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“Show me where I asked for your help, Boyd.” Her hand drops. “I’m not some helpless princess incapable of taking care of herself.”
Princess. My tongue rolls the word around silently, fitting itself into the syllables and loving the way it feels. Far more natural and neutral than Fi, and a hell of a lot more truthful.
She might not see herself as a princess, but the rest of King’s Trace certainly does—a fallen one, at least. Her family lives in an isolated mansion with their demons, ruling things from behind the curtain of their wealth and prestige, untouchable because of the number of criminals they have dirt on.
“I’m not really understanding all the animosity I’m getting from you right now,” I say. “A simple thank you would suffice.”
Smiling sweetly, she shoves at my chest, catching me off guard as her anger seems to expand, a wildfire spreading without an end in sight. “How about a nice big fuck you, instead? That work?”
Moving past me, she rips the mask out from under my arm and heads back for the front of the building, the sway of her hips mesmerizing as I keep my distance, trying not to bite the bait she’s throwing in my face, clearly aware of how her fire singes me in all the important places.
It’s a long time before I think about the messages on my phone, unread pleas for my presence, too wrapped up in a game I’ve only just begun to think about the other people who need me.
