“There’s an Elsa joke in there somewhere.” I place the bowl back on the counter and make a frame with my hands as if I’m viewing an imaginary movie. “Picture this. What would have happened if you let shit go when Wraith was in Gomorrah?”
She slaps my hands down. “Wrong analogy on every level.”
“Whatever.” I shrug. “I can’t let this go.”
I can’t letFaithgo. Not again.
I fucked up once, and I’m determined to set things right.
Jamie purses her lips, and I practically hear her silently chastising me. “Something tells me you’re beyond listening to reason.”
I place a loud and sloppy kiss on her cheek. “You know me so well.”
“Remove your disgusting mouth from my woman’s face.”
“And there he is.” I make ata-dagesture. “The man. The myth. The legend.”
Wraith’s scarred upper lip is set in a sneer as he enters the kitchen. “How about you go fuck yourself?”
“I keep a picture of you next to my bed for just such occasions.”
Jamie’s booming laughter is pure gold. It took a lot for us to get her comfortable. Once she dropped her guard and her whole self emerged, she taught me the true meaning of a laugh-snort.
“That’s because I’m so damn pretty.”
Wraith isn’t lying. Even after his bulky body was torn to hell, he’s still a prime piece of man-meat. The things David Crane did to him in Gomorrah are the stuff of nightmares. But it’s been a year now, and Wraith considers his time in the dungeon a gift because it brought Jamie back to him. Their love is a blatant reminder of what I could have had with Faith if I hadn’t thrown it away.
Jamie opens her arms, and because she’s the sun in Wraith’s universe, he gravitates to her. The kiss he gives her is the reason why I moved out. Whenever these two are in the same room, they can’t keep their hands off each other. Not that I mind, because trust and believe if sex is happening, I’m rubbernecking. Jamie, however, gets adorably shy about it. So yeah, I packed my shit and left to give the lovebirds their privacy.
Wraith wraps one arm around her waist and tucks her against his side. She’s barely showing, and in that billowy dress, not at all. Personally, I can’t wait to see her huge and waddling around. I may not be most people’s idea of a good person, but I’m going to be an awesome uncle. I’m going to love the snot right out of their little girl.
Jamie gestures to the two of us. “You boys done?”
“Fine. I surrender, but only because I don’t want you upset.” I ruffle her hair. Wraith slaps my hand away. “I’m the bigger man, as James well knows.”
God, I love referring to the night I dry humped her because these two were determined to out-stupid and out-stubborn each other. It serves them right for putting me in the middle of their nonsense.
Wraith’s growl—an actual feral growl—doesn’t impress or intimidate me. Yes, I’m aware that he murdered nine men with his bare hands during his captivity. We’ve also killed people together as enforcers. It’s part of the job. But this bickering? It’s the same with Malice and me. It’s fun, harmless teasing. The outside world is way too serious.
Someone needs to be the clown.
It might as well be me since I’m so damn good at it.
She snatches the bowl of popcorn off the counter and marches across the kitchen. “Keep it up, Jester, and Wraith is going to kill you one of these days.”
I give her a devious grin. “Nah, he won’t. Wraith loves me too much. Besides, life would be a bore without my special brand of sunshine.”
“I like boring.”
“Bull. Shit,” I counter but rethink my answer. “Okay, maybe for you, yeah, after what you both went through.” I lift a questioning brow at him and jerk my head at Jamie as she disappears into the living room. “With a baby on the way, is this your unofficial retirement as an enforcer?”
He looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “The day I retire is the day I can’t lift my arms to throw a punch.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Wraith leans back against the counter, his gaze drifting over the colorful kitchen. “I like the quiet I have with Jamie. But I also love my job. I need it.”
Wraith, like the rest of us degenerates who were born wired wrong, enjoys hurting people. Evil people. Men who earn the pain we put on them. And if I’m honest about the changes I see in my friend, he likes it more than he did before Crane scrambled his brain and permanently damaged his body.
