Page 73 of Made in Malice

“You’re standing in front of the door.”

I realize then that his fingers are curled around the handle, and he is waiting for me. Flushing, I take a wide step to the left, allowing him to open the door. It’s not the first time he’s done it, but it is the first time when it wasn’t necessary, by his standards anyway. All the other times, he knew I would have tried to get away from him if he didn’t force me into the car.

I finally take a chance and look up at him once I’ve lowered myself into the seat. His face is relaxed. It’s not a look I’m used to seeing on him. The door clicks closed softly, and I buckle my seatbelt. I know from riding with him previously that he drives like a maniac.

Both of us are quiet for several minutes as he heads back toward the island. Once we make it to the bridge, I realize my car is still at the bar. I hate asking him for anything, but this is worth it. “Will you run me back to Hooker’s? I need to get my car.”

“It’s taken care of,” he tells me, slowing more than he did last time for the gate to lift to the island.

“What does that mean?” I question as we pass over the bump in the bridge that allows it to be cut off from the mainland.

“I already had someone take it back to the house.” He glances over at me briefly, probably because he wants to see if it pisses me off as much as he hoped it would. I think back to when I handed him my key fob and phone when I went back for the X-ray. It shows what a screwed up place my head is in that I didn’t remember either until just now.

“You let someone else drive my car?” I’m not happy, but I’m too tired to be more than that.

“I couldn’t leave you at the hospital alone and do it myself. I promise your car is fine,” he assures me, and it doesn’t even seem like he’s making fun of me.

I don’t know what to think or say. It’s like we’re playing the same game, but somebody changed the rules without telling me.

I get my first look inside the garage as the door rolls open. There are at least six cars parked inside with plenty of room for more. “Are all these yours?” I ask without thought.

“Ours. We share everything,” Lucian says before climbing out of the SUV. It takes me a second to follow him out, because my mind is too focused on why he put so much emphasis on the word everything.

Nox pulls into the garage moments later in the same car I watched race out of the gate the night Lucian was in the accident. It prompts me to look around for the black sports car he was in that night to assess the damage, but it’s not among the others.

“Is your car in the shop?” I ask to make conversation as I wait for Nox to join us. I feel the tiniest bit safer when he’s with us, though I have no idea why.

“What car?” Lucian seems confused for a second then recovers. “Traded it in. The replacement should be here in a week or two.”

“Wow, it didn’t seem totaled.”

“It wasn’t, but it was used, broken. Why keep it when I can have better?”

I don’t bother trying to explain that just because something is used or broken doesn’t mean it’s not worthy of him. I would only be wasting my breath. Besides, it’s none of my business what he does.

LUCIAN

I can’t help but notice the way she has the sleeve of her shirt pulled down, covering as much of the bandage wrapped around her wrist as possible. I would be willing to bet she hates the show of weakness. I know I would. I probably would have told the doctor to shove it up his ass, just like I did when he said I had a concussion after the accident.

What bothers me more, though, is her comment about her kidneys. If Amboni doesn’t have her records in my email by morning, I’ll be paying him a little visit tomorrow. I’m tempted to demand she tell me now, but after seeing the way she shut down earlier and her threatening to leave, I bite my tongue, at least for now. I’ll get my answers sooner rather than later.

“I’m going to get a drink,” I announce, then break away from her and Nox to head to the kitchen. Gertie is long gone by this time of night, which is good. I don’t want anyone else here to interrupt.

Because I’m not a complete asshole, I carry three bottles and a bag of chips up to the billiards room, then stop short when I realize it’s empty. “That fucker,” I mutter under my breath, looking down the hall toward our rooms.

Her soft, sweet voice carries to my ears before I breach the doorway of Nox’s bedroom. There’s no bite in her tone like there is when she speaks to me. “I just can,” she tells him, so I linger in the hall to catch a little more of their shared conversation.

“Just tell me how, please. No one else can tell us apart. It’ll make him crazy if I know and he doesn’t.” Nox tempts her with pissing me off. It’s a good tactic, it might work.

“I told you, it’s just a feeling. When he’s around, my body knows I’m in danger. There’s no other way to describe it. In the kind of neighborhood I grew up in, you learn not to ignore instincts like that,” she admits.

I step into the doorway. Nox already would have known I was close anyway, because we know better than most about those feelings she was talking about. Most people don’t understand how true our bond is and how we can sense each other, but I have a feeling she will.

“So what you’re saying is I turn you on.” I purposely belittle her confession because I love to piss her off. I can’t wait for the day when I can rip her fucking clothes off and fuck her against the wall while she claws at me.

“Nope. What I said before was accurate—you make my skin crawl.” She sends a suspicious glare at Nox as if she knows he conned her into talking while he knew I was nearby. She’s smart and gorgeous, which only makes me want her more.

“I brought you something, lamb.” My voice is pitched low, seductive and coaxing. She responds whether she means to or not by shifting her body just enough to stand directly in front of me. Her head tilts infinitesimally, and her lips part, creating the perfect little heart between her pouty lips.

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