"𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒉𝒆'𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒕."
𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 1
Copyrighted 2020
He's got blood on his hands, hatred in his veins and a black heart beating away in his chest...
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"Wait, Ocean! Shit! Wait, think about the sour worms! Come back!" Gabriel calls behind me but I'm already running towards the office.
Remo was called in because of Peter Crawford. Peter Crawford, as in Jason's rich lawyer father. For someone who likes to flaunt his father's name around like Monopoly money, I'm surprised he took his mother's surname instead.
I barge into the office to see Remo slouching in one of the chairs, his leg bouncing as he twists his ring around his finger.
He stands instantly as I rush towards him. "Derya, what are you doing here?"
Before I could get a chance to do anything, the door bangs open again and the boy that haunts my dreams walks in except this time, his face isn't so normal. Thanks to Remo, Jason's face is covered in bruises and bandages and I am definitely not complaining about that.
It's just that I didn't expect to see him so soon and despite all I have tried to ignore him, I still fear him and what he's tried to do.
"Ocean, go." Remo says in a low, almost dangerous, voice.
I hesitate. Maybe I should go, but I don't want to. God knows what Remo will do if he loses his temper. Besides that, I want to be here for myself. I can't keep running from every situation that I am put in. I need to do this. I need to be here.
I shake my head in defiance. I can feel them all staring at me, especially Remo, but I can't keep my eyes off Jason. He stares right back with his lips tipped up in a smug smirk. I don't know how he manages it when his face already looks damaged beyond recognition.
Jason's smug green eyes are blocked as a larger frame fills my vision. I drag my eyes up from his chest to his eyes.
So cold, so dangerous.
I draw my gaze back down to his chest, unable to look him in the eyes. His jaw is tight as he shifts closer, placing a finger under my chin, lifting my face closer as his other hand touches my waist. I still avoid his gaze.
"Look at me." There's a certain demand in his voice that I can't deny. It sends a thrill through me, that simple request somehow sounding hotter than it's supposed to. A shiver courses down my spine when I look up into his chocolate brown eyes.
"Dorogoya, are you sure you want to stay? I don't want you to be here," he whispers so that no one else but me hears him. Dorogoya. I wonder what language that is. I wonder what it means. But it doesn't matter what it means because all I know is that I want to hear him say it again in that hoarse voice of his.
