Page 18 of Stitches

I did. You mad?

Yes.

I smirked. Of course Mirage was mad. He thought she was his first, but really, she was mine since I called dibs.

Childish, but effective.

Church was the first to notice us. His green eyes narrowed in our direction.

He’ll come this way. I know he will. . . He can’t resist.

I grinned when they made their way over.

I was always right. What a fucking gift.

Or curse.

I rolled my eyes at the familiar voice inside my head and looked over to see Sin had straightened and was fidgeting with his tie as the watchers made their way over to us.

When they reached us, it was plain to see that my sweet forever girl was trembling as she dug her nails into Church’s arm, her gaze darting from Sin. Church pushed her behind him, shielding her from us.

That pissed me off.

I’d anticipated it though.

I unclenched my jaw and plastered a smile on my face.

“Dante. Malachi. Asher. Good morning.” I broadened my smile at them as they glared back. I didn’t let it deter me. “And my sweet firefly. How are you?”

I watched her duck her head. Judging by the way Church’s shirt moved, she’d twisted her fingers into it and was now using him as her shield.

Disappointment surged through me. I thought we’d mended all those fucking fences, but I guessed I was wrong.

“I see you survived.” Church focused his attention on Sin. “How. . .unfortunate.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Sin muttered.

“So you two are friends now?” Church’s voice came out in a harsh bark, his green eyes narrowed at Sin.“Pathetic.”

Sin said nothing, which didn’t surprise me.

I raised my brows at Church. “I beg to disagree, Dante. I think I’m a rather fun guy, voices aside and all that.”

“You’re a whack job,” Ashes said.

I shrugged. “Sometimes. That’s neither here nor there. I just don’t think name-calling is the way to start out the morning. Let’s begin again. Good morning, Dante. Asher. Malachi. And. . .Sirena.”

I expected tohearher, but there was only silence.

That pissed me off. We didn’t fuck just for her to recoil and ignore my existence. I ground my teeth and stepped forward.

“Sirena,” I called out again.

“Don’t fucking talk to her,” Church said, closing the distance between us. “She’s made her choice.”

I snapped my attention to him.

“Oh, Dante, precious littlesladkiy d’yavol.”

---