Page 145 of Gravehouse

“Oh shit…” Leon mumbles. “Someone should stop her.”

“Fuck no! Leave her.” That’s Khloe.

I shove him hard, he stumbles, and we both land on the floor. His laughter turns maniacal.

“You fucking done yet?” He spits blood on the floor, giving me a crimson smirk.

Shoving off him, I press my own fingers to my side, blood pulsing through the gaps.

I stagger upright and head straight for the couch where my other blade dropped.

Blood seeps through my shirt. Each step pulls, but adrenaline keeps me moving.I will not show weakness.

Asher props himself up on one elbow.

His grin spreads, then vanishes the second his eyes hit my side.

“Tell me that’s my blood and not yours?” he sneers. The crazy version of him gone, buried beneath the possessive asshole I know.

The blade flips in my palm like a trick, but Asher moves faster.

One hand catches my wrist and twists it inward. His other locks over the steel, gripping until skin splits. Blood wells between his fingers where the edge bites into his palm.

He wrenches the knife loose and it clatters across the concrete.

I’m about to swing a right hook when his full weight drives me to the ground, knocking all the air out of my lungs.

With one knee jammed into my hip and his bleeding hand pinning my wrist to the floor above my head, he holds me there like he’s afraid I’m going to bolt.

“Since I’m gonna go ahead and say your fucking stitches have torn,” Asher grinds out through his teeth, “and to limit the risk of you actually fucking bleeding out and killing yourself, I’m gonna spill some fucking facts.”

The floor drops out from under me.

His breath catches, but he keeps me still.

“I’m fucking sorry.” Asher shakes his head. “That I lied, that I hid shit from you, and that I’m a fucking disappointment, but mostly? Because he is yourfather.”

The words spread through my veins like poison.

“You can fucking kill me after for all I care.” His forehead skims mine. “But this time? Do a better fucking job because I can’t live with the fact that you hate me, Venom.”

Before I can punch him again, his fingers close around my wrist, deadlocking me mid-swing.

Asher…

“Let me go.” It hurts. Everything fucking hurts. “Let me the fuck go—” A hiccup cuts in. “I hate you. I fucking hate you?—”

“No, you don’t,” he replies with too much calm for someone I just fucked up.

He catches my other wrist, forcing both above my head until there’s nothing left between us but his bare chest pressed to mine.

“I’ll kill you.” Tears stream down my face, blurring my vision. “I swear to God, I’ll?—“

“You won’t.” The words are warm against my mouth. He’s everywhere. His weight and his scent pulling me back from wherever I’d gone.

“Let me go.” My voice cracks around the rock in my throat. “Please.”

He swallows, wincing. “Never.”