“Stop!” I try again, but it’s almost like they can’t hear me.
Julius lands another hit to Lucas’s ribs. “Come on, is that the best you got, Mason?” He smiles with bloodstained teeth and swelling eyes.
For a second Julius stops. He’s completely still, blood running down his chin dripping onto Lucas as his chest heaves quickly. But then something snaps, and he starts again, only this time Lucas fights back even harder.
As they continue rolling around, breaking anything in their path, including each other, I sprint to the counter and reach into my bag. Probably not the smartest move, but I can’t watch them kill each other. I grip my gun, then pull it out and aim it toward the ceiling. I pull the hammer back, then squeeze the trigger firing a single shot.
The bang is loud in such a small space, but it gets their attention. They both jump and jerk their heads in my direction as small pieces of the roof fall down on me. The ringing in my ears is so loud I can’t even hear what they’re saying. I see Lucas’s mouth moving, but I can’t make out the words. I don’t know if it’s from the gunshot or the utter disbelief.
“Charlotte?” I finally hear Julius yell.
I bring my eyes to his. “Are you done?” I ask, completely ignoring the shock on his face.
He nods and picks himself up from the ground, then reaches for Lucas. “I feel that was unnecessary,” he mumbles.
“Yeah? And I feel that whole thing”—I point to the blood on the floor—“was unnecessary. I get you want to help the girl, but we can’t do anything yet. I promise we will save her; we just have to be smart.”
“Her name is Cat,” he remarks.
“How do you know?” Lucas asks, finally breaking his silence.
“I talked to her,” he says nonchalantly.
“What do you mean talked to her?” Lucas says, squaring his shoulders again.
I suck in through my nose and let it out through my mouth before stepping between them.
“I went inside, snuck into the room, and I talked to her. I told her I would be back.”
“Fuck, Julius.” Lucas seethes.
He shakes his head. “You know what, I don’t need your fucking help. I’ll do this on my own.”
He turns to walk out the door. I try and grab his arm, but he jerks out of my hold. “Fuck off, Flower.”
He steps outside and slams the door, shaking the walls. Lucas goes to follow him, but I tug him back. “Stop. Let him cool off.”
He shakes his head and bites his swollen lip. “I don’t want him to do anything stupid.”
“He won’t. Just let him have a moment to be angry. He’ll see we’re right and calm down. Until then, let’s clean you up and figure out a plan for when the other shit is over.” He stares at the door for a moment before finally nodding and letting me pull him into the bathroom.
He perches himself on the edge of the bathtub, slumping his shoulders with his head down. I rummage through the cabinets and find a first aid kit along with some gauze and antibacterial ointment.
I pull out everything I think I’ll need—cotton balls, Band-Aids, peroxide—then lay it on the small counter with the sink. As I’m setting up, Lucas stands. “Hold on.”
He leaves the bathroom then comes back with his phone in his hand. His fingers fly across the screen. “What are you doing?” I ask as he sits back down.
“Never got a chance to call Carl, so I’m just sending him a text with all the info about Cameron. The sooner we can handle this, the better.”
I nod and pour some peroxide onto a cotton ball. I dab his lip and the gash under his eye gently, but he still winces, letting a hiss break through his lips. “I’m sorry,” I say, moving my hand away from his face.
He wraps his fingers around my wrist and brings it back to the busted skin under his eye. “It’s okay. I like the pain.” He lets his phone fall to the floor.
Butterflies erupt in my stomach, and heat rolls over my cheeks as I drop my head.
He grips my chin and raises my eyes back to his. “I’m making you blush.” He grins. “What is making you hot, baby?” he whispers, moving his hand down to my throat, then to the back of my neck.
“I—” I cut myself off.
“Tell me. It’s okay to talk about what you like.” His fingers crawl over to my shoulder. “Or what you don’t like. Don’t be ashamed.”
“You,” I finally let out.
“Me? What about me?” He stands and turns me around, then pushes my hair over the front of my shoulder and starts peppering kisses along the crook of my neck.
My breath hitches as his tongue flicks over my neck. “Just you.”
His arm snakes around my waist, then moves up my body, between my breasts, and he grips my neck lightly. “What about this?”
I nod.
He nips my shoulder with his teeth. “This?”
I nod again.
His hand falls from my neck and moves to my waist. He hooks a thumb in the waist of my pants and runs it from one hip to the other slowly. “And this?”
I nod once again.
“Use your words, baby,” he chastises in a sweet tone.
“I need you.” I reach behind me and grab a handful of his hair.
“Pull it,” he demands, so I do.
The soft strands almost slip out of my fingers, so I grip them harder. I can feel his body go rigid behind me as he moans into my ear. I turn in his hold and face him, still holding his hair. His pupils are dilated with need, and I can practically smell the lust rolling off him.
I lick my lips and inhale, waiting for what I thought was the
