Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
The line cuts and I pull the phone from my ear, staring at Leon’s contact photo, a blurry shot of him mid-laugh from two summers ago.
Asher hasn’t moved from the swing, and I don’t have to turn to know he’s looking right at me.
“Important?”
It’s a simple question for a not-so-simple answer. I have no idea what to say right now and considering one wrong word might fucking ruin any chance of him saying yes, I flash a smile instead.
“Maybe. I just need to—” My thumb jerks over my shoulder before I’m dashing for the door and heading inside. Warm air hits my skin as I quicken my pace down the hall and into my room.
A small overnight bag sits on the bottom shelf of my closet, and I waste zero time tossing it onto the bed. My hand dives between the mattress and the frame, moving around until I find my gun.
I haven’t been to Désamour since we left. It’s home. It always has and always will be home. I should be excited to go back, since the opportunity has never come up, but all I’m left feeling is…
Nausea.
Asher’s voice cracks from the doorway. “And—where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
I freeze, Desert Eagle swinging off one finger.
Atlas appears behind him, hands raised as if to stop whatever war is about to erupt, only to do a double take on what I’m holding.
His brows jump. “No offense, but you shouldn’t be allowed weapons anymore.” He turns to his brother. “Tell her she’s not allowed weapons anymore.”
There’s no escaping. Even if I could run, I don’t want to. “I have to go home for a family tradition.”
Asher looks to the side, chuckling. “Not happening.”
My chest caves in, strangling my reply. “Asher…”
The magazine slips out of the chamber, landing in the palm of my hand.
I replace it without breaking eye contact. “It’s my…”
How am I going to explain this? He and I have never talked about our families, never shared a single detail personal enough to go deeper than the surface of who we were to each other. It’s why I fell for him, and why I was probably so easily tricked by him. And vice versa.
Wait…
I straighten, pointing at his chest. “You should come. It’s not like we wouldn’t be seen with each other anyway?”
His features don’t give any of his thoughts away as he moves further into the room.
Atlas shrieks, lunging for the weapon in my hand, but my arm snaps back before he can take it.
“You are not touching my gun!”
Fingers close around my elbow from behind. Asher covers the hand that’s holding the gun. I still haven’t worked out which one he’s trying to claim, the weapon or me.
He takes it, clicks the safety, and locks it away.
Guess that answers that…
Footsteps sound outside my door before Daniel appears, his attention bouncing between the three of us.
Asher angles his body to stand in front of mine as if on instinct.
I try to shove him out of the way. “Well, this is the start to every porn ever.”
No one laughs.
Daniel looks between my bag and my face. “La Journée du Nous, I didn’t realize it was so soon.”
You and me both, friend.
I glance up at Asher, expecting to read one hundred silent questions, but his expression is flat. It’s like rereading your favorite book, one you’ve read so often that you can recite every line, when all of a sudden the words don’t make sense. I can’t read him like I used to. He’s built a wall around the parts of himself that felt like home.
Asher ignores Daniel. “You ain’t going, Venom.”
He’s going to make this difficult for me. Everything is always going to be difficult.
“I don’t care if you kill me. You can. I don’t care. I earned it, whatever. Death? Death is simple to me. It’s something I made peace with a long time ago. You don’t do what I do and expect not to die, Asher.”
I fight with everything inside of me to not touch him, to not show any kind of weakness that he can use to destroy me, but my body vibrates with every passing second, nausea flipping my stomach upside down.
Fuck it.
I slide my hands up the side of his neck and rest them on his cheeks. “But I need you to do it after we’re back.”
I’ve already said too much, felt way more, and the longer I’m around him the worse it gets, so I brace myself for the rejection. For him to push me away, probably into Atlas to deal with me, if I had to guess the vibe of what his duty is.
His finger hooks beneath my chin, killing every thought in my head. He tips my face toward his, and the panic clawing at my ribs eases.
Blue eyes hold me there. For a single, stupid moment we’re back to how we used to be.