When Dean glances toward the door, a long scar beneath his jaw comes into view, crawling from his ear to his chin. How did I miss this before?
“The first man I killed decorated me like this, while threatening to cut my face off,” he says, catching me studying his scar. “I was twelve when that happened.”
Fuck! That’s dark. I do feel sorry for him, but I can’t let pity crack my surface. People like us hate being pitied. We are a different breed, and I know how to treat my own.
“As I said, not all deserve to live.”
He smiles like that was the correct answer, and his eyes settle on mine.
“They’re waiting for you,” I remind him when his gaze lingers on me for longer than one would be comfortable with.
Dean takes two steps back, head slightly tilted to one side, raking me from head to toe, like he’s not trying to decipher my secrets, but outright decode my DNA.
“Serial killer in the making,” he mutters under his breath, then heads for the door.
Is that what he thinks I am? Do I give the impression of being that much of a psycho? Is Dean onto me? Or is this his twisted version of a welcome? Either way, I do hope Trent gave me deep enough of a cover, so even if the guys smell the putrid, they won’t find the bodies, no matter how hard they dig.
Chapter 37
Atlas
Two and a half months later
The contents of Summer’s present are getting harder to conceal by the minute as she tests my patience to the limit while I wait for her to get downstairs. We haven’t talked about pets, but I’ve seen her with dogs, and underneath that warrior facade lies a gentle soul that melts for anything fluffy. They say getting a pet with your significant other is a prelude to kids. I’m ready to skip that part, but I couldn’t put a child in a Christmas box, could I? The kids’ topic will be a conversation for another day—one Summer isn’t ready for, when she’s still unable to give me all her secrets. But she gives me everything else I breathe for.
The phone starts pinging, and I take a peek at the group chat, assuming the guys are rushing us to get to the new place that we got with the profits of Summer’s tax deductions idea and the one about the non-profit organization for young artists. Instead, it’s Carter and Connor bickering again. At least they are no longer at odds with each other. It took Summer a single conversation to mend the damage between them, and they both lost interest in the girl they were chasingafter. It was never about her in the first place. I think that’s part of the reason Carter started calling her “sis,” and he’s so protective of her. Or it might be his empathy for the loss of her own twin.
“That’s a big box,” Summer chimes in from behind me.
“Took you long enough to come downstairs.” I take in her gorgeous red satin knee-length dress with a thigh-high slit, and I’m ready to eat my own words. I’d wait an eternity for this sight.
“It’s too big to be a bomb and too small to fit a stripper inside.” Summer points at the box and smirks. “Unless it’s a tiny stripper. Did you get me a tiny stripper, honey?” She scrunches her cute little nose.
“Open it.” I gesture for the box, and it stirs at that exact moment.
“Fuck! I was joking. You didn’t get me a pint-sized stripper for real, did you?”
“For fuck’s sake, open it!”
Summer gets on the ground, sitting on her legs, while tugging the festive ribbon. A second later, the head of the black Newfoundland puppy pops up.
The loud shriek my girlfriend lets out is one no banshee can either emit or exceed. I don’t know if it’s the dog or me that gets more startled.
She shoots to her feet, jumping up and down, and I can’t decide whether to focus on her mesmerizing smile or bouncing tits. Both are in her arsenal of weapons, capable of hypnotizing me.
“Oh my God!” Summer shrieks again. “That’s the best gift ever.” She pulls the puppy into her arms, peppering kisses on its furry head. “I’ve always wanted a dog. I love you so much!”
I’m rooted to the spot, trying to process if I heard her correctly. She’s never said the words out loud until now.
Seeing my dumbfounded expression, she smirks.
“I was talking to the dog.”
“Oh!”
Now I’m jealous of a fuckin’ dog.
Summer leans to leave the puppy on the ground and approachesme, before snaking her arms around my shoulders.
