“Never mind,” the stranger said, waving a dismissive hand that managed to look theatrical.
He pulled Kota from Walker, linking their arms and leading him deeper into the bar. Kota looked desperately over his shoulder for Walker, who followed behind, looking both exasperated and amused.
Walker wouldn’t let anything happen to him. The realization came so naturally now that it barely registered.
“I’m Tris,” the supermodel said, leading him to a circular booth in the very back.
“I’m—”
“Kota, right?” Tris finished. “We’ve heard so much about you. Has Walker told you anything about us? About the game? About?—”
“Mouse,” a sultry voice interrupted. “How about you take a breath and let him speak?”
Kota’s gaze landed on a man as he slid into the booth from somewhere in the shadows. He had an otherworldly appearance to him.
Kota looked between them in confusion. “I thought you guys were contract killers. Why does everyone look like a movie star?”
The guy in the booth wore a blazer over a t-shirt, his hair curling perfectly over his forehead. He chuckled at Kota’s—astute—observation.
It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Walker looked like a rugged action hero. Tris looked like a model. This guy looked like he’d been cast as the dangerously attractive villain in a CW show.
“Crazy, right?” Tris said, dropping into the booth. “He looks like a TV vampire, doesn’t he?”
Kota nodded, letting Tris drag him down then tug him deeper into the booth.
“This is my husband, Cade,” Tris said. “Cade, this is Kota. Isn’t he darling?”
“Mm,” Cade said, assessing Kota over the rim of his highball glass.
It wasn’t intimidating, exactly. It felt more like being evaluated by a very expensive predator.
Walker appeared then, taking a seat beside Kota. He melted against his much larger frame, relaxing as soon as Walker draped his arm over his shoulders. Immediately better. Walker might be a murderer, but at least he was a familiar murderer. He washismurderer.
Kota fought back a laugh at the absurd notion. He fidgeted, looking down at his jeans and black button-down shirt. He felt wildly underdressed for a darkened bar in the middle of a ghost town even though Walker wore jeans, a t-shirt, a flannel, and beat-up work boots.
“Aww,” Tris cooed. “Look at him. He’s so cute. Tiny. Look at his big eyes. He looks like a?—”
“Mouse, hecanhear you,” Cade reminded, a smirk playing at his full lips. He looked at Kota. “My husband means well, but he has no filter. None. He’s never met an intrusive thought he didn’t voice. Brace yourself.”
Tris pulled the lollypop from between his lips with a lewd pop, then stuck his tongue out at his husband. It was the same blue as his lollypop. Kota wasn’t entirely convinced the blue tongue wasn’t permanent since it fit the other guy.
Tris pulled another lollypop from his pocket, offering it to him. “It’s cherry. Consider it a peace offering.” He side-eyed his husband, sarcasm leaching into his voice as he added, “Since I’ll probably say something wildly offensive.”
Kota looked at Walker, who shrugged. That wasn’t remotely reassuring. Was it weird that he wanted Walker to just tell him what to do in this foreign situation? He sighed internally, takingthe candy and unwrapping it, then popping it in his mouth. The tart taste was far better than he expected, hitting the pleasure centers of his brain like a sour bomb.
“Oh, it’s good,” Kota said, followed by, “You can’t offend me, by the way. I prefer when people just say what they’re thinking. Most people are fake as fuck.”
Walker made a noise beside him that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Tris’s eyes lit up, eerie in the reddish purple of the bar lights, a bright smile splitting his beautiful face. “Right? That’s how I feel, too. I’d rather people just say what they’re thinking.”
Kota smiled with relief. He really liked Tris.
“You drive?” Cade asked Walker.
Walker shook his head. “Nah, you know what a bitch it is trying to park my rig in this dinky ass parking lot.”
Cade gave a single nod, then looked in the direction of the bar, gesturing to the large bald man behind the counter.
