Chapter Thirty-Three

I wake up early in the morning, feeling refreshed but sore. Jaxon still sleeps beside me on his stomach, his face burrowed in the pillow. I slip out of bed, do my business in the bathroom, and get dressed. I'm rummaging through the kitchen, looking for something to eat, when I spot a jar with sourdough starter that I didn't notice last night.

A smile tugs at my lips. "God, I love him."

I spend the next hour making sourdough bread and reading random internet instructions about the best temperature and time to bake the bread.

Jaxon slips behind me as I pull a bowl-shaped sourdough from the oven and place it on the cooling racks. It's a little crispy, but it's still edible. I put another bowl into the oven to bake for forty minutes.

Jaxon's hands settle on my waist, and he brushes his lips along my throat. A shiver runs up my spine, and I giggle at the tickle of his five o'clock shadow against my skin. I sink my front teeth into my bottom lip as tingles shoot between my legs .

"Stop." I laugh and raise my shoulder, gently knocking him off of me. "How do you have this much stamina?"

"Mmm." Jaxon's hand creeps around my middle, palming my apron belly. "Because it's you."

I lay my hand over his, noticing that he isn't wearing a ring on his finger. "We need to get you a wedding ring."

"Yeah?" He kisses my shoulder and raises his hand to gaze at the bare finger.

"Maybe we can renew our wedding vows and I can at least remember it this time."

He nips my skin, earning a yelp from me. "Maybe if you ask with a little less attitude."

I grin and turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes dance with mirth, and the gentle smile curling his full lips steals the breath from my lungs. "Do you want me to get on my knees to ask you?"

His expression darkens. "Be careful," he growls.

I smile at him innocently. "What? Just a question."

He slaps my ass, stinging the cheek. I yell and jump forward, but he catches me and brings me back against his body. His mouth descends, and my eyes flutter closed as I part my lips for a kiss. His breath fans against my mouth and I wait and wait and wait before I open my eyes and find him smirking.

"Good girls get kisses. Bad, slutty girls get fucked," he murmurs.

My cheeks warm with a blush. "But I am a good girl."

He pinches his fingers under my chin, turning my head a little more toward him. "You're my good, slutty girl."

My heart thumps faster, tightening my chest and making it a little harder to breathe. I love being called a good girl, but if I'm Jaxon's good, slutty girl, then I'll be that. He can say he wants a dog, and I'll start barking. I'll be whatever he wants me to be .

The corners of his lips quirk. "You like being called that?"

I nod, unable to find words without stuttering and sounding stupid.

"Good." He grins and pecks me on the tip of my nose when I really want him to kiss me on the lips. "I see you've found the starter."

I blink out of the state of shock and follow the direction of his gaze. I perk and turn to face him. "I did. Thank you for doing that for me."

Jaxon's features soften, and he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "I'd do anything for you, flower."

I catch his wrist and kiss the middle of his palm, enjoying his sharp intake of breath. Something I've been meaning to ask him pops into my mind. "By the way, I meant to tell you thank you for the ring. It's beautiful. Where did you get it? Maybe we can go to the shop and find you a band."

Jaxon's grin turns wicked. "You like it, huh?"

My eyebrows furrow. "Yeah. What's that smile for?"

"It's a custom ring. I also have a few other pieces that I've been meaning to give you." He holds his finger up and leaves the kitchen. A minute later, he comes back with a black bag.

I take the offered gift and pull out the boxes. Jaxon eagerly watches as I open one, revealing a beautiful skull necklace with more diamonds. The other box has a pair of diamond earrings with what look like bones attached to them.

"It's beautiful." I pull out the necklace, and he helps me put it on. Brushing my fingertips over the earrings, I say, "What kind of bones are these?"

Jaxon crowds behind me and shuffles me toward the counter, where I lay the boxes down. He cages me in, with his hands on the edge of the table. "Fingers that have been whittled down."

My spine straightens, and I look ahead of me, my heart making itself at home in my throat. "Fingers? "

He drapes my hair over one shoulder and kisses my neck. I wait for him to answer, but he focuses entirely on kissing my skin like he's making love. Slow and delicate. One of his hands moves to my apron belly, squeezing the roll and slipping down the front of the sleep shorts I threw on earlier this morning.

"Jaxon," I whisper, and settle my hands on the counter to hold myself up.

"Hm?"

"What do you mean, fingers? They aren't...they aren't human fingers, are they?"

He chuckles and spreads my pussy lips apart and dips his middle finger to rub my clit in slow circles. "Oh, they're human fingers. Michael's, to be exact."

I stiffen. "Why would you . . . ?"

His fingers still, and he lifts his head, his gaze burning a hole in the side of my face. Thick tension fills the space between us. "Do you remember now?"

I swallow and nod. "Yes."

"I'm always good about keeping my word," he murmurs.

Shifting, he drags my shorts down to my knees and jerks my hips backward so my ass is out. I barely have any warning before he frees his cock and thrusts into me with a loud grunt.

"He touched you." Thrust. "Hurt you." Thrust. "So I took his hand, and you'll wear those earrings to serve as a reminder of what happens when someone touches and hurts you. I killed Connor and Kyle too. Last night, in fact, and soon you'll be wearing their bones as well."

It takes a moment for me to know who he's talking about. "So you know? About the pictures?"

Jaxon's fingers trail over my jaw in a loving caress. "Yes, and they paid with their lives."

Guilt eats at me but not for the reason it should. I feel awful for feeling relieved about their deaths, but they were assholes to me in high school, and those pictures still haunt me to this day.

"What about the pictures?" I ask.

Jaxon thrusts harder, jerking me forward. He stops me from falling face first into the counter with his hands on my hips. "I got rid of them. They're not floating around the internet anymore."

"But what about the people who might've saved?—"

"They're dead." He leans forward and kisses right behind my ear. "This is the reason why I've been gone so much. My friends and I have been busy getting rid of the pieces of shit who made you cry and screwed you over."

His movements are slow but deep. Each time he spears into me, it's done so as a punishment. He wants me to feel every inch of him and wince when he hits too deep. I should hate him for this. I should hate him for using a human's finger to make earrings.

But I can't bring myself to. Nor can I hate him for killing Kyle, Connor, and whoever else. I've always told myself that what goes around comes around, and Jaxon happened to be the one to hurry karma up.

Jaxon leans his chest against my back, curling himself against me like he's using himself as a blanket. His hand rests on the edge of the counter, and his lips brush my ear, ensuring I hear every moan and whimper from him.

"You know what those diamonds are made from?" he whispers.

I shake my head and part my lips on a breathless sigh when he angles his hips, his pierced shaft hitting a spot that makes my toes curl.

"My cum."

"How sweet," someone says behind us.

We both tense and look over our shoulders. Jaxon stays balls deep inside me, still rocking his hips against mine as though having a gun pointed at us isn't something to be concerned with.

Rage burns in Mickey's eyes as he holds the weapon, his finger resting on the trigger. His lips curl back in a snarl, like all the other people who look at us in disgust. "I warned you," he says. "I told you I'd get my payback. I didn't realize you'd be fucking your sister, you sick freak."

"Mickey—"

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," he snaps. "This whole time you've been fucking your brother? I knew it!"

Jaxon rocks into me a little harder and smirks when I look at him. "Not the whole time," he says in a bored tone. "But we might as well have been."

Jesus Christ. Is he not scared to die? Mickey looks like he's seconds away from emptying the magazine into us.

"Get away from her or I'll blow your brains out!" Mickey yells, then shoves his gun closer to intimidate us.

It works for me, but not for my brother. Jaxon grabs my shoulder and holds me still when I try to wiggle away from him. He side-eyes Mickey, clearly not impressed. "Put the gun down."

Mickey guffaws. "Your lame attempt at intimidating me while you're still balls deep in your sister isn't working the way you were hoping it would." His lips curl in disgust. "I thought I was seeing things the other night when I saw you two together, but clearly not."

I stiffen. That was Mickey at the park the other night?

I push back against Jaxon, intending to knock him away, but he shoves forward, his cock hitting deeper. I bite my bottom lip to quiet myself.

"Put the gun down," Jaxon says through clenched teeth.

"Jaxon," I say. I meant for it to be scornful, not sound like I'm moaning his name.

Mickey turns his icy gaze to me and sneers. "I knew you were a sick bitch. Is he really the one you want fucking you?" He scoffs. "You couldn't get laid, so you settled for the next best thing? You both need help."

Jaxon's full lips quirk, and I know from that small smile that bad things are about to happen. He grabs my waist with both hands and pistons into me. "Yeah, we are sick," he says with the same mischievous smile I saw when he goaded our dad. "Wanna see how good my little sister makes me feel?"

Mickey's eyebrows pinch together, and his head rears back. He looks at his gun, then back to Jaxon, clearly confused as to why my brother is still fucking me while he's at gunpoint. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You think a gun scares me?" Jaxon raises my leg to reach a different angle inside me. The position gives Mickey a better view of where we're joined, and he stares with parted lips, his chest rising and falling faster. This is so fucked up, and I don't understand why Mickey hasn't shot us yet.

Mickey's finger twitches on the trigger. Jaxon moves so quickly that I stumble, nearly falling on my ass as he slips out of me. He grabs the hot sourdough and whips around, his arm held back. In the process of swinging it, he cuts me and barely gives me an apologetic look before he bashes it against Mickey's head.

The gun goes flying and lands on the ground. A loud bang echoes in the kitchen, and I duck, praying the bullet doesn't hit me. Wood splinters and I twist to the right, a shaky, relieved breath spilling out of me at the bullet hole that's an inch past my shoulder.

"Call her a freak again," Jaxon says, all too calmly.

I turn back to my brother and fall to my ass in shock.

Jaxon straddles Mickey's stomach and slashes the sourdough across his neck. I didn't realize how sharp the crust was until now.

Mickey screams and grapples at his throat. Jaxon bludgeons Mickey's face with the bread and tosses it aside to punch him repeatedly. My stomach churns at the meaty sounds of muscles and tissue being ripped apart amid Mickey's guttural and wet noises.

"Jaxon," I whisper.

Shadows hang over my brother's vacant eyes as he bashes Mickey's face in until blood pools beneath his head.

I crawl to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders and bury my face in his arm. "Big brother," I whisper.

Jaxon freezes. I don't let go of him, too afraid that if I do, he'll black out again and keep hitting a dead body. He turns and draws me into his chest. Relief fills not only him, but me as well. I'm always afraid he'll get lost in his mind and won't ever come back to me. His fingers burrow in my hair as he cradles the nape of my neck.

"Are you with me?" I mumble.

"Yes." His chest vibrates with the growled word.

"What have you done?"

He's quiet for a moment, then says, "The Reckoning is until eight."

Meaning the laws don't touch him . . . touch us.

Jaxon shifts, and I lean away from him. He helps me stand, tucks his soft cock back into his sweats, then brings the blood-splattered sourdough to the counter.

My eyebrows furrow as he grabs a bread knife. "What are you doing? You're not eating that, are you?"

He slices off a barely bloody piece on the end and takes a huge bite out of it. His eyes slide closed as he savors the taste, like he's eating an aphrodisiac and not just bread. I cringe as he slowly chews, then swallows.

"I got you earlier," he says, his voice huskier.

"What?"

He opens his eyes and nods toward my arm. "I cut you with the sourdough. "

I glance down and notice the cut along my bicep. Slowly, I look at him, just as he bites into the bloody slice, his eyes dark and full of a hunger that no food can sate as he stares at me.

"Are you... ?" I grab my stomach as nausea hits me hard. "Are you eating the sourdough with my blood on it?"

Jaxon blinks, then smirks as he takes another bite. "You've always tasted amazing, sis."

I stumble against the counter and lean on it to keep myself standing. Jaxon pops the rest of the slice into his mouth and dusts off his hands. He checks Mickey's dead body, then the time, and grabs the gun that's several feet away from the corpse. He squeezes the trigger and unloads the rest of the clip into Mickey.

I yell and cover my ears as the noise rings in my eardrums until they threaten to burst.

"What the hell?" I shriek.

"Making sure he's dead."

"Well, is he?"

Jaxon looks at me with a deadpan stare. "He is now."