Page 34 of Hell Bites

The two of them talk in quieter, soothing tones, and reassuring words from her brother are spoken, and after a few moments, they leave the bathroom.

I don’t get out, though.

As stupid as it is, I just get to my feet and stand under the freezing spray of water, and wait for Zia to give me the all clear before I turn it off or exit the tub.

And even though I’m thinking of about a million things to say to her when she gets back, only one of them comes out of my mouth when she does.

“Felix?” Zia whips open the curtain with wide eyes, her gaze moving over my face and sopping wet body for a beat. “Felix, are you—”

“You’re fucking married?” Because that is apparently the most pressing matter right now.

Fucking idiot.

Chapter Eleven

Azizia

I almost died when my brother tore through the bathroom door, and I don’t just mean because I was scared of him finding out I’d kidnapped someone and was holding them hostage; but because if he found out I’d kidnapped someone and was holding them hostage, he’d kill me himself.

It’s a good thing Roger can’t talk because that hairless alien certainly would have ratted me out, and without a second thought too. The damn thing couldn’t even play nice for two seconds to help me out. I thought cats were supposed to be nice? Why else would people have them for pets? That damn thing is a menace! And where the hell am I going to keep him now? My brute of a brother tore the bathroom door right off the hinges, so that fat beast is just going to roam free in my house? What if he tries to suffocate me while I sleep? All he’d need to do is plop his fat ass on my face and I’d be a goner.

Once Rae is finally gone, I feel like I can breathe, which lasts for all of three seconds until I remember Felix is in the bathroom… but not just in the bathroom, in the shower! And soaked, too.

I hurry to him to offer him help, but when I get to him, I find him furious.

“You’re fucking married?” he barks at me.

Of all things that my brother said, Felix had to remember that?

My eyes widen, and I step back. I didn’t think he had it in him to speak in such a firm and demanding voice, but it seems when he’s passionate about something, it's no problem. My thoughts ping-pong back and forth to how much I like his tone and why he cares that I’m married, to the fact I think he’s actually angry.

Why, of all things, is he angry about this?

He didn’t get this upset over me kidnapping him.

Not about trying to get him to drink human blood.

Not about killing someone.

Not about keeping his cat hostage.

He did get a little upset about me opening up someone else’s mail, but then he used that toy on me and he seemed to like it, and forgot the fact that he was partaking in said federal offense by using the stolen mail…

Men are such strange beings.

“Uhm… yes?”

Felix growls, then tugs the curtain open the rest of the way so hard that the plastic hangers snap, the bar that was holding it falls off and crashes to the floor. I jump back as he slips in the tub, but catches himself on the wall and doesn’t fall. He gets out, straightens himself, then pins me with a glare. He walks toward the door, but stops right beside me, looking down at me and says through clenched teeth, “It smells like death in here.” Then he keeps going.

I’ve made him angry.

Why did I make him angry?

No, not why. But how? I didn’t do it on purpose—hell, I didn’t even do anything but save Felix. I don’t want him angry with me. I want him to love me!

“Felix, wait!” I shout, spinning around to follow after him. I find him on his hands and knees in the kitchen, looking under the table. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for my cat so we can leave.”

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