Page 109 of I am Dressed in Sin (Death by Daybreak MC 2)
“Jesus Mary motherfucking Christ,” I choke out, and somehow, I end up on my knees in front of her, like I’m praying.
“D-don’t take those names in vain,” Reba manages to whisper back at me as Beast crosses his arms in front of him and lowers his gaze. He does not, however, turn away because he’s that good. He’s that worried about me. About being here.
My friend scrambles to get her towel from the towel bar, covering herself with it and scrambling out of the tub to kneel beside me. The water is still running, the heat of it fogging up the mirror and warming the room. Neither of us gives a shit.
We’re alternately crying and laughing, but I’m not sure who’s doing which exactly. There are tears either way.
“I can’t believe you’re alive,” I whisper, swallowing hard and stroking some of her bloodred hair back from her pale face. This is, was, and will forever remain one of my favorite moments in life. It trumps most things I’ve experienced and then ties the rest.
Some of her hair comes loose again as she laughs, swinging in front of her pale throat, reminding me of her mother’s second smile.
Shit.
“To tell you the truth, darlin’, I didn’t see myself making it out alive either.” She lifts her head up and spots Beast still standing there. A very sharp, very clear frown takes over her face. “You, sir, are a brute. There is a naked lady in here. Didn’t your mama raise you better than that? Close the dang door.”
Even with his head bowed, I feel like I can see a bit of a smile on Beast’s face.
Both he and Reba were born and raised in Tennessee. One from Nashville, the other from Chattanooga. They have similar accents, but very different personalities.
“My mama raised me to find the right woman and treat her right, Miss Keller. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He taps the barrel of the gun against his thigh, like a reminder of the current situation we’re in.
Right.
Grey.
Gaz.
The mafia.
I rise to my feet, taking Reba’s face between my hands as she frowns up at me.
“What happened to you anyway?” she asks, more concerned for my well-being than her own. As always. Forever. A real and true friend. How someone as wicked and horrible as me ever managed to snag one of those, I’m not sure I’ll ever understand. I guess it emphasizes what Beast said, about the world being more gray than it is black and white.
This, me being Reba’s friend when she’s a vastly superior human, is like the color of fog, silvery and wispy and oh so many shades of gray.
“What happened to me?” I sputter, releasing her face and then grabbing her hand. I pull her up and drag her toward the door, but she digs her heels in and gives me one of her famous looks.
“I am not walking into that room with a bunch of grown men when I have no clothes on—especially not if that man is out there.” We both know who she’s talking about, and I hate to admit it, but it’s true.
“It’s motherfucking Grainger,” I agree as Beast withdraws into the room to stay by my side, and Reba closes the bathroom door with a very ladylike snick. I turn back to Grey. My most irritating lover still has his gun trained on the guy. “Can you please put that gun down?” I ask, but Cade ignores me. I curl my lip at him but arguing with Grainger is a pointless exercise.
I refocus on Grey instead.
“I’m glad to see you’ve found your place in the club,” he tells me, which is about as shady and underhanded as one can get. It reminds me of the way he used to murmur Italian things to me every morning, just to annoy me with that crisp accent of us.
“The last I saw you, you had a gun to my best friend’s forehead.” I don’t mention the dead parents just yet. There’ll be time for that later. “What the hell happened, Grey?”
He wets his lips, eyes flicking to Grainger. Their gazes meet, and the latter’s finger tenses on the trigger of the Ruger.
“Don’t you dare,” I hiss at him, my voice darkly serious. “If you hurt him, I will never forgive you. My love will die on the vine, Grainge.”
“Your love?” he chokes out, his eyes flying to mine. “Jesus Christ, girl. Are you nuts?” He withdraws the gun finally, resting the butt of it on his shoulder, the barrel pointed at the ceiling. “Don’t even go there. Nobody ever said anything about love.”
“If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t have lied, you dumbass,” I snort, shaking my head and shoving my dark hair back from my face. Grainger straight up growls at me, but I’m not listening to him right now. “Well?” I press, trying not to get too weird about how long Reba’s been in the bathroom.
