Page 9 of Run From Me

“This isn’t Viper property. How come they let you live here?”

She waited for me to step inside before slamming the door and locking not just the dead bolt but several other internal bolts. I was a bit more impressed now.

“Like I said. It wasn’t exactly a choice. Do you see a tattoo on me? I get to live where I want.”

I pressed my lips together and studied the place.

“And you want to live with crunchy carpet?”

My hands were still stuffed in my pockets. Why the hell did I want to pull her into me so bad, like I could fix something?

She wasn’t answering, and the carpet really did crunch when I sidestepped the kitchen island. The counters were even peeling.

“Right. Well, to be fair, you haven’t shown me the rest of your body, now have you? And with that little brand on your hip, I’ll have to take your word for it that you don’t have their tattoo.”

Calliope stood there, and I started to take in the place that she’d chosen to call home.

The walls were painted white, but it looked relatively fresh compared to the rest of the building. There was a small table and chairs. A bookcase across the room.

“What? You don’t just trust me? I’m a friend of Rylee, I wouldn’t lie to you. But if that’s some kind of shit line to see me naked? Well, jury still’s out on whether I should let you,” she said as fabric hit me in the face.

I grabbed it off my head and nearly swallowed my tongue.

“Have a look you giant asshole. No tattoos. I wouldn’t lie to you or Rylee. Did you ask her? She knows I’m not a card-carrying member of the ball less snake crew.”

What the? I couldn’t stop the gut deep laugh.

“Ball less snake crew?”

But hell. She was turning around in just her bra and underwear, and I’d never seen someone so damn gorgeous in my life.

I cleared my throat trying to figure out how to speak.

“Yeah. Snakes don’t have fucking balls. Explains the lot of assholes who think they own my ass.”

She was practically shouting the words right now, and then it all clicked. This place was bugged. Yeah. Couldn’t blame the fuckers regardless of what her place in their organization was.

I just nodded.

“Get dressed. I believe you.”

I was watching her chest heave as she was damn-near hyperventilating. She wasn’t at all the confident woman I’d witnessed flip off a man bleeding out on her floor. Or maybe she was and there was something else. If I was good at reading women, I’d probably have been better at picking ones that didn’t cling.

I held up what I now realized was her crumpled up tank top.

“I am keeping this though. No take backs. I think pink’s my color.” I gave her the grin that seemed to work on all the ladies. Or at least the ones whose beds I wanted to worm my way into. But her?

“Shit, what’s that look for, Sparky?”

She glared.

“Ugh. You are so weird. Rylee never mentioned what a weirdo you were.”

That really gave me something to smile over.

“Aww. You guys talked about me? Was it my sweet ass? Tell me it’s my ass. I really work hard to stay fit and all.”

This time she growled at me and stomped off to what must have been the bedroom.

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