Page 30 of Worth

My phone rings in my pockets and the photo in my hand crumples as I stab at the button to answer it. “What?” I snap.

“Mr. Vetella,” a smooth male voice says. “I have some information regarding the girl you are looking for.”

“What is it?” I ask impatiently.

“We have reason to believe that she was taken by Rustlers. We’re looking into the known ones in the surrounding areas.”

A band tightens across my chest. Rustlers. They aren’t normally known for their compassion and decent treatment of Skins they’ve stolen from rightful owners. If anything, some Skins would happily submit to any Lab to avoid a Rustler. They’re brutal, rough, and usually lack any sort of boundaries.

And now they have my Blake.

“Fucking find her. Do you understand me?” I seethe. “If one of these thieving assholes harms her or sells her to make a quick buck, and I lose her again,youwill be the one paying the price.”

“Understood, Mr. Vetella.”

The caller doesn’t give any additional pleasantries, the only following sound the clicking of the dead line. The only satisfaction that call gave me was the masked tremble in the voice of whoever the fuck that was after I made my threat.

Rage detonates in me at the thought of Rustlers putting their hands on Blake, and my phone flies across the room before I can think twice about it, smashing against the wall. Somehow, the razor-thin piece of technology doesn’t shatter into pieces.

But my eyes are already back on the photo in my hand and I use my fingers to calmly smooth out the wrinkles. God help the poor soul who thought they could take Blake from me, and not even God will be able to help them if they’ve harmed her in any way.

I scowl at Blake and Aiden, fighting in the kitchen over the last Twinkie, both laughing hysterically as they lob curses and halfhearted fists at one another. The insufferable pain in my ass known as Blake hasn’t been locked into her room in days now, always turning up in every place I go.

Like last night when I wanted to unwind before retiring to my room. I had climbed the stairs, looking forward to pulling down whatever book appealed to me, and...There. She. Fucking. Was. Curled up in one of the armchairs—myarmchairs—legs dangling over the side, her brow was furrowed as eyes scanned the pages of the book in her lap.

No one was allowed to touch my books. For that alone, I should have snatched her up and punished her for doing so. I just snatched a random book off the shelf instead as I stomped to my room, pointedly ignoring her when I felt her eyes on me. If I had looked, I’m not sure what would have happened.

I know the last time I punished her, I lost control of myself, and that can’t happen again. It can’t happen again because if I lose control again, I’ll end up fucking Blake ten different ways to Sunday. I have plenty of experience in hate fucking someone, and she checks every one the boxes needed to fulfill that sort of anger fueled sex.

Absolute loathing of each other. Check.

Poison-laced words hurled at one another, and often. Check.

And the one Ihaven’texperienced along with it—blistering sexual tension. Check.

Hate sex with Blake would be phenomenal. I can practically taste it on the air every time we exchange curled lips and glares.

But as I watch Aiden play at wrestling the Twinkie away from her—and he’s definitely not putting a whole lot of effort into winning the match—I know I can’t do that to him. Even though he all but said he didn’t care if something happened between me and Blake, Aiden should finally get something good coming his way.

I can’t say that I think Blake is necessarily the good I want for him, but it’s whathewants and I suppose that’s all that matters.

Unfortunately.

“A-ha-ha!” Blake cries triumphantly, bouncing away from Aiden with the half-mashed Twinkie in her hand. “Mine!”

Aiden pouts. “Bad Kitten.”

Blake seems to have given up on getting him to stop calling her that ridiculous pet name because she only sighs dramatically, tearing the Twinkie into two pieces. “Share?” she asks with a sugary smile, and for a minute, she seems so sweet and docile.

And then she smashes Aiden’s half in his face.

Squealing as Aiden lunges for her blindly, sponge cake and filling smeared into his eyelashes, Blake dances away from him. She inhales the other half of the Twinkie in a single bite and I suddenly find myself fixated on the clump of frosting that’s clinging to her lip. A vivid fantasy hits me, making me see visions of myself striding over to Blake and licking her lips clean, tasting sugar and temptation while I tongue fuck her mouth in a way that lets her know who she belongs to.

Fuck.No. She can’t belong to me.

“Aiden,” I snap, my spine stiffening as he pins Blake’s wrists atop the kitchen counter and presses his body into hers. “We haven’t visited any of the warehouses in the last week becauseBlakeis distracting you from work. Wehaveto go today.”

Aiden shoots a glare over his shoulder. “And?”

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