Reaver:
Don’t fucking text me.
Lilith:
Are you coming or not? I have better shit to do on my day off than to wait for your bitch ass.
Reaver:
Speak to me like that again, and you’ll see what happens, deathtrap.
I narrowed my eyes at my phone. Was he…threatening me?With fuckingwhat?
Lilith:
Ooo, I’m so scared *eye roll emoji*. Be here in the next ten minutes, or I’m leaving.
I threw myself into the booth and checked the time. I would follow through on my threat. He had exactly ten minutes or…
The front door swung open, and I knew without looking that it was him. I tried to keep my face neutral as I took in the fucking sex god that was Reaver. Why were the pretty ones always suchdicks?
Naturally, he was in all black, though instead of Voodoo’s business casual uniform, he was in jeans and a T-shirt. His dark hair was slicked back with some sort of hair pomade, and he was wearing a leather jacket that moved like a second skin over his broad shoulders. He was holding a to-go coffee cup and had a murdered-out motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm.
He sauntered over to me like he owned the place, and we scowled at each other. Dropping the motorcycle helmet on the table, he slipped into the bench across from me like it was a throne.
I was about to say hi when he took out his phone and immediately started ignoring me.
My blood started boiling.Fuck this guy.
I didn’t need this. I wasn’t scared of him. Want to know what was scary? The demon that had stalked me my whole life and killed everyone I had ever known.Thatfucker was scary.
This little punk-ass bitch with a shitty attitude wasnotfucking scary. I wasn’t about to sit around and let another asshole torment me. He was going to respect me, or I was fucking out of here.
I snatched the phone out of his hands, and he froze, staring down at his empty hand for a moment before slowly raising his devastatingly beautiful eyes to look up at me.
Glancing down at his phone, I noticed a half-finished text typed out to Shem, and I couldn’t keep myself from snooping.
Shem:
It’s not going to be that bad; you’re being a baby.
Reaver:
She’s already acting like a fucking brat.
Shem:
LOL, sounds about right.
Reaver:
I swear to fuck, I’m going to?—
I scowled. Why the fuck was he talking to Shem about me? What did Shem mean ‘sounds about right?’ I’d never beenbrattyto him before. I frowned and shook my head before powering off the phone and meeting his furious gaze across the table without flinching.
“Give me my phone, deathtrap,” he said. His voice was low and deadly, and he stared at me so intensely that my eyes started to water. Did this dude not need to blink?
“I’ll give you your phone back after I’ve said what I need to say.”
