Page 99 of Beautiful Prey

“How was work?” Reaching across the table, I take his jaw between my fingers. He tries to jerk free, but I tighten my grip, holding him as I tilt his face to catch the full force of that green scowl.

“Let go of me.”

“Do you want me to?”

He stops pulling and glares at me instead.

“That’s what I thought.” I hold him another second because I can, then let my hand fall. “Work. How was it?”

“Work was fine, until you decided to drag me here.”

“You wanted to go back to work. I let you. Tonight, I wanted dinner.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“No.” I lift my glass. “I don’t ask when the answer might be no.”

His fingers clench around the edge of the table. “I don’t get to just leave work whenever I feel like it.”

“What? You don’t prefer sitting in a nice bar with me to being underground?” Yeah, it’s childish. Fuck him if it doesn’t sting a little.

“I don’t.” His shoulders sag as he pulls back. “I can’t just... do that. I get paid by the hour, so leaving early means less pay. And the men...” His gaze drops. “They talk.”

I get it.

I don’t like it.

“You won’t lose a credit. I own the mine, Jade. I own the crew, the ledger, and the floor you stand on. You’ll be paid for a full shift, and for every shift after this one you don’t feel like showing up for. Anyone who talks answers to me. Nobody touches your pay, and nobody touches you.”

He stares at me for a long moment, then laughs without a trace of humor, shaking his head. “You can do that. Wave a hand, and it’s done. You have no idea what it’s like to actually need the hours.”

“Then stop needing them.” I lean in and set my glass aside. “That’s the whole point.”

“That is the point. You can leave. That’s what you don’t understand. Whenever you’re bored with this, you hop into something expensive and go home. I don’t. This is it. This is all of it.” He sets his glass down hard enough to slop champagne over the rim. “You get to come down here, pull my life apart, and then leave. I’ll still be here tomorrow, with my brother coughing in the next room.”

“You don’t have to be. I’ve already told you that.” I hold his stare. “You’re already mine.”

He lets out a short, disbelieving sound. “So how do I make myself un-yours, Asher? That’s the part I can’t figure out. I mean, I can’t risk this. I can’t risk you. This is all I have.”

I take him in. The green of his eyes has gone dull with fatigue, his skin paler than it was yesterday, and his mouth is shaking on a face that’s trying very hard not to come apart.

“You look exhausted. What happened? And don’t tell me you missed my bed, because you could’ve just come home to me.”

He shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable, you know? I feel like I’m talking to myself because you don’t listen to a damn thing anyway.”

“No, I don’t, because I know what I want. And right now, I want to know why you look so tired, pet.”

For a long moment, he says nothing. Then, grudgingly, he admits, “Onyx had a bad night. He couldn’t stop coughing and couldn’t get air down. I sat up holding him until it passed. He hasn’t been right since... not since the restaurant. Not since that night in your hotel. He got a taste of a life he can’t have, and now the flat’s too small and the air’s too thin, and he keeps asking when we’re going back.”

He looks up at me, and nothing remains on his face but tiredness. “So do me a favor. Stay away from us. Both of us. Stop showing him a door that shuts the second you get bored, because I’m the one who has to watch his face when it does.”

Stay away from us.

He thinks he means it, and perhaps he does. That doesn’t mean I believe him. If he wants me gone, fine. I’ll take that wish the same way I take everything else. By the time I’m done with it, he’ll wonder how he ever wanted anything different.

I let none of that show, reaching for the bottle instead. “Here’s what we’re going to do.” Working the cork loose, I send it popping free. “For one hour, you’re going to stop carrying everything. You’re going to sit here with me. We’ll have some champagne, celebrate the moments we’ve shared, and then we’ll see whether you still want me gone.”

Watching me pour two glasses, he narrows his eyes. “The moments we’ve shared together?”