Page 11 of Wild Angel

“Yeah, and I’d prefer you weren’t here at all, but we all got to deal with shit we don’t like, right?”

I slowly turn to face Vito, cocking my head to the side. “We got a problem?”

Vito sucks on his cigarette. “You sound surprised.”

It’s quiet up here. Surprisingly so. I guess they have some kind of soundproofing in the walls. The beat is there—dull, insistent vibrations you can feel when you touch the windows—but nothing else. It’s like we’re underwater.

I open my mouth, but Vito turns and regards me with slitted eyes and his mouth in a severe line.

“I don’t like you,” he says.

“Well fuck you too.”

His smile is grim. “And Savage doesn’t either.”

“Now I know that’s a lie,” I tell him. “You’re just jealous that he’s sweet on me.”

Vito huffs. “You don’t know anything about him. Not a single thing.” He pokes a finger toward me. “You might think you do, but it’s all bullshit.” His eyes rake down me, dismissing my hair, my dress, my shoes. “You’rebullshit.”

My mouth opens, but I have no idea what the fuck to say to him.

“And while I’m sympathetic about you losing your sisters—”

“Losingthem?” I totter forward, not as used to high heels as I am to my boots. “Fuck you!”

He carries on as if I haven’t even spoken. “—you chose the thug life. It didn’t choose you.”

“The thug—” I cut off with a splutter. “Are you even Colombian?”

Vito grins like a shark. “Born on US soil, babe.”

I walk right up to him, a fist under his nose. “Call me babe one more—”

“Leave you alone for two minutes and you’re threatening to punch him already?” Savage calls from the door. “You do realize we’re trying to help, right?”

What is it with these idiots and their rhetorical questions?

“You know what? Fuck it.” I throw up my hands and storm toward the door on tottering heels. “And fuck you. I’ll find them myself.”

Savage sets a tray of cups down on the sideboard near the door, turning and catching my arm as I stride past. For a second, I consider fighting him, but honestly, I’m too exhausted. Mentally, physically—I’m utterly wiped out.

So when he pulls me gently to the side, turning me to face him, I let him. And when he closes the distance between us like he’s about to kiss me, I don’t try to knee him in the groin.

I mean, I could have. I definitelyshouldhave.

But I don’t.

I let him come to me, and I let him wrap his muscular arms around me, and I let him hold me so tight that it feels like I’d fall to pieces if he were ever to let me go.

“Stop fighting me, Nyx,” he murmurs into my hair. “For once…stop fighting.”

I should have told him it was Vito picking a fight with me, but I don’t. This moment is too glorious. I lean into him, and he tightens his grip even more. “Okay,” I mumble.

“We good?” he asks, slowly taking away his arms as if he also doesn’t want to let go.

I nod. Then I look past him to the tray. “What did you get me?”

I need a pick me up, that’s for sure. My mind is barely functional right now.

---