“Drake!”
His head whipped around and he let go of the blonde man, turning just as the tattooed guy raised his knife. I don’t know how the fuck he did it, but somehow, Drake was on him, gripping the guy’s wrist and snapping it backwards. The man with the knife yelped, dropping his blade on the ground.
“You think this is a game, hmm?” Drake said with deadly calm. He hadn’t even broken out into a sweat or anything. “Let me make something very clear. I don’t show mercy.”
He punched the guy in the face before throwing him to the ground. Tracksuit had shaken himself off by then and tried to come at Drake again. Drake merely grabbed hold of his arm, spun him around and wrapped his arm around the guy’s throat. He struggled against him, but Drake was looking around on the floor for something. A moment later, he threw tracksuit into the blonde man who was nursing his broken nose. He dived for the knife the tattooed guy dropped. He rose to his full height and turned to the man on the ground with a grin.
I couldn’t look away as he tried to scramble backwards, but Drake caught up to him, grabbing him by the front of his clothes.
“Death comes to all,” he said, his voice so calm, it was terrifying.
Then Drake slit the man’s throat. Blood seeped from the wound, covering his hand in red liquid. He dropped the guy’s shirt, straightening and turning towards the other two. Drake slid the back of his hand across his face, smearing blood over it. It almost felt like a purposeful act. As if he wanted the others to see.
Holy fuck!
Before they had a chance to run, Drake practically pounced on the one in the tracksuit. The knife slid into his body with so much ease, it looked effortless on Drake’s part. He shoved the guy away before grabbing hold of the blonde-haired man and slitting his damn throat too. But Drake didn’t stop there. He came for tracksuit again as the man held his stomach, blood seeping into the white of his top. The blade slashed across his throat before Drake threw him to the ground.
Drake stood there, breathing a little heavier than normal, as he stared down at the three men bleeding out. He had blood on his face and both his hands. And to me, he’d never looked more like a god. Like the man who controlled who lived and who died.
“You’re Death.”
Drake’s head turned ever so slightly towards me. His lips curved up at the sides, his indigo eyes flashing with what could only be described as murder-filled delight.
“You missed out a word there, little wisp.”
“What word?”
“My.”
I swallowed as he stalked towards me, blade still clasped in his palm. He stopped inches from me, staring down at my small form like I was the most precious thing in the world to him.
“My Death.”
He leant closer.
“That’s right, Scarlett. I’m your reaper.”
Then I was caught up against his chest and he was kissing me so hard, I forgot to breathe. If there was one thing in this world Drake was an expert in, it definitely had to be kissing. The man could probably kill a girl just by kissing her. And the irony of it was not lost on me.
He’s literally Death.
But he wasn’t the fourth and final horseman for just anyone. He was it for me. My horsemen. My Death.
I clutched his coat, aware he was getting blood on me but not caring in the slightest. I wanted him so badly, my legs were shaking.
“Take me home, please. I need you.”
He kissed his way down my jaw, making me tremble all the more.
“I will, but we have a little issue to deal with first.”
“What?”
He pulled away, straightening to his full height. I almost protested at the lack of contact until I saw the grim look on his face.
“We need to get rid of the bodies.”
The bodies. Right. He just killed three people. Why am I forgetting that? Oh yeah, he just kissed the living shit out of me and now my brain is all fucked.
“We?”
“Mmm, you stay here. I’ll get the car.”
“You’ve got blood all over your face and your hands. What if someone sees you?”
He pointed at my bag.
“Wet wipes.”
I was having a very hard time processing all of this. I’d watched him kill three men, and he’d been barely out of breath doing it. This man was absolutely lethal. Especially for my heart. It was pounding so hard, I thought it might explode on me.
“Scarlett.”
I shook myself before pulling open my bag and extracting my makeup wipes. Drake took them and cleaned himself up whilst I stood watching him. He’d told me we would need to deal with the bodies. We. Together. Me and him.
“Wait, hold on… you just killed three people. How on earth are we meant to get rid of them on our own?”
“Just do as I say and we’ll manage.”
He took my face in his hand and cleaned off the blood he’d got on there.
“Now, hold these whilst I get the car. Do not go anywhere unless someone other than me comes along, okay? Then you run.”
“But, Drake—”
“We do not have time to discuss this. Wait here.”
He handed me the knife and the wipes. I took them and watched him stride away towards the road. I needed to get my shit together. Drake needed my help. I wasn’t going to let him down. Taking a deep breath, I looked over at the men, wondering how Drake intended to get rid of them.
You can do this. You can help him. Drake doesn’t need you freaking out or losing your mind, okay? He’ll look after you when we’ve sorted this out.
I took that and ran with it. Setting down the wipes and the blade together, I walked over to the men and checked them to make sure they were dead. Then I used their clothes to mop up the excess blood before dragging them closer to the road. They were fucking heavy, but I managed. Now I could see how much blood had got on the ground.
“Fuck.”
Drake deciding to cut their throats wasn’t the smartest idea, but it was neither here nor there. We were going to have to deal with it, regardless. Not like we could leave a ton of evidence or it might arouse suspicion.
“I see you’ve been busy.”
I jumped at the sound of his voice, spinning around and finding Drake standing over the bodies.
“You told me we had to deal with it. I was trying to be practical.”
He had a bunch of cleaning materials with him, which made me raise my eyebrows.
“Take this and mop up as much of the blood as you can.”