Page 30 of Double Standards
She disappears out the front door, and I’m still staring at the empty space she left. And I’m not talking about the chair in front of me, but the presence. Her comfortability, her confidence. It’s addictive and she’s left nothing for me.
Something about her burrows under my skin, deeper every time we meet. It’s not just want—it’s worse. It’s a pull I don’t like. A crack in my armor. And I know exactly how that kind of weakness gets exploited.
But for a few seconds, I let myself feel it anyway: the ache of something I shouldn’t want.
Then I shove it down where it belongs.
A low whistle cuts through the silence. Trigger steps inside, grin spread wide like the bastard enjoys the show. “I like her.”
“Of course you do,” I mutter.
He smirks.
“Did it feel good?” I shoot him a look.
“You think I had something to do with that?” He mock gasps.
“Iknow you did.” Because Trigger lives to push my fucking buttons.
He shrugs, all mock innocence. “Didn’t think she’d pull it off.”
“She’s got balls,” I mutter.
“She sure has.”
I don’t get the chance to respond before Max Lucchese enters. He stands silently, his body taking up the whole door frame. He’s one of my best friends, someone I’ve known since I was a kid. In our world, there’s not many people you can rely on, but Lucchese is the exception. He’s built like a boulder—moves like one too—but his silence is his deadliest weapon. Where I preferwords that slice. Maxton prefers presence. Together, we balance the blade.
He moves forward to bump fists with mine before settling into the armchair opposite me.
“Where’s Ryder?”
Trigger waves the question away dismissively. “Kid’s still chasing shadows.”
“And pussy,” Hunter remarks as he strolls in, letting the door click shut behind him.
“Nice of you to join us,” I mutter.
“Had a situation on forty-third,” he explains, eyes still glued to his phone. “Handled.”
I nod. I don’t need the details. We all have our own sectors. As long as the poison stays in your garden, I don’t give a fuck how you water it.
“So?” Hunter drops into the spot beside Trigger. “What’s the emergency?”
I lift the letter that’s been sitting on my desk like a loaded gun.
“Arraignment in two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” Hunter’s voice spikes. “That’s bullshit. Can they even do that?”
“Apparently they can. And they have,” I growl, shoving the paper aside.
“This is all kinds of fucked,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his hair like it might help. It won’t. “What about Cassie? She’s handling this, right?”
Trigger’s eyes gleam like a man who knows a secret. “Cassie’s on it.”
Hunter grins like an idiot, but before he can even get a word out of his play-boy mouth, Trigger kicks his leg. “Down, boy. Ax has dibs.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, willing away the pounding headache brewing behind my eyes. They’ve been in the room for less than five minutes, and I already want to shoot someone—maybe two. Tempers are short, egos are high, and patience? That’s long gone. Maxton’s the only one not actively pissing me off right now, but that’s not unusual.
