He expected the slumping, and that told him that whoever she was, she either knew who he was or was just scared of Matteo shooting a gun close to her body.
"You know her?" Matteo was now pulling closer to him, his gun at his sides.
Zayne shot him a look. "How the hell should I know her? Like we just fucking saw her here!"
"Calm down; I thought it was one of the girls you knew, Devil."
He shook his head and turned back to the body. He bent down to her, the torch on her face, the tip of his fingers trailing from her cheeks to her chin. Even out in the cold, she still sweated profusely.
Her auburn hair looked scattered, and there was blood matted to one side of her head, scratches on her face, and trails of blood on her pretty pink lips.
He swallowed, his eyes trailing down her neck.
She was beautiful—not more beautiful than the women he had been with, but there was something about her.
"Dude, this place is fucking hot; what the hell are you doing there watching her face?!" Matteo pulled
