Page 78 of Lovely Venom
“What’s got your knickers up your arse?” Trace asks me with one eyebrow raised.
“Nothing.” I push out of the booth and straighten my suit jacket. “I’m going home.”
I have no idea why I get dressed up to come here, other than I don’t want to look like a slob next to Shane and Trace, who are in a contest to see who can buy the most expensive suits.
“My wife’s party is still going on upstairs.” Trace raises his chin to locate Shea-Lynne on the VIP balcony.
She’s an event planner and uses Luxe regularly for her high-end clients.
“What do you have to go home to?” Shane asks me, sounding concerned.
Or is he trying to trick me?
If I’m lucky, I’ll be going home to the barrel of Raina’s gun or the tip of her knife. I’ll take a bullet and get stitches at this point, I’m dying to fuck her so bad. It was one thing when I thought she was a ghost, one of those perfect aberrations that are just too goddamn to be true.
No, she’s real. And still a fucking mess.
Mymess.
“I don’t answer to you, little brother.”
Shane’s face changes being called little. He’s as tall as I am, but he’s technically the youngest Quinlan from Da’s line. He and Sabine are twins, but she came out first.
“Night, lads.” I walk away with my head held high because I answer to no one.
Okay, I answer Griffin, but he’s not here.
Blade and Jett follow me out of Luxe. There’s a rhythm to their souls I’ve come to recognize behind me. I let them drive me here every night in Blade’s Denali.
“Front or back?” Blade asks which entrance of my place I want.
“My apartment. The chamber is clean.”
“Until tomorrow.” Jett cups Blade’s shoulder, sitting next to him, and Blade goes stock still.
Like he thinks I don’t know they’re fucking. We send them on assignments together, and Shane mentioned that they only return receipts for one hotel room.
Intriguing, but I have my own fucking love life to worry about.
Blade lets a car in the opposite direction pass and then makes a U-turn to drop me off. “Here you go, boss.”
I get out of the Blade’s Denali and bang on the roof to signal that all looks safe. From the street, my place looks haunted. Overgrown trees and broken, mismatchedpaving stones lead to my front door. When I unlock it, my muscles tighten.
Something’s off.
I smell her before I see her. That cinnamon apple shampoo is fucking unmistakable. Something wild and feral curls low in my gut.
I step inside and toss my keys into a bowl on a console table next to the front door.
And there she is.
Raina.
Waiting in the shadows with that custom 9mm raised. Her eyes are lit like a flame on the verge of blazing out of control. Like she’s been sitting here wrestling the devil in her head and finally picked a side.
Her voice is ice. “You’re late.”
I smile into the darkness. “Didn’t know you were here waiting for me, love.”
