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Kaiden grits his teeth but I don’t hold back.
“I have a name,” I snap. “Kaiden didn’t introduce me as the doe, and if you’re such good friends, you shouldn’t disrespect meorhim by calling me that.”
The Pres tips his head back and roars his laughter into the night sky, startling some birds in a nearby tree. He laughs long and hard, which only increases my annoyance, until eventually wiping tears from his eyes and looking at me appraisingly.
This time his gaze is appreciative, not dismissive.
He nods.
“Oh yes, I see why you guys chose her now. She’ll run all three towns in no time at all. My apologies,Odile, it’s lovely to meet you.” He holds out his hand for me to shake. I hesitate a fraction of a second before sliding my palm into his, but instead of shaking it, he flips our entwined fingers so that my hand is on top, and kisses the back of it, bowing low to do so.
Jeez, what’s with the Disney prince behaviour tonight? First Kaiden and now this guy.
It’s not even sleazy like you’d expect. It’s a smooth move, and if it wasn’t coming from a scary-as-fuck, dangerous motherfucker, it might make my pulse flutter. Up close, he smells like shaving soap and spiced rum. My stomach flips, but I tell myself it’s just from hunger.
Yeah but hunger for what, Odi?
“Did you bring the things I asked for?” Kaiden asks. The Pres turns to him, but doesn’t release my hand.
“Yep, all set up for you inside. Even got you the good stuff from my own personal collection. None of the shit they serve at the clubhouse.”
Kaiden grimaces. “Just some food and access to a bed was more than enough.”
“Figured if you were desperate enough to lay low in Gods’ territory, the occasion called for a drink.”
“You’re probably right. Shall we?”
“Allow me to show you around,” Saint replies with a chuckle.
Still holding on to my hand, he leads me through a rusted garden gate which squeals on antique hinges and along an overgrown gravel path. There’s weeds sprouting up along the edges of the path, and thegardenis completely overrun and wild with thorny bushes.
“Don’t mind the front yard. My gardener is taking a leave of absence, and things have gotten a little crazy with his absenteeism.”
“He must have been gone a while,” I murmur, looking at the chaos as Saint half leads, half drags me to the dilapidated front door.
“Oh, yeah. He has. He’ll be gone a long time too.”
The way Saint says that makes me think that his gardener might have been forced to take apermanentvacation. At the bottom of the ocean somewhere. I shiver.
Why does that bother me when I know what my Holy Trinity get up to in their spare time?
Why can’t I objectively look at them through the same eyes with which I see, and fear, Saint.
“Ah, here you go. Home sweet home.”
Saint opens the sun-bleached wooden door with only remnants of red peeling paint, and I wince at the hinges squealing in protest through the quiet night.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when Kaiden said he had somewhere we could stay. Obviously, not the Ritz, but not…a shack either.
And this place is the absolute definition of a shack in my mind.
The lights are already on, and as Saint steps inside, the wooden floorboards creak under his weight. Outside, the wind rattles the single-pane windows. There’s a tiny, threadbare rug laid before a fireplace with only ashes and dust in the grate.We’re lucky it’s not freezing tonight, even though I’m shaking like it is.
An overstuffed chintz sofa faces the empty grate and to the left is a lone kitchen cupboard with a camping stove atop of it and a tiny tin basin and jug besides. In the corner of the room, overlooking the overgrown front garden is a small square pine kitchen table and three mismatched rickety chairs. On top of the table are three square takeout boxes of pizza, their delicious aroma not quite masking the scent of dust and neglect in the air.
The two wooden doors presumably lead to a bedroom and – I hope – a bathroom of some sorts. Who knows though, if there isn’t even a kitchen sink with taps. God, I hope this place has running water.
Not that it will kill me to spend one night here if it doesn’t. It’s definitely better than the alternative. But right now, a hot shower to mask today’s fresh stress sounds just about perfect.
