The annoying fucking thing is, itworks.
Not because I’m upset that he’s not calling me “The Marquis”, obviously. It’s a pretty outdated moniker, and I only care about it being used in formal Syndicate settings or ceremonies. I mean, tradition is important, and has it’s place.
No, it works because it tells me he’s activelytryingto be a dickhead. For some reason, that annoys the fuck out of me.
“Have you ever considered growing up past the age of eleven?”
Carson taps his chin thoughtfully.
“Depends. Do eleven-year-olds get boners? Like, could I still fuck?”
I stare at him. “Yes, officers, this conversation right here,” I say deadpan.
My friend grins at me. “I was just trying to get under your skin.”
“Yeah, I got that,” I mutter. “Do you want notes?”
“Always.”
I glare at him. “It worked.”
“Oh, good,” he beams. “Still got it. “So it reallyisthat you’ve just been a mopey fuck since the initiation, not that my high level of humor has slipped.”
I shoot him a look. “I haven’t been mopey. I’ve beenbusy.”
“But not with your own Acolyte.”
I arch a brow. Carson smirks.
“Come on,” he drawls, latching onto it like a cat with its claws on a mouse. “You thought I wouldn’t notice? Yours passed. She was standing there at the end—not in the clothes she came in, I should add. We’rereallyjust glossing over the part where she looked naked, wrapped in your coat? Hmm?”
“My initiate,” I growl, “is no longer under consideration for the Syndicate.”
She can’t be. Even though she broke so fucking sweetly, and I’ve spent every waking second since that night thinking about her snug cunt and shattered tears…
No.
Carson’s face twists into the world’s most insincere "sad" expression.
“Aww, did she not like the way you play, Marcus?”
I remind myself daily how lucky it is that Carson and I are such old friends.
Lucky forhim, that is.
“Were you too rough with your new toy?” He winces dramatically. “Did youbreakher?”
I don’t give him any more fuel: he feeds off this shit.
And not that he brought it up or even has any clue about it, but my decision to cut Evelina loose has fuck-all to do with the fact that she whimperedsome other motherfuckers nameafter I made her come in her sleep.
Itdoesn’t, and I will die on that hill.
But we’re still going to wear your fucking skin,Ethan….
When it’s clear I’m not going to answer, Carson pouts, scowling and turning away.
“Speaking of initiates,” I say mildly, “you weren’t even supposed tohaveone the other night. And yet…”
