8
Mercy
A scrapof the curtain being jerked aside was followed by a blare of sunlight on my closed eyelids. I groaned, shielding my face against the sudden brightness, and rolled over on the bed.
When I looked up, I found myself staring right into Wylder’s striking green eyes. He was leaning over me, his face just inches from mine. At the sight, I woke up completely, with a jolt that made me hit my head hard against the headboard. I winced.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snarled, rubbing the sore spot.
“You seem to have forgotten, so I’ll politely remind you. This is my house.” Wylder offered a lazy smirk and stepped back. “If you don’t enjoy my hospitality, you’re welcome to shack up somewhere else overnight.”
I made a face at him. “I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go.” Not even my own house really belonged to me anymore, not with Steel Knights thugs staked out on the street outside. “And shouldn’t you be happy to have me at your beck and call?”
The edge in my voice didn’t appear to faze Wylder at all. If anything, his smirk widened. “Oh, don’t worry, I am.”
“Rise and shine,” Kaige declared from behind him. Before I knew what was happening, he’d scooped me right out from under the covers and up into his arms. As he carried me toward the door, I squirmed in his arms, twisting this way and that until his grip loosened.
Landing a solid kick, I spun from his hold and onto my feet—a little too easily considering his bulk. Annoyed by the suspicion that he’d let me win and by that cocky grin he was now aiming at me, I shook a fist at him. “Try to carry me off again and the next thing getting carried will be your ass into a morgue.”
A laugh exploded out of him. That wasn’t the reaction I’d been going for. “You’ll think it’s less funny when you find out how serious I am,” I informed him.
Wylder tsked. “Careful, the kitty cat hasn’t been declawed after all.”
I bristled all over again. “Don’t call me that.”
Wylder just kept smirking. “Come on, you’ve made us late for breakfast. And I, for one, am absolutely starving.”
I followed them to the kitchen where Gideon and Rowan were waiting, talking to Anthea. Rowan was wearing one of what seemed to be his usual suits, looking overdressed next to all the other guys in their jeans and casual button-ups.
Gideon had a cup of coffee in his hand, stroking the handle as if he was protective of it. His tongue flicked out over the silver ring that protruded from one side of his lower lip. I couldn’t help tracking the movement. There was something weirdly sensual about it that provoked a response I didn’t entirely like low in my belly. Even with his bizarre blue hair and cool eyes, Gideon was just as good-looking as the others in a remote, alien sort of way.
I looked up to see Anthea observing me like a hawk and quickly averted my gaze.
There was nothing cooking on the stove yet. Even though I was wary of her, Anthea was a damn good chef, and the thought of her French toast was making my mouth water. I glanced around. “What’s for breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” Wylder said. “Why don’t you tell us, since you’re the one cooking today?”
I took a few steps back. Abso-fucking-lutely not. “I can’t cook. At all.” That wasn’t technically true. I had to make myself food all the time, but only basics like a PB&J sandwich. No way was I up to Anthea’s level. And I could just tell she’d jump on any reason to criticize my efforts.
Wylder shrugged. “Too bad. You’re going to today. So, chop, chop. Get to it.”
I suppressed a sigh. The ache in my fingers after the many weeds I’d yanked out of the lawn yesterday were all the reminder I needed that what Wylder wanted, Wylder got—unlessIwanted to forget my whole revenge plan and spend the rest of my life in hiding, stewing ineffectually over Colt’s betrayal. Fuck.
Well, if he didn’t like my breakfast, he’d have no one to blame but himself, now would he?
I reluctantly stepped behind the stove, even grabbing a polka-dotted apron that was hanging from a hook on the wall. Everything in the kitchen seemed so harmless and homely, it almost didn’t feel that it belonged in a house belonging to Ezra Noble, the gang boss revered by everybody in Paradise Bend.
“I think I want bacon,” Wylder said after he seemed to ponder over it for a few seconds. “What about you, Kaige?”
The brawny asshole grinned with a gleam in his eyes that suggested he was remembering our secret adventure last night. At least it seemed like he’d kept his mouth shut about that like he’d said he would. He tapped his chin cheekily. “I like the sound of an onion and cheese omelet.”
“I’ve already eaten,” Anthea said with a hint of disdain.
Gideon didn’t bother looking up from his coffee. “Whatever they’re having. Food is just fuel.”
“I thoughtIwas deciding what’s for breakfast,” I said. “Who said anything about taking orders?”
“Rowan?” Wylder asked, ignoring me.