Page 160 of White Raven
No…don’t go…
“What are you asking me, Ryan?” she gasped, lifting her head to meet her burning stare. “Ask it, or leave me alone. You’re fucking killing me.”
Ryan backed her into the wall…only a few steps away from the car. Her heart was pounding, and Leigh could swear she felt hers too. Their breath mingled, and Ryan’s eyes lowered to her parted mouth. “I know why I feel this way about you. I think I’ve known it for a while. I’ve never considered it before. Didn’t even really want it…but I do now. I came back to Boston to ask you if you love me. Your answer is gonna be the deciding factor on how the rest of this goes. If you want me, then I deliver a parting gift to Rhaena, and I take you away from here. If not, then I leave the gift…and I disappear. For good.”
Leigh panted and pulled Ryan’s jacket down her shoulders. “If I tell you the truth…I get all of you, Ryan. No more secrets. No more bullshit. No more disappearing acts. If I do it, you gotta swear you’re not hanging my ass out to dry again.”
“I swear it,” Ryan whispered against her mouth.
“Then I fucking love you.” She ripped the red coat down and tossed it to the ground as their mouths crushed together. Their hands were everywhere, and something felt like it snapped in her middle. Ryan flinched too, and a rush of every single kind of emotion flooded her veins. The next thing she knew, she’d been picked up by the thighs, and she coiled them around Ryan’s body as she took her to the car, laying her down in the back seat.
That door slammed shut, and as far as they were concerned, the rest of the world could go fuck itself…the decision for their future had been made, and that final staple was happening…
Right fucking now.
CHAPTER 32
ALPHA
Plastic was laid out over the kitchen island, and Wren sat cross-legged on top of the counter, bent over a ceramic urn that she was meticulously painting, and swatting at a curious Denver, who had already left a dark green paw print on the back. Sarah spooned ice cream into her mouth as she leaned over the side of the counter, watching.
“Red,come on…” Brent said as he hopped off the last step of the stairs behind her. “Why is his fat ass on the clean kitchen counter? I know damned well he couldn’t have hopped up there himself.”
Wren held up a finger. “Strike one, Stratford.” Sarah chuckled and pulled the spoon from her mouth. “Spoon me, bitch,” she said, opening her mouth as Sarah shoveled some into it.
Brent snorted, and shook his head as he opened the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of water. “I know you need an outlet, but isn’t that why God made me?”
Wren scoffed, licking ice cream from her lip as she continued to paint. “No. That’s why God made Cherry Garcia…and fluffy cats.”
“Babe…he’s not fluffy. He’s—”
“Strike two!”
Sarah giggled, and pulled Denver off the counter, cradling him as he batted her nose. Athan was sitting on Brent’s couch, stoic and quiet as he stared at three plastic garment bags hanging from the coat rack on the wall by the front door. They’d agreed to spread half of Nell’s ashes, and Wren would make hera special urn for the rest. She’d be the most important piece in the new shop. History would never forget this woman. Wren watched Sarah slide in next to him, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t shocked to see Athan Kane reach out and pet Denver. He looked over as Brent laid his chin over the back of Wren’s shoulder.
“Your guy’s good, Stratford. How much do we owe you?” Athan asked.
“Not a dime,” Brent smiled. “I hope you three only have to wear those this once…and never again. But they should sparkle. My suit man is the best in Boston.”
“Cringe, Brent…but I’ll let it slide. Three strikes in less than ten minutes is really bad fucking form.” Wren slid a paint-stained hand over her shoulder and stroked his face as he nuzzled into her neck.
“Looks good,” he breathed, kissing her cheek. Her phone buzzed next to her on the counter, and they both looked down at it. Brent tensed, and it took her a second to understand why. A heavily-tattooed man that looked polar opposite of Brent, and a very fitting ringtone that reflected her disposition towards somebody thatcouldhave been an ex-fling. “Who isDom?” he asked…with a tone. Wren snickered, and met eyes with Sarah, who was suddenly very interested.
“Oh, put that shit on speaker. I wanna hear this,” she laughed.
“Would you mind?” Wren said, smiling at Brent as she wiggled painted fingers. He swiped the call open for her, and turned on the speaker, listening like he’d pommel whoever was on the other end. Jealousy on Brent was starting to be a little better color. It did something to her insides.
“Yes, I’m doing great. Thanks for asking. No, I don’t miss you. Will I return to your shithole tattoo shop…also, no.”
“Oh, we’re way past that notion, Vintorri. You cost me eight loyal clients, and now my counter girl. Or are you gonna tell me that wasn’t you?”
Wren smirked as she wiped her hands on a wet towel. Brent nodded, she supposed, because he just figured out who Dom was. “Well…if they left, then I’m assuming you’ve already figured out they weren’t loyal toyou. And yes…I guess in a way, I did. Although Leigh’s been a little less than happy to be there since way before you fired me. You’re such a self-righteous asshole, Dominic. Why are you calling me?”
“You’d be nameless if it wasn’t for this apprenticeship, and you know it.”Brent’s fists clenched against the counter, and Wren laid a hand over one of them.
“Keep telling yourself that. It doesn’t answer my question.”
“I’m calling, because I thought you’d like to know she packed her shit today and left me with a ton of work I don’t have time to do. I don’t know why I fucking care, but I figured you would. That box of said shit? I found it in the middle of the back alley where she normally parks her car. You apparently have a knack for landing yourself in trouble. Didn’t smell right to me. I don’t think Leigh would pack it up just to leave it out back. Especially not those stupid-ass headphones.”
