Page 9
“Jesus Christ. You look like you’ve murdered six people before breakfast.” His grin widened.
I shoved past him.
Sloane slid a glass of whiskey across the counter before I even sat down.
“You look homicidal.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
I took a sip. It tasted like shit, exactly how I liked it.
Viper dropped onto the stool beside me. Then another Son, Arrow, and another, Spike. They swarmed around me like fucking vultures, eliciting an icy glare from me.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Viper answered.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing.”
I narrowed my eyes. They were lying. The idiots exchanged glances.
Viper broke first. “See, I know this guy. Mean as hell, violent as fuck, but he’s a little grumpier today.”
My jaw ticked. “Shut up, Viper.”
“Yup, Viper is definitely right.
I contemplated breaking his nose.
“You’re cranky.”
“I’m always cranky.”
I rubbed a hand down my face. I was tired, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, all I could think about was whether Wren was still asleep on my couch. She looked like a damn gust of wind could knock her over. The memory of her flinching every time someone raised their voice twisted something ugly in my chest. I hated it—the feeling, the concern, the restlessness. I barely knew her. I didn’t even give a damn about her. Why should her safety concern me so much?
Viper stared at me.
“You just zoned out.”
“So?”
“You never zone out.”
I grunted.
Sloane’s eyes narrowed. “He’s distracted.”
“I’m not distracted.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
