front, and I barrel toward the car. He sees me and opens the back door as I run up. I put Evie inside as terrified partygoers rush through the Garden District yards.
“Drive. Now!” I jump in beside Evie, and when I close the door, I see Charles standing just inside the gate to Beau’s home.
“Jesus, just look at that pasty-faced terminator.”
He stares as we drive away, his face a stone mask of utter hatred.
Once we’re jetting onto a main thoroughfare, free from anyone following us, I turn back to Evie. “I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”
She’s pale, so pale I can see the veins along her throat.
“Evie.”
“You’re alive. How? He stabbed you. I thought …” Her voice breaks. “I thought he’d killed you. I thought I’d never see you again.”
For so long, I thought I didn’t have a heart. I mean, obviously I have one in my chest, the literal one. But I thought there was something missing, like I couldn’t feel the way everyone else did. But now I know that’s not true. Because the way she says those words, the anguish in her voice at the thought of me dying—fuck, I’m in love. I’m in love with this woman, and I don’t know what to do with that.
“I’m okay.” I reach inside my jacket and pull out the now-ruined iPad, the knife jutting from it. “See?”
“Thank god.” She puts her palm to my cheek. “Lucius?”
“Yes?” I kiss her palm right as she doubles over and hurls the entire contents of her stomach onto the back floorboard.
24
Evie
I wake. I know something’s off. Like I’m in the wrong place. My eyes open, and I realize I’m in a strange bed without a stitch of clothing on my body.
Bolting upright, I snatch the blanket to my chest and try to get my bearings.
“You’re at—”
I scream and strike out with the palm of my hand.
“Ow, hey!” Lucius rolls onto his back and grabs his nose. “Holy shit.”
“Where am I?” I scoot to the edge of the bed and look around.
Stark lines, minimalist furniture, a fantastic view of the woods outside the window. “I’m at your place.”
“Why would you go for my nose?” He groans.
I take a breath and shake off the fear. I’m safe. A weird laugh bubbles out of me.
“You think it’s funny?”
“I think it’s funny that I’m in your angular tower of terror, but somehow I feel safe.”
He drops his hand, and I realize he’s shirtless. A large bruise spreads across his chest right over his heart, the tangled vine tattoos emanating out from the spot of my bullet’s impact. For a tiny second, I almost feel guilty. But then I remember Lucius definitely had it coming.
“What kind of idiot comes at someone who has a loaded gun pointed at their chest?” I blurt.
“First you attack my beautiful nose, and now you question my intelligence? Do you always wake up in this mood?” He tucks his hands behind his head, giving me a full view of his toned chest and abs.
I look away, and I swear to god I wish I could figure out how to stop myself from blushing. I can’t, so I try to switch gears before he notices. “And why am I naked?” I remember a few details of what happened in the car, but then it’s a blur. “What did you do to me?”
“Do you want the long or short version?” He reaches over and grabs my arm, gently pulling me back down onto the bed. “Just lie here. I’m not going to attack you until you ask nicely.”
I roll my eyes. “Long version. I want play by play of your depravity.”
He turns toward me and props himself on his elbow. I should be demanding my clothes, threatening him, running out of here, or calling for help. Instead, I’m staring up at him and his five o’clock shadow, wondering what it would feel like against my skin.
“Let’s see. First you threw up all over my favorite dress shoes.”
“I recall that.”
“Very rude of you.” He gives me a surly look, then continues, “And after that, you did some dry heaving. Gut wrenching, if I’m being honest. Hurt me to hear it.” He winces. “And after your stomach decided it was really and truly empty, you passed out.”
“That’s weird.” I shake my head, my movement stirring up the scent of his sheets. That piney-citrusy smell of his mixed with fabric softener. Inexplicably delightful, if I’m being honest. “I’m not the passing out sort. I mean, yes, I was