Queen of The Reapers by Jessa Halliwell

Fourteen

Sweat tricklesdown my brow as my feet pound against the treadmill. ‘Jokes on You’ by Charlotte Lawrence starts up again and the lyrics rip into me. I’ve been running for almost an hour and my legs already feel like jelly, but I can’t stop. If I stop, I’ll think. And if I think, I’ll feel. Feeling isn’t an option right now.

It's been 48 hours since the fire at Dina’s, and I’m no closer to finding any answers. Aside from the cryptic message, there's been no contact from Alex's kidnappers. Not even a single fucking demand. Atlas has a meeting set with the best missionaries in the state tomorrow night and I’m hoping something comes from that, but I can’t help but feel like we’re running around in circles.

I haven’t slept much and if the dark circles under my eyes don’t immediately give it away, my disheveled appearance does. But I can’t bring myself to give a fuck about what I look like when I’m being haunted by my mistakes.

My nightmares are back. Only now, Alex is the one with her face in the dirt screaming for help and I’m standing there watching, helpless to do anything about it.

It felt different when I thought Melanie took her. I knew she wouldn’t dare hurt her, because if she did, she’d lose all of her leverage. But now that we know whoever stole her is one of The Reaper's enemies, all bets are off. Who knows what kind of awful torture she’ll have to endure at their hands.

The only way to keep my mind off of the horrors she may be going through is to distract myself, and lately, running is the only distraction I can handle. When I run, there’s nothing on my mind but the music flowing into my ears and the feel of the ground beneath my feet. It’s the only solace from my thoughts, and with how dark my thoughts have been lately, I’d run forever if I could.

As my feet pound against the treadmill, I spot someone else entering the gym from the corner of my eye. Cyrus. He tries to make eye contact with me, but the second our eyes meet, I look away. I have nothing to say to him.

Never one to take no for an answer, Cyrus heads straight for my treadmill and stands directly in front of me. I try not to look at him, but his captivating presence is almost impossible to ignore. Even when he’s trying to lie low, people notice him.

I look up into his emerald eyes and his face hardens into a scowl. His lips move as he says something to me, but with my music turned up, it’s hard to make out the words.

I look up into his emerald eyes and his face hardens into a scowl. His lips move as he says something to me, but with my music turned up so loud, it’s hard to make out the words.

Everything in me wants to ignore him, to pretend that he isn't even here, but he could have news about Alex and that alone is why I give in. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Releasing a sigh, I reluctantly yank the emergency stop on the treadmill, pull out an earbud, and glare at him. “Did you say something?”

Amusement lights his eyes and he flashes me a devious grin. “Just wanted to see how long you were going to be on that.”

I deflate. “Are you serious?” I ask, gesturing to the rest of the gym. “There’s at least six other treadmills open.”

“Fair point,” he retorts, nodding his head, “but this one’s my favorite.”

I give Cyrus an unamused glare. “Really.” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “This specific one?”

“Afraid so.” He shrugs, knocking his knuckles against the handle. “So, how much longer?”

Until I can’t feel anything anymore. Until the ache in my chest stops hurting so much. “I don’t know.” I say, squinting at him. “Hours. Use a different one.”

“It’s fine.” He says, shrugging his shoulders with a crooked smile. “I’ll wait.”

I move to put my earbud back in, but pause when I see he’s still staring at me. Under his unwavering gaze, I feel exposed. Like somehow he’s seeing beyond the surface and staring straight into my soul. Peering at all the ugly parts of myself I try to keep hidden. He looks like he wants to say something. Like the words are on the tip of his tongue.

“Is there something else?” I ask, cocking a brow at him.

“You should really get some sleep.” He says, as his brow furrows. “You look like shit.”

Anger flushes my cheeks, but quickly dissipates when I see his eyebrows raise with amusement. He’s trying to get a rise out of me, to shake me out of the numbness that’s been my security blanket since Alex’s kidnapping. I have to hand it to him. It almost worked. Asshole.

“Brilliant observation.” I say, flashing him a mocking smile as I reattach the emergency stop cord.

He’s trying to get under my skin, but I won’t let him. Instead of giving in to his little game, I pop my earbud back in, close my eyes, and let myself fall back into the rhythm as the acceleration slowly builds up again. The music flows in and my brain pushes out all thoughts of Cyrus, of Alex, and of all the pain I refuse to feel.

Just when I’ve hit a steady stride, the treadmill surges to an abrupt stop. My eyes flash open and I look around the room, bewildered. What the hell? I glance down at the machine and find the emergency stop cord swinging. I look up and see Cyrus standing there watching my reaction with a smug smirk on his face.

“What is it this time?” I spit, all hints of playfulness gone from my tone.

“Why are you down here so late?” He asks, cocking his head as his emerald eyes stare into the depths of my consciousness. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“I came down here to run.” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “The sooner you let me get to it, the sooner you’ll have the machine all to yourself.”

Cyrus frowns as he crosses his sleeved arms across his chest. “Fine. Stick with what you know.”

I scoff and glare back at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask.

“Forget it, Princess.” He says, stepping away from me. “There are some things you’ll never be ready to hear.”

I hop off of the treadmill and follow his retreat. “No, you felt the need to say it.” I say, getting into his face. “Elaborate.”

Cyrus deliberates for a moment before answering me. “You’re a runner.” He says, throwing his hands up. “Let’s be honest, it’s what you do best, and it’s what you’re doing right now. You may be here, but in that fucking head of yours, you are miles away.”

I shake my head in denial. “That’s not true.”

Cyrus presses closer. “Then why is it that this is the first time you’ve so much as looked me in the eye since the fire?” He asks, searching my eyes.

“Because I have nothing to say.” I mumble, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

“Why is that?” He asks, cocking his head.

Instead of dignifying him with a response, I shut my mouth, slip in my earbuds again, and storm back to my treadmill. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to talk about anything.

Just as I pick up my pace again, Cyrus rips the emergency stop cord right in front of my face and levels an angry glare at me. I say nothing as I grab the cord and grip it in my hands. This little game of his is fucking ridiculous and I want no part in it.

“The Silence” by The Veronicas plays in my head and I close my eyes and turn the volume up higher. I’m done playing into his antics. I reattach the emergency stop and pick up my pace again.

After a few seconds, I break into a sprint, and without warning, the machine sputters to stop. I let out an angry sigh and reach for the cord with my eyes still firmly shut. I expect to find it unattached again, but when I feel for it, I find the cord just as I left it.

I flick my eyes open and come face-to-face with Cyrus holding what appears to be the power cord. He levels a vicious glare at me as he tosses the cord to the ground before taking out one of my earbuds. “We’re talking whether you want to or not.”

“Actually,” I say, hopping off of the treadmill and snatching my earbud back, “we’re not. I was finished, anyway.”

I don't want to cut my run short, but anything is better than being forced to face him and all the questions behind his eyes.

I storm towards the exit and can feel Cyrus following me right on my heels. “Fuck, Stevie!” He yells, chasing after me. “Fight me. Scream at me. Show me something, Princess. I’d rather feel your hate than feel nothing at all.”

I twist around to face him. “I don’t hate you.” I sneer, cutting my eyes at him. “Not everything is about you, Cyrus.”

“Bullshit.” He challenges, maneuvering around me to block the exit. “I see it all over your face. You’d love nothing more than to punch me in my face right now. Admit it.”

“Fine, I hate you.” I deadpan. “Now move the fuck out of the way.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Finally, a step in the right direction, but you’re still angry. I see it. Take a shot.” He says, patting the side of his face for emphasis. “One solid punch to get all the hate out of your system.”

I look up at him incredulously. “I’m not going to punch you.”

“Why?” He asks, cocking a brow. “Scared you might like it?”

“No. Unlike you, I don’t resort to violence to solve all my problems.”

“I can think of a few instances where that’s exactly what you’ve done. Hit me, P. You know you want to.”

I shake my head in denial. “No.”

“Do it.” He says, getting closer to my face. “Come on. Show me what you got.”

Maybe it's his incessant pestering. Maybe it's the fact that he interrupted the one activity I used to escape from my thoughts. Maybe it's just his own bad fucking timing. Any other day, I would’ve never taken him up on the offer. But as I stare at the stupid smirk on his face and think about all the bullshit that I've been through since I met him and his brothers, I stop overthinking for once in my life and I act.

Forming a fist with my right hand, I wind back slightly and throw everything I have in a solid punch to his jaw. My body snaps forward and as my fist zeroes in on his jaw, Cyrus realizes what’s happening and ducks out of the way inches before my fist collides with his face.

“Holy shit!” He exclaims, raising his brows. “You were actually going to hit me.” His face contorts in mock shock as he presses his hand to his heart. “I’m hurt, Princess. Arguing is one thing, but resorting to violence? This is a cry for help.”

“You are such an asshole.” I clip, shoving him back.

Instead of recovering, like we both know he easily could’ve, he wraps his hands around my waist at the last minute and lets the force of my shove pull the both of us down to the mat.

Instead of recovering, like we both know he easily could’ve, he wraps his hands around my waist at the last minute and lets the force of my shove pull us both down to the mat.

I land on top of Cyrus and our foreheads knock together on impact. I pull back, scowling down at him as I rub the sting away. “God, Cyrus.” I growl, wiggling to try to untangle myself from his hold. “What the fuck is your prob—”

My eyes widen and I lose all train of thought as I feel something harden underneath me.

Seeing my obvious reaction, Cyrus flashes me a grin. “What’s the matter, Princess?” He gloats, releasing his hold to wrap his arms behind his head. “Big cock got your tongue?”

For a moment, I’m drunk on the thought of all the dirty things he could do to me in this room, but the smug grin on his face sobers me up. No. He caught me off guard, but I won’t let it happen again.

I glare down at him and put on my best bored expression. “Hardly.” I huff, ignoring the impressive bulge pressing against me. “It isn’t anything that exciting.”

His cocky grin fades and the expression behind his eyes transforms. Instead of my insult pushing him away, like I expected it to, I see the unmistakable gleam of challenge in his eyes.

Without saying another word, his hands latch onto my hips and he grinds my body up and down his hard bulge once. The layers of fabric between us should dull the sensation, but it’s almost as if the barriers between us heighten it. My pussy painfully throbs, yearning for the temptation he’s dangling in front of us.

Cyrus releases my hips and studies my expression. “Everything okay, P?” He asks, feigning innocence as he tries to hold back his smile. “You look a little… unsettled.”

“I’m fine.” I bite back, planting my feet on the ground to stand up. Cyrus latches onto my hips and grinds my body against his cock again, and my mind turns into jelly. Fuck. I think, shaking my head. How can someone so infuriating feel this good?

“You want me.” Cyrus notes, as deliciously glides my covered pussy up and down the length of his cock. “You’re just too fucking angry to admit it.”

He’s right. I am angry. At him. At myself. At the world. But feeling his cock harden underneath me is the best kind of distraction and honestly, my anger is the last thing on my mind.

“Admit it, Princess.” He taunts, sliding my hips against him at a painfully slow pace. “You want this. All you have to do is say the word…” He trails off, jutting his hips forward for emphasis. “And this cock is yours.”

Cyrus slides my center down his covered cock so slowly that for a second it feels like time has stopped. My pussy throbs and the pain is borderline excruciating. All I can think about is more. More movement, more sensation, more of him. “Cy, please.” I plead, looking up into his eyes. “I need this.”

Even though he coaxed it out of me, I mean what I’m saying; I need this. In more ways than he could imagine. I’ve been so disconnected from everyone. So consumed with my anger that I’m starting to feel like I’m losing myself. I need him to help me release some of this anger before it swallows me whole.

“Fuck.” He groans, pulling me in for a sensual kiss before yanking off his t-shirt. “I thought you’d never ask.”

I kiss him back and allow our tongues to swirl against each other before pinning his lower lip between my teeth. “You’re such a dick.” I say, releasing his lip as I gather the edge of my hoodie in my hands and toss it over my head.

“I am.” He admits, with a nod of his head. “But a sick part of you loves it.”

I pull him in again for another kiss and can’t help but grin. He’s right. He infuriates me. But a part of me, the dick-matized, masochistic, crazy part, loves everything about it. Cyrus has this innate magnetism that pulls people in, and even when I try to fight it, I know there’s no real point. I could try to escape, but I’ll always find a way back into his pull.

I stare into his emerald eyes as my fingers run along the hard ridges of his bare, tattooed stomach. The heat in his stare is enough to start a fire, but that isn’t what makes me turn away. Beyond the fire and beyond the lust, I see a look in Cy’s eyes I’ve never seen before. Something deeper. More sacred. Something that feels a lot like love.

Instead of dwelling on what this could mean for us, I close my eyes and allow myself to fall back into the moment. Whatever this is, or whatever this means, doesn’t matter. All that matters is what we want and the friction building between our bodies.

Cyrus grinds my body against his harder and even though we’re still partially clothed, it feels innately dirty. Like we’re doing something we shouldn’t. I plant my hands against his chest and grind against him harder, letting out a little moan every time his cock rubs against my sensitive clit in just the right way.

Cyrus slaps my ass with a crack of his wrist and smirks. “These,” He remarks, rubbing away the sting. “Fucking sexy.”

He wraps his hands around my ass and grips the stretchy black fabric of my shorts tightly. With no effort at all, he rips it down the seam, leaving a massive hole in the center. He does the same with my thong, nearly ripping it off of my body completely. Cold air hits my sensitive pussy and my whole body shivers.

He wraps his hands around my ass and grips the stretchy black fabric of my shorts tightly. With no effort at all, he rips it down the seam, leaving a massive hole in the center. He does the same with my thong, nearly ripping it off of my body completely. Cold air hits my sensitive pussy and my whole body shivers.

He wraps his hands around my ass and grips the stretchy black fabric of my shorts tightly. With no effort at all, he rips it down the seam, leaving a massive hole in the center. He does the same with my thong, nearly ripping it off of my body completely. Cold air hits my sensitive sex, making my eyelashes flutter and my whole body shiver.

He wraps his hands around my ass and grips the stretchy black fabric of my shorts tightly. With no effort at all, rips it down the seam, leaving a massive hole in the center. He does the same with my thong, nearly ripping it off of my body completely. Cold air hits my sensitive sex, making my eyelashes flutter and my whole body shiver.

He wraps his hands around my ass and grips the stretchy black fabric and with no effort at all, rips it down the seam, leaving a massive hole in the center. He does the same with my thong, nearly ripping it off of my body completely. Cold air hits my sensitive sex, making my eyelashes flutter and my whole body shiver.

He wraps his hands around my ass. He grips the stretchy black fabric and with no effort at all, rips it down the seam, leaving a massive hole in the center. He does the same with my thong, nearly ripping it off of my body completely. Cold air hits my sensitive sex, making my eyelashes flutter and my whole body shiver.

“Don’t worry, Princess.” Cyrus says, reaching between us to slap my bare pussy. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

Cyrus licks the tips of his fingers, reaches between us and starts brushing his fingers against my sensitive clit. My eyes roll into the back of my head as heat starts to build inside of me. His touch feels so good, and my whole body twitches with each tantalizing brush of his fingers. I'm hot, so fucking hot, and all I want to do is shed the fabric still sandwiched between us.

Rising to my knees, I kick off my sneakers, reach for my sports bra and pull it up over my head. The shorts can stay, but I need to shed everything else. I want to feel as close to him as possible. Following my lead, Cyrus sheds the rest of his clothing as he stares at me hungrily.

We lock eyes with each other, and for a moment, we just take each other in. It feels monumental. Like there’s no going back after this. If I give myself to him now, I’m not only accepting who he is, but everything he’s done in the past. The games. The cruel words. Everything. But I don’t want to think anymore. Not when it comes to my feelings for Cyrus Cole.

I climb back on his lap, and hold my breath as Cy guides himself towards my entrance. He inches the tip in and I let out a little sigh as I adjust to the stretch. I study his face as my pussy takes him in. His pupils dilate and his brow furrows in concentration as I slowly slide myself up and down his shaft.

“Yes, Princess.” He coaxes, digging his fingers into the flesh of my hips. “Fuck yourself just like that.”

I move faster, feeling empowered by his filthy words. I bounce on him over and over again until I see the moment Cy becomes maddened with lust.

Cy sits up and sinks his teeth into the side of my neck as he takes over the strokes. Fucking me hard as the sting from his bite sends chills down my spine. Everything about the way he fucks me feels possessive, and it hurts in the best way possible.

He’s insatiable, and as my tits bounce in his face, his greedy mouth latches onto one of my nipples and bites down, hard. His hands find my ass cheeks and he spreads them so wide as he pounds into me, it feels like his cock is splitting me in half.

I’m thrown into a state of catatonic bliss as the pain and pleasure he gives me compete for my undivided attention. His teeth clamp down on my nipple and I throw my head back and moan. “Oh, my god. That feels so fucking good.”

As his thick cock pulls a mind-blowing orgasm out of me, I pound my fist against his chest and curse his name. “Cyrus. Cyrus. Oh my fucking god, Cy—”

Cyrus silences my curse with a filthy kiss as his hips move more furiously. The stimulus is too much and I’m on the precipice of pushing him when I feel his muscles stiffen and he releases a powerful orgasm of his own as tongue dances with mine.

The two of us sit there for a moment with bodies intertwined, neither of us willing to be the first to part. After a few minutes, I’m the first to move, and Cyrus presses his forehead against mine.

“Not that exciting, huh?” He teases, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me tightly.

“Don’t get it twisted, Cole.” I say, fighting the smile threatening to form on my lips. “I still hate you.”

Cyrus groans as I pull myself off of him and fall to the ground

. I roll out on my back and lay there for a second just trying to catch my breath.

“You can hate me. For now.” He smirks, folding his arms behind his head. “But one day, P. You’re going to love me.”

“You’re ridiculous.” I say, shaking my head as I lean against my elbows. “For the record, Cy. I don’t hate you.” I say, looking up at the dark beams running along the ceiling.

“Come on, there’s a little hate in there. I feel it.”

“I hate myself.” I confess. “Maybe that’s what you’re feeling?”

“Princess, don’t blame—”

“Don’t.” I say, sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest. “Don’t try to make me feel better.” I release a breath and wrap my arms around my knees before continuing. “What happened to Alex isn’t anyone’s fault, but my own. I knew the risks of being with you guys and I went along with it, anyway. Alex is gone because of my choices. Not yours. I’m an awful person and I don’t deserve anyone’s love.”

I blink back the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. I will not sit here and feel sorry for myself. I’ve got myself into this mess and I have to deal with the fucking consequences and figure my own way out.

“That’s not true.” He says, shifting to a seated position to run his hands along my bare arms.

“Yes, it is.” I say, glaring back at him. “You just don’t see.”

“I know what the fuck I see, P.” He says, pulling me back into his lap. “I see someone who’s kind. And strong. Someone who would do whatever it takes to protect the people she loves. Tell me, does that sound like someone who doesn't deserve love?”

I lean back in his powerful arms and absorb the attention I know I don’t deserve. Despite what he says, I know I’ll never be able to right my wrongs. To undo whatever damage is being done to my sister, but if Cyrus can still look at me and see someone who deserves to be loved. Maybe after we save her, and everything is said and done, I’ll be able to look at myself in the same light. Maybe.