Page 16 of Dark Knight
Romero. It’s Romero.And it’s Romero who smells incredible, whose touch is so warm and almost caring. He’s touching me, and I’m not freaking out–no, actually, I feel better. My heart isn’t pounding out of control anymore. He lifts the hand from my mouth, and I’m able to whisper.
“There’s somebody at the door.”
Like the stranger heard me, the man on the other side knocks again. “Yo, Pierce! It’s freezing out here!”
His eyes close for a brief moment. “It’s just a couple of old friends of mine. They’re not here to hurt anybody.”
“Romer-o!” a second voice calls out. “Where you at?”
“Two old friends,” Romero mutters before sighing and raising his voice. “Give me a goddamn minute, assholes.” The knowing laughter on the other side of the door tells me they don’t take his response personally.
“You have friends?”
He tips his head to the side. “You’re feeling better if you can be a smartass. Now, listen to me.” His blue eyes narrow to slits. “We don’t talk about what I do for work. Understood? Not a single word. I don’t even want them to know your last name.”
“You called them your friends. Why wouldn’t they know what you do for work?”
“Friends is a very loose word. I haven’t seen them in ten years. I don’t know anything about the people they are now.” He side-eyes the door when the guys call out again–teasing, taunting, maybe even a little bit drunk.
A lot can change in ten years. The brooding kid who showed up at my house somehow turned into a full-grown man full of secrets and suspicious of everybody around him. A man who smells like leather and coffee and something that does things to me it shouldn’t. My insides get all hot and jumpy, and I wish he would touch me again because his touch makes my breath come fast, but not out of fear.
“Just for once, keep your mouth shut,” he warns. “And maybe try not being a rich brat for a few minutes.”
Like magic, my insides go cold. I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth like that could erase his touch. “I can’t wait to ask your friends if you were always a heartless asshole.”
And just like a heartless asshole, all he does is snicker on his way to the door, which he opens to allow a pair of guys his age inside. They practically tumble into the kitchen like two big, goofy dogs who throw their arms around Romero for a split second before punching his shoulders while shoving him around.
Typical men. They don’t know what to do with their feelings, so they’ll beat the hell out of each other.
Their questions overlap. Where’s he been? When did he get back? Why didn’t he reach out? “We heard you were walking around this afternoon,” the taller of the two says. He’s the one I saw in the window–his friend’s hair is sandy blond and long enough to brush the back of his neck. “I didn’t believe it. I figured somebody put you out of your misery years ago.”
“Or you got yourself locked up,” the blond chuckles, elbowing Romero while wearing a smirk. He has a scar running down his cheek, and I don’t think it came from shaving.
Only now do they notice me standing by the stove, and it’s then that they both go silent. “Uh…” the dark-haired one grunts, while the blond clears his throat.
Romero’s clearly at a loss, too, which would make this maybe the first time I’ve ever seen him that way. I could get used to it. He’s almost…human. “Tatum, this is Dex.” The blond gives me a jerk of the chin. “And Austin.” The dark-haired one gives me a little wave.
“I was just about to start dinner,” I announce, and no meal anywhere in the world could be as delicious as the discomfort that twists Romero’s features at that announcement. It doesn’t even matter that they’re strangers, and I don’t know what to expect from them–besides, he could take both of them out with one arm tied behind his back. “I could make extra if you’d like to stay for dinner?”
The way their eyes gleam doesn’t mean half as much as the way Romero’s darken. As soon as his icy gaze lands on mine, I feel myself growing warmer. Who does he think he is? If he thinks I’m going to pass up this opportunity to discover all of his dirty secrets, he’s out of his damn mind.
CHAPTER7
ROMERO
Lord, please give me the strength I need not to murder her.Why does she have to be this way?It’s times like this I wish her father wasn’t who he is. I might be able to get away with leaving her on her own, washing my hands of the whole damn thing. Why did this ever seem like a good idea? It’s not enough that I have to deal with her. Now, I have the past staring me right in the face.Literally.
“I could eat.” Dex exchanges a look with Austin, who nods eagerly. At least one thing hasn’t changed: neither could ever pass up a free meal. Although, back in the day, it was more because they couldn’t count on a meal at home. They couldn’t depend on much of anything at home. It was something we all had in common.
How much could we possibly have in common now?I’m not really in the mood to find out. That probably makes me a shitty person, but I never claimed to be a saint. A lot of water has passed under the proverbial bridge since the night I left this house for what I figured would be the last time. They can’t know about a lot of shit, and I’ve got this unpredictable, spoiled brat in the mix. What happened to being afraid of them? Now she’s inviting them to stay for dinner.
I realize they are looking at me, waiting for… what? Permission? “If you want to pull up a chair, go ahead,” I offer with a shrug.
Dex smirks, clapping me on the back with a chapped hand that looks like it’s been put to hard use. “Shit, don’t be so warm and welcoming. I might burst out crying.“
Austin, meanwhile, nods slowly as he looks me up and down with the same shrewd, steel-gray eyes my mother used to callhaunted. He grew up seeing things no kid should have ever seen, back when this town was at its worst and his mom did what she needed to do to get by.
“You look good. A hell of a lot better than I figured you would after all this time..”