Page 25 of Catalyst

I stood a little straighter as I tried to processthis.

“I–I’m hungry, so I’m making lunch. I was seeing if you–”

“Go sit. I’ll cook.”

He gently moved me so he could exit the room. I loved Kane’s desire to take care of me; it made me feel special. But, I didn’t like his thoughts. Right now, his mind was full of how fragile he thought I was. Which, to put it lightly, was insulting.

“No–I enjoy cooking,” I said firmly. “Would you like lunch?”

His dark brows crept toward his hairline, and I liked that he was as taken aback by my shift in demeanor as I was his. But, where I let his attitude roll off my back, Kane’s fuse wasmuchshorter than mine.

“No, you’re not,” he grumbled.

I stared at him, my lips parting as I tried to find the right words, the right argument to tell him I wasn’t made of glass. But something in his eyes caused me to stop.

With our gazes locked, his next thoughts were loud and clear.

I’m shitty with words, but maybe if I just… do enough, she’ll realize I love her without me having to embarrass myself. And then maybe she’ll love me too.

Chapter 8

Jace

The worst part about having a day off was having to work twice as hard to make up for what I lost. Sure, considering the night I missed was spent in the hospital with Callie, it wasn’t exactly like I was fucking off while not fucking around. But I still had to cancel on clients—ones that weren’t exactly thrilled about rescheduling.

I get it. To most people, time was money. Each of my clients was important in their respective fields: doctors, lawyers; I even had a few heroes in the mix. They all paid me to make them feel good, to help them blow off stress. My popularity wasn’t just because I was the hottest whore in town—which I was. It was because I was dependable. And when I had to call off on Saturday of all nights, it was like I’d told a kid I’d postponed Christmas. While my doctor and lawyer clientele would have understood, Saturdays were for the supers. And boy, did I hate fucking heroes.

They were all self-righteous assholes who felt the need to prove they were better than everyone else—especially villains like me. But when the doors were shut, and their spandex suits came off, they were just as needy as everyone else—sometimes worse. Normally, I didn’t work Sundays. I enjoyed having a day off, and it was slower than the rest. But I’d offered it to the clients I missed.

Most jumped on the opportunity and moved on, but my last guy of the day was legitimately the worst human being I’devermet—which was funny considering he was the current top hero at the Aegis Center. TitaniumJustice. More like CaptainLittleDick.

All his sessions were the same. He’d spend the first hour insulting me, calling my career path degrading, insinuating I wasn’t smart enough to do anything else. And while he wasn’t entirely wrong, he didn’t need to say it. Normally, shit like that was a deal breaker for me, but the jackass not only paid well—he paid on time. TJ consistently gave me a solid two grand a month. So, I always swallowed my pride and listened to his sanctimonious bullshit while he complained about having to “stoop to this level” as he unbuckled his belt.

Usually, I could endure his nonsense once a week for two hours. But after I canceled on him, he demanded more time. Something about needing a little extra because he was generous enough to overlook my "disrespect." Fucking dickhead.

By the time I left his apartment, it was way too late—or way too early, depending on how you looked at it. The sun was in that weird stage of rising, where the world became a perfect gradient of blues and oranges. The whole thing would’ve been beautiful if I didn’t feel so…dirty.

But TJ tipped well, and I used the extra money to grab breakfast for Kane and Callie on my way home. It wasn’t a gigantic gesture, but it’d be one less thing for Kane to worryabout today. And, well… after yesterday, I wanted to see Callie smile.

I couldn’t place why or when my animosity shifted, but something in my soul told me I’d feel better if she let me lay beside her again. Maybe it was because she smelled so nice, or perhaps it was how she felt under my arm, but I was beginning to understand everyone’s fascination with Callie Voltaris—even if it was begrudgingly.

When I finally got home, I did my best to open the door as quietly as possible, even while balancing takeout bags. But my efforts were in vain because Kane was already up. Of course, he was; the dude probably didn’t fucking sleep last night.

He sat in the living room, a cup of coffee in hand, his dark gaze fixed on the stray cats in the distance. But it wasn’t like he was actively watching them; it seemed more like he was zoning out.

I cleared my throat before plopping the still-warm bag on his lap. “Breakfast is served.”

Kane jumped as he looked back at me, blinking twice before glancing at the bag. He touched it as if making sure it wasn’t a trap before mumbling a quick thank you. And while my boyfriend was a man of very few words, he seemed quieter than usual.

“What’s wrong? Did they steal your tongue?” I gestured to the now fighting cats just outside the window.

Kane slowly shook his head, not even bothering to laugh at myfantasticjoke. “Something’s wrong with Callie.”

I paused, needing a second to process what he just said. Something about that statement hit me harder than expected,and my brow furrowed as I tried to look confused rather than concerned.

“What do you mean?” I asked slowly.

“Her alarm woke me up this morning,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “So I snuck into the room to ask her to shut it off. She was out cold, covered in a mountain of blankets, and shivering.”

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