Heathens (Depraved Sinners 2) - Page 45

Fuck, just the look in her eyes when she bit me will haunt me for the rest of my life. I could have pulled away, but even while putting her through that horrendous pain, I still wanted to offer her that tiny bit of relief. How fucking sick is that? I wanted her to punish me. I wanted her to take her pain out on me, and I’ll fucking do it again.

Minutes pass as I capture every little detail of her bite, making sure to get the redness and bruising just right as the weight and guilt of what I’ve done presses down over my shoulders. I don’t want to miss a fucking thing when it comes to this tattoo. It needs to be the perfect representation of just how fucked up it was.

I get halfway through shading the deep crevices her teeth left behind when something catches my eye and I glance up out my bedroom door to find Shayne peering in. Her shoulder is pressed up against the door frame as she wears a relaxed expression, but the tightness in her eyes tells me she’s anything but.

Pulling back off of the tattoo so I don’t fuck it up, I keep my hard stare on her, nervousness flickering inside me. I used to be able to read her like a fucking book, but this week, she’s been so closed off. She’s a fucking mystery to me and showing up in my bedroom is the biggest mystery so far.

She eyes me warily and it’s no secret that she’s hesitant about being here. She doesn’t trust me anymore, and I don’t fucking blame her. She used to look at me like I held the secrets of the world, but now there’s nothing but darkness and hurt in her stunning blue eyes and it kills me.

“What do you need?” I question, doing what I can to keep the usual harsh tone out of my voice, wanting her to know that no matter what, she’s welcome. But to be completely honest, not sounding threatening isn’t something that comes naturally to me.

Her gaze drops to my arm and a hint of regret flashes through her eyes, regret that I don’t quite understand. “What are you doing?” she asks hesitantly, her brows creasing as she slowly creeps another step into my room.

I adjust the angle of my arm so that she can clearly see her perfect mark left on my skin for all of eternity. “I couldn’t bear to let it fade away.”

Her eyes widen in horror as she barges deeper into my room, gripping my arm and yanking it up in front of her to get a better view. “Is that my teeth? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?” she shrieks, dropping my arm heavily back to the table with a loud thump, rattling the small ink pots. “Are you insane? Wait, of course you are. What a stupid fucking question.”

I raise my brow, patiently waiting for her to get it all out, and only when I think she’s done do I give her my explanation. “It’s a reminder,” I tell her. “When I look down at the imprint of your teeth, I see the pain in your eyes as clearly as though it was happening right in front of me. I don’t want to forget what I did to you, Shayne. It’s not something that I will allow to get swept under the rug in time. This here,” I say, pointing down at the half-shaded piece of work, “this is going to ensure that I never fuck up like I did before. It’s the motivation I need to be better, to do better.”

Shayne clenches her jaw as her gaze drops away, not wanting to meet my eyes. “I still think you’re fucked in the head,” she mutters, not ready to speak with me on such a deep level, and who the fuck would blame her?

My heavy stare lingers on her face until she has no choice but to look my way. “Why are you here, Shayne?”

She swallows hard and a flicker of nervousness flashes through her haunted gaze. “I, ummm … there’s been something on my mind,” she explains. “And I don’t want some bullshit answer, dancing around it. I need the cold, hard truth.”

I sit, patiently waiting as she contemplates whether she actually has the balls to ask me what she needs to know. A moment passes and I arch a brow when the words don’t come flying out of her mouth. “What is it?” I question, my usual no-bullshit tone sneaking back in.

She lets out a breath and fixes me with a hard stare, only she looks like a cub trying to roar. “Why did you tell me that Marcus was dead?”

My back stiffens and my muscles tighten as I watch her. I had expected a lot of things to come out of her mouth, but not this, at least not yet. She was bound to come looking for answers eventually, but I was certain that she wasn’t ready. Hell, maybe she still isn’t but I’m not about to deny her, not after what I’ve done.

Tags: Sheridan Anne Depraved Sinners Romance
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