bed with my hands over my face. I didn’t want to remember the last time I’d been this gutted. I didn’t want to see Katrin every time I looked at Aubrey but damned if I had a choice now.
The floor creaked, and I raised my head. Aubrey stood in the door to the bedroom, holding the doorway with her right hand—the uncovered tattoo on display.
“Thought you wanted to be alone?”
“So did I,” she whispered, taking another uneasy step. “I don’t really know what I want.”
I patted the bed next to me, and she joined me. I took her left arm, staring at where she’d pulled out the IV. “I guess you decided you couldn’t wait.”
“It was itchy.” She couldn’t sit still, fidgeting, rubbing her nails against her legs, the back of her neck.
“Was it?” I asked. “Your leg itchy too?”
She looked down at her hand like she hadn’t realized what she was doing.
I knew the sensation, and it was merely a small predecessor of what was to come.
She clasped her hands together and held them between her knees. “Why did he do this to me?”
“He wanted me to have a reminder….”
“As if anyone needs a reminder that he’s an epic—” She shook her head. “I don’t have any words that would do him justice.”
“You’re the reminder. The reminder that no matter what I do, I’ll never get out. I’ll never win.”
Aubrey sighed. “All about you. I’m tired of my existence not being my own. And these goddamn tattoos don’t help.” She rubbed at the inked portion of her arm and winced.
I pulled her hands away and clasped it between mine. Her cold, clammy hand. “I’m sorry.”
She jumped slightly and gave me a sideways look. “Can we go back to you being the unapologetic asshole? Life’s a lot less confusing that way.”
I huffed. But this was my fault. Beyond what I never intended to drag her into.
That was bullshit. I knew when I’d taken her out of that club that we could very well both end up dead. Facing the realization that it’d almost happened was very different. Did the fact that I’d even dragged her down this far affirm that I was more like Devlin than I wanted to admit? Or did my guilt mean that I was just a hopeless fuck-up who’d never escape?
Either way, I had a fucking mess on my hands. I could sit at a table for hours and piece together the intricate parts of a model car. But this. I didn’t know where to start or if I could ever piece all the parts together again.
Aubrey continued staring at her arm. “It burns.”
“It’ll do that. For a few days at least.” This I could give her a definitive answer on. At least I could do something. “Then it’ll start to peel and itch like you wouldn’t believe.”
“My whole body already itches—” She stopped and twisted her lips. “I think it itches. I don’t know…. It’s like my nerves are….” She held up her palms and stared at them. “Malfunctioning. I hurt and…. And… I don’t know.”
“Withdrawal is setting in.”
“Perfect.” She scoffed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. “What the hell is Devlin getting out of this?”
Not what he anticipated, I thought.
“Colt?” Aubrey whispered. “It’s etched in my skin. Deeper than that. How am I ever supposed to walk away from this?”
“I don’t think you were supposed to.” The answer slipped out before I really considered the implications. Maybe she deserved to know, but did she deserve that additional burden?
Her breath hitched. “What does that mean?”
I had to consider my words carefully, but no matter what I said, my explanation held the power to push her right over the edge. If she hadn’t fallen already. “When Devlin left you in the trunk, he left a syringe of heroin.”
Her face hardened, and she looked away, nodding slightly.
“But you didn’t use it all.”
“I don’t know,” her voice shook, and she wrung her hands. “I was freaking out. My body hurt and... The body—his body. Those dead eyes.”
I touched her neck, pulling her back. “It’s okay, Bre.”
She stiffened then relaxed, leaning sideways against my chest. “My brother’s the only one who’s called me that in years.”
“If you had taken it all, you probably would have ODed. Devlin intended for me to find you dead.”
“Why?” she shrieked, pulling away again. “Why the fuck do you two hate each other this much?”
“Because of her.” I couldn’t yet say her name. “He gave you her tattoos. Dressed you in her clothes. Intended for you to die the same way.”
She stared at me for a long time before speaking again. “And here I thought this whole situation couldn’t possibly get more fucked up.”
I almost had to smile at that. “Where my family is involved, that’s always a possibility. Did you know the man in the trunk?”
“He gave me the tattoos.” She closed her eyes and leaned against me again. Her skin was hot, with the fever already beginning to brew. “Do you think Devlin will try to finish the job, then?”
“I don’t know what to think right now,” I sighed, relaxing against the pillows and headboard and taking Aubrey with me. Devlin could go either way. Maybe the torture of me seeing Aubrey like this—having to take care of her. Having to relive the memory of Katrin would be enough for his sick twisted imagination. Then again, he was Devlin. Enough was never enough.
“Take me away,” Aubrey whispered.
“Where do you want to go?” The least I could do was humor her.
“Anywhere I don’t have to think. I’m not even sure I want to feel right now, but the thinking is killing me.”
It was the feeling that was killing me. Maybe a little distraction was what we both needed, but I knew damn well there was no escape. Aubrey’s body was fragile enough. She wasn’t ready for the kind of release I needed—and I wasn’t even sure I would be up to it.
Everything had been sucked out of me. My drive. My motivation. The anger and pain and helpless guilt were still there, but they festered like an open wound. Useless.
I closed my eyes and took a long deep breath, taking in the smell of Aubrey’s hair. The smell of my soap on her heated skin. I pressed my lips to her neck, coming away with the salty sweet taste of her skin.
She pulled back and turned to face me. I grabbed her tangled mess of hair and pulled her face within inches of mine. Sliding my hand up the front of her shirt, I brushed my thumb over her nipple. Light, teasing touches until her nipple stood erect under my touch. I may not be able to hurt her, but I could push her to the edge without pain.
Her tongue darted out, tracing her lips while her breath quickened.
I turned my attention to her other breast, squeezing it lightly and feeling its weight in my hand while my index finger circled her nipple.
She held onto me, one hand on the bicep of my arm that held her hair, the other on my shoulder.
Tracing a single finger down her sternum, I drank in her every reaction. Every sharp inhale. The quiver of her bottom lip. The flare of her nostrils. The flutter of her eyelids.
She whimpered as my hand continued downward, past the elastic of her pants. Her hips pressed forward, and her legs opened. But I slowed, moving my fingers back up a couple of inches and tracing the skin just under the waistband of her pants, around her hip and back to her spine. Then, I traced her spine up, feeling the arch of her back as her skin tightened with goosebumps.
Aubrey.
Katrin.
Aubrey.
Katrin.
I squeezed my eyes closed. I couldn’t be stuck in two places—two times—right now. I had to focus. I had to forget.
Gently rolling her to her back, I climbed on top of her and captured her mouth. Taking in her taste, pressing my tongue against hers in teasing motions.
Aubrey moaned and pressed her hips against my erection. I pulled away long enough to rip my boxers off and then her sweat pants.
“Fuck,” I growled, slipping inside of her.
She was hot and wet, but she closed her eyes and fisted her hand against my chest. “I’m not Katrin.”
My stomach clenched. Hard enough that I had to pull away. I slid off the edge of the bed, my feet touching the cold wood floor.
How’d she know? What’d she know?
She lifted her foot and pressed it against my chest. “Make me feel.”
“You’re hurt.” I took another step back.
“Since when do you care?” She had to roll to her side to push herself up, and even then, her weakened body struggled.
“This is different.” I didn’t have an answer for her. I didn’t even have an answer for myself.
I covered my eyes with my hands. This wasn’t pain I could control. It didn’t turn me on. It didn’t make me forget. It only made me remember.
Aubrey grabbed my arm and pulled it away from my face, but when I opened my eyes, all I saw was her new tattoo. Her nails dug into my skin, and I raised my gaze to her face. Her grey eyes. The mess of blonde hair. The cheek bones that stood out more than they had a week ago.
“I’m too tired,” I said under my breath.
I took her face between my hands. Her skin was cold and clammy. She wouldn’t have long before the full effects of withdrawal took away everything she had left. I had a feeling she knew it, too.
“More tired than after we stole that car? After Tank slipped you drugs? When you crashed my shower, pushing me to the edge before you took it all away.”
I moaned, seeing the memories before my eyes and feeling my cock harden. She grabbed me—with more strength than I would’ve thought she had—digging her nails into the skin between the frenum piercings.
I pulled her hand away and twisted it behind her back. I flipped her around, pushing her to her knees and around until her face was pressed into the duvet. She writhed under me, but I shoved her legs apart and pulled her ass back until my cock pressed at her entrance.
Leaning over her, I breathed against the back of her neck. “This what you want?”
She answered with a moan, arching her back and pulling me into the fantasy she concocted out of our shared hell. I inched my cock into her tight pussy, keeping her arm pressed against the small of her back and grabbing a fistful of hair with my other hand.
Aubrey pressed back against me, taking me as deep as possible. Then, I abandoned the slow motions, pulled out, and slammed into her. She shrieked into the blanket and grabbed at the duvet with her free hand.
I pounded her until she gasped for breath and small spasms ran through her muscles, then I released her hair and slid my hand between her legs, gathering her wetness before slipping my fingers into her tight, puckered hole.
She cried out again, but pushed against me, rocking her hips and begging me to continue. After a few strokes, I slid a second finger in. Squeezing her eyes closed, she whimpered. “Please.”
I eased up for a moment, trying to gauge her reaction. I didn’t need her passing out or crashing again, but she licked her lips and stared over her shoulder at me.
“More,” she breathed, tilting her hips back.
More? Well, she said she’d wanted to escape. Maybe like me, she had to be pushed to her limits to do that—pushed past her limits.
I squeezed another finger into her tight ass, and she tightened, shaking for a second as she adjusted to take it in. I left my fingers there, stretching her, while my cock rubbed slowly against her g-spot.
“Oh, fuck.” She grunted and groaned, gasping for air.
“Still want more?” I slid my fingers out, leaving her empty.
Turning her head, she pressed her face into the duvet. For a moment, I didn’t think she’d answer, but—not for the first time—she shocked me. “Yes,” she whispered and wiggled her ass slightly. “More.”
I rubbed my cock against her back entrance, testing her resolve. If she wanted pushed to her limits, I was willing to do just that. I pushed past the ring of muscle, every bar of metal resisting as I pushed deeper inside of her tight opening.
When I released her arm, she dug both hands into the mattress, arching her back and flinching slightly when I pulled out slightly before moving forward again.
Moans, pants, and coos filled the air as I sank deeper inside of her with each thrust. I forced her legs farther apart and pinched her wet, swollen, clit. Stroking it in time with my motions.
“Fuck,” she cried as her legs shook under her.
Aubrey pressed her hands into the bed until she stood on hands and knees, rocking back and forth with my increased speed.
“Come on, darlin’.” I squeezed her clit harder, rubbed it faster until I felt her climax.
With two more thrusts, I emptied myself inside of her, holding her as we collapsed to the mattress together.