Exodus (The Ravenhood)

A second later, I feel Jeremy beside me. I can’t look at him. I can’t let him see that his mere presence is weakening me. “We miss you, you know?”

“Do you?” I sip my coffee and swallow, unable to hide the bitter edge in my voice. “Nice suspenders.”

He thumbs them in my peripheral. “You know they’re my favorite.”

“Good to know you give a shit about something.”

“I do care about you,” his sigh comes out more like a grunt of frustration. I’m sure his boss is staring right at him, a clear threat just feet away. He’s tap dancing between an apology for me and certain punishment. It doesn’t seem like any of them are brave enough to go head to head with this asshole.

“Don’t worry about me. You haven’t in eight months.”

“Come on,” he argues, “you know we couldn’t—”

“Want to know how I’m doing?” I turn my head and glare at him. “Well, you can relay to Sean I now know exactly what happens to caged birds.”

“We’re good,” Tobias snaps at Jeremy, his intent to end our exchange clear. “I’ll get with you later.”

Not long after, the alarm beeps and Russell’s voice sounds out from where he calls from the front door. “Hey, man, we have to open up in twenty. Mrs. Carter wants her shit checked out first thing this morning.”

He’s talking about the garage—a place I used to consider a second home. It’s unreal what time and distance can do. It now seems like a lifetime ago. It takes some effort to keep from turning the corner and laying eyes on Russell. But I don’t because he doesn’t seem the least bit interested in seeing me. Maybe it has everything to do with Tobias and his menacing presence.

But it doesn’t matter. These men aren’t my friends. They’re in on secrets I’m not privy to. Where once I belonged, now I’m just a liability.

“See you around, Cee,” Jeremy says from by my side, but I don’t look his way. I don’t utter a word. And I can feel his disappointment before he turns and leaves.

I turn up the TV to drown out any conversation with Tobias. I’m relieved when he busies himself on his laptop. A few minutes pass before he pauses his keys when the anchor speaks up with a breaking bulletin.

“Last night, a known terrorist leader was killed in a successful operation led by the US Military. Shortly after the news broke, the target was portrayed by a major media outlet as an ‘Austere Religious Scholar’ leaving some Americans outraged who’ve started to voice their objections on social media—”

“Bullshit!”

“Bullshit!”

Our shared reaction has me turning to Tobias, who stands equally as perplexed on his side of the counter. He runs a hand down his face in frustration as I turn back and click off the TV. We stand in silence for a few seconds before he turns and tosses his coffee in the sink. “This is fucking terrible.”

“I agree, since when is it okay for reporters to humanize terror—”

“No, the coffee. You need a French press and a decent grind.”

Baffled, I stare at his back, his shirt a light blue, fitted perfectly to outline his broad frame.

“Well, you’ve spoiled your French tongue. I’m sure you had a plethora of tastes to choose from.”

He turns his head, before placing a palm on the counter and facing me with a cocked brow. “Are we still talking about coffee?”

“Of course, we are,” I snap, perplexed. “And at this point, I’m surprised you haven’t changed your address here for Prime Delivery.”

His light chuckle fills the kitchen. I wrap my hand around my waist as he scrutinizes me from where he stands.

“You truly do care about them.”

I inhale a breath for patience. “I told you a dozen times already. Our deal wasn’t even necessary. You’re the one that gave me the card to play. I would have kept my silence with or without our deal.”

He lifts one side of his mouth. “Can’t be too careful. You know. ‘Hell hath no fury—”

I slash my hand through the air. “‘A bird, unable to fly, is still a bird; but a human unable to love is an inexpensive stone.’” I retort dryly and walk to where he stands, setting my cup in the sink beside him before lifting my eyes to his. “Like I said, you’re incapable of my kind of currency.” It’s then I feel the spike, and it’s unavoidable. His eyes flame brighter with each passing second as we face-off.

“Endearment, adoration, devotion, warmth, attachment; also synonyms for love.” I turn to head upstairs and he jerks my elbow, pulling me flush against him. Electricity pings between us, stunning me for several seconds. It’s both lightning and thunder without warning. Between his striking physical attributes, the burn in his gaze and his mouth-watering smell, it’s getting impossible to play immune. The intensity of my attraction keeps shifting. The more I try to deny it, the more it rears its ugly head.