“I want you to do something for me, Grey,” she says, looking up at me. “What?” She leans over, pulls something from a drawer within her bedside table, and walks over to me. What she puts in my hand surprises me. It’s my gun. Briar sits on the bed. Her fingers trace the black metal, almost lovingly. If she wants me to kill her, she’s chosen the wrong person for the job. Even with my mask on, I couldn’t do it. I hate to admit it, but I actually like having her around. “I want you to fuck me with it,” she says. I rip off the mask. “Excuse me?” “I want you to put the barrel inside me.” “There are
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