Page 9 of The Killer Card

“I can’t exactly do that while navigating these winding roads—”

“First time driving—”

“In the hills, yes!”

I sink back into my seat as they continue to bicker. Clara reaches for my hand, giving my fingers a tight squeeze. “You okay?” She asks quietly.

Forcing another smile, I nod. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

For a moment she looks like she might say something, but she lets the subject drop.

I turn my gaze out the window to the blurring of the trees and farmlands, wondering if he’s in every car that passes us by. Eventually I close my eyes, so I’ll stop counting them. So, I’ll stop thinking about the last time I saw him, about the bitter, biting words we both exchanged. Words that can’t be taken back or forgiven- shouldn’t be. They were all true. They needed to be said.

It meant nothing. None of it meant a damn thing. You were just a body all too willing to be used. You’re just too broken—

This is going to be a very long week.

✽✽✽

"Order for Micayla!”

I cross my arms as we settle into the line inside the little café in the center of town. It is literally so cute I could die. There are beautiful flowers decorating the entire doorway outside, every table donned with an umbrella and a little fake candle. Inside, the café has this old-world rustic charm brightened by flowers and eclectic collections of paintings and crystals and books Nelly is already perusing. There’s even a fucking puppy who has already stolen Clara’s entire focus, dragging her to her knees off to the side.

“Aren’t you just the cutest baby in the whole wide world!” She tells the puppy, smushing his face, pressing her nose to his. “I could just eat you up! Yes I could!”

“Clara,” I snap, maybe a little too sharply but I am severely lacking in good caffeine.

“What?” Her tone remains cute in the presence of the puppy, fingers scratching behind his floppy ears.

“Get off the floor.”

“I cannot,” she refuses, waving me off. “You know what Rowan and I like.”

“I certainly do not know what Rowan likes—”

“I know what Rowan likes,” Cristian sighs next to me. He shrugs when I glower at him. “Just let her pet the dog, Naomi. What’s the harm?”

“She’s on the goddamn floor—”

“So?” He raises a brow. With an undignified huff we take a step closer to the counter and my foot begins tapping against the wood floors. “What crawled up your ass this morning?”

“Probably a tick,” I mutter under my breath.

He tilts his head. “Not a completely impossible scenario.” I whip wide eyes toward him and he smirks. “But not what I mean.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t believe my ass or what goes in it is any of your business, Santos.”

“Nor do I ever want it to be.” He crosses his arms. “I’ll leave those particulars to one Mr. Graham Rosales, I think.” Very slowly, I turn narrowed eyes his way and he snorts. “You two have never been subtle. You used to fuck, didn’t you?”

Sucking at my teeth, I turn back to the line in front of us. “Not once.”

“No, I imagine it was several times.” My jaw pops. “But there was some kind of falling out and you haven’t seen him in a while and now you’re about to which makes you scared that either one,” he holds a finger. “All those feelings will come rushing back—”

“There are literally no feelings—”

“Or two,” he holds up a second finger as we take another step in the line. “That nothing will come back- at least for him- and that might actually be worse.”

How the fuck is Cristian Fucking Winchester-Santos able to hit the nail on the goddamn head so accurately when it comes to my relationship- no, it was not a relationship, is not a relationship- but was always so shit at seeing the problems in his own?! When he was with Nelly he was quite literally oblivious to anything and everything she wanted or needed. Yet, suddenly he’s able to spot issues in my relationship—