Page 29 of Gluttony
She stared, wide-eyed. “True. But you’re all healed, and you should have come to see me!”
“I just said that.”
They faced off.
“You two need a minute?” Max asked, clearly unimpressed.
Sloan suddenly smiled and trotted over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Nah, we’re all good now. See you at lunch.”
“What for?”
“Wedding cake shopping. Duh.”
“Right,” Max laughed. He hooked her around the waist and pulled her in for a possessive kiss that made Tony look away. When Max was done, he patted Tony on the shoulder. “See you later.”
Then Max left and shut the door behind him, leaving Tony very confused and inside Sloan’s territory.
“You want a slice?” she asked, holding the box out to him.
“Um. Is it poisoned?”
“Yes, I mean, no. I mean…” Sloan burst out laughing. “Look at your face. You…” Then her humor dropped. “You don’t really think I’d poison you, would you?”
He shrugged and wiped something sticky off his nose. Gross.
She bit her lip and jogged to her kitchen, only a few feet away. She collected a towel from a hook, wet it under the faucet, and came back to him. “Sorry, bras. I thought you liked all this prank business.”
He snatched the towel and began to wipe his face. “Yeah maybe I liked it before it became about hanging bloody dolls in my trailer or scratching up the Ducati.”
“Say what?”
Tony paused, mid swipe on his face as the cold hard truth solidified. He kind of knew it already, but now he had no way of pretending it was her. The alternative was to believe his life was in more of a shambles than he admitted. Goddamn it. “Fuck,” he mumbled into the cloth.
“Someone scratched up your bike?”
“Yeah,” he balled up the towel and three-pointered it to the kitchen sink.
“I mean, I knew about the dolls. Max told me.” Sloan waved him in further and indicated to take a seat on her couch. She flicked an empty packet of crisps out of the way and then sat herself. “What else went wrong?”
He lowered himself onto the couch. “What’snotgoing wrong right now? Between this power that explodes uncontrollably—sorry about that by the way—and my mate potentially investigating me, to the fricking stalker shit, to my goddamned dickwad agent trying to push me into another movie I’m not ready for, to—” he cut himself off. He wasn’t ready to voice the rest of his concerns about Bailey.
“You said you didn’t trust Bailey, but you didn’t say why.”
“Just a feeling.”
“Well, maybe this will help with your feelings.” Sloan reached into the space between her cushion and the couch headboard and pulled out her laptop. Sticking out of the port was a thumb-drive. She pulled it out and handed it to him.
“What's this?” he asked.
“Your wish is my desire. Wait. That’s wrong. Is it wrong?” Sloan screwed up her face, thinking. “What is the saying? Doesn’t matter. The point is, I got your back, bras. I owe you big time for how you helped me get a hold of my powers. I’m here for you.”
“Thanks.” He took the drive from her.
“And if you need help to control yours, just ask. But maybe ask Wyatt. Cos, you know, that burn fucking hurt!”
“Sorry.”
She smiled gently, placed her elbow on the couch, and rested her head in her hand. “She’s not working for the CIA anymore as far as I can tell, but just because I couldn’t find anything, doesn’t mean it’s true. Those guys are sneaky. And the reason there’s not much about her past is that it was a shitty one. You should really ask her about it instead of snooping. She’s volunteering this morning down at Hudson House. It’s a youth addiction center on Fourth.”
