Page 15 of Blood and Thorns
Something twisted in my gut, and I wondered if it was disappointment. It had been a few days, and still I haven’t caught a single peek of her. I was almost tempted to ask Langdon to sneak into the flat above and plant a camera, hoping tocatch just another glimpse of the woman who’d bitten me and then left me with the biggest fucking hard-on.
Defiance wasn’t my kink, but my cock didn’t seem to care.
Not when it came to her, at least.
Clicking the remote, I filtered through the feed until I came to Morris, his arms frantic as he tried to shoo the tarantulas that sometimes called his cell home.
He was standing on his makeshift bed, clearly terrified of the eight-legged creatures I was so fascinated with. He was lucky; the cell’s last occupant had nothing but a bucket. The fact I gave him a bed made me a goddamn fucking saint, and he should be more grateful.
I returned to flicking through the screens, only for my eyes to immediately settle on a familiar face. Reaching for my phone, Icalled Caden.
He answered immediately.
“What the fuck is Detective Graves doing here?” Conniving little cunt wasn’t welcome since he was caught sticking his nose into places he didn’t belong. It didn’t matter that he found nothing. No one, not even the police, moved in my territory without my permission.
“Oh, hi Caden, how are you? Oh, I’m great Bas, you know, chilling and–”
“Cade,” I growled.
A chuckle echoed through the line. “Did you say Graves? I haven’t seen him, but Miles is working the door. I’ll go check.”
I watched Gabriel a little longer, his posture at ease in a place he knew he didn’t belong. He hadn’t risked stepping foot inside any of my establishments since the last time he’d been warned. So what has changed? Why now would he risk his life?
He was a fool, but he wasn’t stupid.
Phone in hand, I pulled on my black shirt and trousers, pairing it with the matching jacket. I fucking hated it, but I forced myself to look civilised because it put people on edge when they first meet me and realised I was anything but.
The fabric felt tough, brushing against the scars that sliced across my back and shoulders akin to sandpaper. They were the thickest and most irritating. But unlike Langdon, mine were made from blades and whips, not flames.
The ones on my face were nothing compared to his, mere scratches that disappeared beneath my beard. The one that sliced down my eye was harder to hide, as was the one through my upper lip. Not that I cared about hiding them. My uncle once tried to convince me to seek treatment, but I’d always refused.
Why hide from my past? The scars and the memories attached made me who I was.
Tugging at the collar, I glanced back at the screen, only to still. Because there, looking completely out of place in her pale blue summer dress compared to the surrounding elegance, washer.
“Bas?” Caden’s voice jolted me out of my stasis. “He came in with someone on your personal pre-approved list. Want me to deal with it?”
I blinked, finding Graves tugging her to his side as if he had the right to. From the camera’s angle I couldn’t see her entire expression, but her shoulders tensed. Her spine rigid.
“Bas?”
“Don’t worry, I’m coming in,” I said, reaching for my mask. “I’ll deal with it myself.”
Chapter 9
Arabella
I was two seconds away from slapping Gabriel across the face, but that would draw even more attention to me. I was trying to ignore the stares, but they were starting to become obvious.
“Don’t worry, baby. You look fine,” Gabriel crooned, clearly ignoring my ‘don’t touch me’ vibe when he pulled me to his side.
I forced a smile, warily glancing around the interior of the notoriousThorn. It wasn’t what I expected for a nightclub, at least, it wasn’t like anywhere I’ve been before.
Fitted Savile Row suits and elegant dresses more at home on the runway than a club where the music was live, and the lights were dimmed. Crystal chandeliers adorned the high ceilings, and at the edge of the dance floor were tables and chairs with personal staff.
Gabriel vibrated beside me, his knee bouncing as he tried to gain the bartender’s attention. It had taken us an hour to get inside, the queue surprisingly long considering I didn’t even know the place existed. The bouncers were turning people away with no reason, only letting in those they deemed appropriate. We were initially denied, and asGabriel had begun to argue, one of the bouncers whispered to the other before finally lifting the velvet rope.
I don’t know how or why we passed their secretive criteria, because I didn’t belong in here, and as soon as I’d spoken to Sebastian, I was gone.
