Page 31 of Holiday Scars
Blade doesn’t look at me or talk to me while we load up Dirk’s SUV on Sunday. He moves around me like I’m a piece of broken furniture. Not someone he touched, kissed, or held.
Or made love to.
Was that love?
I offer to drive, and he doesn’t object.
The purr of Dirk’s Raptor pickup eats up the rolling miles and fills the space between us. There’s no music. No talking. Just the steady thrum of tires spinning against the asphalt. And the occasional sound of Blade breathing beside me.
I want to ask if this weekend meant anything. IfIdid. But every time I glance over, he’s turned away, eyes closed like he’s already somewhere else.
I keep my gaze on the road and pretend it doesn’t hurt. It was just a fling. He said it himself. I knew what I was getting into.
So why does it hurt so much more when the city skyline rises on the other side of the bridge? Why does my chest tighten so painfully?
I pull up in front of Blade’s rowhouse, and he unbuckles his seatbelt. After a long exhale, he turns to me, about to finally talk to me, only to have Stavros step out from the vestibule.
In a perfectly pressed suit and sunglasses, even though the sky is gray, he looks like some kind of movie star. A cigarette dangles between his fingers, and he gives Blade a smile that makes my hands clench around the steering wheel.
Stavros is the kind of man Blade loves to fuck. Clean. Confident. Acceptable.
Not someone like me, a messy killer with a scarred past. I was just good to fuck while these two were on a break.
Blade’s expression flickers, seeing his ex waiting for him. He turns to me, shoulder brushing mine. “Look, about this weekend,” he says hesitantly.
I grip the wheel tighter. “Get out, Blade.”
He looks at me, surprised. “That’s harsh.”
“Figure it out,” I say, my voice flat. “Whatever it is you want. If it’s Stavros, have at it.”
Blade starts to say something, but I look straight ahead until he gets out. When he does, I hit the gas and pull away from the curb, the engine growling.
By the time I reach Dirk’s garage, my throat hurts from holding in a swell of tears. I toss the keys to the attendant, grab my bag, and head north a few blocks on foot. I need my blood moving to help me think.
I sigh, looking up at my apartment. Inside, it smells unrecognizable. Like the man I was before I got into bed with Blade and let him fulfill my fantasies. I drop the bag by the door and stand there for a long minute.
This is what I get for taking a chance and wanting more from someone who didn’t want me the same way. I got what I asked for: one weekend with the man I’ve secretly craved for years. Even if I didn’t really know it. All the signs were there. Why didn’t I confront Blade sooner?
I sit on the edge of my bed, pull out my phone, and scroll through my contacts until I find Creed, Shane’s guard.
He picks up on the second ring. “Jett, my man. What’s up?”
“Do you still need another guard on Lennox’s detail?”
“Mrs. Quinlan is due any day, and Shane wants her and the baby to have extra protection, so yeah,” he says. “You in?”
“Yeah,” I say, voice steady even though my chest is on fire. “I’m in.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Blade
Three weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since my Thanksgiving mountain retreat with Jett. Three weeks since I watched him drive away without looking back.
It feels like years.
