“Don't talk like that,” Aaron snarls back at me, hissing in pain when I grind the heel of my hand against his shoulder. “I believe in you, Bernadette, even if you don't believe in yourself.”

I throw my head back with a laugh, wondering if I really am a perfect slice of sin, Vic's wicked other half. We could do horrible things together. Fuck, we could topple cities. We could rule the world. Or the underworld, at the very least. Despite his tough, new exterior, Aaron is still trying to be the good guy. It's a tired shtick.

I drop my head back down, so I can look at him. And then I roll my hips.

Aaron groans as the baggy t-shirt rides up and my panties slide against the bulge in his sweats. He's hard for me, despite our arguments, despite his pain. I push against the bullet wound in his shoulder even harder, staining the bandage red with blood, and he sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Aaron,” I begin, rocking against him again, knowing that Vic won't have gone far. Likely, he's right outside the front door. Shit, maybe he's watching me again? One can only hope. He deserves to see this, deserves to see me and Aaron wrapped up in each other. “If you don't start treating me like a member of Havoc, instead of your childhood sweetheart, we're going to have problems.”

“How do you want me to treat you then?” he barks back at me, gritting his teeth. I'm pissing him off. Good. That's how I want him. I don't want him gazing at me like I'm the love of his life, like he needs to set me free, send me off to Nantucket to lounge on the beach and sip cherry cola as I make eyes at the town cutie. That's not my life. That's not what I'm destined to do.

Fate has never been kind to me, so I decline to be kind to fate. I'm going to twist my entire destiny and put it on a course that I've chartered—even if that course sends me straight into the pits of Hades.

“Treat me like the newest member of your little gang. Treat me like an initiate, but keep in mind that one day I'll be queen.” Aaron's eyes narrow, his mouth tightening into a thin line. He doesn't like the implications—that by marrying Vic, I'll be his queen—but he doesn't challenge them. Not yet. That's what I want. I hadn't realized it until now, but that's what I need. I want Aaron to stand up for me, to fight for us, for what we could have been.

Whether he likes it or not, I'm a part of Havoc. Blood in, blood out, right? And I don't know how long this particular arrangement—that is, me being the only woman in the group—is going to last, but for now, I'm going to take advantage of it.

These boys are mine, even if they've managed to royally piss me off. I'm going to use them the same way they're using me.

“You want me to treat you like shit, huh?” Aaron quips back, scowling at me. I'd say it doesn't fit his face, but I have to face reality the same way he does: Aaron is not the boy I grew up with. I am not that girl. We have to accept who we are together, or else we're never going to get along. That, and I have to know all his secrets, all of Havoc's secrets. I need to know if they've castrated someone and carved Rapist into their forehead. I need to know if they have a video of my sister and the Thing. I need to know what Kali truly paid them and why they did what they did to me. “Because I can do that.”

“How many girls have you been with since me?” I ask, rocking my hips again, feeling his muscles tighten underneath me. Carefully, I peel the bandage from his shoulder, staring at Nurse Yes-Scott's tiny, little stitches, watching the blood ooze out from between them. He's going to have a nasty scar there, no doubt about that. Aaron doesn't say anything for several minutes, so I push my panties against his crotch again. They're soaked straight through. I wonder if he can feel that when he reaches down and grabs my ass in two tattooed hands.

“Are you hoping for a specific answer?” he asks, looking me in the face, his eyes the color of the fall leaves outside, this glorious mix of green and gold and brown. Nuanced, just like he is. “Because you're not going to like it.”

I go still, pausing the movement of my hips, waiting for an answer to a simple question.

“Will I be jealous?” I ask carefully, feeling that hungry monster inside of me, green with envy and eating up self-confidence that I know I have. I've got plenty to burn, so it doesn't shake me too much, but I need to hear this answer. I need him to tell me he slept with a hundred girls, but that all of them had my face, that he used them because he couldn't have me. That's what I want to hear. Instead, he surprises the shit out of me.

“I haven't slept with anyone since,” he tells me, and he sounds almost … shamed by it. “I gave up the only girl I ever loved; I hurt her. I don't deserve to be happy, and I most definitely don't need to fuck somebody I don't like. That I'll never love.”

I stay stone-still, unsure about what to think. He said I wasn't going to like his answer: he was right. He isn't supposed to be able to surprise me, to convince me that he's got a spark of the old Aaron deep inside somewhere. That isn't fair, not when I've just finally embraced the dark side.

“You're lying,” I snap back at him, moving to stand up, to storm out, to get the fuck out of this house and away from these boys. I don't know what to think when I'm around them, how to act. But Aaron doesn't let me go; his hands tighten on my ass, bruising me, holding me in place. In retaliation, I stick my thumb into his wound, and he grits his teeth so hard I'm afraid he's going to break one off.

“Why the fuck would I lie about that?” he snarls back at me, using his hands to guide my hips, so that our pelvises grind together. It's been years since I last slept with Aaron, since right before we broke up. Well, except for that one time … I don't let myself go back to that memory, focusing instead on the ardent intensity of the moment.

“Because you thought I'd enjoy such shallow sentimentality?” I quip back, cocking a brow and then reaching down to curl my fingers beneath the bottom of the t-shirt. With an indolent sensuality, I strip it off and toss it aside, leaving my breasts bare and right at the level of Aaron's face. He exhales, and his warm breath feathers across my nipples, hardening them to fine, pink points.

“It isn't sentimentality, Bern. It's just how I fucking feel.” Aaron gathers me close, wrapping tattooed arms around me. They feel like home, those arms, but like I've walked into an entirely new renovation. I'm liking it, I'm just not used to it, not yet.

My head falls back as I groan, tangling my fingers in Aaron's auburn hair as he swirls his hot tongue around my nipple. His arms hold me tight, almost possessively. No, not almost. Definitely possessive.

Well, if Aaron wants to take me away from Vic, he's going to have to stand up for himself. He's going to have to fight.

I'm not expecting him to bite my nipple, and I cry out, clamping my hands over my mouth and closing my eyes as I remember the girls are upstairs. I told them to stay put, but … Shit. The fact that we could get caught should make me stop. But I can't. Guess I'm just that weak.

My hips seem to be moving of their own accord, stroking Aaron's bulge against the torrid heat between my thighs. It's not enough though, not even close. Just a fucking tease.