Page 57 of Sinful Seduction
“Cato’s probably at home right now.” Quietly sniffling, Minka rests her chin on their joined hands. “Doing inappropriate things to a woman entirely outside of his age range. Because that’s how he copes with stressful situations. But he’s going to be okay. He’s not mad at you.”
“Like I said,” Steve mumbles, already halfway back to unconsciousness. “He’s a good boy.”
“Doctor Raquel—you know her, right?—well, she asked Aubree fortwoplus ones to the wedding this weekend. Which means we’re probably finally going to meet this dude, right?Taylor.” She tests the name on her tongue, rolling each syllable past her lips. “Aubree said his name today like I was supposed to know it already. Like we’d met or something. LikeI’mthe idiot for not remembering. But I’m not an idiot. She’s never said his name before, right?”
Fuck knows, he’s already out.
“Raquel wants to bring Taylor to the wedding, but her baby sister, Eliza, will be in town, too. So she’s bringing both. And, oh God,” she snickers, watery and sad. “Cato already hit on Eliza once. She slammed him. Like, literally to the ground. She had her foot on his throat because she’s a fighter. One of those professional ones. And he’s so messed up, he asked her to do it again. Which is just so…” She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head side to side. “He’s so weird. He had a shitty dad, and then he had Felix. And Felix is a decent guy… ya know, compared to Satan. But he’s erratic and impulsive and obnoxious, so although he was the best thing Cato was ever going to get as far as a father figure, he was still not exactly the best guy for the job if we wanted a normal, humble, non-weird human at the end. But don’t you see? That’s why he likes you.” She swallows, bowing over their joined hands. “He likes you because you’re quiet and protective. You take care of business, but with none of the drama and fanfare. He had Felix, and he learned so much from him, and now he has you, so he’s learning from you. He’s learning how to be a good, decent man who doesn’t need to announce his entry to every room. You can’t die,” she whimpers, “because he’s not done learning yet. And I… I…”
She needs her dad. But not the one biologically related to her.
“You’re not allowed to die yet.”
MINKA
Relying on people sucks. And I don’t mean relying on your plumber to unblock drains, or relying on a builder to keep your homeup. I don’t mean relying on your Chinese delivery guy to feed you, or your local bartender to provide coffee early every morning.
I mean, relying on another human being to remain in your life… that shit sucks.
Because people die. Some commit suicide. Some simply get married and move clear across the city without even considering the loss you might feel because you’ve come to depend on their presence next door. And some wind up in the hospital with clogged arteries and too many birthdays on the wrong side of the calendar.
Steve is okay… today. But he won’t be around forever.
“We can’t move him intoourapartment, because there’s not enough room. But we can’t leave him inhisapartment either. He’ll need around-the-clock care, because eventually…”
Archer tugs me up the stairs inside our building, one slow step at a time, while my knee struggles and we both pretend not to notice the impediment. “We’ll get him a nurse. A hot one,” he jokes. “One with a giant rack and big, blonde hair. She’ll check his blood pressure, and then she’llcheck his blood pressure.” He flashes a wide, taunting grin. “He’ll love us for it.”
“She sounds exactly like your type.” I harrumph and make my way up another stair. “You like them blonde and tit-a-licious, huh?”
“And you like to pick fights, since arguing is better than crying.” He takes my weight and helps me move faster. “I’m sweating like a nun locked in a room full of cucumbers, Mayet. This summer is fuckin’ ridiculous.”
“Wait…” The heat is making my brain slow. Or maybe that’s my exhaustion and thinking about Steve. Pausing on the second-to-last stair, I blink, blink, blink, and shake my head. “What did you say about cucumbers?”
He chokes out a laugh and lifts me straight off my feet, setting me down again on the fourth floor of our dumb four-floor walk-up. “Do wehaveto argue tonight?” He hooks his arm across my back, cinching me close and taking most of my weight. “I know you’re stressed, and, fuck knows, we’re tired. But can we bang instead of bicker?”
“You’re a pig.”
“Loud. Shouting. Panting. It’s basically the same damn thing. Can’t we direct our energies in a more positive, pleasurable way instead?”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious!” He takes out his keys and slips one into the lock, turning the handle and pushing the door open. “If we’re gonna get our heart rates racing, why can’t we just?—”
I get only as far as the threshold before Archer’s arm comes across, barring my way like a steel-constructed seatbelt. But that doesn’t stop me from meeting Cato’s eyes. It doesn’t stop me from cataloging the sweat on his brow. Or worse, the harsh expression of the woman he pounds from behind, her long dirty-blonde hair fisted and tangled around his wrist.
“Dammit, Cato!” Archer startles the poor woman out of her trance and up like a freakin’ meerkat in the wild. But Cato continues to ride her, unfazed by his audience and not at all ashamed. “I’m going to kill you, you little fucker!” Archer shoves me back and attempts to stalk forward, like he intends to lock me out and commit a crime behind closed doors. But I stumble forward, laughter bouncing through my chest and along my throat. “You stay outside!” he growls, trying, but failing, to detangle my grabbing hands. “He’s lived a good, long life. It’s done now.”
“You ruined it.” Cato pulls out of his… uh… companion… with a fast slide and an easy flip of the waistband of his shorts, covering himself up without showing even an iota of skin.
Well, except for his exposed chest, that is.
“You couldn’t stay gone for five more minutes?” He releases the woman onto my couch, allowing her a moment of privacy while she dresses. “I was nearly done, you prick.”
“Me? A prick?” Archer’s eyes go wild, his pupils expanding and his brows shooting high on his forehead. “Me? I’m the prick?”
“Get up and get out.” I toss his hand and cross my apartment, picking up a single high heel—doesn’t belong to me—then the second when I find it peeking out from beneath the couch. I stand over the woman who iseasilymy age, maybe even older, and while she hurriedly shrugs her dress back on and contorts in awkward angles to fasten the tie at the back, I allow her shoes to dangle off my pointed fingers. “He’s a child, just so you’re aware. And you’re a grown-ass woman.” I hook a thumb in Archer’s direction.It’s possible he’s suffering a mental breakdown.“He’s a cop. Not only that, but that cop is his,” I point to Cato again, “brother. Cato is not actually mentally capable of consenting to sex, not since that tragic case of viral encephalitis he contracted a while back.”
“Encephalitis?” Cato blusters. “The fuck are you?—”
