Tamsin gazed up at me, calculating. “What happened then?”
How light it had felt, that trigger pull. The frighteningly soft force required to end someone. “She turned off the camera, and I finished him. He was dying. There wasn’t enough brain left for him to appreciate that fact anymore.”
“You’re not a killer, Ren.”
“I ended someone’s life.”
“That was mercy, not murder.”
“But it felt good,” I whispered. “It felt right.”
All I’d thought, when I saw the body still, was:
I wish it were him. My Poseidon.
Tamsin’s arms were around me then, both of us trembling. “Mine felt good, too. We’re both a little broken.”
“I don’t think I can be fixed, Tam.”
“I don’t intend to try, if that’s your worry.”
I cupped her cheek but couldn’t quite meet her eye. “You’re the first I’ve told, after Ingrid. About Adam. No one else knows.”
“Did you think I’d see you differently?”
“Yes.” I swallowed. “As . . . lesser. Less of a man.”
Because what kind of man let another do this to him? Hurt him so deeply. Break something buried so far inside.
Not a real one.
Tam turned my face to hers. “What happened to you doesn’t change what you are. You are every bit the man I’ve been falling for.”
All at once, a heaviness lifted. I felt untethered, buoyant. The way I’d feel when I lined up a sure shot on the court and everything seemed to click: clear space, the hoop a red bull’s-eye, the perfect arc of my wrist. Letting the ball go as lightly as dandelion fluff. The sense that I could turn around, let it sink without watching, because I could already feel the swish in my core.
Fingers touched my face, brushed the water away. Then her mouth was on mine, soft. I kissed her and tasted my own salt. Pushed her onto the sink counter, against the mirror, kissing harder. Our hands slipped into each other’s coats. It was rough, suddenly, our bad blood stirring, raising a dark sediment: the things that had been done to us, the things we’d done. I bit her lip and she gasped into my mouth. “Did I hurt you?” I said, and she said, “Yes. Do it again.” So I took her lip between my teeth, tighter and tighter till she cried out. Then I kissed her gently, sucking at that sweet coppery warmth.
“Hurt me back,” I said.
Her fingertips skimmed my throat. My nerves sizzled. “I can’t, lovely boy.”
But that fire would not cool.
In the taxi, as snow gusted at the windows, my hand moved over her thigh. Then to the inside, her muscle tightening but her legs parting. Snowflakes melted into liquid confetti, dappled the glass with colored lights. Her heat filled my palm. She put her hand on my leg, and I stiffened, and she looked at me. That conversation without words. Is it okay? Is this what you want?
When we reached her hotel I told the driver to circle it.
Tamsin held my gaze as her hand moved. Every fiber in me tensed, tugged toward my center. I moved as she did, higher. To that densest heat, her hand cupping the bulge in my jeans as I slid two fingers into the hollow between her legs. We both gasped without sound. That we did this here, with a stranger, without being able to fully react, made it crazy. Wild. Broken. She rocked her hand against my cock. I’d gone so hard my skin felt like it was coming apart. A man’s arousal is more than the erection—it’s every muscle flexing, every artery swelling, a terrible intensity that needs to be released, received. In that softness between her thighs, her jeans damp against my hand.
I took my hand away. She removed hers.
Our breath fogged the windows.
“You drive me mad,” she said.
I watched her walk through the snow to the brass doors, not turning. Knowing my eyes were on her. Knowing I wanted nothing more than to tear through the lobby, throw her on the hotel bed, unleash myself. Knowing that someday I would.
And maybe let her do the same to me.
———
“I’m sorry to put you in this position,” I said. “But you’re the only one I can trust, old sport.”
Ellis frowned at the papers in her hands. No question she’d turn them over, but first she needed to process this.
“I feel like I’m the rope in a tug-of-war,” she said. “You and Laney are pulling me back and forth.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“But I want to. I want to help you, Ren.” Her face rose, her eyes sanguine, earnest. “You know we’re part of something bigger than ourselves, right? Nobody really understands what Black Iris is doing at any particular moment except Laney.”
“And that’s dangerous, E. We’ve concentrated all our power in one person’s hands.”
“She’s never given us reason to doubt her intentions.”
“She gave me reason.” I nodded at the documents. Crito’s current location, movement patterns, everything. “That’s my cause for doubt. She’s been hiding things from me. It’s time to bring them to light.”
Ellis sighed and passed me the papers. “Are you going to . . . hurt him?”