When I finally pull back, releasing her, V’s brown eyes peer at me, peppered with hostility. Her lips are red where I kissed her raw. Her hair is mussed from where I threaded my fingers through it and yanked. It’ll need to be redone.
Shame. She looks utterly fuckable.
“Don’t mind me,” Duke’s sister cuts in, liquid green eyes roaming the scene as she takes us in, clipboard propped up, of all things, in her hands. “Actually, do mind me because I’m obviously going to have to do Viola’s hair and makeup again.” She tosses her head with a sigh when I don’t acknowledge her or leave and stands next to the dressing table. “Well?”
V scowls and shoves me away to get down off the stool. She gives me one last glance in the dresser’s mirror as I lean against the doorframe to watch her get ready.
Saskia throws me a dark look. “If you’re going to stay, pass me that veil.”
I have to hand it to Duke’s sister; she’s no longer acting afraid of me. I do as she asks and take the veil over to her. Saskia starts fussing with it just as Viola crosses her legs and attaches more knives.
I’ve seen enough. I also know enough. The necklace is burning a hole in my pocket. She should have noticed by now that it’s gone.
“The rest is up to you,” I remind her as I walk out the door.
Vice isin the parlor with Duke and Marques. They stop talking when I enter. Marques looks like he’s been hit by a bus.
“I’m going to the gym,” I say to him. “You’re coming too.”
Then I walk out.
Viola will have her hands full today. The last thing she needs is one of her shadows fucking up. By some miracle, Jude turns up dressed in his shorts, followed by the other two giving me dark glares. They do a few rounds with me before we run it off.
There’s potential there; I’ll give them that. Duke has the better technique. At the same time, Jude relies on his brute strength too much. And Vice, well, he’s entirely out of shape. But he doesn’t back down, not even when I push him harder than the other two, physically and mentally.
Vice is seething, holding his side when we’re finished. “I need to fucking sit down a minute,” he says. I give him a look but say nothing. The wound in my chest is aching. If I can work through the pain, so can these three fucking clowns.
Jude grunts and sits down next to him. “I’m with you. I can’t fucking take another step.”
Duke, who hasn’t spoken one word since he entered the gym, shakes his head at me. “Come on. We need to talk.”
“Are we doing this now?” I ask as I dry the sweat off my face.
“Now,” he says, turning away and walking to the running machines.
I casually walk over and step onto the one next to him. Only when we’re at a good pace does he open his mouth.
“I told you I’d feed you to the fucking ducks if you hurt her,” he snaps.
“V can take care of herself,” is my answer. “And I haven’t hurt her,” I say. Yet.
Duke grunts a nod. “Not yet, but you’re hiding something, and I don’t fucking like it.”
“We all have secrets,” I say, exhaling, wishing I’d taken the scenic route so I could run in peace.
“Like your father? Viola told us,” Duke grimaces, between intakes of breath. “You know that fucker, Savino, is my father too, so that makes us goddamn related.”
“V talks too much.”
Duke sneers. “I want to meet the fucker.”
I grit my teeth and say nothing. I was being charitable, making them join me, and now I regret it.
Even more so when Quinn, hair in a tight ponytail and wearing all the gear, joins us and makes a beeline for the running machine next to mine.
“Viola told me, you know,” Quinn says as soon as she gets into a rhythm and Duke is out of earshot. I have to admire her for getting straight down to business. “About your deal,” she pants.
Are they fucking tag-teaming me today or what?