Page 44 of Brutal

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I press my thumb harder against the ring, feeling the edge bite just slightly into my skin.

Some doors aren’t meant to be opened.

Delaney Cross is certainly not meant to be opened by me. She’s trouble. Trouble wrapped up in dark hair and steely blue eyes and the most luscious pair of lips I’ve ever seen.

I should stay away. Take care of her. Make it so she never crosses my path again. But I already know I won’t. I already know I can’t.

Some doors aren’t meant to be opened.

Delaney Cross opened a door. She stepped through it.

Now that she’s inside?

I decide what happens next.

10

DELANEY

I don’t go home.

I sit in my car at the bottom of the Vexley drive, engine off, hands still on the wheel like I’m waiting for something to settle.

It doesn’t.

The house looms behind me, all stone and secrets carved into places no one is supposed to notice. I can still see it—the repetition of the symbol, the key hidden in the lines.

And him.

Samson Vexley.

I tighten my fingers on the steering wheel.

I should leave.

I should go home, lock my door, write up my notes, and put as much distance between me and Samson Vexley as possible.

Instead, my fingers drift to the inside of my wrist.

Where he touched me last night.

My pulse is quick and sharp, like my body remembers something that didn’t actually happen.

I exhale abruptly.

Enough.

I start the car, shift into drive, and pull out.

If I stay still, I’ll think.

Somehow, instead of driving home, I end up at the marina again. The sun has set, and I shouldn’t be here at this hour. I shouldn’t be here alone at night.

It’s the same stretch of dock. The water is darker, and it ripples from the cool breeze.

Last time I took a cab and didn’t need to bother with parking. I find a small lot with space available, but it’s farther out…and I’m wearing heels.

I know better than this, but it’s like someone else has taken over my body.

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