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I text Hunter. Don’t come. I’m going full-time.
He leaves me on read.
Ass.
After dinner, Lilah stops me from following into her nest. “Not happening. I have work, and then I’m going to sleep. Don’t let me catch you sneaking in again.”
“Okay.” You won’t catch me.
She shuts the door in my face, and when the lock clicks, the giddy high that’s been carrying me cuts like a fucking guillotine.
Color gone.
Purpose lost.
Habit has me checking in with the mofos who used to live in my chest, but the bond that pretended to be my conscience is all ripped out.
I stand at Lilah’s door, sucking her candy sweet scent and waiting for her to fall asleep so I can sneak between her sheets.
She can shoot me, stab me, bite me.
It’ll all be good if it’s Lilah.
Without her, I don’t feel at all.
I stare at the door for hours. The floorboards squeak when she pads over the carpet. The water runs when she brushes her teeth.
There’s a soft shik when she slides between her sheets, and then I’m counting her breaths. Waiting for them to slow.
I’m sure she’s asleep, but before I can pick the lock, Hunter rocks up in babysitter mode.
“Hands in your pockets,” he orders in that riff that forces me to obey.
“Dirty move.”
“You’re giving me white hair.” Hunter drags me to the living room, nudging me onto the couch next to Orion.
Hands in pockets, I log-fall onto the cushions and press my nose to a spot that smells like caramel.
“How’d we do?” Hunter ruffles Orion’s hair. “You liking class?”
“I don’t know if like is the word for getting a butt plug lecture from a ninety-year-old, but yeah. Should’ve gone to learn this shit years ago.”
“And Lilah?” Hunter asks.
I pop up. “Who’s that bitch Rachel and why did she introduce our girl to the fucking Brauns?”
“Wait. Rachel did that?” Orion frowns. “She’s Noelle Patrick’s sister.”
“What did the Brauns say?” Jett must’ve flayed them.
If he didn’t, I’m free.
“Same as the other attackers. They’re after the bounty. But it’s sus as hell. Someone got paid to vet them for a campus visit.” Hunter unbuttons his collar. He’s in a suit. No tie, but looking all gangbanger with his dark hair slicked back and ink spilling over his cuffs.
“You have a job interview with the mob?”
“Went to the bank. House has a cash buyer. Lilah can have the check tomorrow.”
