thought it had anything to do with him being, you know, different. It was always more that he was into stuff we didn’t like, or even just the fact that they weren’t his friends, you know? They came over to hang out with me, not my brother.”
“That used to happen with Sabrina and me. We didn’t share a lot of the same friends.”
Dropping my jeans and sitting on the bed, I nodded before faltering and saying, “I feel like I’m insane.”
“Why do you say that?”
Raking my fingers from both hands through my hair, I hung my head and stared at the floor. “Because I was always so convinced that these people hated him, when they didn’t. My mother told me that they did, that’s why they weren’t allowed over, and not once did I ever think to question it.”
Stepping toward me, Audrey took my hands in hers and held them tight. “Look at me,” she commanded, and I did. Even now, when such ugliness threatened to shroud every sliver of light, she was there, glowing and beautiful. “This is the last time I ever want to hear you blame yourself, do you understand? Nothing that happened was your fault, absolutely nothing—not even the accident. You were a victim, simple as that.”
“And what the fuck am I now?” I asked, nearly snickering. “Damaged goods?”
“No,” she said, stepping forward and straddling my lap in nothing but a few flimsy scraps of lace that begged to be torn off. “You’re a warrior. And a survivor.”
“And you know what you are?” My palms pressed to the dip in her back, holding her against my needy body. She shook her head, threading her fingers through my hair, and I said, “My savior.”
Thrusting my mouth against hers, we kissed feverishly, desperately, as I lowered my hands to her panties, suddenly too cumbersome and far too much in the way. I pulled at them, stretched them, and groaned with my tongue in her mouth at the increasingly annoying fact that the damn things wouldn’t rip. Audrey giggled in her girly way and mumbled against my lips, “You can just ask me to remove them.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that when I can try ripping them off?” I replied, rolling quickly to lay her back against the bed. She let out a high-pitched shriek at the sudden movement and I pressed my finger to her lips. “You better keep quiet. Don’t wanna wake them up. Freddy might think I’m actually trying to kill you this time.”
“Oh, my Lord.” Audrey clapped a hand over her mouth before giggling wildly. “He would be traumatized for life.”
“Then, you better be very, very,” I lowered to my knees and pulled those damn underwear off, “very quiet.”
I devoured her as if she was my last supper, feasting as though I’d been starving since the day I was born. I pushed her closer and closer to the edge, with an encouraging tongue and coaxing lips, until she prayed to my name and pulled at my hair. And just when her body stiffened beneath my hands and her back curved like she’d been possessed, my phone began to ring.
“Blake,” she whispered hoarsely, coming down from the high without actually coming.
“Ignore it,” I demanded, gripping her thighs and delving deeper.
But the phone persisted. “Blake,” she groaned, propping up on her elbows. “Just answer it, it’s fine.”
“Fucking hell,” I grumbled with a sigh and reached for the damn thing to find it was my boss. “It’s Gus. What the fuck does he want at eleven o’clock on a Friday night?”
With lustful eyes, she watched me hungrily and smiled. “Better find out, Kiefer. And you better do it quick, ‘cause you still have a job to finish.”
Grunting, I nodded and answered the phone that’d begun to ring again. “Yeah?”
“Were you just getting laid?” Gus asked immediately, his voice lilting with amusement.
Rolling my eyes, I asked, “Fuck off, man. Why the hell are you calling me so late?”
“Sorry,” he said apologetically. “I normally wouldn’t, you know that, but you’ll never guess who I got a call from just now.”
“Nope, probably not,” I muttered, pulling myself up to sit on the bed.
“Does the name Devin O’Leary mean anything to you?” Now he just sounded excited.
I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “Nope. Can’t say that it does.”
Gus sighed. “Blake, do you live under a fucking rock?”
“I guess I must.” I wiped a hand along my brow. “Gus, just tell me what the hell is going on, okay? I’m