I nod as if satisfied. But I’m not satisfied, not by a long shot. My legs cross and clench as I try to ignore the throbbing need there.
I want Brexely between my thighs. It’s almost impossible to focus knowing how he feels inside me. How bone-meltingly satisfied I’d been, even if it was only for a brief time.
But I double down on my focus. Nothing is going to keep me from passing this class, graduating with my degree and protecting my low profile.
Chapter13
Issac Clout - Far Killer and Helpful Dude
BREXLEY
Iwant to ask Red about what she is studying. The question swells and ebbs over and over inside me, like waves lapping the shore.
But I know if I ignore the impulse, it will go away. That’s how I learned to live on my own. Cut off all ties, and simply ignore that gnawing hunger inside for companionship. Like any muscle, the urge atrophies over time.
I told Red I threatened those girls to get her favorite table, but the truth is I surreptitiously slid them a sizable amount of money and said they looked like they could use a lunch break and my girlfriend could really use this table. It’s part of what fueled my ridiculous idea to tell Red’s friends we are romantically involved.
If I turned my wolfish charm on those two girls, I likely wouldn’t have needed to pay them off. But while I didn’t go to college, I’m aware most students are just scraping by. I know how that feels firsthand.
Red’s gobsmacked expression morphed into pure delight, as her body relaxed like she’d been given instant relief. Her reaction hit me in the gut like a sledgehammer. I liked the feeling far too much and made a point to myself not to do anything to evoke it again.
Red insists she needs all the study time she can get. I know it’s partly a mechanism she is using to compartmentalize the fear she has for her grandmother, but the other part of her is possessed by something else. Ignoring the question at the tip of my tongue is harder to do when I can smell the panic and fear mounting the longer she sits.
Finally, I stand, telling her I need to stretch my legs. She waves me off without a second thought, so I walk out into the crisp, gray daylight.
The urge to shift and run, sprint through the city until I can’t think, grips me. I want to get lost in my animal side, instead of thinking about the redhead inside the coffee shop. I spin the ring on my forefinger more furiously than before.
My phone vibrates with an unknown number. I hit the button but say nothing as I put it to my ear.
“Is it done?”
Impatient old bastard.
I turn my back to the café, not that Red could hear. “No. There’s been a . . . complication.”
“Complication,” Jameson echoes, and I hear all his anger and impatience in the one word.
“Seems I’m not the only one after Grandma,” I explain. “She’s gone underground.”
“I don’t care. Get it done.”
My hackles rise. “Of course, I’ll get it done,” I snap.
“I waited twenty-five years, I’m tired of waiting.”
For a second I want to ask why. Why he wants Grandma dead. But no, that won’t make a difference. I’m bound to the marker and it will be done whether I know why or not.
“Not my fault you’re on the verge of death, old man,” I taunt. “Now get off my back and let me do this my way.” I end the call before he can respond. The cold bites at my cheeks and nose and I welcome it. It cools my fury and restores my logic.
Before I know it, I’ve walked a distance from the coffee shop into the midst of a campus field. On a sunnier day, the courtyard would be crawling with frisbee throwing idiots and study groups, but the clouds overhead threaten imminent rain or snow.
I’m still close enough to the café that I can keep an eye on Red, but I’ve gotten enough distance that I realize how much I’ve lost it. I’m here to kill that girl’s grandma and I can’t lose sight of that.
But she just texted her friends that I’m her boyfriend. I scrub my face with a hand, stopping to lean against the base of a statue. Why did I say such a thing?
It’s fucking ridiculous, that’s what it is.
I look up at the copper molded face of Issac Clout, the human conqueror of fae. His curly hair is etched in detail, and he holds up his sharp, fae-killing spear. Had he spotted me, he would be as ruthless with his weapon as I’ll be toward Red’s grandmother.
