Peckham ,Susanne Valenti Page 0,174

yanked me in for a fierce kiss. Adrenaline spiked through my blood as he crushed me back against the dirt wall, his fingers tangling in my hair as he groaned like he was in pain.

I could taste my tears on our lips and he drank them hungrily, the full force of his body pinning me against the earth. His tongue invaded my mouth with desperate strokes and the fire in him burned right through to my core, igniting everything along the way.

I started kissing him back, lost to the voracious passion in him as it brought every part of my being to life. It was wrong, twisted, wholly fucked up. But I wanted him in that moment. I wanted him to taste my pain and I wanted to taste his back. And somewhere between it all, there was just two people grieving, aching, hurting. And in that kiss was a relief I’d never thought I’d feel. A dulling of that eternal pain inside me.

Blake broke the kiss and the fire in my veins gave way to the icy cold of the grave once more. Our breaths fogged between us as we panted. Reality was as sharp as a blade slicing into my flesh.

“Never, ever tell the others about this,” Blake warned and my throat constricted.

“Never,” I swore. But not because I cared to follow his orders. But because this crazy, fucked up moment was ours. It didn’t make it right, or good. I couldn’t forgive him for dragging me here and pointing a gun in my face. But I also knew what grief did to a person. I knew it ate away at who you were, gnawing until there was nothing but a bloody wound that begged for redemption. I was Blake’s redemption. And for some strange, messed up reason, I had a feeling he might be mine.

“I need to run some errands,” Saint said abruptly, pulling my attention from the Xbox where my character was battering a zombie’s head in with a baseball bat full of nails. Nice.

“Errands?” I asked casually, my gaze fixed on the screen. Speaking fluent Saint was a fucking life skill that I deserved a medal for. Errands did not mean popping to the shops or going to visit friends in Saint speak. Oh no, errands meant that someone had stepped out of line and he was going to fuck them up for it.

“Yeah.”

“You need me?” I asked, hoping that this particular errand might need his ass kicking. My blood had been getting hotter and hotter for the last few days. Spending so much time locked up in The Temple during that quarantine bullshit hadn’t suited me at all. I was a wild animal and I wasn’t meant for a cage. Not even a gilded one.

“Not this time. Just some jumped up little Susan who needs knocking down a peg. It’s better suited to me and Blake. Besides…” Saint stepped closer to me and I actually looked up from my game at the growl in his voice. “With the way Blake‘s been with her recently, I don’t think we should let him be around Tatum unless we’re both there too. Just until we can be sure he’s not going to lose it entirely. I’m all for fucking her up as much as he needs to, but if he kills her that’s a whole other level of shit landing on our doorstep.”

“Naw, Blake might have gone batshit but he’s not the killing kind,” I said, though I had to admit some of the things he’d been saying recently sounded like he’d come close to snapping like that once or twice. But I’d known a few killers in my time and I knew Blake Bowman better than I knew myself. He was a lot of things. But a killer? I couldn’t see it.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Do you want to risk our pet’s life on it?” Saint asked and I pushed my tongue into my cheek as I considered that.

My gaze skimmed across the room to the kitchenette where Tatum was busy washing up after our dinner. She was making enough noise for me to be fairly sure she couldn’t hear us and my gaze trailed over her as I wondered whether Saint had a point. I did like having her around. It was refreshing. Something new in a life that was so predictable. And she wasn’t half bad to look at. Not half bad at all. No was the answer, I didn’t like the sound of that