Page 18 of Powerless
"Hm," he pondered, stroking my cheek. "No."
"Ugh, what?"
The bastard had the nerve to laugh at my crestfallen face. "As much as I enjoy you," he pecked a kiss on my lips, "I'm notthatpussy-whipped." He swatted my ass again before standing up. "Let's go."
I rolled out of bed and pulled on clothes while he and Hades waited by the door. The dog's ears perked up at the sight of me, his paws tapping excitedly on the floor as I approached.
"Hey, boy! Let me see your wound."
I shouldn't have been surprised but my pulse sped up at the sight anyway. The incision was completely closed and the scar tissue faded to a pale grey color.
"Looks like I can cut off those stitches, boy." Then to Reaper, "I can't get over how weird this is. This doesn't freak you out at all?"
"Why would it?" He pulled open the door and led us out into the hallway. "If it means my best friend can survive what's thrown at him and it keeps him around longer, why would I question that?"
"Because it's scientifically impossible," I said. "Tissue can take weeks to reconnect. Not to mention all the blood vessels and the nerve damage from a cut that deep—"
"You're talking to a guy who never finished high school, Miss Medic," Reaper looked at me coyly. "And I was stoned for most of the time I was there. I don't know any of that scientific stuff you learned with a fancy education. All I know is what the world has shown me."
"Oh," I said blankly, taken aback. "Sorry, I didn't know."
"You didn't ask." He threw an arm over my shoulder as we descended the stairs, then pressed a kiss to my temple. "It's all right, sugar. The onset of the Collapse prevented a lot of us from seeking higher education."
"How so?" I glanced at his hand hanging over my shoulder and wondered how weird it would be if I tried to hold it.
"Did you ever watch the news?" he teased. "The feds decimated school funding. Teachers’ pay became a pittance. Nearly every public school in Arizona went on strike, which accomplished jack fucking shit. That was about five years pre big-C."
"I heard about the school protests all around the country then. But that was when the news channels in Texas started being cut off and we depended on random radio reports. We never knew what to believe."
"Which was exactly what they wanted," Reaper muttered.
"It just surprises me," I looked up at him, the stubble on his jaw getting longer in the past few days. "You lead a powerful MC, you ask so many questions, even about abstract ideas—“
"You saying I'm smarter than I look?" he grinned.
"I didn't mean it like that," I stammered. "You just don'tactlike you're uneducated."
"Something my father told me," his voice lowered after a few moments of silence, "was if someone claimed to have all the answers, they were full of shit. Question what they say, and see how their actions match their words." His arm lifted off my shoulders and I felt his fingers skim down my back. "Hades has always been loyal to me, so I'm less inclined to question every little thing that happens to him."
We made our way into the dining room as he spoke, his fellow Steel Demons milling about like regular hotel guests at a continental breakfast. Their eyes lifted to him as we passed, mumbling words of greeting to their president and none to me.
Of course not. Why would they? A sobering realization hit me out of nowhere. He might be sweet to me in the bedroom but out here, I was just Reaper's arm candy. His flavor of the week, or month if I was lucky. Aside from eye-fucking me at the Old Phoenix service center, his men barely acknowledged my existence.
It was painfully obvious as Reaper stopped to chat with two of Gunner's guardsmen. His hand drifted up to rub a gentle massage on the nape of my neck. I might as well have been carved from wood—nothing but a prop for him to touch and claim ownership of.
The longer I stood there, the more uncomfortable I became. Reaper must have noticed me stiffen because his fingers dug harder into my neck. I was moments away from slapping his hand off of me when I spotted Gunner striding down the long corridor ahead of us.
"Gunner!" I called to him with a wave and my heart lifted at his returned smile. Now there was a rare man who didn't see women as disposable sex dolls.
"Morning, Mari." Horus spread his wings and sailed off his shoulder to land on the breakfast bar next to us, much to the dismay of the guy Reaper was talking to.
Upon closer look, Gunner was dressed for riding. He has his tactical-style cut on, decked out with pockets and holders for weapons and ammo.
"Going for a ride?" I asked him.
His smile faded, lips pressing together into a thin line. "Yeah. I'd take you with, but I'm gonna be gone for a couple of weeks."
"What?" I cried.
