“Actually, uh, no.” Karter’s tone is serious, and reluctantly, I eye her carefully. “I don’t know a single girl—or person for that matter—who has gone to thirty-three’s house.” She says his number like it’s his name which, despite their fixation on me and what went down with Faust and Sylvan, makes me smile.
I quickly ditch the expression, though, and shake my head. “We don’t need to talk about this here.”
“The fuck we don’t,” Cyn says, looking at me. “Did you sleep with him? Or did you sleep with both of them? You need to be careful. I told he’s…”
“A psychopath?” Karter supplies, watching me.
She isn’t smiling anymore, and I’m long past that.
Neither of them know how he ambushed me in the alleyway, his palm over my mouth. In the end, he didn’t hurt me. If anything, he took care of me. But didn’t Ted Bundy take care of his girlfriend, too? The one with the kid?
That doesn’t mean Sylvan didn’t do it. Because he tried to feed me and hold me and…
No.
Jackson. Will. Mitchell.
Suddenly, it doesn’t feel cold enough. The panic heats me up from the inside out.
“Neve?” Cynthia says quietly, stepping closer to me. I inhale and alongside the frozen night, I catch the scent of her sensual perfume. It grounds me, but before I can reach for her, tell her I’m scared one of them actually had something to do with it, I hear a familiar, feminine laugh, and the crunch of boots on ice.
I spin at the same time Cyn catches my arm, as if to steady me, and Karter says a name, low and shocked.
Tasia.
She’s there, right in front of me, cat eyeliner, a painted on nose and whiskers, cartoon freckles. Cat ears pushing back her long, inky hair.
And her green eyes are fixed on mine, her expression triumphant.
I know why.
She’s under the arm of Sylvan himself, his expression cold as he stares down at me. He’s wearing a gray toque, nearly the same color as his eyes, and his jaw is tight, the lines along his face sharp as ice.
Black wool coat, black leather gloves, he looks like a model.
He looks like he hates me.
And for his arm to be slung around Tasia, his fingertips dangling just over her left breast, he must.
“We’re going to jump the line,” Tasia says, grinning at Karter, and it looks real, her white teeth flashing. But when she cuts her eyes to mine, the expression vanishes. “You wanna come with?”
I clench down on my back teeth.
“You fucking him, too?” Cynthia asks bluntly, the implication clear in her last word as she steps up beside me, releasing her hold on my arm, because we’re side-by-side.
A surge of love flows through me toward her, and I don’t say a word, just let Tasia’s brow wrinkle as she twists to glare up at Sylvan, who remains silent.
How’s that feel, bitch?
But I don’t know if I’m asking her, or him.
It’s not like he owes me anything. It’s not likewe’reanything. But it doesn’t make the burn coursing through me at the sight of him so close to her lessen. Is he mad at me because Faust chewed him out on the ice? That’s not my fucking problem.
“Neve?” Another voice calls my name, and this one makes my pulse race, but not because of who it is.
I glance past the two assholes in front of me and see Ace, his broad shoulders pushing through the crowd around us.
He’s wearing white earmuffs which are wildly endearing, especially with those visible tattoos beneath the black winter coat he has on. He glances at Sylvan and I see his eyes narrow a fraction, but he jumps right over Tasia and my heart leaps.
