Page 64 of A Murderous Crow
“What’s that dripping, the sink?” he asked as I shut the door on the darkened neighborhood and the cool night air.
“My bedroom roof,” I said unhappily.
“The fuck is going on here?” he demanded.
“Don’t,” I said sharply.
“No, I want answers. This place is a shithole, Savannah. How long have you lived here like this?”
“Since I moved here,” I said defensively. “And it is not. I did most of the inside myself.”
“Baby, we’re in real estate. Be so for fucking real right now! You can polish a turd, but it’s still just a turd at the end of the day. I highly doubt this place wouldevenpass inspection!”
“It’s what I can afford! Alright! What would you know about it?” I demanded.
“Everything, if you would let me in and tell me,” he said quietly, and I jerked back as though I’d been slapped.
Ouch.
“It’s justsex, Corbett. Don’t pretend now that you want something with me other than that!” I snapped.
He looked… hurt.
“I deserved that,” he said, and he sniffed. He looked around and tried a light switch. Power was still down.
He raked a hand back through his hair which was as messy as I’d ever seen it, and moved like a storm cloud through the house. It was then that I realized he wasn’t dressed like I normally saw him, in one of his expensive suits.
No, this wasn’t Corbett, this was Corvus… and he looked every inch the badass biker from the boots that thudded dully against my cement floor, to the rugged jeans and leather chaps on his legs. He wore a zipped up thick leather biker jacket, andthe Iron Wraith’s vest over that and it made me back against the wall, leaning heavily on it becauseLord!The man wasfine.
He turned to look at me and shook his head. “What is this?” he asked. “You do as well if not better than me at the real estate game. You should be making money in the fuckingmillions. Is old man Beauregard holding out on you? What?” he demanded.
“No! No, it’s not like that,” I said unhappily, and I scrubbed my face with my hands.
“Then what is it?” he asked.
“You first,” I said stalling for time. “Why Corvus?”
“My laugh, for one—” he said. “My ability to hold a grudge for another.”
I frowned at him.
“I love your laugh,” I said and his eyebrows went up in the dim golden light.
“Stop stalling,” he ordered.
“My family is in deep with the IRS,” I said. “Every bit of extra is going to Uncle Sam to keep the family home and to take care of my grandma. She has memory issues, dementia. She needs round-the-clock care and my mom can’t doeverythingas much as she would like to.”
He stood, hands flexing in and out of fists.
“Throw some shit together. You’re coming home with me,” he said.
“Seriously?” I blinked.
“Pack a bag, Kitten. Before I change my mind.”
I gave a haughty and somewhat incredulous laugh and crossed my arms.
“I knew this would happen,” I said bitterly.
