“And bynormal,you mean darts, beer, and girls in crop tops making eyes to get free drinks?”
“Yes,” he snorted. “Well, that and cheeseburgers as big as your face.”
“Yum!” My stomach rolled, realizing the only thing I’d eaten today was the lemon bar from this morning. “That actually sounds amazing.”
“You have a weird relationship with food,” he tried to joke, but it fell flat. “Sorry, I… I’m a privileged asshole who is obviously not very good at this.”
Finn reclined against the counter, burning holes into the floor.
“You’re fine,” I mumbled, letting it go, gulping air through my nose when I pointed at the door.
“It’s not fine, Daphne. Don’t let it be.”
I knew what he was trying to do, but he had very little footing to do it. If Wolfe had said this, my body would have gone cold in thought, but from Finn, it sounded evangelistic. That, and he did not matter enough to hurt me. At least not yet.
“If I call you a dick, can we go?” I laughed, second-guessing whether this was a good idea. I had to work alongside this man, and if it got any more awkward than it already was, the next couple of weeks would be hell.
“Yeah,” Finn pulled on his fitted shirt, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I guess that would work.”
“Fine. Finn, you are a dick,” I said clearly, so the kitchen knew I meant business. “And not a big one.” I smiled, watchinghis expression ease into its regular shade of playful. “A weensy, little, super fucking tiny… dick.”
“Got it,” he bit through a smirk, glancing down between his legs in a flash of hesitation.
“In fact,” I smiled, “you are so small we now have to call you a penis.”
“Alright, you’re done,” he laughed, shadowing me as I pushed through the door. “Did your architect teach you that, too? How to land a solid blow.”
I snorted, arching a brow.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Of course,” I grinned into the night air. “He taught me everything I know.”
Finn might not have meant it that way, but I did.
twenty
Threx: Gregorian Chant
“I fucking hate clearouts,” Jessie murmured, the wool mask catching in his mouth. “Why aren’t level twos stuck with this bullshit?”
“Because we’re already on Marianne’s shit list, and she asked for us,” Wolfe explained from the back seat, his face barely visible beneath the cracked dome light. “Plus, I want to see how squirmy these motherfuckers are. Rinley’s been with them lately, and I don’t like the smell.”
“And we’re just what?” Blade laughed. “Going to make him clean up his new friends?”
“Exactly,” Wolfe said, staring into nothing.
“Why would her men work with Cross?” Nathem asked. “I mean, the guy’s green as hell.”
Yes. Tyrian’s nephew, Shade, was a different breed from his uncle, and that only meant chaos. We all knew he had it out for Marianne, but I had a sneaky suspicion he was coming for all of us. Maybe not tomorrow, but Shade was inevitable.
“Marianne inspires about as much loyalty as Karsten,” Wolfe said, tossing a piece of wintermint gum into his mouth andchewing until it popped. “Honestly, those two should just fuck. But it doesn’t matter. We don’t offer traitors amnesty.”
I stayed quiet, replaying the conversation with Daphne until it bled down the back of my throat. The way she went silent after I told her she was mine didn’t feel the way I thought it would. Not that she should trust it. I’ve spent our entire lives pushing her away from the kind of intimacy I could never come back from. Still, the way she just sat there and said nothing made it feel too real. I told her to choose Maine, but even then, I didn’t believe it. Ever since I uttered those words, the only thing I’ve been waiting for is… her.
“Hear from Daph?” Nathem asked, trying to cut the tension.
None of us liked kill jobs, even if the assholes were traitors. Not because of the moral implications, and believe me, I know how fucked up that is. But we’ve done this too long to let it ruin our appetite or mess with our sleep. No, it was the pacing. The chaos. How unclean it felt. The image of a man who’d been eating half a sandwich, now dead at the table.
