Page 21 of The Wayward Sons & The Vampires of Fortune
“Use the alias Taye Quick,” I told him. Hopefully, it’d make him laugh a little. “And Twizzlers. And Taylor Swift.”
“Do I want to know?” Even as he asked, he typed out a message on his phone.
“You don’t get to know,” I said.
“Okay.”
“Now what?”
“Well, that depends on how you want to spend the next thirty-six hours or so, Gray,” Sam said, and I frowned.What the hell did that mean?“Me? I’m going to make something because I’m hungry.”
“You’re hungry?” I repeated, slightly annoyed.
“When was the last time you ate?” he asked. I opened my mouth, but he added quickly, “Something that wasn’t coffee.”
He waited, and I just glared at him.
“Exactly. I’ll make us something to eat.” Fuck him and his weird need to feed me. Ex-boyfriends weren’t supposed to do that.Especially not after you punched them.“And while I do that, we’re going to talk.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know, Gray, what about life? It’s been nineteen years.”
“You want to sit around and talk about our fuckin’ lives?”What the hell was he on?“You’re crazy, y’know that?”
“Maybe.” Sam shrugged. He busied himself with pulling food out of the fridge.Of course, he’d stocked the house.Granted, this level of preparedness was something I didn’t expect from him. His brother, maybe, but not him. “I get that you’re mad. I’m not saying you can’t be mad at me, but I refuse to spend the next few days fighting you.”
Damn it, I wanted to fight something.
CHAPTER 15
Damn it. The man was good at cooking. I wanted to be mad about that but the food was so good that it was impossible. Though, I wasn’t used to homemade food either. We didn’t do a lot of that ever.
“I’ll take it that you like it.” Sam chuckled from across the table.
“Shut up,” I muttered through a mouthful of food.Did I feel guilty for sitting around and letting my ex-boyfriend feed me? A little bit.But his agent friend—a weird fucking statement—had been able to convince the local police to put Ryder in an interrogation room rather than a cell. Sure, he was shackled to a goddamn table, but he was in the middle of the building without being stuck with cellmates. Watching him physically relax a little on a new video feed helped ease my anxiety. It didn’t solve the situation, but we were headed in the right direction. “It’s been a while since I had anythin’ that wasn’t bought from a place.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine you’re cooking on the road,” he said. “Why didn’t you ever settle down? Not saying you had to stay in Texas—”
“Fuck that,” I grumbled. Texas was the last place I’d ever stay. No, if Ryder and I did ever settle down, it’d be somewhere on the coast. Someplace small and ours. Somewhere far away from fucking Texas.
“—but you could have found somewhere new,” he finished, ignoring me.
“And be like you?” I shot back. My gaze flicked to the wedding ring on his finger.Yeah, I’d noticed it.I’d been too riled up to say shit about it sooner. “Is your wife good with you bein’ here?”
I knew I was assuming a lot by saying wife. He could’ve married a guy for all I knew. It wasn’t like I cared one way or another.
“She would’ve had a lot to say about it,” Sam replied quietly. I noticed the past tense real quick. “I’m widowed.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s been nineteen years, Gray. You don’t know a damn thing about my life.”
“True. I’m still sorry.” And then, for some reason I’d never be able to explain, I asked a genuine question that opened a door between us. Maybe it was how the sadness in his expression inexplicably did something to my heart, or maybe I was just a moron. Who knew? “What was she like?”
“She was incredible,” Sam told me after a long moment. “Smart, talented, kind… out of my league.”
“Hunter?” I asked.
