Page 61 of Gravehouse

Nonna’s blood, Luce’s screams, the body being dragged…

By seven my pulse is still trying to claw out through my throat. By nine I already know ten won’t fix anything, and I’ll need an entirely different number system and possibly an exorcist.

Pull it together.

Asher.

What do I remember about him, and what do I know now? Memories are muddled. Most of them my own doing, since I forced them behind a brick wall after I thought I killed him.

I type out a new message to Luce.

Do you know anyone else like us? Families I mean?

It’s far-fetched. Not something we’ve ever spoken of, Nonna included, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the first time that it crossed my mind.

There isn’t. There are other corporations, sure, but none that fall under the same umbrella of a Playhouse. Why?

Another text comes through.

Even if that were the case, it’s impossible. Both live entirely too much in the spotlight to have any anonymity, and we all know that’s the only non-negotiable. Also… we know every other Family there is.

I shove my phone back into my pocket.

She’s right. I’m reaching.

A door opens and I roll my eyes, already bracing for Atlas, but the silhouette that fills the frame turns my blood hot.

Asher shuts the door behind himself, his gaze locking onto me.

He looks hot. Too fucking hot. Every second around him is a war I’ll never win.

“Not really up for the fight.” I pretend to fix my lipstick. Now that he’s in front of me, I can’t form the words I wanted to say. “Maybe go fight with Camille, since she’s always around.”

His hand lands on my throat, but I slap it away before he’s gripped it and swing with my right. He catches my fist faster than I expect, trapping it without effort.

I’m a better fighter than most, even Leon on a good day. There’s no way some rich snowboarder can block and hold. Yet another thing about him that doesn’t add up.

He uses my captured fist to tug me closer as his other hand finds my throat. The corner of his mouth curls as he glares down at me, and any other woman would wilt under the force of that stare, but I know better.

Even more? I know him.

I whisper the first thing that comes to mind. “I should have killed you.”

Shadows darken under his features. “Then do it now.”

His focus drops to my lips as his fingers find the side of my face.

I try to twist free, but he tightens his hold, wrenching my face back to his. A single grip around my chin shouldn’t hold this much force, and for the second time since arriving, I question exactly who I’m dealing with.

Our closeness lights up every nerve, and I don’t know whether it’s the poison of being this close to one another or because we both react better to violence, but every second feels longer than the last.

“You left me, at that house, to, what, Venom? Go where?” His thigh brushes my inner one. “And if you even think of slipping out from me right now, I’ll bend you over and fuck you how I should kill you.”

Heat flares through me.

Stop thinking this is attractive.

I lift a challenging brow. “And what position is that, exactly?”