Page 114 of Reckless Hearts

I grit my teeth when I turn and my eyes land on Raquel. Even with the gold and blood red carnival mask she’s wearing, adorned with roses and a dove, I know it’s her. I’d recognize that grating tone of voice anywhere.

“I didn’t except to see you here.”

“I guess I’m like a bad penny,” I say grimly. “Always turning up uninvited.”

Hades clears his throat, smirking with more than a little bit of amusement as his eyes dart between Raquel and me.

“I’d offer to help extricate you,” he mutters into my ear, turning away from Raquel. “But this lookswaytoo amusing to stop. I’ll be the guy over there enjoying some popcorn.”

“Asshole.”

He snickers, patting my shoulder. “Good luck, baby bro.”

Hades removes himself, sliding over to the bar nearby to grab another drink and watch this shitshow from a safe distance.

“Where’s the new plaything, Deimos?” Raquel says pointedly, her blood-red lips curling with venom.

“What do youwant, Raquel.”

She bristles briefly at my stony coldness, then shrugs it off, stepping closer to me. “I’m here alone tonight, if you’re curious,” she purrs quietly.

“I can assure you, I am not remotely curious.”

Her lips twist as she makes to slap my chest. I take a step back, avoiding her touch easily and leaving her swiping at the air between us. Her brows knit.

“Please,” Raquel snorts. “Don’t tell me that little mouse is your fucking girlfriend. We both know you don’tdogirlfriends.”

“I don’t do people who ignore the fact that I’ve said no as plainly as I can, either.”

She grins. “Maybe I’m bad at hints.”

“It wasn’t a hint. Get the fuck away from me, Raquel. I’mnot interested.”

She giggles. “Nowwhydoes that sound like you’re arguing more with yourself than with me…”

“Probably because you’re an idiot with defective hearing, and a narcissist as well. And not the interesting kind of narcissist, either. The vapid, boring, utterly unoriginal cookie-cutter kind.”

Her smile falters a little. But she still reaches out as if to put her hand on my chest. She flinches when I smack her hand aside roughly, surge into her, and grab her hard by the chin.

“Touch me again when I’ve already told you not to, and I’ll break your fucking hand,” I hiss. “Are. We. Clear.”

Without waiting on an answer, I turn, all set to go find Hades and kick him in the nuts for leaving me alone with this woman, when her voice stops me.

“What the fuck does she have that I don’t?!” Raquel blurts. “I mean what is it, Deimos?! Does she scream louder? Does she let you hurt her more? Does she play your games whenever you want?Tell me! Tell me what it is—”

She gasps as I whirl, looming over her, snarling, fear exploding in her eyes.

“Thereareno games with her, Raquel. That’s it.”

Then I turn and walk away, leaving her standing there.

And that’s the truth, even if I’m fairly certain I just made that connection myself the very second it popped out of my mouth.

There are no games with Dahlia. And the ones we do “play” aren’t games at all.

They’re just who we are.

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