Page 24 of Facet

“For the hundredth time, yes.”

“I never saw anyone that matched his description,” Sabre concurred.

“Fine. So, I, uh, drove my cage,” Facet told me without making eye contact. My gaze trailed over him, making a belated note of his missing cut.

Disappointed, I stuck out my bottom lip.

With a cocky grin, he flicked it with his finger.

I went and clocked out, then grabbed my bag from the office. No sense in wasting time changing when we weren’t on the bike.

As we stepped out of the front doors, he caught my hand and gently spun me into his arms. He was so tall compared to me that I had to tip my head back to look at him. He dropped his head to nuzzle my nose with his.

“Is this weird?” I asked.

He tipped his head in question.

“I mean, I feel like we’ve been together forever, yet it’s only been a few days.”

“About that… I think there are some things you need to know.” His eyes were dark as graphite, but that flicker of silver that I always thought I imagined, sizzled in his gaze.

Trepidation burned through my veins, and I was bracing myself for the worst. “O-O-kay?”

When we approached his truck, I saw that his mom was standing beside it smoking a joint and a dude that almost made Facet look small stood by her with his arms crossed. The shadows he stood in obscured most of his features, but his scowl looked familiar—more than familiar. I stopped mid-stride as he turned toward us, and the parking lot light illuminated his face.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to tell you. Evidently, that’s my father—Séamus.”

“Ho-ly shit.” Facet looked so much like his father it was scary.

“Yeah.”

“We’ll explain everything on the way back to the clubhouse.”

After helping me into the passenger seat, Facet got behind the wheel. His parents got in back. The tension coming from them was almost palpable. The clouds in the night sky ominously thickened and obscured the stars.

As we pulled out, I thought I saw a form in the darkest edges of the lot, but lightning flashed overhead and no one was there. My heart fluttered in relief, and I told myself I was imagining things.

“I’m not sure exactly where to start,” Facet began.

“You said your mom might be able to find my family.” I turned sideways in my seat to watch him as he spoke.

He took a deep breath and let it out very slowly.

“Maybe. But on a different subject, there’s actually something going on with me that you need to know,” his voice seemed to rumble with the thunder that shook the very earth we drove on.

I cast a nervous glance into the back seat at the two silent passengers. They each sat staring out of their own window. Then I dropped my attention to my water bottle, wondering if I’d filled it with vodka instead of water.

“This is so fucked,” he muttered. My heart clenched painfully, wondering if he had found out something terrible about my biological family.

“Damien,” his mother finally chastised from behind us. I peeked at her from under the headrest. I wanted to give her a piece of my mind for keeping her son and his father apart. Instead, I bit my tongue. Maybe she had a good reason. Like maybe the guy was a whack-job—not comforting since he sat in the back seat of Damien’s truck.

“Do I need to tell her? Because you are taking forever,” Séamus grumbled from behind Facet. Damien. Hell, I didn’t know what to call him now. No one called him anything but Facet, but he had told me when we were alone, I could call him what I wished. Therefore, in my head, I would call him Damien.

“Shut up,” Damien’s mom snapped.

“Um, whatisyour name?” I asked her. I was tired of thinking of her as “Facet’s mom” or “Damien’s mom.”

“Maeve. I know, my son was terribly remiss in his manners. He should have executed a proper introduction before you went to work.” She beamed at me—such a contrast to her previously surly countenance. It set off warning bells.

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