Fractured (Deep In Your Veins 5)

“Well…” I sat upright, smoothed out my shredded top and adjusted the thin straps. At least my wounds had healed. “I’d better go. We have a meeting soon.” Both our squads met with Sam and Jared most evenings.

I went to get up, but his hand landed on my thigh. A hand I knew was seriously talented. Even with my pants separating his skin from mine, it made something low in my stomach clench.

“Starting a bar fight…I wouldn’t have expected that of you.”

I frowned. “I didn’t start it.”

“You threw the first punch. I saw you.”

He was watching me?

“What did she say to you?” Something dark and dangerous moved behind his eyes.

I forced a dismissive shrug. “Not much.”

“Bullshit.” He braced himself on one elbow. “You don’t start fights. You don’t punch people for no reason. And you don’t go bat-shit for the fun of it.”

“Maybe I do. You don’t know me.”

His gaze raked over me, lingering a little on my cleavage. “Oh, I know you.”

“In the biblical sense,” I allowed.

“I know plenty of things about you. I know you disappear into a book every time you’re stressed out. I know your biggest fear is again being used to hurt people with your gift—so much that you even have nightmares about it. I know you have an aversion to toads, and you can’t lie for shit.”

I narrowed my eyes. That was the thing about him. He paid attention. Was perceptive on a level I wouldn’t have thought possible. And I could so lie, thank you very much.

His eyes dropped to my throat. “And I know you taste like fucking heaven. Everywhere.” He skimmed his nose under my jaw, inhaling. Then, in under the time it took to blink, he’d slipped from the bed and pulled on some jeans. It was a struggle to tear my eyes away from his bare, well-defined chest. The guy was deliciously ripped. Moreover, he oozed a dark, raw sex appeal that commanded attention.

“I have coffee-flavoured NSTs. You want one?” He was referring to Nutritive Supplemental Tonics that contained blood and vitamins. The previous ruler, Antonio, had developed them. They quickly got to work on the thirst and they gave a good boost, but only pure blood quenched the thirst. “Or I can fix you something to eat, if you want,” offered Butch.

I pursed my lips, eyeing him as I slid into my shoes. “You’re being weird.” I mean, it wasn’t like him to be…courteous. In general, Butch never did anything he didn’t have to do. Interfering in the bar fight, bringing me here, offering to make me breakfast—none of those things were necessary. The times I’d woken here before, he’d been distant, sending me an ‘it was just sex’ message. “Is this your way of trying to apologise for what you did last week?”

“What should I be apologising for?” He wasn’t being flippant. He seemed genuinely confused.

“Chasing away the guy I was dancing with.” He’d stalked right over to us in the club, caused a scene—

“You should be thanking me for that.”

I picked up my purse and followed him into the kitchen. “Thanking you?”

“You barely even knew the guy,” he said, pulling two NSTs out of the fridge. “But you were hurting. Something was bothering you, and you wanted to forget”—I’d wanted to forget there was a blonde trying to rub herself all over Butch at the other side of the club—“so you were going to go home with that asshole. You would have regretted it at dawn.”

Actually, he was probably right.

He pointed an NST at me. “If you wanted to be fucked that badly, Imani, you should have come to me.” He slammed one bottle on the breakfast bar, twisted the cap off his own, and drained the bottle—his dark gaze never leaving mine.

“Did you really just say that?”

Chucking the empty bottle in the trash, he braced his hands on the breakfast bar. “I did. And here’s the thing: I’m done waiting for you.”

I tensed, confused by his words and stunned by the raw need that momentarily blazed in his eyes. I hadn’t seen that look in a long time. It took a few seconds before I could speak. All that came out was, “What?”

“I had to watch you with that human for seven months. Seven. Long. Fucking. Months. The only thing that stopped me from hurting him was that he made you happy. But then he didn’t, and now he’s gone. I decided to give you a month to get your head straight before I made a move. That time is now up.”

I shook my head. “I told you I was done with being a bed-buddy. I want—”

“More. A relationship. The problem is I’m not good for people. I don’t know how to make another person happy. That was why I let you go. And I’ve regretted it ever fucking since. I didn’t think I’d get another chance with you. But I have, and I’m taking it. You want a relationship? Fine. But I won’t be easy to deal with, Imani. Know that straight up. I’m aggressive and selfish, not to mention dangerously fucking possessive when it comes to you.”

He had to be kidding…but I knew he wasn’t. Butch was a direct person. He didn’t play games. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.” He opened my NST and slid it to me. “Drink.”

Feeling a little dazed, I picked up the bottle. “Where is all this coming from?” It felt seriously shit. “You’ve never acted even remotely possessive.” Protective, sure, but that was different.

“Why do you think I almost snapped Leo’s spine?”

Leo was a member of the legion who I’d liked right up until he grabbed my ass and mentioned how much he’d like to fuck it. “It was you that beat the shit out of him?”

“He touched what wasn’t his to touch.”

I could only gape. This whole conversation was just…I mean…what the fuck? It had totally blindsided me. Seemed too bizarre to be true. I didn’t know how to process it, and I didn’t know how to feel about it.

He watched my throat work as I drank the NST. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking I need to go.”

His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. “You know what I like about you, Imani? I don’t have to play guessing games with you. You let it all hang out. If you’re pissed, you show it. If you’re happy, you show it. If you’ve got something you want to say, you just say it. Right now, you’re closing down on me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”