Page 127 of Painted Scars
I get in my conditions before she wrangles any more crazy agreements out of me. “Backstage access only. Masks on at all times. Out of camera view. We split if anyone sees us.”
“Yes, Daddy.” We’re back to the nickname. Another sign the tension between us is thawing.
She grabs her phone. “Can I call Harper from here? It won’t alert anyone?”
I nudge a burner phone from Katar’s desk in her direction. “Use this. It won’t be traced.”
She moves into the corner, making the call and outlining the plan.
I overhear bits and pieces of Harper’s reply, especially the snarky last line. “Bring your broody ass. I’ll make sure no one sees you, cupcake.”
“I will. Love you.” She crushes the phone harder.
“I love you, cupcake,” Harper reinforces, louder this time. “Remember that. And if Kelly fucks up once more, I’m coming for his balls.”
Kate’s eyes tear up and nods. “See you tonight?” She nods again, finishes the conversation, and drops the phone on the desk.
I get up to clutch her elbows. “Are you okay, Glitter Bomb?”
She puts on her brave face, the smile that hides the shadows. “Yep. Want to get ready?”
I stroke her jaw with my knuckles. “We’ll have to stop by your house and mine to pick up clothing. If anyone’s scoping out your place, we leave and head for the safehouse.”
“Okay.” She consents to the backup plan.
I bring her in for a cuddle, and she buries her face against my chest and fists my shirt. The small gesture tells me she’s left the door unlocked for me, even if she hasn’t forgiven me. I’mreaching for the handle carefully, as if moving too fast will scare her back into the shadows.
I brush her hair. “Let’s have a night we’ll never forget, Glitter Bomb.”
This time, I’m not letting her go. I’ll be by her side, fighting off the monsters, lopping off heads, until none of them remain.
CHAPTER 36 - KATE
The Velvet Viper doesn’t have a sign or lines of hopefuls eager to get inside. Denizens knock on the wrought-iron serpent handle on the black door, and security permits entry if you’re on the guest list. The signal is subtle enough to deter the curious and blatant enough to signal to those in the know what kind of sins are sold here.
August scans the alley and buildings as if expecting sniper fire from the roof as a welcoming party. The matte black leather mask covers his eyes and nose, closing over his sharp cheekbones, leaving just the grim line of his mouth. In the low glow spilling from second-story windows, he looks dark, mysterious, lethal, and incredibly sexy… a look I’m still getting used to after nothing but the helmet and my imagination for the last month.
Decked out in evening wear for a change, he’s styled to match the attire requirements—black dress shirt, collar open to hint at ink beneath, sleeves rolled once, dark slacks, and boots to kick someone’s skull in. He crushes my hand and holds me tightly to his side.
I chose a fitted midnight dress with a slit high enough for movement, my neckline softened with a single silver chain and a unicorn pendant he bought me a week ago. Black lace and glitter decorate my mask, cut to frame my eyes and leave only my smile, giving me the poison with a kiss vibe that Harper wears so well.
Before I can adjust the strap, the eyes of the snake door handle flash red. Heavy steel scrapes open, and the club breathes on us, smoke cloying with expensive perfume, the tang of top-shelf liquor, and the low percussion of jazz. Somewhere inside, a woman laughs with the promise of trouble, and men argue in hushed voices.
Security tosses a man out onto the rain-slicked alley, and he lands, rolls, swears, and stumbles down the pavement.
August wraps an arm around me and pulls me to his chest, forcing me to move with him inside.
The bouncer blocks our way, arms folded across his chest like carved granite blocks. “What do you want?” His eyes flick from me to August, weighing us like a butcher judges a cut of meat.
“Hi,” I chirp, because someone has to break the tension before my pulse blows the mask off my face.
Harper fills the doorway behind him in a skintight black corset dress, lavish legs for days, skirt short enough to make a serpent blush. “It’s all right, Kev. They’re with me.”
The bouncer grunts and stomps away.
She takes one look at August and smirks in a way that says she knows every thought in his head. “Broody in a mask. Kinky.”
“That’s my line.” I tug free of my protector to wrap her in a hug, and I don’t care if she protests because she’s not affectionate. This may be the last time we’re in person together for a long time… if ever… and I want to make it count. I alsowant her to know that despite her sharp edges and steel under her skin, if anything goes astray, she’s my person.
