Page 55 of Vandal Unbound

The corner of his mouth twitches in a smile. “Havoc should learn to keep his mouth shut.”

“It was good of you.” I don’t need to tell him how dire things had gotten. But the money I’ve saved on groceries afforded me the opportunity to buy Elsie new sneakers. “But for the record, Elsie and I don’t need a twelve-pack of chicken breasts. I froze eight of them.”

He reaches out and wraps one of my curls around his finger. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

Every clatter and bang when we open the fridge or put a pan on the stove causes us both to stop and stare in the direction of Elsie’s room.

“She’s usually a good sleeper,” I say as the burgers sizzle.

“I envy that,” Vandal says, and there’s a wistfulness that tells me he means every word.

“You don’t sleep well?” I slice up a tomato. Enough for the two burgers.

He shakes his head. “Not really. Is there any of the potato salad left?”

I know when a man is changing the subject, but I find it sweet he remembers what he ordered for us. “Yeah. Bottom shelf.”

When the burgers are ready, I put them onto a plate and slide it along the counter to him.

Vandal grabs the knife I sliced the tomatoes with, cuts a burger in half, and then hands it to me. “You can’t make a meal for me and not have any of it for yourself.”

“I already ate dinner with Elsie.”

He keeps the burger offered to me. “Don’t make me eat alone, Daze.”

In fairness, the scent of the burgers made me hungry, so I take it. And Vandal waits for me to take a bite before taking one of his own.

I laugh as I chew. “Were you waiting to see if I’d poisoned them or something?”

He shakes his head while he mumbles through a mouthful of food, “Just wanted to make sure you were getting fed before me.”

I cover my mouth. “That’s very chivalrous.”

He shrugs but continues to eat. For the most part, it’s a silent but not awkward affair. In between bites, we clean up. I put the container of potato salad away; Vandal rinses the pan. We do it as silently as we cooked, but occasionally, we brush against each other.

He places his hands on my shoulders when he walks back from the fridge. And I find myself placing my hand on his chest as I reach for the knife.

Maybe it’s the domestic intimacy, but the air between us becomes painfully intense.

When we’re done, he takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom. I wonder if he’s going to stay the night and then wonder whether I want him to.

I miss the comfort of falling asleep with a man next to me. And it’s a long while since I had sex, casual or otherwise.

“Get in,” he says, and I do as he says. He brushes his knuckle down my cheek. “Thank you for turning today around for me.”

But just when he moves as if to leave, I say five words I probably shouldn’t. Five words that have no place in my life.

“Do you want to stay?”

17

VANDAL

Never has an invitation sounded more inviting. And it takes everything I am to not strip and climb in next to her. Because even though my life is on this steady nosedive, I know Daisy deserves better than a quick fuck.

So I do the only thing I can think of that’s more intimate than fucking.

“Yes, but there’s some things I want to tell you first. I want to tell you why I am like I am right now.”