Chapter 12

I'd had no idea of how drunk Brice would get that night, nor that he'd begin beating the shit out of Cole—moreover, that the fight would spill out among those who were celebrating the holiday with us.

All too soon, though, we'd had an all-out, full-blown, drunk brawl out in the middle of our cow pasture. Ninety percent of the celebrators had slugged one another, many of them so drunk they were falling down then struggling back up to swing at one another again.

If I hadn't been so mortified over what I'd caused, I'd have found it hilarious, as it all played out like a silent, black and white movie—only it hadn't been so silent. In fact, between the cussing, name-calling, the police sirens, and the officers screaming through their bullhorns—it hadn't been silent at all! So, when the night had turned into the next day, and Brice had climbed through my bedroom window, I'd gazed at him with humiliation.

Straightening, he'd stood staring at me, and I’d felt a quiver of desire pound to life between my legs, even as a quiver of unease raced through my heart.

He was pissed. I could see it as he'd gazed at me, all the while exuding a sexual tension that had my pulse tripling. Hunger and anger shimmered off him as if he'd been bathed in angry lust dust and he'd barked, “What the fuck was last night about?”

I'd been unsure of what to say and had shrugged, as the evening before it had all seemed so clear. (1) Make Brice crazy jealous. (2) Have our relationship move beyond mere friendship status and (3) hell, I'd no clue what I'd expected of three, but it sure as shit hadn't been Brice going to jail.

Facing the angry male in front of me, I'd blurted, “I was trying to make you jealous!”

Stepping closer, Brice had muttered, “Oh? Care to tell me why you'd wanna do that?”

My lips had sealed, and I'd remained silent, so he'd taken another step toward me, his voice coming out a deep and husky drawl. “Again, Ry. Why?”

I had responded to his nearness, his scent circling around me, sensuously weaving sexual tendrils that lit a path of hunger to the innermost core of my need, hypnotizing me, and I moaned, “You want me don’t you?”

Voice coming out a deep throb, he'd ground out, “Fuck… a fool can see that I do, but you're my sister’s best friends, and you're only sixteen, and I'm betting, still a virgin?”

I'd nodded with a slow movement of my head.

“Fuck, Ry, why me? Shit, I doubt you've ever even been finger fu—” His words cut off when a blush stained my cheeks and I'd whispered, “I've... uh... done it myself.…”

At that, he'd sucked in a harsh breath. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Okay, strike that… finger-fucked by someone other than yourself!”

As he’d been talking, I'd stepped over to him, and with the area between my legs doing a mad litany of want, I'd stood up on my tiptoes and whispered, “Then, you finger fuck me!”

Brice had sucked in another harsh breath and closing his eyes, he’d swallowed thickly. Afterward, wearing a pained look, he had husked, “Damn, that’s just fucking cruel!”

Taking another step until I brushed against him, I moaned, “I want your fingers in me, I want your cock in me, and I want you to make me come.”

In the next instant, he'd planted my back against a wall in my bedroom, and grabbing my ponytail he'd jerked my head back as gazing at me with heated eyes, he'd roughly claimed my lips, grinding his mouth against mine.

I'd opened to his insistence, he'd thrust his tongue inside, stroking in and out as he'd plundered the depths, then giving a low rumbling growl deep within his chest, he'd pulled his mouth away slightly, as biting my lip, he’d begun working his way to my jawline where he'd left a trail of bites along its curve and down my neck. The bites weren’t so hard they had hurt, but there hadn’t been any denying that he’d been biting me.

Afterward, he'd applied tiny kisses to where he had abused the flesh, before pulling my skin in between his lips, he’d begun sucking, marking me.

Awash in a haze of arousal, I had let out a moan, and pulling back, his breathing harsh, Brice asked, “You ever given head, baby?”

When I’d shaken my head that I hadn’t, he’d released a harsh breath, before pulling completely away from me, he’d turned on his heel and climbed onto my window-seal, there, with a leg hanging out the other side, he’d paused, as returning his gaze in my direction, he’d breathed,

“Careful who you proposition, baby—monsters do exist, and you might have just propositioned the worst of them all!” Afterward, and with a hoarse, “Fuck!” he'd disappeared out the window.

BRICE

In my teenage years, I'd never been able to stay away from Rylee, though I'd damn sure tried. There were times I'd made it a day, sometimes two. Hell, once, I'd even made it a week, but I'd always come crawling back…hungry for my fix. It seemed nothing had changed. I still crawled after her—she had been born for me to love, but I wasn’t who she needed. I should have never opened my mouth after that psychopath had threatened her, I should have never told her what I was feeling, but I had let my guard down, grasped at whatever I’d thought would keep her safe. I’d never felt fear like that before, and I’d become desperate. I had wanted to grab her up and shove her into my pocket, hide her so no one could find her. I didn’t want her on this case. I didn’t want her to have anything to do with this bastard, but after seeing her have one of her visions, I’d realized there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do but kill the bastard. It wouldn’t be the first death at my hands over her. And there lay my secret, and the reason I couldn’t have her. It didn’t matter why I’d done it, she could never find it in herself to forgive me for what I had done. I’d killed her dad.

She didn’t know what I knew, didn’t know what I had witnessed. But I’d made sure what I had seen would NEVER happen again. I’d made sure that son of a bitch would never use her in the manner he had again. I had pinky swore to protect her when we had been just kids, and that is exactly what I had done, and I would continue doing so until I drew my last breath. I’d walked a pretty black path back then, and under the right circumstances, I’d walk it again. Rylee was the right circumstances.

Raising the drink in my hand, I saluted to the fates of the damned. “Thanks, guys,” I slurred, giving a drunken grin when I imagined I heard them reply, “Anytime, Rowland—any time!” Standing, I swayed and stumbled my way over toward the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat on the liquor bar, and plopping my tumbler next to the bottle, I splashed some whiskey into its depths, spilling some on the surface of the smooth surface of the bar’s top, then, glancing from the tumbler to the bottle, I shrugged, downing the contents of the tumbler, afterward, sitting it on the bartop, I carried the bottle over to my chair. Falling into the cushions of the seat, I raised the bottle and guzzled from its mouth as my thoughts once again returned to Rylee. The fact was, no matter how much I needed her, she could never be mine. I knew she was open to me sexually, but I wanted her, and not just for sex. She had become my sun, and all I could do was orbit around her, I’d never be able to pull her fire within me to cut the coldness that I had become. I was damaged, but protecting her was what kept me from the demon inside me. It was the only reason I placed my feet on the ground every morning now, and she is the only reason I’d walked away four years ago from the type of life I had been living. The glow of my lighter lit my face, as I carried it to the tip of my cigarette, then lighting the end, I drew the tobacco deep into my lungs as I thought of my past. I hadn’t blinked an eye at the blood I had on my hands. Never tossed a backward glance at the men I had killed. Never thought twice about the powder I’d sniffed up my nose, or the women I’d fucked. However, that person still existed within me. And it was that person who her visionaire would meet. It was that person that would rip his entrails out and hang them from a chandelier.