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“Yes, I’m basically a matchmaker. So it would be in your best interest to let me sit with your princess. That way I can talk you up, and not at all mention things like—”
“Don’t!” Gray thunders. “Don’t fucking test me, Cain.”
Where I flinch, Cain smiles widely. “It’s what I do best, Gray.”
A heavy silence falls across Dante’s office, and I’m just about to relent and agree to stay up here, when Gray speaks again.
“Fine,” he sighs heavily. “But I don’t like it.”
Rocco and Cain leave quickly, both mumbling something about preparing and having better things to do. In other words, they know we need a moment alone.
“You’re going to torture him for answers?” I don’t know why it comes out as a question since I meant it as a statement.
“Yes,” Gray rasps, taking a step until we’re flush against each other.
“To find out why the Reapers want me?” I ask, and this time it’s meant as a question.
“Yes,” he answers again.
Tilting my head back, I look into his dark eyes. I raise my hand, pushing some of his messy waves away from his forehead.
“I know you’re not going to tickle the answers out of him,” I say dryly. “I can handle it, Gray. And I won’t think less of you.”
He swallows thickly, and I watch mesmerized as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “How can you be sure?” he rasps.
Even though I probably shouldn’t, I like this insecure side of him. I like that it’s because he’s scared of losing me.
“Because,” I say, stretching until I can reach his jaw with my lips.
The whiskers on his face prick me in the most delicious way, one that threatens to distract me from what I want to say.
“Because I’m yours. Nothing is going to change that, Gray. So give him hell.”
I wish I could explain the darkness that’s awoken inside me, but I don’t know the words to use since I don’t understand it myself.
All I know is that I no longer care about right or wrong. I care about revenge. Revenge for Sasha, a woman that never did any-fucking-thing wrong. A beautiful soul, snuffed out in such a gruesome way.
Before Gray can answer, Cain returns, carrying two bags of popcorn. “I’m ready,” he announces excitedly. “Here, this is for you.”
I take the bag he’s holding toward me. “Umm… thank you?”
While we walk over to the elevator, he explains, “Since we’re about to go for a show, it only makes sense to have some snacks. Normally, I’d take you for dinner as well, but I’m not sure your stomach can handle it.”
As soon as the elevator arrives, all three of us get on it.
“Besides,” he continues as we descend. “I don’t think Gray would like me taking his girl for dinner. According to the opinion of the internet, it violates something called the bro code.”
Gray grunts. “I’m sure your wife wouldn’t like it either.”
The elevator dings, and as the doors slide open, he gets out first. I take Gray’s hand, intertwining our fingers as I follow the two men through the maze-like corridors. Jesus, it’s a good thing I’m no longer wanting to run away because if I found my way down here, I’d get lost for sure.
“Oh, fo’ sho’,” Cain says, nodding as he beats his chest with a fist. “My wife shizzle wouldn’t… wouldn’t… man, rhyming is fucking hard,” he whines.
Ignoring him, I whisper, “Will it offend Cain if I don’t eat the popcorn?” I shake the bag in my hand for emphasis.
Gray chuckles, and it’s nice to hear the genuine sound of amusement coming from him. “Nah. He’ll steal the bag from you within minutes, anyway. Fucker is weird about his food.”
About his food… sure, because he’ssonormal about anything else. Insert eye roll.
