《Death of Me》Extended Stay

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Three quick raps on my door caught my attention a couple hours later. I got up off the couch so fast that my legs tangled in the blanket I had draped over them, nearly causing me to faceplant. I threw the damned thing back on the couch with a curse and flew to the door. Vincent had kept me as updated as he could since I had gotten home, but I had still been a ball of anxiety the whole time.

The security panel beeped as I disengaged it, then I flung the door open.

Vincent swept into the apartment before I could utter a word, and I made sure to reengage the system after the door was shut. Spinning to face him, I jumped when I realized how close he was. He crowded me back against the door, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck as his thumbs pressed against the underside of my jaw. With the slightest pressure, he encouraged me to meet his eyes.

They swallowed me whole. I couldn't think past my next breath as Vincent's eyes devoured me. And then his lips were on mine and my thoughts eddied out. My only focus was on the urgency in his kiss. As if he were trying to reassure himself that I was still there.

"Are you okay?" we asked in unison when we came up for air.

I could feel the tension leave his shoulders as he chuckled. "I'm better now."

"Good." Taking his hand, I lead him over to the couch with me. We settled in together, and he pulled my legs across his lap before tucking my head under his chin. "What happened after I left?"

"We managed to get the place cleared out pretty fast. But he was gone. It was like there was no trace of him."

"Who was he?"

Vincent paused, his arms tightening around me for a moment. Then he exhaled and ran his hand up and down my arm before continuing. "Jaxon Graham."

"What?" I choked out.

"He's the reason Alana's dead," he said, closing his eyes as if he could ward off the pain. "He ordered the hit on her. Because I killed his father and took the gang from him."

The silence that surrounded us was deafening. I grabbed his hand, entwining our fingers together in a small show of solidarity.

"I knew Alana was killed," I said. His eyes snapped open, finding mine and swimming with questions. "Dante told me. He didn't know that I wasn't aware of the full story. But he said that as far as he knew, you had killed the man responsible."

"I thought I had," he muttered, letting out a deep sigh through his nose.

"What happened?"

He cut his gaze to me, and I could read the unspoken question in his forest eyes: Did I really want to know the full story? I did, so I nodded for him to continue.

"We had him cornered. We had tracked him all the way to the marina two cities over. I shot him right in the chest. Right in the heart, and he fell into the water. When he didn't resurface, I assumed he was rotting at the bottom of the bay."

"Until tonight."

"Until tonight," he echoed, squeezing my hand. "I just want to know how no one knew he was back in the city. He was the son of Andras Graham, and somehow, he's back in Valarian and no one thought to tell me."

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"I'm sure he knew to lay low," I said, laying my head back against his shoulder. "But you'll find him. He was ballsy enough to come tonight. He must not be trying to hide anymore."

"Tonight was invite only, so someone had to have told him. Someone has to know where he is," he mused, shifting enough to pull his phone out of his pocket. It was vibrating, and I saw Lucas's name flash across the screen. "I have to take this."

"Go ahead." I made to untangle myself from him, but he just pulled me deeper into his embrace.

"What did you find?" he asked the minute the call connected. Despite everything, a smile pulled at the edges of my lips. I guess I was fully initiated. I could vaguely hear the sound of Lucas's voice on the other end, but not the words. Vincent's eyebrows lowered, casting dark shadows over his cheekbones. They exchanged a few more words, and then he hung up. He pitched his phone onto the coffee table. It hit with a clatter, skidding off the opposite side. "Fuck," he hissed, running his free hand through his dark hair.

"I take it that wasn't good news."

"The guys patrolled the area around the club, trying to find anything. Nothing."

"We'll find him, Vincent."

At that he turned to me, one of his sculpted brows reaching for his hairline. "We?"

"To the death, remember?"

"To the death." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Can you and Dexter come stay with me for a while?"

I blanched. "What?"

"I don't want to hide you. You're mine, and I want everyone to damn well know it. But, until we put him in the ground for good, I would feel better if I could personally keep an eye on you as much as possible."

"Sounding a little possessive there, Vinnie."

His eyes lit with a dark promise as he leaned into me. "Right now is probably not the best time to let your bratty tendencies come out to play," he said, his breath skating over the spot where my neck met my shoulder. His stubble scraped against my throat as he trailed kisses higher, causing a shiver to skitter down my spine.

"Why's that?" I asked, my voice cracking as I sucked in a breath.

Vincent's laugh caused goosebumps to blossom across my skin. Without answering me, he lightly bit down on the soft spot where my neck met my shoulder. The moan that it elicited was indecent, and I felt him grow hard beneath me. In the span of a heartbeat, he had me resituated so that I was straddling him. He didn't let me catch my breath before his lips covered mine.

The next few hours were a tangle of limbs, tongues, and promises whispered in the dark. And when we were finally cuddled together in my bed, I allowed myself to absorb the silence that settled over us. Vincent had his arms wrapped around my waist, and my back pulled flush against his chest. My breathing synced to his as he fell asleep. But my mind wandered as I idly stroked the back of his hand.

Something about tonight was still nagging at me. We had missed something. I wasn't sure what it could possibly be, but I could feel it in my gut.

It kept me awake for most of the night. But no matter how many times I ran over the guest list in my head, or how many times I recombed through the events of the night, nothing jumped out at me. I wasn't sure why I thought I could pick up on something when none of the boys could, but I still wanted to try.

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Maybe I was trying to prove to myself that I could do it. That I could stand at Vincent's side and be just as in control as he was. But, I knew that more than anything, it came back to my desire to protect him. As ridiculous as that notion was, it was still there. He had already lost so many people, we both had. The last thing I wanted was to be seen as unworthy to hold any sway over the gang.

By the time dawn was cresting over the horizon I still hadn't come up with any new ideas. Slowly but surely, the darkness in my room ebbed away. Heaving a deep sigh, I forced my eyes closed and snuggled deeper into Vincent. I needed sleep.

* * * * *

"What time did you say your training session was today?" Vincent asked, poking his head out from the bathroom.

"Four," I replied, glancing up from the text I had been sending Devyn. "Why?"

"Think we can get some of your stuff over to the warehouse beforehand?"

Blowing some hair out of my face, I tapped my phone against my knee. "Are you sure that's what you want? Having Dexter and me underfoot might –"

"Don't even finish that sentence," he said, cutting me off. The glare he leveled at me was frigid, but I just gave him an equally flat stare. "Juliette, I'm serious. Until Graham 2.0 is dealt with, I need you close."

My lips twitched. "Graham 2.0?" He threw the hand towel he had been using at me. "Alright, alright. I'll pack."

Thirty minutes later, I had two bags packed with everything I would need for a short stay at Vincent's. Dexter had his head hanging out of the back window, and one of Alana's recitals was filtering through the SUV. Knowing how important the music was to Vincent made me appreciate it even more as we made the cross-city drive. He had our fingers entwined, and my stomach gave a pleasant flip as he raised my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. Forest eyes found mine and I tried not to be struck dumb by the intensity there; the fire that was always hiding in the depths of his gaze. One of many things that kept drawing me back to him again and again.

"What're you thinking?" he murmured, refocusing on the road.

"Just about how crazy my life has gotten."

"I'm sorry," he said, brushing his thumb across my knuckles. "I know the situation isn't ideal, and I'm being an overbearing ass about it, but I'll sleep better knowing you're safe."

"At least you can admit it."

He just shook his head at me. He gave my hand a quick squeeze before maneuvering the car with the other. Before I knew it, we were pulling up outside of the warehouse. Vincent put his phone to his ear as he followed me around to the back of the SUV. From the sound of the chipper voice I could hear, it was Lucas on the other end of the line. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I grabbed one of my bags and let him take the other. He slung the duffel over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around my waist before herding Dexter and me toward the door. His conversation with Lucas was brief as he filled him in on the plan. Something like annoyance crossed his face before he mashed the end button.

"What was that about?" I asked, raising my brows.

Vincent blew out a breath. "Lucas is too excited to have you here for the foreseeable future. He's going to drive you insane."

"Maybe I will just actually kill him."

"Oh, really?" He grinned, pulling me close. "And just which of your twenty-seven ways are you going to use?"

"I haven't decided yet. I'm sure he'll inspire a few more once he gets here."

As we crossed through the threshold, there was a lull in the conversation. A hush fell over the warehouse as all eyes snapped to us. Gazes drifted from Vincent, to the arm he still had draped around me, and then finally to my face. Their curiosity was a living entity that decided to take up residence in the room. I pulled my shoulder's back a little and lifted my chin. Sure, I had been to the warehouse a few times, but even the last time hadn't felt like this.

Something had changed. The stares felt heavier.

The last time I had accompanied Vincent through these doors, I hadn't wanted any part of this life. Had been content to test the waters from a safe distance. From the looks I was getting, something told me the rest of the gang had been made aware of the change in Vincent's and my relationship. As we passed through the room on our way to the back staircase, my suspicions were confirmed. Each person we passed met Vincent's gaze before dipping their head in a show of respect.

And then they did the same for me.

I returned the gestures in kind and could feel the tension leave Vincent's shoulders as we mounted the stairs. Once we were on the second floor and away from prying eyes, Vincent dropped my bag to the ground. At the bewildered expression on my face, one of his broad grins broke free. He placed his hands on my hips and moved us until my back was flush with the brick. He molded his body to mine, slipping his knee between my legs.

"You do realize we only have one more set of stairs and then we'd be in private, right?" I asked, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze.

"Maybe I couldn't wait."

"For what?"

"This."

His mouth came down on mine, efficiently cutting off whatever I had been about to say. He drew a moan from me by nipping my bottom lip. The bag I had in my hand slipped through my fingers. Once they were free, my arms wound around Vincent's neck and I dragged myself closer to him. He grinned against my mouth, and his hands moved down to my waist. His touch was scalding as his slipped his fingers beneath my shirt, causing me to gasp.

"Can you two please not fuck right outside my door?"

"Oh, for gods sake," Vincent growled. The only part of himself he moved away from me was his head. Other than that, I was still pinned to the wall. "Go back inside."

"Is that an order?" Brandon asked, raising his eyebrows as he leaned against the doorframe. The doorframe that Vincent and I were barely two inches away from.

"Would you take it better coming from me?" I asked.

Brandon gave me a wicked grin. "Probably."

"Then go back inside."

"Fine." A sly smirk slid across his face as he glanced over his shoulder back into his apartment. "I have better things to do anyway."

A girlish giggle emanated through the closed door, and Vincent and I exchanged mystified glances.

"Any idea who that is?" I questioned, urging him back a few steps so I could fix my clothes.

"I have an idea," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Without offering me any other explanation, he bent down and grabbed both bags we had dropped. I didn't bother to try and stop him as he grabbed my hand and towed me up the last flight of stairs to his apartment. Dexter sniffed along the bottom of Brandon's door until I called for him. The slightest whine slipped out of him as he trotted after us.

My phone pinged with a text as soon as we crossed the threshold into Vincent's.

Am I going to hear you two, or can I go back to sleep?

"Devyn?" I blurted, whipping my head up to look at Vincent. "It's Devyn down there with him?"

"He said you insisted someone watch over her."

"First of all, I said Arkin," I muttered, shooting a quick text to Devyn to let her know that she now owed me details. "And this wasn't what I meant."

"Arkin might be down there too."

I choked.

Mirth was dancing in Vincent's dark eyes as he watched me struggle to regain control of my breathing.

"You wanna run that by me again?" I finally got out.

"They share, sometimes," he said, shrugging as he headed for the spiral staircase that led up to the bedroom. "Although, Brandon seems a little smitten with Devyn. So, maybe not this time."

"Smitten," I repeated, following him in a daze. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. For someone like Devyn, who had more love to give than she really knew what to do with, maybe having the both of them was exactly what she needed.

"And before you ask," Vincent called, causing me to realize I had stopped walking at some point. "Yes, they both know that it's you they're going to have to deal with should anything go sideways."

"I appreciate the thought," I said, laughter lacing my tone as I emerged into the bedroom. "But Devyn's a big girl. She can make her own decisions and fight her own battles."

"Well, Brandon and Arkin both think you're going to skin them alive if they so much as make her pout, so I'm just going to let them keep thinking that."

"When did they become so afraid of me?"

"When I told them they should be."

"Are you afraid of me?"

His eyes met mine. His grin turned feral as he stalked toward me. Even though part of me wanted to make him chase me, I stood my ground. And as always, he invaded my space until he was the only thing I could focus on. His hands cupped my face, thumbs stroking along my cheekbones as his fingers threaded through my hair.

"The only think I'm afraid of, princess," he murmured, leaning down to brush his nose against mine. "is losing you."

"You're quite the sap, you know that?"

"I do."

"Not what I expected when I first met you. Remember, when you were threatening to kill me?"

"How long are you going to hold that against me?"

I let a wicked smile break across my face. "To the death."

"However slow or swift it may come," he finished.

When he pulled me toward the bed, I decided I didn't care if we kept Devyn and Brandon and Arkin up all night. 

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