Page 13 of Obliterated
I don’t even bother to defend myself. “Good thing his face was chewed off then, and nobody noticed. I assume you got rid of the papers?”
Tass lets her boot drop onto the ground and sighs. “Max…”
I toss the whetstone and the cleaver onto the table, grab my smoke again. “What are they gonna do when they find out? Throw me back in the Pit? Good fucking luck with that.”
“They might throw me in with you, since I’m an accomplice now.”
“Good. It’s been a while.”
She holds up three fingers. “I will get three Walkers next time. It’s tricky.”
“They can’t exactly infect you twice. You’ll be fine.”
“I know. But you’ve heard the studies—the more times you get bitten as a Touched one, the quicker it can spread. Let’s try to avoid that, yeah? I still like hanging out with you.” Silence lingers before she adds: “For now.”
The weight of it presses down, the reminder that Tass lives on borrowed time. Day by day, that shadow always hanging over her. I don’t want to think about it, don’t want to picture the end of that line.
So my eyes drift, land where they shouldn’t. On him.
Again.
At least he’s got new clothes now. Not the ratty mess I first saw him in. Still too big on his frame, though. And fuck me if I don’t think Joyeus does that on purpose—making him look smaller, younger, boyish. Drowning him in fabric so people forget the muscle underneath.
My eyes stick to him as he lines up a couple of glasses, pouring cheap wine with steady hands. The irony doesn’t fucking escape me. Whoring out someone underage—that’s a crime and a line even Joyeus can’t cross until the papers say otherwise. But pouring drinks for the same foul bastards who’ll have their hands all over him in a couple of months? That’s fine. That’s business.
And he’s good at it. Too good. Like he’s done this before, sliding the glasses across the counter without spilling a drop, his smile small, practiced enough to make the drunks grin back, giving him extra coin. Fuck, for all I know, hehasdone it before.
I still don’t buy the underage story. Not with the way he carries himself now that the heat’s off him. He’s standing taller, shoulders squared, chin up like he’s been here all his life instead of a couple of weeks.
And godsdamn it, that doesn’t make me stop staring either.
“Just talk to him already, check if he’s fine,” my annoying friend butts in again.
“I already know he’s fine. His name is Kieran, by the way.”
She groans loud enough to turn a few heads. “Max… tell me you didn’t—”
I give her a look, the corner of my mouth pulling. “Third floor. Second to last room on the right. Perfect view from up the wall, easy to scale.”
There are three buildings in Joyeus’ domain: this regular bar, the club, and the Den. Each with five stories stacked above them, rooms for her staff to live, but also for… other endeavors. And in the middle of it all, the old pool, cracked tiles and stagnant water like a graveyard centerpiece.
Tass groans again, shaking her head, the stud in her straight nose blinking under the bar lights. “Godsdamn it, you actually checked. You’re worse than the drunk creeps sniffing around him.”
Yeah. Not going to tell her I stayed in his room for hours the last three nights in a row, leaning against the open balcony door in the dark, just watching him breathe. Not going to tell her how I counted every rise and fall of his chest like I needed proof he’d still be there come morning.
“You sound jealous,” I shoot back, blowing out smoke in her face just to piss her off.
She narrows her green eyes at me, mouth twisting. “If you keep annoying me, I’ll request a new partner. I think Commander Roe would be more than happy to oblige. But I wouldn’t do that to my poor baby.”
“What?” I arch a brow. “You think I care if I have a new partner?”
She smirks, wicked, tucks a lock of dark hair behind her overly pierced ears. “Oh, I didn’t mean you. My poor baby would be your new partner. You’d eat them alive.”
I scoff, drag the last of the cigarette down to the filter, the Ashleaf finally unwinding me somewhat. Smoke burns the backof my throat as I exhale slowly through my nose. “Then maybe Roe should let me.”
Tass tilts her head, grin sharpening. “Yeah, sure. He’d love that. One more name for your body count, only this one with a tag instead of teeth. You’d be back in the Pit, facing nine Walkers, and he’d get to show off his golden boy when you survive. Again.”
I cut her a glare, but she just shrugs, smug as ever.
