“No!”
I smile as Caz shoots off the couch, pointing a finger at Wingnut.
“No. No, dude,no.” He backs up fast as Wingnut spreads his wings and lets out a violent quack.
Caz’s wide eyes swing to me. “Why?”
Then Wingnut lunges as he snaps at his legs, and Caz yelps as he leaps back onto the couch.
“That’s why,” I say, as the room breaks into laughter.
The clubhouse is packed this afternoon, and usually that fills me with pride. But today, it pisses me off. I brought him here because it’s closer than his house across town, and I just need tofuck him.
But since we’re here, there’s something else we can deal with.
I grip the back of Cade’s neck and steer him towards the bar, where Kurt leans with his arms crossed, smirking at the show Wingnut and Caz are still putting on.
He straightens as we approach, and his eyes lock on Cade.
“As you can see, dear uncle,” I say, firmly holding the back of Cade’s neck. “Cade is alive and well.”
Cade cuts his eyes to me, and his brows draw together.
“I see that,” Kurt says as he drags his gaze over Cade until it stalls on his throat. Then he looks at me with a cocked eyebrow.
“Hm,” I say, shaking my head. “Not the injuries you think they are. Cade may be bad… but he’s not a fucking rat. Because if he was,” I step behind him and wrap my hand around his throat. “These wouldn’t be the only marks on him.” I pull him tight against my chest, and he tenses.
But he stays right where he is, letting me do what I need to do.
I pull his head to the side to expose his neck, and slide my knife from its sheath. The steel flashes under the dim lights as I press it lightly to the skin on his throat, dragging just enough for goosebumps to appear.
“I’d open him right here,” I say in a low voice, watching the edge of my knife tickle his skin, “and watch him bleed out as he pays the price for even fucking daring to cross me.” Then I snap his head back and bring my mouth to his ear, keeping the knife pressed to his throat. My words are a whisper meant for him, but loud enough for Kurt. “You wouldn’t do that to me… or to yourself… would you, baby?” I shift the blade down to his chest, over his heart, as I curl my free hand around his throat again. “You wouldn’t make me carve out my own heart by taking yours… would you?”
I lift my eyes to Kurt, who’s watching Cade intently, waiting for him to crack.
And as cool as my man is under pressure, he swallows hard against my grip, and his chest rises and falls quickly against the edge of the knife as he shifts on his feet.
But I need more from him. I squeeze his throat tighter and adjust the knife so the tip is pointed right at his heart.
I need him rattled.
Because I know Cade isn’t the rat. But Kurt needs to believe it the way I do.
“Answer me, baby,” I growl in his ear. “Would you?”
His chest rises and falls, pressing against the knife with each quick inhale.
“No,” he breathes out.
Kurt observes him a beat longer before his gaze flicks to mine, and he nods once.
I release Cade’s throat and slip my knife back into its sheath at my hip as I step around him. I drop my gaze to his throat, taking in the angry, irritated skin, before looking into his eyes. His brows are drawn together, and his cheeks are flushed… but his eyes are bright andalive.
I smile at him, then jerk my chin towards the pool table, where Wingnut is still chasing Caz as the guys try to play. “Go help him.”
His eyes flick between mine for a moment, as his chest lifts with a deep breath… like it’s exactly what he’s been waiting for.
My beautiful, fucked-up doc.
