Page 25 of Obsession
Cade lifts his hands, though the smirk on his lips stays. “Didn’t touch him.”
“You looked like you were thinking about it.”
“I think about a lot of things.”
“Try thinking about how attached you are to your teeth.”
Demo makes a strangled sound that might be a laugh and turns it into a cough so quickly he nearly hurts himself. Cade glares at Tally, then at me, then pushes off the doorframe. “Welcome to Obsidian,sweetheart.”
I keep my face still until his footsteps fade down the hall. Tally turns back to me and pushes the plate closer with two fingers.
“Eat.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. If Saint finds out Cade opened his mouth before he came back to establish whatever ridiculous rules he’s planning to establish, I’m going to have to listen to Bricks laugh about it for three days.”
Demo drops into the chair across from me and then sits up straighter, as if he’s remembered I’m not technically company. “Cade’s an asshole.”
“Demo.”
“He is.”
“He’s also useful with a wrench, so we tolerate the rest until he crosses a line.” Tally looks at me more carefully. “You tell Saint.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“That wasn’t phrased like a suggestion.”
“I don’t want to start anything.” I stuff my face with a bite, trying to give me something else to focus on but her gaze feels like it’s going through me.
Demo looks genuinely confused. “You wouldn’t be starting it. Cade started it when he opened his mouth.”
“That’s not how clubs work,” I say before I can stop myself.
Tally’s expression changes just slightly, not pity exactly, but something that lands close enough to make me look down at the food. “Maybe not with the Rogues.”
She lets the silence sit as I stuff the rest of breakfast into my mouth, avoiding both her and Demo’s glances.
The rest of the day unfolds in small, disorienting pieces. Nobody tells me where to go, but everyone notices where I am. Tally gives me what she calls a practical tour, which means she shows me the clean towels, the laundry room, the kitchen pantry, the bathroom that doesn’t flood, the hallway not to use unless I want to interrupt people counting cash or stitching somebody up, and the door to the basement she tells me not to open unless Saint or Moth says so. Demo joins us for part of it, apparently under the impression that commentary is helpful if delivered with enough panic.
“That’s the game room,” he says, pointing through a half-open door. “Pool, darts, cards. Don’t play cards with Bricks unless you like losing money and hearing about how you lost money for the next six months.”
Tally adds, “Don’t play darts with Moth.”
“Why?”
Demo glances around before answering, like Moth might appear through the wall. “He doesn’t miss, and he remembers if you do.”
We pass a closed office near the back hallway, and Tally’s pace shifts by half a step. It’s subtle enough that Demo doesn’t notice. I do.
“That’s Moth’s office,” she says. “Knock if you’re expected. Don’t go near it if you aren’t.”
Demo lowers his voice. “He keeps the route board in there.”
Tally gives him a look.
“What?” Demo says, spreading his hands. “Oisín’s logistics too, right?”
