Page 78 of Tell Me Why
As I watch him move around the room, my thoughts drift to the way he dealt with the pregnancy scare, his steady voice cutting through my panic. His calm confidence stirs something raw and vulnerable in me.
God, my head is a mess right now.
There’s a part of my brain that wants to pull him back into bed and straddle him again. Meanwhile, the other, more logical part is screaming to run as far away from Christian West as possible.
Rush House was supposed to be a temporary blip on my map, not...whatever the hell this is becoming. My brother, the blackmail—that’s what matters. That’s what I came here for. Not these messy, complicated feelings. Definitely not Christian looking at me like that.
I seriously need to pull myself together before I do something insane like beg him to stay.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” He leans forward and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Be good. Don’t leave this room. Lock the door.”
“Oh, right. Because someone in the house is trying to kill me.” I flash him a bright smile. “How could I forget?”
Just another reminder that I don’t belong here.
Focus on the plan, Eve.
I need to find Skye.
The ceremony is tonight, and she has the keys. Hopefully, she was able to find out which building they open. Otherwise…fuck, I don’t know.
When the door clicks shut behind Christian, I launch to my feet and throw something on, the first and easiest thing I can find—underwear and a cotton sundress. Then I creep down the back staircase to the kitchen.
Just as my toe touches the cold marble tiles, I nearly collide with a wall of muscle. With a sharp breath, I reel back and catch myself on the banister.
“Damn, girl.” It’s Cash, just coming up from the basement. We’re alone in the kitchen, and he’s wiping the blood off his hands with a rag. “If you wanted a feel, all you had to do was ask.”
I make a disgusted sound. “Gross,” I scoff, my gaze flicking over him. There’s something wild about how his tattooed hands are literally dripping blood while the rest of him looks like he just stepped out of a luxury brand commercial. It’s disturbing. “Hand getting tired?” I ask snidely.
Fuck, I hate him.
He laughs, the sound smooth and rich. “Just another hard day at work,” he says. “But I’m making progress. The asshole downstairs is so close to cracking, it makes my dick hard.”
“Great,” I say flatly. Hopefully, the guy has a face left when Cash is done.
He shoves the rag into his pocket. “Your boyfriend should be proud—these guysreallydon’t want to talk. The Sacred Sons have some very loyal minions.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I correct. “And they’re members, not minions.”
I can’t believe I’m actually defending the Burning Crown, but for the most part, the members are cool. It’s their ego-centric leaders that are the problem.
He shrugs and flashes me that perfect smile. “Same thing.”
I step around him and head for the hallway. “You’re anactualmonster, Cash, you know that?”
“Birds of a feather, baby,” he laughs as I walk away. “Birds of a feather.”
Shaking my head, I move down the hall to the living room. If Skye is here, that’s where I’ll find her. As I approach, I slow down and peek around the doorframe first. The absolute last thing I need right now is to walk straight into Christian after he just told me to stay put. I quickly scan the room, and there’s no sign of him, thankfully.
But I do spot Skye. She’s sitting on the floor, cross-legged in front of someone, holding a wooden box in her hands. It must be some kind of game, because it has a green felt bottom and a row of little numbered tiles from 1 to 12 across the top.
The girl across from Skye grabs a pair of dice and rolls them. As the dice hit the felt, they both scream, “Ohhhh!” then burst out laughing.
“Skye,” I say, approaching from behind her. She doesn’t hear me. “Hey. Skye!”
Still laughing, she twists around, and when her eyes land on me, her laughter fades away. “Oh, Eve! Hey.” Something unreadable crosses her face before she quickly recovers, handing the box to the girl. She gets to her feet and stands in front of me. “I, um, havethe thingyou need.”
“Okay, let’s talk in the other room,” I say quietly.
