Page 105 of How to Kill Your Rival

‘Mmm.’ She doesn’t move. ‘Very smooth.’

Eliza grabs my hand and feeds it into her hair until I stroke it.

The smile that crosses her face is the one I’ve only seen her give to me. Tender but still filled with those bratty undertones.

She tips her face up, and I bring mine down until our mouths meet in a tentative exchange of tongues. The realisation comes that there’s no need to hide any more. That I can kiss her anywhere. Everywhere.

A breeze swings through the window shortly before Coffin follows it, landing at the end of the bed.

We both freeze.

Coffin lands on the footboard and looks at us with his one good eye. There’s something glistening in his beak.

I stare at it, and it stares right back at me. With horrible, dawning clarity, I realise it’s a motherfucking eyeball.

‘Coffin…’ Eliza says slowly.

Coffin hops along the footboard like he’s presenting his goods.

‘Oh no.’

He drops it on the bed, the gory ball rolling along the duvet towards us.

I react with speed, Eliza tipping from my lap. I flick the eyeball sideways with the back of my hand before my brain has fully caught up with what I’m doing, and it lands right between Eliza’s tits.

She shrieks and bats it back. The eyeball lands in my lap, and I get up, my dick swinging in the wind as I toss it from the bed.

‘James!’

‘It came at me…’

‘You threw it at me.’

‘I didn’t. I just flicked it.’

‘Right on my fucking tits.’

We both look at the floor where it sits, and it stares up at us.

Coffin appears furious. If a crow can do so. I think from the way that beady eye fixes on us that Coffin certainly can. He’d brought his favourite treat, and we’d shunned it. To a crow, it was probably as rude as fuck.

He hops off the footboard and lands on the floor next to the eye. Caws at us, and then gobbles the eye down. Two bites. Or gobbles? And it’s gone. He wipes his beak on the rug before stamping his feet.

‘Whose eyeball was that?’

Eliza breaks into a fit of giggles, her cheeks pink and her hair wild.

‘If I had to guess, I’d say that’s Jacob Everett’s.’

‘Your father’s been busy,’ I say.

‘He said he’d deal with the traitor before the end of the day,’ Eliza says.

‘The man has cancer, and he still⁠—’

‘He’s Evan Hamilton,’ Eliza says. ‘The cancer’s got more to worry about than he has.’ Then she turns back to Coffin. ‘You’re a menace, and it’s a good thing I love your feathered arse. But if you bring another one in here, I’ll cut off your supply.’

Coffin appears unmoved by the threat. He hops back onto the footboard and begins grooming himself.