“Did you kill him?” “Would you snitch if I did?” The rough timbre of his voice grazes my throat and slides south, vibrating every cell on the way down. I hadn’t realized he was so close. “Yes,” I breathe out, dizzy on gasoline and gunpowder. The dark shields me like armor, making me brave and reckless. “It didn’t happen in the dark.” His steady breaths grow ragged; I feel each like a shot of hot adrenaline in my veins. “And if it did?” I swallow thickly. “It didn’t happen.” A deep hum of approval touches my ear. “Good girl.”
