Page 102 of The Monster and the Masochist

“Must have slipped my mind,” she gritted out.

Vox just stared at her, looking mildly amused.

I sighed, shaking my head.

“Whatever. Just ignore him, I guess. Anyway, back to the dress. You sure you don’t want to try it on while we’re here? I think it would look amazing on you.”

Both Vox and Naomi glanced over at the mannequin I was referencing, and the energy in the room somehow got even more awkward.

“I’m sure,” Naomi said quietly. Her face was beet red now, and she was staring at the drink she still had clutched in her lap.

Vox was frowning at the dress, his molten eyes flicking from the mannequin to the now tense and clearly irritated Naomi.

To my surprise, he slid closer to her. Reaching out to curl a finger under her chin, he turned her head to face him.

She allowed him to do it, which surprised me. She was usually pretty snarky when it came to Vox… But again.

She’d been off since the kidnapping.

I frowned, feeling like I was intruding on something extremely intimate as they stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

He raised a dark eyebrow at her, then tilted his head toward the dress, stroking a thumb softly across her jaw.

“No. I don’t want to,” Naomi whispered, and Vox looked… sad?

His expression seemed to almost break, and his lips pursed into a tight line at Naomi’s response.

I’d never seen him look anything other than amused or annoyed before.

This whole situation was weird.

Also… I wasn’t super sure how I felt about him touching my little sister like that. She was only nineteen, and he was… well, we were pretty sure he was almost thirty. He didn’t speak and refused to even write notes or learn to sign. So, none of us knew much about him.

Even his texts were usually just emojis, and he only responded if he felt it was necessary… which wasn’t often.

“Alright, enough,” I snapped. “Get your hand off my sister.”

Vox slowly turned his head to face me. The sadness faded from his face, replaced by a snarky look of contempt.

The corner of his mouth kicked up, and instead of taking his hand away from Naomi, he slowly and deliberately stroked her jaw again, as if daring me to tell him he couldn’t.

My blood began to boil, and I was about to tell him exactly what I would do to him if he didn’t get his hand off my fucking sister, but Naomi beat me to it.

“Vox. Stop,” she ordered softly, and immediately his hand fell away.

He even slid back to the other side of the couch, giving her ample space.

My gaze darted back and forth between them, and I felt my brow furrow in confusion.

‘I smell violence,’ my demon purred, stretching lazily in its cage. ‘The vampire reeks of it. Bet you he would let me kill someone.’

‘Quiet.’

“What’s going on between you two?” I asked.

Vox smirked, and Naomi shrugged.

“Nothing. He’s just been… around a lot lately.”