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“Training is over,” I tell them.
“We still have another hour.”
“And you’re clearly not interested in fulfilling that hour, so come back when your focus is where it needs to be.” I pluck Leo from my leg and push him toward Josie. “Home. Now.”
The six of them exchange very obvious looks together, but they don’t argue, at least.
I wait until they’re out of sight, then I drop onto my bottom step and bury my face in my hands.
They don’t love me. They’re just kids who have no clue what love is. And I definitely don’t love them.
They’re annoying and useless and will have promise one day, but until then, their softness offends me.
My throat gets tight as I think of each of their little faces.
And the Armageddon I’d unleash if anything ever happened to them.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
SASHA
“Are you really okay?” are the first words Wilde asks when we leave Lynx’s place behind.
“I’m great.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Technically, a lot, but I doubt that Lynx would want Wilde to know about what we did. Lynx is private, and as proud as I am about bringing him down, I’m not going to share those details unless he does first. “No.” My lie is effortless. “Lynx has been looking after me.”
Which is true. Between cleaning me up, defending my honor, getting me somewhere to sleep, and feeding me, I couldn’t ask for anything else.
Well, except maybe being woken with a blow job, but considering I don’t know if last night was a one-off that we’re ignoring or something that could happen again, there’s no point wishing for the impossible.
Even if my imagination has been going wild with images of that feline body stretched out between my legs, head lowered to devour me.
Everything about him is addictively sexy.
“Lynx can’t even look after himself.”
“That tells me you don’t know him very well at all.”
“For good reason.”
Wilde can think that all he likes. As far as I’m concerned, there’s something about Lynx worth getting to know, and I’m determined to worm my way into his brain until I’ve consumed it all.
“I feel like we should be at Booker’s by now,” I say.
“We should. We’re taking a detour first.”
As much as I think Wilde is an okay person—too boring and bland for me—I do not like being caught by surprise. “Where?”
“Ziggy and Kennedy are having a look at your car. We’re going to pick up your keys and see if they’ve had any luck with it.”
I immediately perk up at that. “Do they know what they’re doing?”
“Not really.” We reach Hobby Straight, and I try not to panic over the thought that Antonio could be there. “Ziggy is an electrician, not a mechanic.”
