matter.
They are dead because of me.
I did that.
Their blood is on my hands, and I don’t know how to get it off.
I don’t know if I can get it off.
Hart tilts his head slightly. “The cops? You mean because of the girls?”
Like he had to ask.
“No, Gracen. They haven’t been back. Seems they’ve forgotten about you. Hell, maybe even the girls. Bigger fish and all that.”
Yeah… bigger fish.
“You okay?” He glances in my direction, but only for the briefest of seconds before he returns to the task of cleaning up the bottles. Jerk. Big, ginormous jerk.
“What am I supposed to call you?” I say. Because if I answer his question about being okay, it will more than likely result in a curse-laden tirade. Nobody needs that.
The tunneling of my vision begins to ease, and I notice if I concentrate hard enough, I don’t, in fact, want to kill the man who has two names. Good to know.
He stands up, and I notice how he takes a deep breath and lets it out very slowly. I wish I could get into his mind like he could get into mine. If he still can. At the Hell gate, I’d drunk too much demon blood for him to be able to get in my noggin. I suppose we’ll have to figure that all out later. When he finally turns to face me, his cocky grin has returned, and I can see the twinkle of the Hart I know and love in Sam’s eyes.
“You can call me whatever you want to call me.” He winks playfully.
Instead of the red coming back, I shake my head. I don’t even want to deal with him anymore. If I had my choice, sleep would be it. Sleep from now ‘til forever.
I don’t think that will work. “Fine. Asshole.”
He glares at me. “Accurate, but I don’t think it’ll look good on the Christmas cards. Mr. and Mrs. Asshole.”
How can one person be so annoying? Hey, at least he isn’t eating my brain. Small favors. You take what you can get in this life. “There will be no Christmas cards.”
“But we live together,” he says in his most offended tone. He even places his hand over his heart like I’ve insulted a Southern woman without saying the words “Bless her heart” first. The greatest sin of all around these parts.
“No.”
“We do. See?” He throws the bag on the ground and stands in the open doorway as he points down the hall. “My room. Right there.”
“Sam’s room.” I counter.
“I am Sam.” He smirks. “Sam I am.”
If I don’t sit down soon, I’m going to pass out again, and wouldn’t that be something for the most powerful creature in the universe to do?
His jovial mood fades, and he stares at me with that concerned look again. It worries me, truth be told. I must look like hell for a demon to look at me like he wants to run me straight to the emergency room. “You need to lie back down.”
“You think?” I hope he hears every bit of sarcasm in my voice.
“I do, as a matter of fact. Let me help you.”
He comes toward me, and honestly, I can’t stand the thought of needing his help. Oh, I want it. I want it very much, but I can’t take it. I just can’t. Not after everything that’s happened between us. Not after having to see Hart in Sam’s body—as weird as that is to think about. I just… I can’t do it.
“I can do it myself.” I sound tired. I am tired. It’s like I want it to be over, but I know it won’t be. My life, as I knew it before, is gone. I thought I had it bad then? I had no idea. If I could go back, even to last week, I’d be happy. I’m not sure how to even go on from here.
It’s not like there’s any sort of support group for things like this. “Hi, my name is Gracen Sullivan, and I’m a monster.”
“Oh come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. I’ve taken care of you. I brought you home. Now that you are conscious doesn’t mean you have to get all weirded out about me.” He comes closer.
I’m trapped. It’s not like I can go backwards. There’s a wall there. And I can’t jump over the bed because I don’t think my body
They are dead because of me.
I did that.
Their blood is on my hands, and I don’t know how to get it off.
I don’t know if I can get it off.
Hart tilts his head slightly. “The cops? You mean because of the girls?”
Like he had to ask.
“No, Gracen. They haven’t been back. Seems they’ve forgotten about you. Hell, maybe even the girls. Bigger fish and all that.”
Yeah… bigger fish.
“You okay?” He glances in my direction, but only for the briefest of seconds before he returns to the task of cleaning up the bottles. Jerk. Big, ginormous jerk.
“What am I supposed to call you?” I say. Because if I answer his question about being okay, it will more than likely result in a curse-laden tirade. Nobody needs that.
The tunneling of my vision begins to ease, and I notice if I concentrate hard enough, I don’t, in fact, want to kill the man who has two names. Good to know.
He stands up, and I notice how he takes a deep breath and lets it out very slowly. I wish I could get into his mind like he could get into mine. If he still can. At the Hell gate, I’d drunk too much demon blood for him to be able to get in my noggin. I suppose we’ll have to figure that all out later. When he finally turns to face me, his cocky grin has returned, and I can see the twinkle of the Hart I know and love in Sam’s eyes.
“You can call me whatever you want to call me.” He winks playfully.
Instead of the red coming back, I shake my head. I don’t even want to deal with him anymore. If I had my choice, sleep would be it. Sleep from now ‘til forever.
I don’t think that will work. “Fine. Asshole.”
He glares at me. “Accurate, but I don’t think it’ll look good on the Christmas cards. Mr. and Mrs. Asshole.”
How can one person be so annoying? Hey, at least he isn’t eating my brain. Small favors. You take what you can get in this life. “There will be no Christmas cards.”
“But we live together,” he says in his most offended tone. He even places his hand over his heart like I’ve insulted a Southern woman without saying the words “Bless her heart” first. The greatest sin of all around these parts.
“No.”
“We do. See?” He throws the bag on the ground and stands in the open doorway as he points down the hall. “My room. Right there.”
“Sam’s room.” I counter.
“I am Sam.” He smirks. “Sam I am.”
If I don’t sit down soon, I’m going to pass out again, and wouldn’t that be something for the most powerful creature in the universe to do?
His jovial mood fades, and he stares at me with that concerned look again. It worries me, truth be told. I must look like hell for a demon to look at me like he wants to run me straight to the emergency room. “You need to lie back down.”
“You think?” I hope he hears every bit of sarcasm in my voice.
“I do, as a matter of fact. Let me help you.”
He comes toward me, and honestly, I can’t stand the thought of needing his help. Oh, I want it. I want it very much, but I can’t take it. I just can’t. Not after everything that’s happened between us. Not after having to see Hart in Sam’s body—as weird as that is to think about. I just… I can’t do it.
“I can do it myself.” I sound tired. I am tired. It’s like I want it to be over, but I know it won’t be. My life, as I knew it before, is gone. I thought I had it bad then? I had no idea. If I could go back, even to last week, I’d be happy. I’m not sure how to even go on from here.
It’s not like there’s any sort of support group for things like this. “Hi, my name is Gracen Sullivan, and I’m a monster.”
“Oh come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. I’ve taken care of you. I brought you home. Now that you are conscious doesn’t mean you have to get all weirded out about me.” He comes closer.
I’m trapped. It’s not like I can go backwards. There’s a wall there. And I can’t jump over the bed because I don’t think my body
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