Page 12 of Hero: Claimed

“What? She’s a hippo. She should be grazing the grasslands.”

“Hippos spend most of their lives submerged underwater. They don’t graze the grasslands.” Brinley laughs, but it’s uncomfortable to hear her answer. Like she’s had to respond to this exact cutdown before.

“Seriously, what’re you, ten?” I say to Destini. “Get gone.” Then I shove her away and slide onto a stool. “Thanks, Brin. It looks fantastic. What is it?”

Brinley’s eyes dull and her smile turns from genuine to fake, forced. I feel that in my gut. Like a blow. Only her dull eyes watch Destini walk away. I mean, shit, Brin’s not that big. I’ve definitely seen bigger… hell, I’m no good picking out sizes above a six.

Her eyes dart back to me. She covers quickly. “Well, I only know it as American chop suey.”

Nope. Never heard of it before. But as I pick up the fork she slides to me to scoop up a mouthful of noodles, sauce, and vegetables, and chew, I know for damn sure that I could eat this every day for a week and not grow tired of it.

“This is the shit. You gonna join me?”

“No. I’m good. I prefer to take my dinner in private.”

Shit.

“Brin, we’ve gotta talk.”

She holds her hand up to stop me. “Nothing to talk about. If you want to take her”—she uses her chin to gesture the way Destini walked—“to the room, just let me know so I don’t walk in on you. Or, in colleges, it’s a thing to hang a bandana on the door handle.”

“This ain’t college, babe.”

“I know. But we need a system.”

I take another bite of food, chew it, and toss the fork down onto the plate. It clanks loudly. I’ve moved past mildly irritated by this conversation to downright pissed. “We don’t need a system. You’re my old lady.”

“We both know what that’s worth.”

I cock my brow, hunger winning out over irritation, and pick the fork back up to shovel in another delicious bite.

“Protection,” she says. “I cook and clean in return for your protection. I’m nothing more than that. You don’t even know me, Hero. I’m just some woman you offered to help. And I appreciate it. I absolutely one hundred percent do. But no good man will ever want me. You’re a good man and I know my place in this world.”

She swipes the plate from under my hovering hand still holding the fork, which she plucks from me and runs with her head down into the kitchen.

Dammit! What the hell just happened?

While I’m busy staring dumbfounded at the spot Brinley stood just a minute ago, Crass slides onto the stool next to me and pats me on the back. “Welcome to the confusing world of women, brother.”

“I don’t even know what that was about. She wanted a system so she doesn’t walk in on me screwing some chick in our bed.”

“Not a bad idea,” he says, which gets my rage boiling under my skin.

“Not a bad idea?” I spit out. “That’s just insulting, man. I’d never fuck another woman in that bed. Not while she’s here.”

“But are you gonna stop fucking other women?”

What?“The fuck? Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s just… I’m a… because it’s ridiculous.”

Crass stands from the stool. One arm he wraps around my shoulder, and the other he braces against the countertop to lean way in. “Thought I should point out, you called it ‘our bed.’ So maybe not ridiculous, after all.” Then the bastard pushes off me and walks away. What does he know? She might be a pain in our asses, but his woman, Brighton, is fucking hot. Tiny thing, the kind of woman you can lift and fuck against the wall or in the shower. I’d never be able to lift Brinley against the wall, would I? Inwardly I laugh because no, not without straining my back.

She just has my head messed up is all. She and I have to talk—now. I stand from the stool and follow her into the kitchen, hoping like hell she’s alone in there.

At least luck is on my side a little. No one’s in here but Brin, leaning over the sink. Her head is hung low, her hands are clasped in front of her resting on the metal rim between the sinks and she’s crying.

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