Page 39 of Gray
Galen glared at me. “What are you doing?”
“I put him to bed. Problem?”
Galen stepped closer, rage burning in his stormy gray eyes. “I heard what Phoenix told you. The offer he gave. You considered accepting.”
“You don’t know a damn thing.” When really, he was right. Ihadconsidered it. That’s why I was so irritated.
“I know the pain of loss,” he said, voice gruff. “I know what it can do to you. How desperate you become to rid yourself of it. But everything comes with a price. Remember that. Remember this too. Gray is the best one out of all of us. He’s kindhearted and innocent in ways none of the rest of us will ever be. He’s also trusting. If you hurt him, I swear to all the gods I will tear you limb from limb.”
“Hurting him isn’t my intention. So cut the alpha male shit.”
“Intent changes,” he responded, that storm in his gaze still raging. His gray eyes then darkened, so much so they looked black. His voice was deeper, raspier, as he added, “Step out of line and there will be nothing left once I’m finished with you.”
A man with floppy sandy-brown hair and black-framed glasses approached. He wrapped his arms around Galen’s waist. “Take it easy, big guy.”
He had balls of steel. The Nephilim’s size alone was enough to ward off even the bravest of souls. Add the hatred burning in his eyes, and no one in their right mind would go anywhere near Galen.
But the unexpected happened.
Galen’s entire demeanor changed, and his black eyes faded back to a light gray. He turned his head and pressed his face into the man’s hair.
“I’m Simon,” the man told me. “Nice to meet you.”
“Mason.” I nodded, too shocked to say much more.
“I know you’re probably freaked-out by all this,” Simon said, arms still snug around Galen—who honest to god sounded like he was purring. “I understand what you’re going through.”
“That’s unlikely.”
“A year ago, I didn’t know this world existed. I was just a normal guy running an antique shop. Then everything changed. I was attacked by shades and was, quite literally, on death’s door.” Simon paused when Galen tensed and growled, the sound rumbling in the larger male’s chest. “I’ve been in your shoes. I was brought here too… protective custody as they call it.”
Simon rolled his eyes, but there was nothing but love in his expression as he lightly bumped his forehead to Galen’s. “Anyway. I’m gonna take this one off your hands. His bark is nothing compared to his bite. The bite is much worse.”
He led Galen away.
I returned to my room, trying to process all that had happened. I debated sneaking out of the mansion, hot-wiring one of their cars, and getting the hell out of there. What stopped me? The memory of Gray’s lips and the crinkly-eyed smile he’d flashed me when he was sleepy.
Goddammit.
***
Ghouls didn’t haunt my dreams that night.
What I dreamed still hurt though. For different reasons.
Kinkaid and I were back at base playing cards, something we did to pass the time when we weren’t geared up and burning beneath the scorching Afghanistan heat or breathing in clouds of dust as we patrolled. His brown hair was cropped short, more of a buzz cut, and his lips were chapped from the dry air. Mine weren’t much better off.
There wasn’t enough ChapStick in the world to help in the place we’d dubbed the Devil’s Anus.
“Your turn, asshole,” he said after drawing a card from the stack and tossing it down in the discard pile. We were playing rummy. Kinkaid hated poker. Mainly because he never won. He had the worst poker face ever.
“You’re just pissed because I’m kicking your ass.”
“Shut your ugly face and play.” Kinkaid’s blue eyes lifted to me as a slow smile curved his lips. A smile that went so much deeper. Out of sight from our buddies, he moved his foot closer to mine beneath the small table.
I stretched out my leg and rested the side of my boot against his.
Our secret. One that had him sneaking into my bunk late at night, both of us trying not to be too loud as he rode me beneath the sheets. A secret he took to his grave. Would I take it to mine? Not that it mattered now.
