Page 39 of Cruelly Fated
“He’s one of the gang leaders.”
Her pupils widened, twin lavender irises swirling with alarm.
“What did you expect?” I said with a half-laugh. “I wouldn’t leave Pete in the care of a minion. I have to aim for the top. The worst of the worst.”
She swallowed. “Are you sure he’ll be safe with this…guy?”
“Yes,” I said, voice flat and confident, leaving no room for doubt. She needed to feel that.Knowthat. I wasn’t playing games with her grandfather’s life.
She exhaled, the tension bleeding from her body. Just like that, she relaxed against me. No more questions. Just quiet, steady trust that wrecked something in me.
“But I think you should look into moving him to a less violent prison. My lawyer can help with that if you’d like?”
Her other hand squeezed my bicep. “That’s possible? I mean—yes. Of course, I want to move him. I’ll cover your lawyer’s expenses.”
I opened my mouth to argue but stopped when I caught the steel in her eyes. She wasn’t offering, she was standing her ground. So I nodded instead. “Deal. As soon as I’m out, my lawyer will start working on Pete’s case.”
“Grandpa told me what you did…in the mess hall,” she said, a little hesitantly.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“No,” she was quick to say. “But I worry that gang will come after you now. Isn’t that how it works—eye for an eye, or whatever?”
I laughed. “They’re welcome to try. I’m not afraid of any of them. Or all of them.” I let my gaze linger on her flushed face. “There’s only one thing I’ve been afraid of lately.”
Her expression softened. “What is it?”
I reached up and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. She’d braided her hair again, but the tendrils kept escaping—taunting me like they knew exactly what they were doing.
“Not seeing you once I get out,” I said.
She gulped and dropped her gaze like she was wrestling with herself. I couldn’t blame her. I was a walking complication—dragon shifter, son of a ruthless high fae, and currently number one on every gang’s shit list.
But then she peered at me through her lashes, and I stilled, unsure of her response.
“Then don’t let that happen,” she whispered.
I grinned before I could contain my response. Damn, I hadn’t felt this kind of giddy rush since second grade when my crush agreed to slow dance with me at the school dance.
I threaded our fingers together.
“I’ll take you on a date,” I said. “Where should we go?” I meant it. Whatever she liked, I’d do it. I’d learn everything about her—what made her laugh, what made her light up. For the first time, the idea of doing something that had nothing to do with muscle work, territory, or my father felt…right. Exhilarating even.
“You date?” she asked, a little teasing in her tone.
“Not in the traditional sense. I’ve never asked anyone out the way you’d expect. Or the way you deserve.”
Color bloomed across her cheeks, and I frowned, wondering if I said too much.
“I…haven’t dated…much,” she said. “Before Mom died, my life revolved around high school, parties, hookups, drama. Nothing real.”
“No boyfriend?” Pete had told there were none but I wanted to hear her sayit.
She bit her lip and gave another shake of her head. My chest rumbled with a low growl I barely held back. Was she…a virgin?
“Do you have any experience?” I asked, voice rougher than I meant it to be.
She blanched. “Oh, that? Yes. Hookups, remember? But I’ve never dated. And I finished high school online after…” Her voice faded, the rest of the sentence swallowed by painful past.
