100 days from today
the wolves return
I wanted to kill him.
I wanted to fuck him.
I wanted him to tear me apart.
“Gordo,” he said, ever the wolf.
“No,” I said, the perfect prey.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
I tried to step back. I didn’t move. “I’ve got a damn good idea.”
Mark turned his arm over. He gripped my wrist, thumb brushing against my pulse point. “I wasn’t your first.”
Goddamn him for knowing what I was thinking. “You weren't.”
“And you weren’t mine.”
I wanted a name. Tell me who the fuck it was. I’d find them. I’d kill them. I said, “I don’t care.”
His eyes flickered orange. “But I swear I’m going to be your last. Fight me. Hit me. Light me up. Hate me all you want—”
I bristled at that. “Get the hell out of my head,” because I could hear him whispering gordo gordo gordo along that thread that stretched between us. It bounced around my skull until all I could do was hear him saying my name again and again and again. He was consuming me, and I wanted him to. I couldn’t stand the thought.
“—but it’s going to happen. You hear me? I will hunt you down if that’s what it takes. You can run from me, Gordo. But I will always find you. I let you go once. I’m not going to make that mistake again.”
“Fuck you. I want nothing to do with you.”
He grinned, and it was all teeth. “I felt that. In your pulse. It stuttered. It shook. You lied.”