In Death I Live by Lindsay Becs

ZORA

The next day,I hardly see any of the boys. They’re all shut in their offices or outside preparing for this bonfire.

Which I’m still confused about.

Isn’t a bonfire supposed to be a fun, relaxing time with friends and loved ones? So then why does this keep sounding like a fight club death match? I’m too afraid to ask. Too afraid of what the answer will be.

I already know it’s not going to end well for me. I knew it before, but then I got a text this morning. 3 days, glow worm. I instantly threw up my breakfast.

Hesitantly making my way to Domonic’s office, I knock on the partially open door. Picking his head up, he looks at me and sits back in his big chair behind his desk. “What’s up?”

Pushing inside, I slowly make my way in front of his desk and sink into one of the chairs opposite him. His eyes track my movements, but he stays quiet, waiting for me to tell him why I’m here.

Chancing a look at him, he lifts an amused brow at me with that damn small ghost of a grin pulling on his lips. Puffing out my cheeks, I rub my sweaty palms on the tops of my thighs.

“Do you have a knife set I can use?” I ask, then gnaw on my lower lip nervously. “Like throwing knives?” I add when he doesn’t say anything.

Squinting his eyes at me, he leans forward, arms on the top of the desk to study me a moment more. “Why?” he asks slowly.

With my head still bowed forward, I answer. “I don’t like guns. I’ve seen too many people, too many kids, get hurt or killed through the years from them. But Ka—” I stop myself, swallowing down the rest of his name before amending my words. “Someone taught me how to throw knives. To use them to protect myself.”

“And you think you need to protect yourself?”

I nod. “At the bonfire, yes.” I look up at him to let him see my truth. “Not from you. From him. Them.” He stays quiet, staring at me for longer than I feel comfortable. Rolling my eyes, annoyed that I’m asking him permission to protect myself, I stand to leave.

“Wait.” His firm, gruff voice stills me. I turn when I hear him open and close a drawer. My eyes widen when he opens a black case that houses the most beautiful knives I’ve ever seen. My fingers itch to touch and throw them. “I got these for you.”

My eyes snap to his. “What?”

“I bought them after you threw that damn table knife at me.” That cute little grin threatens to break again as he says it. “I figured if you were that good at throwing a cheap butter knife, then you had to be deadly with a real set.”

I lift a shoulder. “I’m okay.”

“Drop the shy act, Zora.” This time he rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair again. Then he says, “Let me see.”

My eyes lock on his. On his challenge. With tentative steps, I stop in front of his desk again. Reaching over, I grab one of the stainless-steel blades. Holding it in my hand, I test the weight of it, flicking it between my fingers.

“What are y—”

Spinning my body, I throw the knife. It lands less than a second later. In the wooden door frame. Right next to Greyson’s head.

“Fuck!” Grey yells as Domonic stands abruptly from his chair, no longer looking smug.

“Zora,” Dom growls, not happy with where I placed my target.

“You told me to stop being shy.” I smirk. Then I walk over to pull the knife from where it stuck. I wink at Greyson, who’s still standing in the doorway unmoved. “Sorry if I scared you.”

I turn to go back to Dom, but Greyson grips my wrist and pulls me against him. My mouth drops open when I feel his hard dick pressing into my stomach. “You didn’t scare me, Zo-Zo.” He drops his lips to the shell of my ear. “You just turned me the fuck on.”

I hear Domonic scoff behind me. Still pissed he made me feel bad for asking for something I shouldn’t feel bad for, I push up on my toes. “I’ve got toys to play with now,” I whisper against his mouth before biting into his plump lower lip.

“You play dirty, little girl,” Greyson says with a knowing smirk. “And my poor cock is always the one that suffers.”

With a laugh, I practically skip back over to Dom’s desk and place the knife I threw back into its case. “Are these really mine?”

“Look at the blades, Zo. What do you think?”

Looking back down at the blades, I gasp when I see that each one has an angel wing etched into it. “Angel wings,” I whisper, placing a hand over my mouth.

“Yeah, angel. They’re for you.”

“They’re so beautiful. Thank you, Dom. This is the nicest…” I pause when my throat clogs with emotions and tears fill my eyes. “Thank you.”

He closes the case and pushes them toward me. “There are a few bullseyes set up out back for you to practice if you want.”

“How? How did you know I’d ask?”

He won’t look at me now, and I wonder if he’s embarrassed that he’s being sweet and thoughtful and that Greyson is witnessing it.

“I didn’t. I guessed. It’s not a big fucking deal, Zora. Just take them.”

I contemplate saying more but opt to leave it for now. Picking up the case, I cradle it to my chest as I leave. Greyson gives me a smile on my out, and then I practically skip the rest of the way downstairs until I open the door to go outside.

DOMONIC

“You love her,”Greyson says in a mocking tone as soon as Zora leaves.

I knew this fucker wouldn’t let it go. Sitting back with a sigh, I cross my arms over my chest. “I do not.”

“That was nice what you did.”

“She almost made you piss your pants,” I try to deflect.

He shrugs. “Maybe. But it also gave me a boner.”

“Figures,” I scoff.

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not. For fuck’s sake, Grey, what do you want? I have shit to do,” I snap.

He levels me with a look, telling me what I already know, that he’s not happy with me. “I came to show you the drawing you asked for. We can do it today if you want.”

It’s the first time since I saw him in the doorway that I noticed he was holding his sketchbook. I lift my chin, asking to see it. He flips the book around to show me what he drew.

“It’s perfect,” I tell him.

A smile breaks across his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I reply, hating that he doubts himself and his talents so much. “You up for doing it tonight?”

“Yep. I’ll get things set up. Maybe in an hour?”

“Cool. How long?”

“This big?” he asks and I nod. “Three, maybe four hours.” He looks up at me and smiles before adding, “Unless you need a shit ton of breaks like last time.”

“Fuck off,” I spit. “That shit hurt.”

“I’ll try to have a lighter touch this time,” he teases.

“I need to get some more shit done before. Give me two hours?”

“You got it.”

He leaves my office, and I scrub my hands down my face. I need this shit this weekend to be done. Shadows has been a loose fucking cannon for far too long.

I hate that he’s had his hand on Zora, been in her head. Had I known sooner, I would have tried to get her away from him before. I might not have known she existed until we found her on that road, but the second I saw her, I knew she was something special.

That damn girl has snaked her way around my dead heart, pumping life back into it. Now that it’s beating for her, I don’t know how to turn it off. And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one in this house who feels that way.

Turning my chair around, I stand to look out the window that overlooks the back of the compound. I see Zora throw a blade, sinking it straight into the center of the bullseye. Then she throws in rapid-fire one after another.

I feel myself grin like a chump as I watch her, feeling proud as fuck. This girl has probably lived through a lifetime's worth of shitty things, but she hasn’t let them defeat her. She stays strong and she fights back no matter what’s thrown at her.

I’m determined not to let her down.

Or let her go.

* * *

“You ready?”Greyson asks as I lie on my back.

“Can I smoke while you do this?” I ask, only half-joking.

“I’m not even going to answer that,” he says as he begins to clean my chest and get ready to tattoo me. “You kill me. You’re more covered than any of us, and yet you hate it the most.”

“Guess I’m a masochist then,” I grunt.

Greyson places the stencil on and has me look in the mirror. The corner of my mouth tugs, wanting to grow into a smile, but I bite it back. “Looks good.”

Putting my earbuds in, I press play and let the music drown out the sound of the tattoo gun as he sears into my skin with ink. After a while, he pats me to get my attention. Pulling a bud out to hear him, he tells me that he’s done with the outline. “Go get something to drink while I get ready for the shading. Take a piss or whatever you need.”

I stand up and stretch, stopping at the mirror again to look at the progress he’s made on my new ink. “Looks good, Grey.”

“I know,” he says like he’s the shit and not surprised at all. I like it when he’s like this, confident in his work, not like before in my office.

It’s funny, when he draws and sketches, he’s more timid about his art. But put that same shit on skin in the form of a tattoo and he’s the cockiest asshole around.

“You want anything from the kitchen? Water?” I ask on my way out. He doesn’t answer, but I grab an extra bottle of water for him before I turn to head back up.

“Oh, shit!” Zora says when I nearly plow her over when I turn around.

“You good?” I ask to make sure she’s okay. I’m not a small guy, and as tiny as she is, I could easily hurt her if I knocked her hard enough without meaning to.

“Are you getting a tattoo?!” she asks shockingly.

I almost huff a laugh. “Yep.”

“How?”

“Grey.”

“He’s a tattoo artist?” She sounds more and more shocked with each answer I reveal, and it’s cute as shit.

“Yeah, but only us here.”

“Can I come watch?”

I open my mouth to respond when the artist himself saunters in. “Then he’d have to show you how much of a baby he really is.” Grey grabs a bottle of water from my hand, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead right now. “I didn’t know if you heard me say I wanted a water.”

“I didn’t, but I was grabbing you one anyway. Because I’m nice. Unlike you right now,” I add under my breath, making him choke on his sip of water.

“Sure, Zora. Come watch,” Greyson tells her, and now I know he’s just asking to get punched in the face later.

She squeals in excitement and then follows us back up to Greyson’s studio. Once he pushes open the door and her eyes scan the area, I know right away that she hasn’t been in here yet.

Greyson’s wing is covered in art. Paint and graffiti cover his walls and even some furniture of his industrial-styled rooms.

“This is crazy,” she says more to herself than us, and Grey grins at hearing her say that. “I had no idea you were such an artist.”

“I don’t bring it out of my space much,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Once inside his studio where his table is set up, I lie back down as he pulls over a chair for Zora. Minutes later, that buzz that I love to hate starts again. Squeezing my eyes shut when I feel it touch my sensitive flesh, I hear Zora curse. “Oh, fuck, you really do hate it.”

Greyson, the fucker that he is, doesn’t give me time to defend myself before he jumps in. “He’s trying to be all gentlemanly with you here, but normally, he tries to burst an eardrum with loud-ass music to drown out the sound of the gun.”

“Fucker,” I mumble, making him chuckle.

“You want to hold my hand?” Zora asks sweetly.

“I’m okay.” I wince when Grey digs in.

“No, you aren’t,” she says, taking my hand anyway. I squeeze her hand like the fucking baby I am, but she doesn’t make me feel bad about it.

After a few minutes, she starts to run her fingers through my hair softly. “That feels nice,” I admit.

Leaning over me, she peers down with a sexy little grin. Then she drops a kiss to my lips, upside down.

“Okay, enough of that. You’re moving too much,” Greyson says. “In lots of places,” he tacks on, and I know he sees my dick straining against my sweatpants.

“You jealous?” Zora taunts him.

He stops and pierces her with a look. “Yes. Now, either hold his fucking hand and talk to him or you have to go.”

Her eyes widen, surprised that he snapped at her. “Sorry,” she says quietly, sitting back down.

“Don’t be an asshole, Grey,” I tell him.

He shifts his eyes to mine and purses his lips. “Sorry.”

We all stay relatively quiet for a while. Zora asks if she can turn on my music for all of us. After she connects it to Grey’s Bluetooth speakers and hears what I was listening to, they both rib on me for my music choices. But I don’t mind because it helps quiet the tension in the room.

“Zo-zo, baby, let me see your eyes a second,” Greyson says to her, and then I want to punch him all over again.

He finishes and cleans me up. Zora’s eyes widen when she sees it, and I worry about what she’s thinking. Standing, I walk to look in the mirror, and I instantly love every part of it.

It’s a woman’s face. Half covered in long tendrils of hair, while the other side has a skeleton face appearing from under her skin. Feathers like angel wings frame that side of her. Her lips are full and kissable, looking to match her bright blue eyes that peer into your soul.

Like Zora.

Turning back around, I go to Grey and clap his hand in mine. “Damn, you get better and better, dude.”

“Thanks,” he says through a wide smile. “What do you think, Zo-zo?”

“I… It’s beautiful.” She walks closer to me and stops to look at her better. “It’s so hauntingly beautiful.”

“Like you.” The words slip from my lips without me wanting them to.

She ducks her head and tucks her stray hair behind her ear. “Is it really me?”

“You were the muse,” Greyson says from behind her. He rests his chin on her shoulder, admiring his work.

I have this strong pull to both of them in this moment that feels more intimate than I ever thought it could. It’s just a tattoo, for fuck’s sake. But I can’t stop myself from leaning forward.

Pressing my lips to Greyson’s from over Zora, I let my hand cup the back of his head. “Thank you,” I say into his mouth.

Then, I shift to look down at Zora, and I let out the grin that’s been wanting to show all day before I dip down to take her lips next.

“Fuck… as much as I want to keep doing this, I need to cover that open skin,” Greyson tells me, breaking through the kiss I’m sharing with our girl.

Pulling back, I stare down at Zora and rub my thumb over her lips. “We’ll come back to this another day,” I tell her and then shift my gaze to catch Greyson too. His chin drops to his chest as he grins at me.

Greyson finishes cleaning and covering my new ink. Once he’s done and sterilizes his table, we all go downstairs in search of some food.

I wish every day could feel as easy as this moment.