Page 97 of Wild Blades

“Always,” she replies sweetly, with that just-fucked heavy-eyed look about her.

“What’s with all the framed artwork of that blue woman?” I use my head to point to them on the wall.

“That is The Goddess Kali. My parents named me after her.”

I flick my eyes from one painting to the next one where she has her tongue sticking out and looks scary as fuck. Nothing like one of those blue creatures fromAvatar.

She explains, “There are heaps of interpretations of her name, but she’s known as being the goddess of darkness and destruction. Even death.”

Oh shit. That doesn’t sound good.

Continuing, she adds, “She’s also the goddess of change, someone you call upon during times of disaster to help you face your fears, liberate yourself from old attachments to help you transform, and set you on the right path. She’s the destroyer of beliefs.”

The meaning of her name is not lost on my current situation. Goddess of transformation; I like that much better.

I was half joking about Gretchen sending Kali to me, but maybe I was right after all.

“She’s a warrior.” I feel the weight of her stare on the side of my face. “Like you, Wade.”

Swallowing my disagreement that’s threatening to slip off my tongue, I opt to stay silent.

I want to believe that so much. Let’s hope I can destroy my old patterns to stop me from destroying myself. Or anyone else.

I look back at Kali and silently pray we don’t destroy each other in the process.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Kali

The soft thrumming rock music plays through Wade’s sound system in his truck.

Driving toward Gretchen’s grave, his hand has never left my thigh. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music, I get the sense he’s nervous about me coming today.

Following a successful sixty-second quick-fire Q&A, where I discovered Wade’s wittier than he lets on—his sense of humor is drier than a breadstick and had Lola and I in stitches—Casey, the videographer, convinced him to do the viral tortilla slap challenge with Jayden Spurr.

Watching a professional hockey and basketball player slap the hell out of each with a tortilla with their cheeks full of water while trying not to laugh was the funniest thing we’ve filmed in the office since I opened the doors of KRPR. Wearing ponchos to protect their clothes, neither of them held back, spraying water at each other as they struggled to contain their own laughter and it pulled the attention of everyone in the office.

Wade isn’t bad, or wild like the media would have everyone believing. He’s just misunderstood and in need of some guidance. Which I’m more than happy to help with.

I like every part of him, even the broken parts.

He has no one.

I want to be his someone.

Be everything he needs.

Squeezing my hand, he surprises me when he asks me out of the blue, “Did you DM Zane the other night?”

“Yes,” I answer honestly. I have nothing to hide.

Jaw twitching, he looks pissed about that, which makes me smile. I put him out of his misery. “And Spike, Lucas, Jordy, pretty much the whole team. I asked them for photos of themselves in their uniforms when they played for their peewee team.” I lay my head back on the headrest and twist my neck to stare at the side of his face. “It’s for the now and then guess the player post for your social media. It will help connect you with your team, increase engagement. It’ll be fun.”

Lifting my hand to his mouth, he kisses the back of it. “You make me feel stuff.” He taps another kiss on my hand.

“You’ll have to explain.” I don’t understand.

“The idea of you with another man… I can’t even say the words.”

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