Page 51 of The Mobster's Mate

For the first time since Caden had met him, Nero looked pissed. “That’s not what’s happening. You need to get that shit out of your head.”

“Well then, why is Quinten—”

“Because he protects what’s his.” Nero said it emphatically, holding Caden’s gaze. “You hear me?”

Caden ran his teeth over his bottom lip. Yeah, he heard him, and he’d heard Quinten say that the first night he met him.

But… it didn’t feel like it was true for him. It felt like Quinten was putting distance between them for some reason, so the show of concern for his well-being felt out of place, almost condescending.

If it had happened two days ago, he would have loved it. It would have made him feel protected and safe, even if he didn’t really need it. He’d know it was just Quinten’s way of showing how much he cared. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried to hold on to his glare as he met Nero’s sky-blue eyes.

“He says that, but he’s being weird.”

Nero strolled over to the same love seat Quinten had sat on the day before. The reminder made his chest ache. He should have edited some of it out. He’d just meant to tell him the highlights but had ended up word vomiting the entire thing. But it had been like lancing a wound. He’d needed to apply the red-hot poker to where it was festering so that it could start to heal. Except now he was left in limbo, not even sure how long he’d be welcome there. Once he proved he was healed and shifted, would they ask him to leave?

“Come sit, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” he said but went over and plopped down on one of the soft leather chairs.

“How old are you?”

He shrugged. “Twenty-three.”

Nero laughed. “You’re a kid to me.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his thighs, propping his head up on his clasped hands. “I know you’ve lived a rough life, and I know you’ve seen things and been places, so you think you know what’s what,” Nero said, watching Caden steadily. “But that doesn’t mean you have all of the answers. Don’t assume shit. Definitely don’t assume anything when it comes to Quinten.”

Caden narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Nero tilted his head. “I know the Kincaids talked to you about him.”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “Kai tried to tell me I should stay there, but he didn’t really go into detail because Dare was in the room.”

“But then right before you left?”

Caden widened his eyes. He hadn’t realized anyone knew. “How did you find out?”

Nero smiled wider. “Parahumans forget that just because Quinten doesn’t have enhanced senses doesn’t mean he doesn’t know tricks. While a lot of times shifters—” He shrugged. “Okay, and vampires. We can get lazy and depend on our sense of smell or hearing too much. Quinten doesn’t trust anyone, and he doesn’t simply rely on his senses to know information.”

“What does that mean?” Caden narrowed his eyes.

Chuckling, Nero said, “It means he planted a bug.”

“A bug?” Caden furrowed his brows. “What kind of bug?”

“The listening device kind. He slipped it into your pocket before he got pulled away by Rick, and it wasn’t affected by Gabriel’s little hex bag.”

“He did?” He’d no idea. Quinten hadn’t said a thing about it.

“Of course he did. He knew they would probably try something like that. So he knows what Gabriel said to you.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Caden said, waving a hand in the air. “It’s not like I think he’s some saint. I know he does things that other people think are questionable or unethical.”

“And?”

Caden shrugged. “And nothing. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

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