Page 11 of Awakened Gifts

She turns back around to resume her task, and I frown at her back.

“I give a damn. What problems?” I ask, leaning over the table.

“It’s nothing. Just go, please. I need to focus on this, and as I said before, you’re distracting me.”

Sighing out, I rise from the chair and push off the table. When I reach the door, I glance back in time to see her lifting her hand to wipe away a tear that I can’t see. I want to probe her for information, but she’ll never open up until she’s ready.

I may not know her well, but I know her well enough. She feels alone, and I get it. I’ve felt like that for so long. Even now that I’ve finally found my counter, I’m still just as alone.

“I’m here, Simone. Whenever you want to talk, I’m here. You’ll have my undivided attention.”

She tenses for a second, and her breaths stop, but she finally exhales as she nods slowly. She never turns around, but she says, “Thanks.”

Once I’m away from the lab, I pull my phone out, debating about whether or not I should call Aria and tell her Simone seems to need a friend. Maybe I could find out what’s going on between her and Jase. That shit at breakfast yesterday looked intense, and no one saw either of them for the rest of the day.

I’m not delusional enough to think she’ll ever leave him, but something is definitely going on. And what’s with the quick, spontaneous move?

As I head down the hallway, a cracked door allows sound to escape. Loud moans find my ears, and I chuckle to myself at the indiscretion going on behind that door. I’m almost envious, until I hear something that forces me to stumble to a halt.

“Jase,” a girl says, moaning his name, but that’s not Aria’s voice.

Swallowing hard, I move to the door, pushing it open the rest of the way, and straight across the room is the commander him-fucking-self. His lips are pressed against a girl with red hair that I’ve seen before, and her legs are wrapped around his waist as they kiss wildly, devouring each other with a carnal need.

I stare, stupefied, because this can’t be real. They’re seconds away from fucking, and Christmas has just landed in my lap.

A hand on my arm startles me, and I look down with wide eyes as the shocked Aria stares blankly ahead, seeing the same show I’m seeing. Pain and horror washes over her, and she clings to me harder, probably using my touch to keep Jase from overhearing the thoughts she has to have going on right now.

I turn back to see Jase’s lips ravenously devouring the neck of the girl, and her eyes come to settle on us, smiling triumphantly as she gazes without fear. It’s then I notice the touch on my arm is gone, and I look to see the vacant hallway. Where did Aria go?

I glance back before leaving, but my footsteps pause when I see Jase reach behind him, pulling his gun from the back of his pants. The girl’s eyes are now closed as he ravishes her, and then the gun goes to her head.

I don’t have time to process the action before the trigger is pulled and her lifeless body is dropping to the ground, thudding without concern from the man who just took her life.

What. The. Fuck?

Jase drops the gun and then falls to his knees, heaving for air that he seems to finally be catching.

“What the hell did you just do?” I yell, too stunned to even try to move.

He barely glances at me before he reaches into the discarded purse on the floor. He dumps out the contents and rifles through them, ignoring my question. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he shakily stands and moves out of view. I hear the distinct sound of drawers being ripped out as shit crashes to the floor.

Moving into the room to see him better, I repeat myself. “Jase! What the fuck did you just do?”

As he dumps out another drawer, a glass vial falls and rolls gently across the floor, not breaking or even cracking. He scoops it up and brings it to his nose, sniffing it before cursing.

“I knew it. Bitch was trying to blood rape me,” he growls, shoving the vial into the pocket of his jeans.

Oh damn. “She set you up,” I groan. It’s not a question. It’s me drawing the obvious conclusion that only drives me into dismay. I knew it was too good to be true.

“Yeah,” he grumbles while spitting, looking close to vomiting. “I knew she wasn’t my counter.”

The only way to kill the blood fuck need is to kill one of the hosts. It’s still got to be painful as fuck though.

“Why’d you think she was your counter?”

He goes to the sink in the bathroom just behind him, and starts washing the blood spray off him.

“There was a pull. It must have been the blood.”