Page 82 of Liar

Chapter 25

Ember

I’m stunned into silence as we drive to Winthorpe Academy.

Thorne wants to take down Damion Briar as much as I do. In a way that isn’t altogether legal, but our interests are aligned nonetheless.

Never thought I’d see the day.

“You’re thinking hard.” His voice comes out of the darkened interior. Our trip doesn’t involve many streetlights, and few cars are on the road. In essence, it’s just him and me, traveling through a ghost town coated with winter mist.

“I’m still coming to terms with your plans. Sorting it through my head.”

“Are my revelations really all that surprising?”

I hesitate. “I don’t know. I always thought you were sort of…”

“What?”

“Evil.”

A raspy laugh follows.

“Like him,” I add. “I thought you were going to be just like him.”

Thorne shakes his head. It’s a ripple of movement. His hair and cloak are the same color as the night. Shadows layering over shadows.

“You thought I’d step into the role of a secret society leader, use my childhood town as a drug lab, and kidnap myself a wife?” A slice of his profile shines in the moonlight as he turns. “Why are you fucking me, then?”

Because I’m obsessed with everything about you. The good and bad. Your beautiful body and sadistic head. I swallow. “You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

He chuckles, flexing his fingers against the wheel. “Very true. When I see something I want, I take it. I guess I’m like my father in that way.”

“I always wanted my first time to be memorable,” I admit. “And you’ve definitely given me something to remember.”

A low thrum sounds out of his throat. He lifts a hand off the wheel and puts it between my thighs. I gasp at the contact of his cold press against my heated skin, but my body’s already arching toward him.

“You’re so goddamned innocent. Stop distracting me with it,” he warns. Thorne’s staring straight ahead, though with the way his fingers dance and explore, he doesn’t need to see my pussy to know exactly what to do with it. He swipes his finger along my folds, bared to him now that he’s ruined my underwear. I squeak, squirming for more, but he retreats and pops that finger into his mouth. “Mm. You’re still sticky with me. That’ll have to be enough. We’ve got a long night ahead.”

His reminder straightens me in my seat. Thorne’s ability to make danger cease to exist for me is unnatural and concerning. He’s roaring along the curving roads in the black of night toward a ceremony involving Malcolm that may very well be violent. And here I am vibrating with the need for him to finger me before we intercede.

Where the hell has the old Ember gone? Who is this chick?

“You’re right,” I say after a determined throat clear. “What do you need me to do, other than grab Malcolm and pull him out of there?”

“I doubt there will be a paddle this time, so despite your newfound proficiency, you can’t swing your way out.”

I twist my head and give him a good glare, though it’s as dark on my side as it is on his.

Thorne’s teeth light up the dark. The bastard’s grinning.

“This isn’t supposed to be fun,” I say. “Damion could be hurting Malcolm at this very second, all because I stupidly thought I could get away with manipulating Zeke. Malcolm’s trying to protect me. If anything happens to him, I won’t be able to forgive myself.” My voice wobbles slightly. “I never thought I’d get to this point—caring about him. But I do. In a twisted way, I care about Malcolm Weatherby.”

That sobers him. “You don’t have to be so honest with me, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

I watch his hands tighten against the steering wheel, the shaft of moonlight through the trees guiding me to his white-knuckled grip.