“Yes,Johnny?” I make sure to stress the name. His eye twitches. Good.
“What did I do to deserve this?” He sighs and looks up.
“Well, for starters, Satan can’t hear you if you’re talking to the ceiling.”
He glares, unamused.
I sigh and drop the act. “I need to talk to you.”
“So? Text. Email. Carrier pigeon. Take your pick.”
“Call me stupid, but I missed you. Clearly, this was a mistake. Next time I’ll send a fucking scroll.”
I turn toward the elevator, counting down in my head.
In three… two… one…
“Damn it, Axel. Wait.”
I pause. Not smiling takes effort.
“If you can stop being a pain in my ass, come back inside.”
I swing back around, clapping him on the back as I walk on by. “No promises.”
He pivots in his genuine Italian loafers, taking the lead. I trail behind in scuffed Converses.
Something in Johnny broke the day our mom died. Like he flipped a switch and never looked back. The guy who used to sneak me Oreos and watch dumb cartoons is gone. What’s left is... colder. Sharper. Cruel, even.
He leads me through his villain lair to his office. The space looks eerily similar to Ben’s setup. I wonder if it’s intentional. A subconscious shrine to a man he used to worship and now resents.
He sits behind a massive mahogany desk and gestures at the chair opposite him. I sprawl into the chair and sling an ankle over my knee. His lip curls in distaste. I don’t comment.
He steeples his fingers. “Now, what do you want?”
I glance at the paperwork scattered across his desk in no hurry to give him what he wants. My eyes catch on the red of a photograph before realizing I’m looking at evidence of a dead man. He sweeps it under a folder before I can get a closer look.
Right. Time to get to the point.
“I need your help. Nik and I do.”
He drums his fingers against the desk. “And why would I help you?”
This time, I can’t stop my eyeroll. Of course. Nothing with Johnny is free. Everything is a transaction.
“Because there’s something in it for you, too.”
The drumming stops.
“Oh?” His greenish eyes narrow, sharp and curious. Against his dark hair and chiseled cheekbones, the color glows.He’s always been the more striking of us. While I pride myself on my typical boy-next-door looks and charm, Johnny exudes danger. His features are sharper and he carries himself with an air of superiority and fearlessness. He makes crazy women swoon and normal men shit their pants.
“Explain.”
I have him. Now, I just have to reel him in without snapping the line.
“You have access to resources we need. Hear me out before you say no. That’s all I’m asking.” I take a breath. “We’re looking for Lina.”
His answer is so quiet I almost miss it.
