Peter thinks Noelle is his “in.” Little does he realize Edward would happily eat his lunch while he watched one of his men snap Peter’s neck.
“I’m losing my patience, Peter.” I glance at him, noting his shaking hands despite his smirk. “I suggest you put your tail between your legs and scamper off.”
I pull out a pack of smokes and put one in my mouth, lighting it with my zippo. Peter remains silent, his eyes wide as I take a pull of my cigarette.
“Do you know who my father is?” he demands.
There it is. The little boy can’t stand on his own feet and needs daddy’s name to make an impact. “Your father is no match for me.”
Peter folds his arms and smiles. It’s a “gotcha” smile, like he knows something I don’t. “And you’re no match for her father.”
I take another drag of the cigarette, stepping close to him and blowing the smoke in his smug face. “I’m confident her father will thank us for taking care of the little boy who tried to violate his daughter.”
Uncertainty clouds his eyes. That’s the thing with little punks whose balls haven’t dropped yet. They want to play with the big boys but can’t handle the heat. It’s cute how they swipe and show their teeth in defiance, but in reality, they’re cubs in a den of rabid wolves.
Silence surrounds us like a dense winter fog. This world is seeped in corruption, danger, and manipulation. It’s hard to see if you’re unaccustomed to it. Peter is playing “dress up,” a little boy attempting to do a man’s work.
I take another drag of my cigarette as if I don’t have a care in the world, which I don’t when it comes to him. But I can’t have Cas killing him in broad daylight with witnesses. “So, what’s it gonna be, Peter? Will you live another day, or will you be meeting the Grim Reaper?”
Peter glances from me to Noelle. She’s tense but no longer trying to fight off Cas. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides, and her pretty mouth looks fucking delectable covered in Cas’s blood.
“Tell him you’re fine, Noelle,” I order.
She glances at the sky as if asking heaven for support and guidance. Her chest rises and falls as she takes a deep breath before her eyes land on mine. She looks tired; maybe it’s sadness. Her pretty dark irises appear haunted, like she’s not with us. I want to know what she’s thinking and what she hopes the outcome will be. My heart squeezes as I see a lonely tear roll down her soft cheek.
“I’m fine, Peter. Just go.”
Peter steps toward her, and Cas growls.
“Peter, I suggest you don’t get too close,” I advise. “Cas doesn’t have a good handle on his emotions.”
Peter nods once and walks away, his head down and his shoulders slumped. Even now, he’s pretending he gives a shit about her, but the only thing he cares about is his golden ticket with his daddy.
“You can let me go now, Cas. He’s gone,” Noelle says, wriggling to free herself. “Can’t you control your dick?”
“Not when you keep moving up and down against it. This is your fault.”
“If you let go, the problem will be solved.”
Her elbow connects with Cas’s solar plexus, and he moves back. She leaps away from him, adjusting her hair without taking her eyes off Cas, who’s staggering toward her.
I glance around the yard. No one has paid attention to what happened here. That’s usually how it goes for us; people know we’re here but are too scared to acknowledge us.
Noelle turns to me, her eyes seething with anger. She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t have to. For the first time in my life, I’m ashamed. Not because of what Cas and I did or for running little Peter off. I’m ashamed because there’s nothing I won’t do to claim her.
Noelle thinks she can handle us, but her mother never prepared her for the monsters in our world. She never told Noelle about the two standing beside her with hungry eyes devouring their prey.
“Stay away from me. Both of you,” she says firmly before turning and walking away.
“She has a mean elbow,” Cas says as he stands beside me, and we watch her sexy ass stomp across campus. “I’m not staying away from her.”
“You can’t stay away from something that belongs to you. Little Snow doesn’t know it yet, but she’s claimed.”
Chapter 5
Declan
“We’re going to that party tonight,” Lorne says as he tosses himself on the wingback chair in my room.
I turn to Cas, standing beside the St. Andrews cross, his fingers gliding along the shelf, which holds a variety of whips and floggers. “This room is so creepy. Ever think of modernizing it?”
“That’s rich coming from you. Don’t you get off on draining blood?”