Page 73 of Call It What You Want
She gives me a small nod, and I leave. The walk from my bedroom to the basement takes less than two minutes, but it’s enough time for the shift to happen. The man who just kissed Ava goodbye peels away, and what’s left is the version of me she ran from three years ago—cold, methodical, and capable of things that would make her sick.
I head down the basement stairs, my footsteps echoing off the concrete. At the bottom, Andre is waiting outside the closed vault door, arms crossed.
“Are they awake?” I ask.
He nods. “The new one has been making demands all night.”
“Good,” I say, the monster inside stretching awake. “I like them alert.”
Andre swipes the code and the locks disengage one by one. Inside, the fluorescent lights buzz. The air tastes stale in here, recycled through vents designed to keep someone alive—or contained—for as long as the Burning Crown needs. But it isn’t pleasant.
Sin is still chained, sitting on his cot, leaning against the wall, looking none too pleased with his new roommate.
The guy from yesterday sits in a steel chair in the center of the room, wrists bound. He looks defiant, but also slightly scared. And he should be. Shit’s about to get real for him.
I step deeper into the room.
“Gentlemen,” I say, voice calm, my mouth already watering. I want blood. I want the crack of bone under my fist. “Let’s begin…”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Ava
I’m just out of the shower, barely dressed, when there’s a knock on the door. It must be the food. Thank God. My stomach is practically devouring itself.
“Coming!” I call out, tugging a white baby tee over my head as I walk to the door. When I open it, Eve and Wyn are standing there with matching grins. Eve holds up a paper bag.
“Food delivery,” she says, pushing the bag into my hands.
“Oh, my God,” I practically weep. Taking the bag over to the bed, I immediately start disemboweling it. I pull out a salad bowl, chips, and a bean and cheese burrito. Fuck the salad. I unwrap the burrito and go straight in. “I’m so hungry,” I say, moaning around that first glorious bite.
“Wow, no joke,” Wyn laughs, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Eve takes the bench at the end of the bed.
“We wanted to make sure you were okay after what happened yesterday,” Eve says, smirking. “Though judging by the sounds coming from this room last night, I’d say you’re doing just fine.”
My cheeks heat. “We weren’t?—”
“Honey.” Wyn raises an eyebrow, cutting me off. “This place was built a million years ago. The walls aren’t that thick.”
Eve laughs. “At one point, we couldn’t tell if you two were fucking or killing each other. Honestly, it could’ve gone either way.”
I tear off a piece of tortilla and launch it at Eve. It hits her forehead, and we all laugh. Then they lapse into a conversation about how Eve is feeling.
“Why, what’s wrong?” I ask. “Are you sick?”
“Pregnant,” she says, her hand falling to the slight swell of her stomach. “Eleven weeks.”
“Oh!” I’m shocked. I didn’t even notice. “Congrats.”
“Thanks,” she says with a smile.
Now I get it. Maybe that’s why she was so reflective in the kitchen when we first met. And I won’t lie, it gives me a tiny kernel of hope. All the Sacred Sons are seriously psycho, and if Eve can make it work with Christian, thenmaybethings could work between me and Jackson, too.
There’s just one thing nagging at me…
“Can I ask you guys something off-topic?” I say.
“Yeah,” Eve says, while at the same time, Wyn says, “Shoot.”
