Page 11 of Sugar Coated

No. I wouldn’t think about all the possibilities that could’ve happened if I didn’t reach her in time. The thoughts were moot. Fang and I had teamed up and gotten her out safely. That’s all that mattered.

I had to keep reminding myself of that as I drove to Fang’s.

I also had to keep telling myself that it didn’t matter that she’d been alone with Fang for the last few hours. She was just a job. Just someone I needed to keep safe.

Just a girl who knew what buttons to press on me to rile me up. To tease me. To tempt me.

That last one especially.

Finally, after what felt like the longest drive of my life, I pulled into the alleyway near Fang’s building, and I got out, slamming my car door perhaps a bit too hard. I texted Fang that I was outside, and while I waited for him to come unlock the door and let me in, I checked the asshole in my trunk.

Still passed out, thankfully. I’d hog-tied him, so his wrists and his ankles were fastened together behind his back. Should he awaken while I was up in Fang’s loft, he wouldn’t be able to do a single thing.

I shut my trunk the same moment Fang appeared at the door, holding it open for me with an easy smile on his face, his silver fangs flashing in the lone light resting above the door. “Hey, big guy. Was wondering how long it’d take you. Come on in.”

As if I needed to wait for an invitation.

I held back any comments I might’ve had as I pushed past him and immediately turned onto the stairwell. My feet hit the landing between the ground and second floors when Fang added, “Our girl’s asleep.”

Hearing him say that made me stop in my tracks, and I tossed a glare at him over my shoulder, noting he wore dark sweats and nothing else. No shoes, no shirt, and based on how low those sweats hung on his hips, I’d say nothing underneath them, either.

I decided not to address his current clothing situation as I continued up the stairwell, though I did say, “She’s not our girl.”

His reply came swiftly as he walked around me to lead the way, “She’s not? Then what is she?” Whether or not Fang was genuinely curious as to the answer of those questions, I didn’t care. Right now, all I cared about was making sure she was all right.

Fang lived on the top floor of the building; I knew his workshop took up the first floor. I had no idea what took up the middle floors, if he used them for storage or what. Didn’t care enough to ask. I’d never dealt with Fang until recently. Sylvester and Lola were his contacts. I did know he’d helped us out when the Bloody Princess was trying to take over, so he was trustworthy.

That said, being trustworthy didn’t automatically mean I was okay with him spending hours alone with Laina.

After going up the stairs, Fang stopped us before the door that opened up to his place. He gave me a look I couldn’t decipher and said, “If you’re going to wake her up, just do it gently. It took a lot of work to get her tired enough to doze off.” Another smirk at that, or rather, at the implication.

Jealous, furious thoughts surfaced in my head. Was he trying to say they had sex? Was this Fang’s way of rubbing it in my face, or was he really just saying it because he didn’t want me to interrupt Laina’s sleep?

Either way, it shouldn’t matter. Laina was a job and she needed to know she fucked up by sneaking out. I’d gladly wake her ass up to yell at her if I had to.

I narrowed my eyes at Fang. “Why don’t you give us some time alone? Go do… whatever it is you do.”

Fang didn’t seem bothered at all by my firm suggestion. “Sure, sure. I’ll make myself scarce if it’ll make you more comfortable, Mike.”

I had the feeling he was ready to say more, so I didn’t give him the chance to. I pushed past him and walked into his place.Fang must’ve caught the door behind me, because it didn’t slam shut; it closed quietly, hardly making a sound.

A lone light was on in the wide-open space. The top floor of the building was apparently a single room. From where I was, you could see the kitchen area all the way to the left, a living room space in the middle, and his bedroom on the right side—where Laina was currently curled up in his sheets, sleeping soundly.

My legs took me toward the bed, and soon enough I stood beside it, gazing down at her peaceful face. Thanks to the single lamp on in the living room area, there was enough light for me to see a bruise forming on her cheek, and something in me got all knotted up when I imagined someone lifting a hand to her.

However many bullets I put into that asshole, it wasn’t enough.

Slowly, I sat down on the edge of the bed, and though I didn’t say a word, it was enough movement to stir Laina. She rolled over, onto her back, and her eyelids cracked open just a hair. Once she realized it was me, they opened all the way—and were accompanied by a yawn.

“Mike.” The way her half-asleep voice spoke my name filled me with a warmth that took every ounce of restraint in me to ignore.

All I did was stare down at her, my jaw set. My hands were on my lap, palms on my knees. If I didn’t keep them there, I might’ve been tempted to put them on her… and I already knew what a bad idea that was.

That night… honestly, I didn’t know what had gotten into me. It was like something else had taken over, killed my inhibitions, and let me dive deep into Laina—though not quite as deep as I’d wanted.

When I didn’t say a single word back to her, Laina slowly sat up. Though I tried not to notice, it was impossible not to see theway her chest pressed against the fabric of the black t-shirt she wore—Fang’s, it must be—telling me she didn’t wear anything underneath it.

She yawned and wiped her messy pink and blue hair out of her face, and when she brought those unnaturally pink eyes to me, I could tell she knew I was upset with her.

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