A deep chuckle down the receiver.“One of your playdates go wrong?”
“It wasn’t a fucking playdate!” Titus snarled, counting to three in his head before he continued, calmer. “You able to pick me up, or not?”
“I’ll be there in the next hour.”Jax hung up.
* * *
Titus took the stairs two at a time when he got home, unable to relax until he was behind the door to his room, stripping his shirt off with a pained wince. Storming into the bathroom, he checked his chest in the mirror, the hole obscuring the skull tattooed there. It would heal, but he’d have to get the shading done again, or he’d be left with a random patch of bare skin, which was almost as fucking annoying as the stolen gun.
Reaching over to the marble sink, he gripped the edge, the surface cool to touch as he glared at his reflection. His hair was a mess, more brown than blonde from the dirt, and there were little cuts along his cheek where he’d caught some loose stones. Bruises shadowed his left shoulder and arm, the skin of his chest covered in blood, darker than he was used to. Almost black.
But he barely skimmed across the injuries, immediately drawn to his eyes. Eyes that weren’t his. Titus immediately dropped his gaze, unable to stand looking any longer. They used to be bourbon, one of the few characteristics other than the shape, that he’d inherited from his grandmother. Now they were a deep burgundy, a constant reminder of the pain he’d suffered. Of the black magic that was slowly changing him.
His beast released a grumble in the back of his mind, just as pissed as he was. Which made sense, as someone had tried to kill him, and if he’d died, he was sure his beast would have ceased to exist too.
Two beings cursed together against their will, destined to be dragged to Hell after one hundred years, to be a slave to the very fallen angel who’d cursed them in the first place, and the only thing that could stop that was to bind his soul to someone else. A chain, for a chain.
Great.
Titus released his grip on the marble, turning just as Jax appeared in the doorway. The pain radiated down every limb, an intense ache that throbbed along with his pulse.
“Sit,” Jax grumbled, a man of many words.
Following his brother, Titus sat in the armchair that faced his bed, sitting straight as Jax knelt in front. “I thought you liked to tie your dates down?” he asked, frowning at the hole as he reached for the long tweezers from the first aid box he’d brought with him. “You must have really pissed her off.”
“Funny.” Titus pressed his lips together, swallowing the grunt as the cold metal dug into his wound, tapping against the bullet lodged deep inside. It caused tendrils of agony to break off in every direction. “You seem to have a fascination with my sex life.”
“I have to live vicariously through someone, may as well be you.” The tweezers were removed, and Jax sat back on his heels. “Fuck.”
“Fuck?” Titus rolled his shoulders, and Jax quickly reached over to grip his arms.
“Stop, that bullet’s in your fucking heart!”
Titus stilled, the ache in his chest pulsing with vengeance. “Well, get it out then,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Ti, it’s fucking shredded. I don’t know how you’re still moving.” Jax frowned, pulling the scar that sliced down his left eye, a few shades darker than his olive skin tone. As kids they used to joke about some great monster ambushing him, which was exactly what had actually happened. Jax had fought, and killed a Shadow-Veyn at only eight years old,beforehe’d been merged with his beast.
“If you don’t do it…” Titus reached for the tweezers. “I will.”
Jax pulled them away, his arms in perfect proportion to his large frame. “Fuck’s sake, you can’t –”
“What happened?” Riley asked as he opened the bedroom door without knocking.
Titus closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing pulse.
“Bullet to the heart,” Jax said with a grunt. “Should be dead.”
“Bloody hell.” Riley closed the door quietly behind him.
“Can someone just take it out.” Titus glared at them both. “Please,” he added.
Jax sighed, leaning forward until Titus felt the tweezers inside his chest once more.
Riley folded his arms, head cocked. “How does it feel?”
“Like bad indigestion, how do you think it feels?”
Riley’s lips quirked up, but he noticed the worry in the deep set of his grey eyes. “J, how bad?”
