Page 935 of Lessons in Cruelty

“Yeah. Christmas,” Kai snaps, receiving a side-eye from Rooke.

“If you’ve got nothing nice to say—” Rooke’s voice trails off.

Kai rolls his eyes as he drops down onto the leather couch. He lifts a lacquered box from the coffee table and flips it open, taking out a dime bag of weed.

“Really?” I scoff sourly.

He doesn’t even bother looking at me. “Looks like you left your badge at home, officer. Or is this a citizen’s arrest?”

Says the guy who just confessed to multiple murders.

I realize my hands are tightened into fists, and force them open. Force them to relax more than I should.

For all I know, scantily-clad Haven went to the kitchen to fetch a knife. Or a gun. Or some more of those goddamn cable ties Rooke tied me up with in his basement. For all I know, this is their gift to each other.

Taking care of their last loose end before the New Year.

“Have a seat,” Rooke says, turning the chair so it faces the center of the sofa before taking his place beside Kai.

Not angled toward the fire. Not toward the windows.

Toward them.

I could keep standing there like a chump, but it was a long fucking drive. Best to conserve my strength if these three decide to continue their killing spree.

“What did you get under your Christmas tree this morning, Fox?” Rooke asks.

I scoff. “I haven’t celebrated for years.”

He nods. “Didn’t take you for a man of faith.”

“Christmas has got nothing to do with religion,” Kai mutters. “It’s just an excuse for us to buy shit.”

This time Rooke’s eyes are much harder when he looks over at Kai. “What’s with the attitude, boy?”

The hairs on my nape rise at the tone in Rooke’s voice.

Kai doesn’t look up from where he’s rolling a joint. “You knew he was coming. Could have given us a heads-up.”

Rooke’s smile is instant, and completely eradicates the stern look from his face. “Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, would it?”

Kai briefly glances up at him with slitted eyes. “You know I hate surprises.”

I hear the clink of ice cubes against a glass before Haven re-enters the living area on sock-clad feet. She keeps her eyes downcast, almost demure, as she comes over to me. But the moment her back is turned to Rooke and Kai, her eyes flash wide, staring at me with unveiled ferocity.

“Here,” she says, the calmness in her voice a stark contrast to the fire in her eyes.

“You didn’t know I was coming either, did you?”

She gives her head a small shake. “I’d have dressed more appropriately.”

Despite her words, she’s not covering herself up anymore—she stands there defiantly, as if daring me to look at her body.

I take her up on the offer, if only to call her bluff.

She’s just as disheveled-looking as Rooke and Kai, perhaps even more so. Her hair is mussed, her shirt wrinkled, and there’s a red chafe mark on her neck⁠—

My gaze darts to the belt lying coiled on the floor by the sofa.