Page 4 of The Hate We Breathe
When would she leave? Why would she even want to stay? So, when she’d said all that shit about being passed around by us, about others judging her, I’d believed it. It’s a concern after all. Three men and one woman? That’s not normal.
Now, I don’t give a fuck. We’ve never been normal. Her being ours is the least we deserve. There’s no getting away for any of us now.
As much as I want to follow after her and the guys, I turn my attention to the man still waiting.
Viks stands at the edge of the offshoot of the driveway that leads to Lex’s carriage house, glaring across the long, open space that disappears into the woods that surround the property. He can’t see the main house from here, but I know that’s what he’s glaring at. With a sigh, I approach.
The anger that radiates from him in waves is something I’d forgotten was a normal response to Lex’s living situation.
Neither of us say a word for a long moment. Not until well after the sound of the front door to the carriage house opening and closing echoes into the dark of the night. To my surprise, Viks is the first to break the silence.
“How long?” he demands, and I don’t have to ask to know what he means.
“Couple of years,” I admit. “But they’ve never been particularly close. His aunt isn’t…” I don’t know how to explain the woman. Gemma Stratton has always been a bit of an agoraphobe. I can’t even remember the last time I saw her outside of her house. “She’s a complicated woman,” I say.
Viks shifts on his feet and casts a look in my direction. The control he has over his own features despite the obvious strain of his muscles and the hard note of his voice is impressive. His face is relaxed, and only the dark glimmer of rage in his eyes reveals his true emotions.
“He’s over it,” I tell him. “He moved out here because he didn’t want to bother her.”
“Did she force the issue?” Viks asks.
“No.” What I don’t say is that Lex’s aunt Gemma would never have forced the issue because she hardly noticed he was there in the first place. Whatever life insurance policy her husband had left behind when he passed years before was enough for her to buy her home and land outright and it’s enough for the woman to retire. She spends her days holed up in the house that is the exact same as it was when he died and anyone who intrudes—whether that be the child that Lex was or even the mailman—are just passing ghosts to the woman.
To Lex, she’d been nothing more than an access code to freedom. In essence, he’d been emancipated the day he’d been removed from Sancho Medicci’s house. The government just didn’t know it.
“So, he’s had no one since my half-sister died,” Viks surmises.
Which reminds me… “Is Gemma not your sister too?” I ask, nudging my head towards the line of trees separating the front of the property from the back.
Viks shakes his head. “No.” That’s the only answer I get, the only one he seems willing to give for the moment as he turns away from the sight of darkness and forest and makes his way towards the carriage house.
I follow. Lights come on inside the small structure, illuminating the windows above the metal doors that were once useful as actual garage doors but have now been caulked andsealed to within an inch of their life to make the place actually livable year-round. Viks stops at the door and instead of opening it, he knocks. My lips curve upward as I push past him and open it, gesturing him inside.
Lex may be big, but Viks is bigger and he has to duck slightly to enter. I shut the door behind the two of us and head for the kitchen. A moment later, Gio wanders out of the back of the house, sliding an assessing glance to Viks before he speaks.
“Jules is out cold,” he says. “Lex will be back after he gets her settled.”
I nod and hold up a bottle of vodka in meaning. “Drink?” I offer. Gio shakes his head.
“I should say something about you boys getting your hands on alcohol at your age.” Despite his words, there’s clear amusement in Viks’ voice as he approaches, cutting through the living room towards us. “But I’m not surprised. I was young once, too.”
A snort leaves me as I tip the vodka and pour myself a few inches worth into a glass before setting it back on the counter and reaching for one of the flavor packets that Lex keeps hidden in the cupboard. “You act like you’re ancient,” I say. “What are you, thirty?”
At that, Viks shakes his head. “Try pushing fifty in a few years,” he replies.
My brows arch and I finish mixing my drink, turning to prop my back against the counter as I lift the glass to my lips. The now strawberry-flavored vodka burns over my tongue, but it eases the tightness of my muscles just as I’d hoped it would.
“You wear the age well, old man,” Gio says.
Viks nods his appreciation before his eyes land on the glass in my hand with curiosity. He holds a hand out. “May I?” he asks.
With a shrug, I hand it over and watch as he tips it back and takes a long swallow. It’s shit vodka, cheap as fuck, but he doesn’t even flinch as he hands the glass back.
“Not bad,” he informs me.
Before I can reply, Lex is striding back into the open concept living room with purpose. Standing in the center of the room, he settles his hands on his hips and gives the three of us all a dark look.
“So,” he demands. “What now?”
