Deviant (Boys of Winter #3) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,112
apart over some petty bullshit like Paris sneaking in and gassing you all. It could have happened to anyone, and believe it or not, you’re human.”
“STOP.”
“NO,” I roar, shoving my hands against his chest and hating how he doesn’t move an inch. Tears well in my eyes and the anger instantly intensifies at how weak I am, making Carver not the only one who’s losing control. “You’re larger than life, Carver. You don’t get to fall apart.”
“I’m weak,” he growls, stepping right into me. “I’m no good to you like this. I’m a liability. You have three guys who would move the fucking universe just to get to you, but I couldn’t do that. You’re better off without me.”
I shake my head, my jaw clenching as his words hurt more than the bullet he shot through my abdomen, then before I can even think about how to respond to that, a gun is pressed into my hand. I suck in a gasp as he raises it to his chin and stares me right in the eye, that usual bravado shining brightly. “Pull the fucking trigger, Elodie,” he demands. “I can’t keep you safe, not like this. You’re a losing battle. Every fucking odd is against you, and I can’t be here to watch you die. It will destroy me. Pull the fucking trigger.”
Fuck this. If he wants to play dirty, then we’ll play dirty.
Without hesitation, I shoot, giving him exactly what he fucking wants.
CHAPTER 28
The bullet flies right over his shoulder, the silencer keeping my outburst private as the bullet lodges into the wall behind him, neither one of us flinching, but then I turn the gun on myself, not taking my hard stare from his for even a second. The barrel sits against my temple, the hot metal a stark reminder that it’s there, though I better get used to it. Something tells me that in this life, having a gun pointed at my head is going to be a common occurrence.
Carver’s eyes widen with fear.
“Don’t fucking move,” I growl at him, knowing him all too well. “Who the fuck do you think you are shoving a gun in my hand and begging me to take your life? You’re such a goddamn asshole, Carver. Do you honestly think that I’d be able to go on if you weren’t here? What do you think would happen? I’d pull the fucking trigger and then walk away? Fuck no. I’d turn the goddamn gun on myself. I can’t live in a world where you don’t exist, and I especially can’t live in a world knowing that I was responsible for ending your life.”
“Give me the fucking gun.”
I shake my head, the desperation pulsing through my veins like a rocket as a single tear falls from my eye and rolls down my cheek. “Don’t you fucking see? You made me love you, Carver. I fucking love you and because of that, I hate you. All my goddamn life, I’ve had to run. I’ve taken myself away and made it impossible to fall for someone, but I can’t anymore. I hate you so fucking bad because loving you means that for the first time in my life, I have something to lose and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
He just stares at me, his chest rising and falling with rapid movements as realization dawns in his eyes.
“If you die, Carver,” I whisper, hating the raw and honest vulnerability in my tone, “then I die too.”
His heart falls out on his sleeve and without warning, he steps into me, pushing my hand away that holds the gun and fusing his lips to mine.
I melt into him, the instant satisfaction coursing through my veins and filling every inch of my body with warmth. His kiss is desperate, as are his hands on my body.
I throw my arms around his neck, dropping the gun and listening as it clatters to the ground at our feet. He holds me so damn tight, the fear of truly losing me today rattling us both.
Carver presses his body against mine and I feel his raw need, so hard and demanding as his tongue slips into my mouth. We fight for dominance, just like I do with the other guys, but with Carver, it’s a real power struggle, one that we will never get to the bottom of. We’ll forever clash and fight over who wears the crown.
His rough fingers slide under my tank and tear the fabric up over