Page 77 of Bedding Rose

But it hasn’t curbed the itch inside of me. And so, I decide I need to talk about it, particularly after I wake up from a nap full of fighting dreams where I punch and kick an unknown assailant. My eyes open to find Angelo sitting next to me on top of the covers, casually scrolling through his tablet. I stretch, realizing I fell asleep fully clothed, phone still in my pocket, before I nuzzle into him, shoving back my bedhead as I ask, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Those huge lips of his purse before he sets aside his tablet, deciding this conversation must be serious. “You can tell me anything.”

“I’m a little bit sad … for the stupidest reason ever.” I shake my head, embarrassed to even admit it. But Angelo puts an index finger underneath my chin and raises my gaze to his.

“What is it?” he asks softly, those eyes of his as irresistible as chocolate.

“I’m sad that the Alpha Tau guys—that it’s over, I guess.” My face burns even admitting that much, though it shouldn’t. This is Angelo. He knows every inch of my body and every inch of my soul.

“You want me to punish them more?” his tone immediately gets aggressive.

“No! Not really. They got what they deserved. I heard Nick dropped out of school and the other two left the frat, or that’s what Mint said, at least.” I shrug, because that was what the last text from the giant bald man had told me, right before he recommended I readOn a Night of a Thousand Stars.“I guess … I just … God, I feel like a terrible person,” I whimper, sitting up in bed and wringing my hands.

“What are you trying to say, Rose?”

I have to close my eyes, and out of habit, my face tilts toward the covers. I feel like I’m kneeling in a confessional as I whisper, “I keep dreaming about more. Thinking about more … violence.”

Shameful.

Insane.

I’m horrible.

These are the thoughts of a crazy person, aren’t they?

But a second later, Angelo’s arms are around me and he’s dragging me out of the bed, where he still refuses to be intimate if I don’t initiate. He carries me across the room and pins me against the cold wall with his hips. And then he’s kissing me, brutally. Savagely.

When he breaks the kiss, he ghosts those amazing lips over my chin before whispering, “God, you’re perfect.”

“What?” I laugh brokenly as his lips slip to my racing pulse. I’m the opposite of perfect, I’m messed up. Either I lash out at myself or I want to lash out at someone else. And now, I don’t even need a reason, apparently.

But Angelo’s lips leave my neck and he straightens as his hands come to the wall on either side of my shoulders. “In my world, Rosie, there’s always someone who needs to be punished. I love your innocence. But if you crave more darkness, then just say the word.”

I suck in a breath and I’m terrified to acknowledge how my nipples tighten at his words. “Really?”

His head tilts and he gives a single nod. “You remember Mint?”

“Of course.”

“Someone framed him for murder.”

I suck in a breath. “They did?”

He bobbles his head from side to side as he clarifies, “Don’t get me wrong. He’s not innocent. But they helped him do it and then set him up to take the fall.” His finger comes up to trace the side of my face, gently swooping over my cheekbone. “And guess what? My father just had the fucker dragged back up from Mexico.”

My eyebrows waggle with a silliness that’s completely inappropriate for the situation—but one I feel nonetheless. “Does he need help?”

Angelo groans as he presses his hardness against me. Once, twice, three times. “I’ll make sure it happens,” he promises.

I’m about to kiss him again when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I grab it, planning to toss it over onto the bed but I see that Violet is calling.

We always text; we never call first, unless it’s an emergency.Crap.I swipe to answer immediately. “Hello?”

“Have you heard from Lily?” Violet asks. “I haven’t been able to get ahold of her for the past three days.”

“No,” I say, immediately holding up a hand to pause Angelo from bending to kiss my neck. “She didn’t stay with me this week. I thought she was staying with you?”

Violet sniffles, obviously crying. “She didn’t stay with anyone. I already talked to Daisy. Last time I talked to her, Lily said she just wanted to be home. Said she was over being silly and paranoid over nothing.”

My hand flies to my mouth and covers a gasp as my pulse hammers. I’m almost too scared to ask my next question. “Have you checked her apartment?”

“Yeah. I’m here right now. She’s not. But her place is all messed up.” Violet’s voice grows thick. “And not the way she leaves it. It’s not just messy. It looks ransacked.”

My stomach drops out as I hesitantly ask, “Do you think she was right? Do you think …her stalker’s back?”

Violet’s voice is as as sharp and painful as an icepick when she says, “Yeah. I think he took her.”