Page 83 of Savage Hope

My blush becomes unbearable as Minnie fake gags at her brother, who glares at her, but there’s a softness to his eyes that isn’t usually there when he aims a pointed stare your way.

There’s love between them, that much is for sure.

Bryony can't catch her breath as she giggles along, her humor-filled eyes turning my way. “I think you missed that part,” she says, and I roll my eyes.

“Maybe,” I mutter, dipping my eyes to my lap as I try to conceal the embarrassment as best I can, but I think it's a little bit too late for that.

“What do you mean she missed that part? Have you been talking about me, Midnight?” he asks, and I lift my head to meet his eyes to find his eyebrow cocked in question. “Did you happen to tell them about the part where you were hiding from me?”

“I haven’t been hiding from you,” I reply, the words far more confident than I feel, but it’s the truth. He must not feel the same, though. The scoff he gives confirms it.

“You didn’t give me your name,” he starts, pressing his fingertips together as he starts to count my apparent offenses off on his hand. “You hid your natural hair color, and you acted like you didn’t know me when I spoke to you in combat.”

My heart rate sparks even though his words are calm. I’m under fire, and as much as I want to run and hide away from it, I also feel like I deserve to explain myself.

Clearing my throat, I match his stance, fingers poised, ready to count off my responses back to him. “One, you’re right. I didn’t give you my name, but you were happy not to know it if I recall.”

He shakes his head. “But you knew my name.”

“Yes, I didn’t realize I looked so different with my hair a darker color,” I state, watching as he purses his lips, but I proceed. “Two, technically, I dyed my hair black to have a fresh start, but when I woke the next morning, it was silver again. Thatwasn’t a choice, and I expect the same to happen tomorrow.” He doesn’t say anything to that, he just stares, his brows furrowing slightly. “And three, it’s not my fault you didn’t recognize me when everyone else did.”

“Iasked her not to tell you,” Wylder adds, his hand suddenly on my shoulder as he stands beside me.

I lean back to peer up at him, and the second he has my attention, he winks as he leans down to speak with Minnie. “Is everything okay with Asher?” he asks, nodding toward the guy in question, who's still deep in his phone, while effectively cutting off Lincoln’s tirade.

Asher’s jaw is clenched tight, his eyes crinkled with a mixture of concern and frustration.

Minnie shrugs and shakes her head. “It’s his uncle again,” she says, and that must mean something to Wylder because he hums in agreement. I run my tongue along my bottom lip as I take him in, trying to understand what they know and I don't, but I don't dare ask. It's not my place.

Instead, I accept the shot placed before me at Wylder's direction to a waiter, and the amusement on his face tells me it's tequila. Again. I don't even need to taste it to know. He reaches for my hand, running his tongue over my finger, and I shiver at the contact, but he’s quickly gone, scattering a small line of salt in his wake. I’m left gaping at him as he places a wedge of lime down in front of me before reaching for his own shot glass. My words are lodged in my throat, so I do the only thing I can do, which is clink my glass. I copy his movement, sweeping my tongue over the salt before tossing the liquor back, feeling the familiar burn. It's not as bad this time. It's not amazing, but I'm sure it's still better than the beer everyone keeps warning me about. The second I place my glass down, he reaches for the lime, and I follow suit, biting into the tangy citric fruit with a hiss as the juices coat my tongue.

The song changes in the background. I only notice because it seems to turn up a notch before a squeal comes from Minnie, and she's on her feet, darting toward Lincoln as the first word is sung. As if anticipating her approach, he spins to catch her just in time and the pair of them start to dance. They shake their asses, they laugh, they do some kind of synchronized moves that are a little bit concerning, yet hilarious to watch.

I catch his stare a few times. He offers me nothing but a pinched expression followed by a shake of his head before he looks away. Again, and again, and again. It's only when Wylder takes Minnie’s seat beside me with a chuckle on his lips that I'm aware Lincoln's questionable behavior is noticeable to everyone.

“I think I'm visibly watching him get hot for you, then remind himself you're a virgin,” Wylder whispers against my ear as he squeezes his hand against my thigh, and I grimace. Not from his touch, but from his acknowledgment of Lincoln’s little show.

“You caught that?” I grumble, dipping my face, but he catches my chin and chuckles.

“When it comes to you, it seems I catch everything, Little Witch.”

His words turn me into lava, reminding me of the state he left me in earlier and what he was able to do to my body, and I bite back a groan.

The air shifts slightly when Asher lifts his cell phone to his ear, muttering something into the device before tucking it away in his pocket.

“We need to get ready to leave,” he grumbles, rising from his seat without looking at everyone.

Nobody seems to argue, though. They just stop what they’re doing and start following his order.

Even though I'm slightly disappointed that there's nothing left of the day, I'm barely standing after the opportunities I’ve had the chance to experience.

“I’ll walk you back,” Wylder says, reaching for my hand and tugging me to my feet. Then Tatum suddenly appears in my peripheral vision.

“That's my job.”

It's as if the music has been muted and everyone turns to look our way. I can feel their eyes dart back and forth between Tatum and me as Wylder’s fingers flex against mine.

“Your job?” Wylder asks as I sense Minnie and Lincoln edge closer. Asher remains on the fringe of the group in his own little world, but Tatum's eyes remain set on mine, and I can’t look away.

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