Hard to Kill (Hell Hounds Harem Book 6) Read online

  But that’s what she was right? A victim. Had cops come to the house and unearthed her corpse, they’d have labeled her “victim” and most likely would never use her name. They’d have marked all the evidence of her brutal murder and said things like, “The victim’s body showed signs of strangulation,” and “The killer dragged the victim’s body down the hall.”

  All that she would ever be was the victim. What a fucking way to go.

  Snot mixed with her tears, and she probably even drooled a little while she ugly cried. She was so angry and hurt and scared and sad and fucked up in so many ways, she couldn’t handle it anymore. The only thing Tilly knew to do was get up and go. Get out of there. Get away from everything. Cut the strings, build those walls, stay cold and stop fucking feeling.

  She slapped her hands on the floor and pushed herself up. Swaying, she continued to mumble and cry, ignoring an entire pack of Hell Hounds staring at her. She shoved past Valor and Bishop and staggered towards the door. Her eyes were already swelling with how hard she cried. Her throat hurt and she kept choking on her saliva between sobs and screams.

  She wanted to kill something. The one who murdered her. But wouldn’t that make her no better than a murderer too? She wasn’t a killer.

  You are now.

  She was a Hell Hound. Tilly knew she hadn’t killed those malanum in there and she now felt cheated. She only immobilized them in a brutal enough way to make them easier to toss back to Hell. They were victims of her savagery, but only temporarily. Given enough time, their wounds would heal and they’d be good as new. Or was that evil as new?

  Would the same be said for her? Given enough time, would she be able to get over the fact that she’d been murdered and buried in the woods? Maybe. Would she ever be able to get over the fact that she had been betrayed? Nope.

  Tilly thought she could handle this. Really. She joined forces with some amazing people and was doing the world a favor by keeping it protected. But who was she kidding? In the end, Tilly couldn’t even protect herself – hence why she got fucking shot in the goddamn head. At least Vivian died in a car crash… had she been murdered too, Tilly’s wrath would probably unlock a new level of disturbing.

  “Get her in the truck,” someone said.

  Tilly’s palms were clammy and when she yanked on the door handle, her hand slipped and she broke a nail. Fucker. At least she stopped crying so hard. Her sobs had weakened to sniffles. Badasses do not sniffle. She needed to try harder to be a Hell Hound.

  What if they kicked her out because she couldn’t deal? How did they deal with their deaths? How long did it take before they were over the shock and fury of it?

  Doors slammed shut and the engine roared to life. Sandwiched between two of her Hounds, Tilly didn’t even bother to see which ones were trying to console her with their touches. She couldn’t feel anything anyway.

  Focusing on the center console, she stared at it all the way home. While the pack talked quietly, Tilly continued to swallow down her pain and lock it up tight. If she kept thinking about her murderer, she’d likely go after the piece of shit and right now wasn’t the time for that. Revenge came later, right now she had bigger problems. A greater purpose.

  The truck stopped moving. The engine turned off. Someone nudged her over to the right while someone else held her hand so she could step out of the back of the truck. They went in through the front door. Tilly bit back a wail when she stood in the foyer. Even though the mess was cleaned up, she knew what happened there.

  No amount of reconstruction and bleach could repair the damage done to her. “I made a mistake,” she said to no one in particular. “I made such a big mistake.”

  Chapter 21

  “I’ve got her.” When shit hit the fan, you could be damned sure Drake would be the first to step up to the plate and take one for the team. Blame it on being one of Lucifer’s creations. Self-sacrifice was the Devil’s M.O. and Drake was no damned better.

  “Come on.” He didn’t touch her lower back, but kept his arm behind her as a brace in case she fell going up the steps. Tilly was so busted on the inside right now, the last thing Drake wanted was for her outsides to match if she fell down the flight of steps.

  “I made a mistake,” she said. “I made such a big mistake.”

  What did she mean by that? He was afraid to ask. If she was referring to her being in the pack and selling her soul to be with them, Drake wasn’t sure he had the heart to agree or disagree. Being a Hell Hound definitely had its perks, but it wasn’t an easy job. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  He didn’t know what else to do but move forward and stay logical. She was covered in malanum blood, snot and city smog. A shower was practical right now.

  Tilly’s lip quivered and more crying commenced.

  Fuck, Drake hated her tears. It made him feel all twisted up inside and his heart quivered like a fish on land gasping and struggling to survive. Tilly followed him into her bathroom. Drake turned on the lights and shut the two of them in. “Hang on, Goldilocks. Let me start the shower, then we’ll get you outta that shit.”

  He ran the shower and turned to see Tilly staring at her reflection. Those eyes. Those damn green eyes were haunted and hurting.

  The gun fire triggered her.

  Drake didn’t want to think about her murder. Not until she was ready to spill the story and give them permission to go after the bastard who killed her. Drake had a million ways to make a motherfucker hurt and wish for death. He wouldn’t grant that wish though. Ever. He’d make them suffer for decades, and when the asshole died and landed in Hell, Drake would open those gates, step into that prison, and hunt the motherfucker down just to do it all again.

  He wasn’t the only one in the pack who would take part in the fun. All the men were eager for the day they got to take turns ripping her murderer to shreds.

  But right now, they needed to focus on getting their woman in a better state of mind.

  “You did well tonight,” Drake stood behind her, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “Took four malanum down all by yourself. That’s a damn fine initiation night.” While he waited for a response, Drake began loosening the ties and straps on her corset. Tilly’s skin was no longer on fire. It was clammy.

  “Come on.” He turned her around, ignored her bare tits in his face, and bent down to untie her boots next. Once those were off, he worked on the fly of her pants and peeled those away too. She didn’t bother to help him with any of it. She just stood there and let him take care of her.

  Once he got her naked, Drake grabbed Tilly by the shoulders and steered her towards the shower. She stepped in by herself and he worried about her balance. “Use the wall as a brace, hang on a second.”

  Shit, he should have gotten naked first before undressing her. Now she was on her own in the shower and could slip without him there to keep her upright. Drake practically tore his clothes off, while keeping his eyes locked on her.

  Finally, he stepped into the shower with her. Tilly’s hand was against the tile, the water sprayed down her chest. Drake ignored his hard cock and wrapped an arm around her front, bringing her close to him. His dick pressed against her ass, his pecs pushed into her shoulder blades, and he inhaled the scent of her as it mixed with the steam.

  “Let it out,” he whispered to her. She needed to get the past out of her now so she could focus on her future. Their future.

  But Tilly was too exhausted to cry anymore. Maybe she didn’t have any tears left. Maybe she’d shrunk so deep into herself that she couldn’t even hear him. So he held her tight and stayed patient.

  Tilly leaned her head back to rest on his chest and she sighed. “I didn’t expect this,” she mumbled. “I thought I was stronger than this.”

  Was that the mistake she made? Was it that she believed in herself?

  “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” Drake felt like an idiot saying that. She deserved better but he wasn’t very good at the fluffy rah-rah cheerleading shit. Dr
ake said it like it was. “Look, you’re going through a lot. Your first life was all about spinning wheels and dead ends and being lonely. Then you got your head blown off. Then you sold your soul and became something else, and that something else takes a lot to get used to. You’re no longer human. You’re no longer living. You’re no longer dead. You’re all the things in-between packed with a punch granted by Satan himself. It takes a lot of courage and strength to be one of us and you’re doing it really fucking well.”

  “How did you do it?”

  Drake’s heart bashed into his rib cage. “Do what?”

  “Deal with your death and everything that led up to it.”

  He grabbed the shampoo and got busy washing her hair. “I didn’t. That’s why I didn’t have a soul when I died. I let my first life get the better of me, and when I became a Hell Hound, I did it for the wrong reasons. I just wanted a shot at getting revenge and I’m the shit that didn’t have a soul to barter with.”

  “So you used Baz’s.”

  He sure as fuck did. And even though Drake changed his mind at the last second, Lucifer didn’t think twice to agree to the two-for-one special he got that day with the twins. Sebastian didn’t even blink when he said, I go where you go, brother, always. This is how we’ll never be separated again.

  Drake’s heart never beat the same since that day. And right now it was kicking into overdrive remembering how it felt to go after the ones who killed them and take out the entire society who thought it was okay to sell children and use them till they died.

  “You’re much stronger than me,” Drake spoke in low tones. Massaging her scalp kept his hands from shaking too much, “I still can’t even say what they did to me out loud, I just write it down and burn it immediately afterwards. My shame controls me more than anything else. And Baz?” he breathed deep, “Him speaking out about it today was the first time he’s ever said those things to anyone, I think. Including me.”

  “You understand that you were both pinned against each other now?”

  “All the shit I’d gone through was for nothing,” he spun her around. “Tilt back.” She obeyed and he rinsed her hair out.

  “I wouldn’t say it was for nothing, Drake. It got you here. Would you rather be someplace else?” Her eyes stayed locked on his as the water ran down her head and back, washing away all the gore and soap.

  Would he rather be someplace else? “Hell no.”

  “Then everything you did and Baz did was worth it.” She closed her eyes and spun around again. “You did what you had to in order to save your brother and there’s no shame in that, Drake. The ones who did that terrible shit to you are the ones who should feel ashamed.”

  Those fuckheads didn’t feel anything because they were dead and if Drake was ever lucky enough to catch one of them turned malanum, he’d have a field day with the bastard before tossing it back to Hell again.

  “I didn’t think I wanted revenge so badly, but I do and I hate it.”

  Drake froze. “Nothing wrong with wanting a little payback.”

  “It doesn’t change anything.” She snatched the soap and put it in his hands. “Wash my back for me?”

  He wasn’t going to wash just her back. He was going to wash every inch of her sweet, curvy body. Drake ground his teeth and got busy with the soap and the loofah.

  “Will you do something else for me?”

  Anything. “What?”

  “Make love to me.”

  Drake dropped the soap. “I don’t make love, Goldilocks.” He fucked, hard and fast.

  “I want something from you no one else has had.”

  I’d give you my heart if I had one. “You don’t think I’ve ever made love before?”

  “Have you?”

  He could have lied and said yes. Instead, he doubled down on scrubbing her lower back. His hair was wet and in his face, all the better to hide his eyes.

  “Drake,” she whispered into the steam. “I’ll beg if I must. I need this from you.”

  “Why me?” His knees were going to buckle. “Baz would be better. Bishop, Val, any of them would be better than me.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me.” He couldn’t swallow the lump in his throat.

  She turned around and a challenge flared between them. “Then prove yourself wrong. Show yourself you have what it takes to let it go, to let everything fucking go.”

  “You don’t think I can do it?”

  “I know you can. You’re the one standing in your own way, Hound.”

  Was that true? Didn’t matter. The way she was looking, smelling, and the sound of her voice was already putting a spell on his sorry ass. If she needed something from him, he’d give it to her. No matter the cost. No matter what it meant in the end.

  Of all the things Drake had ever done, this moment was by far the scariest. Drake placed the soap back on the ledge. He tried to swallow again. For all the confidence he had on the field, he’d been reduced to a mouse standing before a beautiful lion right now. Making love wasn’t just an act. It was a fucking connection. It was deep and scarring. It came with things he never wanted to feel.

  He didn’t think he could survive it. Even now, Tilly’s piece of soul bloomed new little petals inside his much bigger, darker spirit that had somehow resurrected from the dead.

  “Drake,” she whispered, placing one hand on his pec and wrapping the other around his neck. “Please.”

  He took the leap. Made the move. Slanting his head, Drake pressed his mouth to hers gently. He made sure to keep the pace slow. He wanted to savor this moment, burn it into his brain forevermore.

  When she ran her nails down his back, Drake groaned and broke away from her for a moment. “You wanted soft and sweet.”

  “I never said that.” Tilly’s wicked grin lit his heart up like a Christmas tree. “I said I wanted you to make love to me. Only you will know how to do that.”

  He felt confused. Then he felt tricked. Then he didn’t even care. The train had left the station and he was taking her for a ride.

  Drake grabbed her by the hair and tilted her head back a little bit. He nipped her chin. She smiled. Her eyes were hooded and sultry and he wanted nothing more than to get inside her anyway possible.

  Drake dipped his hand between her thighs and plunged his middle finger into her pussy. “Damn,” he groaned, then he pulled his finger out and pressed it to her lips. She sucked his digit like it was his cock, then nipped his fingertip and smiled.

  She was plenty wet and ready and he’d barely touched her. Her Hell Hound side is in overdrive, he told himself. No way would Drake think she was this turned on for him.

  “I’ve thought about you,” she moaned when he kissed her neck. “Often.”

  “And what do you do when you think about me?”

  “Come,” she gasped when he plunged his finger into her again. “I come when I think about you, D.”

  She was going to come in a minute if he had anything to do about it. “How many times?” He hooked his finger and hit her g-spot, picking up the pace. Tilly lifted her leg and pressed her toes on the edge of the tiled bench to give him better access.

  Drake felt her body quiver and coil. She was going to explode soon. Fuck that. He wasn’t giving his hand the pleasure of her release. He wanted his whole body involved. With a growl, Drake maneuvered her so she was up against the wall. Positioning his cock to her opening, he slid into her with one smooth thrust and filled her. Then he hoisted her up higher and grabbed her ass.

  She gasped and smiled down at him. Fuck right he lifted her up so she was higher than him. In his eyes, there was no one higher than the woman in his arms right now.

  Drake kept a steady pace with his hips while he ate her alive with his gaze. They never broke eye contact and he got to see all the emotions and sensations through her expressions. Her mouth opened wider with each groan. Her pupils were blown wide open. Her cheeks turned rosy and it wasn’t from the hot water.

  “I’m close,” she
threaded her fingers through his wet, black hair and clung to him. “Oh my god, don’t stop.”

  Never. “I’ve got you,” Drake couldn’t seem to get deeper or close enough. Desperate to leave his mark, he didn’t have anything else to offer except—

  “I fucking love you, woman. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as I do you.” He continued to pump into her and rotated his hips to hit all the right spots. His toes curled when her inner walls clamped down on his cock as she came hard.

  Drake crushed his mouth to hers and ate her cries of pleasure. He swallowed them. Devoured them. Worshipped them. When he pulled back to give her air, she was heavy-lidded and smiling. Drake couldn’t help it, he smiled back.

  “There he is,” she purred and kissed him again. “There’s the man I’ve always seen hidden away.”

  Drake tensed. What the hell did that mean? He wanted to ask, but Tilly nodded towards the tiled bench. “Sit, Hound.” He swerved and sat down, still buried deep in her. Tilly looked around for a second and frowned. “I need something to hold me up, I want to ride you.”

  Drake’s smile grew wider. “Here,” he opened his arms wide and locked them in place. “Use me.”

  Tilly didn’t question it. She grabbed his forearms, planted her feet on either side of his hips and rode him like a goddamn mustang. He smacked the back of his head against the wall and lost his breath. Fuck the woman could ride.

  Keeping his arms stiff so she could rely on them for her balance, Drake lasted for as long as he could. “Stop. Bananas. Pineapples. The fuck is the word?”

  Tilly was mid-slam, her ass up in the air, her nails digging into his arms and she laughed. “Bananas is my word.”

  “It’s all our word now.” Her laugh made him laugh. “I gotta move you.” She didn’t ask why, she just let him carry her out of the shower. Then he slid out and turned her around to bend her sweet ass over the counter.

  He wanted to give her two more orgasms before claiming his own. He also wanted that mirror to showcase it. “Look at me.” Drake grabbed her by the throat and held her close to him while he slid into her from behind. He stared at her through their reflection. Tilly’s expression showed the ecstasy he put her in. Fuck if that look on her gorgeous face didn’t inject a drug into his veins. He was an addict for her and only her.