Page 59 of Desecrated Saints
I wash the crimson stains from my knife, entranced by the serrated steel. I’m not sure how many people I killed last night. Their empty, lifeless stares all blur into one. It shouldn’t be so easy, but I’ve spent months running from one kill to the next.
Patient Eight never had a conscience.
I’m not sure Brooklyn West does either.
Pressing the blade to my stomach, I make five neat, parallel cuts. It still isn’t enough to calm down. Cutting myself again, I feel my lungs constrict. I have to stop right now. I can’t afford to black out from blood loss here. As my panic increases, Sadie’s advice rings in my head—list what you know.
My name is Brooklyn West.
I am twenty-two years old.
My family is dead.
I’m a murderer.
There’s a monster inside of me.
I deserve to be alone.
“Shut the fuck up,” I berate myself.
I haven’t hallucinated Vic since I killed Augustus. I thought I’d expunged the whole mess from my mind in that moment, but he’s still in there. His voice lives on in everything I hate about myself.
“Brooke? You okay?”
Phoenix lets himself into the steam-filled room. I’m shocked to find Hudson following him. They both pull off dirty clothes to start cleaning themselves in the sink. Down to their boxers, I study the countless bruises and injuries from our firefight.
Poking his tender ribs, Phoenix curses. “I’d like to go a week without someone breaking part of me. You nearly done in there, firecracker?”
Turning off the shower, I don’t trust myself to speak. The minute I step out, I realise my mistake. There are no towels and my clothes lay in a sticky, ruined puddle. Shifting on my feet, the weight of two burning gazes has heat flooding between my thighs.
“What the fuck are those?” Hudson barks at me.
I back up against the shower door as he advances. His fingers coast over the fresh cuts without permission, catching the blood that leaks down my stomach. His brows furrow, fingertips digging into the wounds until I’m hissing between clenched teeth.
“Take your hands off me,” I grit out.
“You’re still doing this?”
“When the need arises. It’s none of your business.”
Hudson yanks me forward until our chests meet. Completing the trap, Phoenix slots in behind me and grabs hold of my hips. These are the last two people I’d expect to be sandwiched between. I can barely stand from the blistering wave of need that wracks me. Whether it’s to cut again or fuck, I really don’t care.
“You did good tonight.” Hudson kisses his way along my jaw to meet my lips. “Watching you kill those fuckers had me hard all goddamn night, blackbird.”
“And me,” Phoenix adds.
“We lost our one lead. We’re all battered and lost in the middle of London. Sadie’s in danger. This entire thing was a waste of time and we’re going to be killed.”
Hudson scoffs. “Well, when you put it like that…”
I suppress a shudder as Phoenix bites my ear lobe. His cock is pressing right up against my bare ass, with only a pair of boxers separating us.
“…but I’m sure we can improve the situation,” he finishes.
Quickly ditching his underwear, Hudson takes a seat on the closed toilet lid. I’m tugged into his awaiting lap, still trapped and unable to run. His healing bullet wound looks inflamed, surrounded by black bruises, scratches and lacerations.
“You promised me no more cutting,” he murmurs.