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I scoff. He just sucked the fun out of role playing. I should have known he wouldn’t let it go.
“You have the right to remain silent.”
“We both know that isn’t going to happen,” I murmur.
He walks to the bathroom, sets my feet on the floor, and hands me a washcloth.
“Anything you say can and will be used against you... If you continue to lie to me.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s not how the Miranda rights go.”
“Wipe the makeup off your neck. I can still see the bruises, so there’s no sense in hiding them from me. I know why you’re doing it.”
“I would ask you to not freak out, but there’s no point in wasting my breath.”
I reach for the makeup remover and close my eyes as I begin to wipe it away.
Kane is a little shorter than Riot, his bulk not quite as… bulky, but his presence grows impossibly large when he loses his temper. The spacious bathroom starts to feel too small to contain us both. The walls close around us; the pressure causing claustrophobia to set in. It’s never been a fear of mine; though I might rethink my stance later.
“Gem,” he mutters, tugging the cloth from my hand. “Who did this?”
“They look worse than they feel,” I admit. “They’ll be gone in a couple of weeks.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“No.”
He glances away, hurt flashing in his eyes. “I could help, and I don’t mean arresting whoever it was. I know some people who would be glad to step in.”
“As do I, in due time,” I reply. “I’ll leave the details out. I don’t want you implicated in first degree assault charges.”
“Your thug friends?”
“Guess all you want. I’m not going to tell you.”
“But you’ll let me know when it’s taken care of…” He trails off, frustration pulling his brows down.
Kane analyzes me again, counting and mentally measuring the distance between the bruises. His eyes flicker back and forth, then his shoulders hunch slightly, but not because he’s given up on the subject.
“Male. 5’11. One-sixty to one-seventy.”
I nod. “Blue hair, blonde eyes. Stole a family heirloom from gnarly pirates in the bay. But he wasn’t a permanent Thursday, so I don’t feel bad about making him walk the plank. Terrible lay too; he could really use some pointers. Or like... A diagram that shows him what a clit looks like and where it is, because he was not keen on taking instructions from me.”
He snorts. “Blonde eyes? He a werewolf?”
“Nerd.”
“Says the woman who had two economics tutors.”
“I couldn’t pay off Dr. Good Guy,” I half-heartedly defend. “My grades got lower when I tried, so then I had to—”
Kane makes a surprised expression. “Actually learn? Oh, my. The hardship of not having your bribes accepted.”
“I could have probably slept with him, but that hardly seemed fair,” I tease, taking my sweater off as I walk backward into the bedroom. “I hear he still teaches night classes on Thursdays, so maybe I’ll give him a call.”
“Gem,” he growls in disgust.
“Kidding,” I sing. “Mostly. He’s an attractive older gentleman.”
