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“You know, sometimes people aren’t always what they seem. Take Ransom for example. He looks like a true badass, big enough to wrestle a grizzly bear and win and mean enough to blend whole steaks into his protein shakes in the morning because he couldn’t be bothered with the raw eggs, but he’s just a big softie. Despite the scars and the crags and the cicatrices, his bluster and that deep growly voice he likes to use, he’s sweet like chocolate on the inside.”
I lower my head, but I’m not fast enough to stifle a giggle.
“And take me, for instance. I might appear like a meathead at the first meeting, but soon enough, it’s apparent that I’m a knight in shining black. And I have nuts of steel.”
That does it. The last of my reserve crumbles, and I start laughing so hard that my stomach hurts, and tears form in the corners of my eyes. When I can finally unfold enough to look at Alden, he’s laughing too, and his beauty is definitely not subtle. It’s so in your face that it makes my pulse accelerate dangerously. He’d probably look deadly cool even if he got stuck driving a granny mobile every single day for the rest of his life. You know, those big cars with the plush seats and soft suspension, sans rims or tinted windows or aftermarket stereos. In fact, granny mobile sales would probably skyrocket just because he started a new trend.
“I’m sorry about that. That was a low blow.”
“So was tricking you into saving me. I’m sorry about that too. Honestly, when you live by yourself, with my granny, or with my brothers for long enough, you get used to the pranks and foul humor, but I shouldn’t have done that with you. It wasn’t funny, and neither was kidnapping you. I am sorry. I know Granny wanted me to use this time to try and get you to believe me and like me, and I guess that’s what I’m doing, but I really honestly am….”
He trails off, a funny expression that alarms me appearing on his face.
“You really are what?” I prod.
No answer. Alden’s face looks strange. He looks…Oh god, he looks woozy. His eyes are doing strange fluttering things, his lips are gaping open, and then suddenly, he lets out a snort, his eyes roll back, and his whole body jerks forward. His head hits the table with a thump as he sprawls out across his plate with his cheek pressed to the table, his mouth open at a funny angle, already emitting soft snore noises.
Oh my god, did that seriously work? Holy shit, no wonder they say to take them whole. Talk about a time-release thing gone wrong.
I wait, eyeing Alden wearily and suspiciously. I was determined to test my bounds. If only to prove a point. I’m going to get to the front door, and I’m going to walk out of it. I’m going to take my ass down the sidewalk, even if that’s as far as I get before Scarlet’s men stop me from truly leaving. At least I’ll have had my payback. Kind of. Sort of? Anyway, I’m going to come back. I’m not actually going to leave. Is it really so wrong?
Why is my heart thundering like an angry storm? Why are my emotions tangled up like an even angrier storm?
Why is this not as thrilling as I thought it would be?
Whatevs, he’s down and out. Better make your escape now.
Do I even want to?
Want isn’t really an issue right now. Give ‘er snot.
I don’t know which of my inner voices I should listen to or if it’s just one having a battle with itself, namely my conscience. I shove back from the table, snatch the last pickle from my plate, and take it for the road.
I make it as far as the front door—my hand reaches out for the knob, the other curls around the sweating, juicy pickle, and my heartbeat echoes furiously in my ears—when I hear thunderous steps behind me and realize that I’ve been duped. Again.
CHAPTER 10
Alden
To say that Azalea is in a rage when I catch up to her at the door is an understatement of the entire history of the world. She’s livid, a stain as dark as the red wine we just consumed creeping from her neck and blooming in her cheeks. Her eyes are dark sapphires, so intense that they could shoot lightning bolts at me. I’m sure she’d be pleased to watch me incinerate into a crispy pile of ash where I stand.
“You…you…you…just you!” she seethes, pointing a deadly finger in my face. Her shoulders and chest heave with her raging breaths. “You tricked me again!”
“And you put sleeping pills into my drink. I can’t say it didn’t make my head feel heavy because it did, but it would take a heck of a lot more than that to put me down for the count. How many pills did you put in? Just the recommended dose?”
