Page 171 of Fractured Future
Head perking up, he stands from where I left him pouting at the deserted dining table. “Oh, goody.”
“Please no,” Warner whimpers in what sounds like genuine fear. “Don’t leave me here, Em.”
“He’s going to look after you.”
“Please! I can’t run away from him right now.”
“That’s good. Let him play nurse for a bit.”
Slapping his hands together when I park Warner up at the edge of the kitchen, Axel appraises his state of casual undress.
“Food first, I think.” He frowns in concentration. “You look a bit peaky, boss. How about a peanut butter sandwich?”
“You know I hate peanut butter, Ax!”
“Aw, shit. But I really fancied one.”
“You don’t need to cook for me.”
“But I do!” Axel declares. “How about a chip sandwich instead? They don’t look appetising, but they sure do taste good.”
Glaring at me with panic overflowing in his eyes, Warner silently pleads for me to rescue him from Axel’s lack of cooking capabilities. I stoop down to press a kiss against his freshly shaven cheek.
“Have fun.”
“You’re so dead, Em!”
“And you’re so welcome!” I shout while walking away. “Happy cooking, boys.”
Leaving them to bicker about sandwiches, I shower and dress as quickly as my tender body will allow. My knuckles sting when I lightly apply cream to the abrasions gained from pummelling Miguel.
It felt good to unleash some of my rage on him, but it wasn’t enough. Knowing that someone else had the pleasure of ending Diego’s life infuriates me. Thankfully, Luis is still alive to face me.
For now.
Pulling on plain black jeans and a basic t-shirt that clings to my toned arms, I work on braiding my wet hair. With Warner out of action and Axel on nursing duty, I’ll have to ask the grump to drive me now that I’m barred.
After putting it off for as long as possible, I head next door to Hyland’s bedroom. The door falls open when I lightly knock, revealing a dark interior.
“Hyland?”
Bathed in tonal shades of blue, his bedroom is a calm paradise of dark-stained wood and luxuriously thick, black curtains. Beyond his truly gigantic sleigh bed, he has a modest sized wardrobe, built-in desk and several floating shelves.
With his back to me, Hyland sits at the desk, bent over something. His headful of loose blonde hair shoots up at my voice, alarm scored across his bearded face.
“I need a ride,” I announce.
“I’m busy.”
Snapping the book clasped in his hands shut, Hyland rises to face me. He keeps the book tucked behind his back, triggering my curiosity.
“What are you doing?”
“Researching a new career,” he snarls.
Strolling into his safe space, I let my fingers trail over the inky-blue linen sheets on his bed. You could easily fit three average-sized people in that monster.
“Come on,” I goad him. “You’d never leave the team.”
