A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(89)

Carter avoided Max’s stare and grabbed for the cigarettes in his back pocket. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I went for a walk.”

Max snorted and winced all at the same time. “A walk, huh? And what’s her name?”

Ignoring his question, Carter opened his lighter. He shook his head, watching Max flail when Laura tried to put an ice pack on his face. “The f*ck were you thinking?”

“Don’t worry,” Max soothed with a drunken wave of his hand. “I’ll get that coke back. I swear to God, I will. You’ve got my back, right?”

Carter sighed and took a long pull from his smoke. “Sure, Max.”

He lifted from his seat and pulled his cell from his jeans pocket when he felt it vibrate: a text. Peaches.

I’m home and fine.

Carter smiled. He allowed his index finger to linger along his bottom lip, remembering the feel of her mouth on his, and the sensation of having her in his arms. He knew there were parts of himself—unknown, unexplored, and dormant parts—that whispered certain words in an attempt to label what it was he was feeling for her. So far, he’d dismissed them swiftly and fervently and simply continued to lust after her body and mind. He didn’t want a goddamn label, he just wanted his Peaches in as many ways as she would allow.

He glanced at his bruised friend, fighting the ball of unease and anxiety that swelled in his stomach at the thought of being arrested because of Max’s stupidity. At this rate, Carter would be back in Kill before Christmas.

The text message from his girl shone bright and clear. He thought of the feel of her under his hands, the way her body moved against his, the promises they made.

No, Carter thought. He couldn’t allow himself to be put back inside. He would not lose his Peaches.

*

The skies in DC were gray and stormy, the weather as gloomy as the faces of the two women walking through the vast graveyard. Kat walked slowly with her mother’s arm tucked through her own while they ambled to the headstone that had changed very little in sixteen years. Her mother tightened her hold when the plot came into view.

Kat clasped her palm over her mother’s. “You okay?”

Eva nodded. “Seeing it again after so long is always the hardest part.” They walked across the path, closer to the grave. Kat always allowed her mother to speak first and, as Eva placed a deep red rose against the black marble, Kat turned away and left her to her private moment.

Wandering slowly down the path, Kat allowed her mind to travel back to New York.

Saturday had been a complete shock—her neighbor’s bachelorette party taking an unexpected but very exciting turn. A rush of warmth dissolved in her stomach when she remembered the sensation of Carter dancing, grinding, and touching her.

Words spoken and texts sent since the night in the club only confirmed that Kat wanted Carter in ways she’d been fighting since the day they met. She wanted to be with him. He was stripping her bare of everything she’d ever known, and she had to admit she liked it. It was scary, exhilarating, and dangerous, but she was eager to do what she could to be with him in any way possible.

The lines initially drawn between the two of them were now smudges, merging into the ground at Kat’s feet. Now more than ever, she was prepared to cross them, knowing deep within her heart that Carter would be waiting for her on the other side.

Streaks of soft tear lines were visible down Eva’s cheeks when Kat arrived back at her side.

“Are you all right?”

A look of contentment surrounded Eva’s eyes. “I am now,” she replied, walking away. “Take your time, Katherine.”