Page 75 of Vendetta

He licked the pad of his thumb and dropped it down between our bodies and pressed the slick digit against my clit. My body arched, and I wrapped my thighs around his waist, not wanting to risk losing our connection.

“Shhh, listen,” he breathed against my lips before dipping his tongue inside to dance against mine.

Over the slick sounds of him driving into me, and the heaviness of our breaths, I heard a shrill and desperate scream. And that was the music that accompanied Oliver bringing me to my peak over and over again until the oblivion of sleep finally claimed us.

That was how I knew anyone who touched us would die in the most horrible of ways.

Chapter 49

Rosalina

The sun warmed my skin as I shuffled down the driveway in Oliver’s over-large slides. I followed the pack as they made their way toward the barn, rolling beat-up wheelbarrows decorated with legs dangling limply over the edges like sad, forgotten Christmas stockings. The morning breeze ruffled my hair, keeping the scent of death away from my nose. The house had been pleasantly free of that metallic copper tang when I’d woken up. In its place was an overwhelming odor of bleach and pine, which was the unfortunate side effect of living with murderers, apparently.

Even if it were for a good cause.

Oliver glanced over his shoulder, checking that I was still behind them. I was. I was done running, even though logic told me I should. Every time I tried, things got worse. I was only ever really safe when I was with them. That had been made abundantly clear last night.

I guess I’d resigned myself to captivity. Not that I would admit it to anyone, but they were growing on me. Every part of me wanted to stay with them. Every part of me knew this was where I belonged. Even if I shouldn’t.

My heart gave an uncomfortable thud as I remembered Francisco wanted to see me in person today, but for now I’d do my best to put it out of my mind and enjoy the beautiful morning.

“Where are we going?” I hurried to catch up, trying not to trip over the borrowed shoes.

Oliver kept one step ahead, blocking my view of his cargo. “To feed the pigs.”

“The pigs? Seriously?” I snorted a laugh despite the grim reality. “Isn’t that a bit cliché?”

He chuckled and kept right on walking. “Maybe, but if it works, it works, right? Why else would we keep a barn full of farm animals?”

He had a point.

Personally, I liked farm animals, but they could be a lot of work.

An older man with salt and pepper hair poking out of his well-worn baseball hat waved to us from beside the big, red rolling doors he’d pulled open, and the guys pushed the wheelbarrows inside. I slowed, crossing my arms over my chest to disguise my nerves.

The man tipped the brim of his cap in greeting. “Ma’am. I’m Jon, the groundskeeper. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

My eyes dropped to the ground. “I’m sorry about stealing your truck.” Shit, he was going to hate me. His kind face and warm smile had me wanting to make it up to him.

“Aw, hell. Don’t you worry yourself about that. That old clunker hasn’t been off the property in ten years, at least. I’m surprised it made it all the way to town, if I’m bein honest. I’ve got an F-250 out at the cottage. If you want to borrow that, you’ll have to come ask my wife for the keys, though.” He gave me a wink. “I'd better go help those boys. Never know what they’ll get up to if left unsupervised.”

Well, huh. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t that. “It was nice meeting you,” I called after him.

He gave a head bob and disappeared into the shadows to a chorus of squeals. I guess there really were pigs in there.

Cruz passed Jon on his way out of the barn, his black T-shirt pulled tight across his chest and his dark jeans hugging him in all the right places. Despite his casual dress, his presence was larger than life, even in its stoic solemnity, and my stomach gave a little flutter, pinned under his obsidian gaze. Cruz didn’t say anything, but he was watching me. Like he was memorizing everything about me. I wondered what was going on behind that look of his. My eyes wandered across the broad planes of his face, lingering on his full lips. I bet they tasted as good as he smelled. Like exotic islands and spiced candy, or something.

Cruz’s mouth twitched as if he were holding back a smile. “You okay, hellcat?”

His rumbling voice did things to me. Nice things.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You seem nervous.” He stopped in front of me and tucked a strand of my dark hair behind my ear.

I tipped my head back to look at him. “Shouldn’t I be? You just took three dismembered bodies into a barn to feed to your pet pigs.” For some reason, the idea of it didn’t bother me as much as I’d expected it to. I must be getting numb to the carnage.

He caught my chin with the crook of his finger, holding my gaze steady on his. “Would you rather we left them alive?”