Chapter Three
Ellie
I watched Chains hesitate at my threshold, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as Binx wound between his legs like a furry serpent.
The cat’s purr rumbled in the silence between us.
Chains looked down at Binx, then back at me, his steel-blue eyes unreadable in the dim light of my apartment.
Something shifted in his expression, a small surrender, and he stepped inside.
“Thanks for humoring me,” I said, closing the door behind him. “Binx doesn’t usually take to strangers. I wanted to see if he could coax the others to like you.” I smiled up at him, really studying his reaction.
Chains grunted, scouting out my new living space with his gaze.
My suite was pretty big, considering it was just me.
The cats had plenty of room. Not that it seemed to make a difference.
They’d already figured out how to open the door so they could go wherever they wanted.
Despite the size, it felt cozy. Unpacked boxes still sat in one corner, and my Halloween decorations claimed territory on every available surface.
Black candles stood on mismatched holders, and strands of fairy lights cast a warm orange glow across the walls.
The lingering scent of sage and lavender incense hung in the air, masking whatever remained of my potion disaster.
“Still getting settled,” I explained, suddenly self-conscious about the clutter. I hadn’t expected company, especially not one of the guys. Most of them were slightly terrifying, but I found Chains surprisingly disarming. Probably the way he pretended not to like my cats when he clearly did.
“It’s fine,” he said, his voice low and rough. He stood awkwardly in the center of my living room, looking too large for the space, too wild for the domesticity.
Lucifer chose that moment to emerge from the bedroom, his yellow eyes narrowing at the sight of our visitor. His back arched, fur standing on end as he released a hiss that would have made a cobra proud.
“Lucifer,” I scolded. “Be nice.”
Chains tensed, his jaw tightening. “That one doesn’t like me.”
“He doesn’t like anyone,” I assured him. “It’s why he’s named Lucifer.”
Salem appeared next, perching on my bookshelf like a sentinel. She watched us with careful, calculating eyes, her tail swishing slowly back and forth.
“That’s Salem,” I said, nodding toward her. “She’s the strategist of the group. Always plotting something.”
Chains glanced up at Salem, then back at Binx, who continued to circle his legs with relentless devotion. Seemed at least one of my babies had decided Chains was an all-right guy. “And this one?”
“Binx is the lover,” I explained, watching as my normally reserved cat rubbed his head against Chains’ boot. “He’s the nurturer, though he’s never been this friendly with a stranger before. He must sense something in you he likes.”
Chains looked down at Binx with a mixture of confusion, reluctant fascination, and maybe even resignation. His shoulders, which had been rigid since entering, dropped slightly. He exhaled, a long breath that seemed to carry some of his tension with it.
“You can sit if you want,” I offered, gesturing to the couch which had come with the apartment. I had mismatched pillows on each end and a blanket folded and draped over the back. All Halloween-themed, of course. “Unless you’re afraid Binx will follow you.”
A hint of a smile touched Chains’ lips. “I think he’s gonna follow me anyway.” It was only a small thing, but when his lips curled even that smallest bit, when his eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the corners, I knew I was in real trouble. Because this man was absolutely devastating.
He lowered himself onto the couch slowly, his massive frame making the furniture look small. Binx immediately jumped up beside him, then boldly climbed onto his lap. Chains froze, hands hovering in the air as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“He wants you to pet him,” I said, sitting in the armchair across from him. “If you dare.”
Chains shot me a look that might have been annoyance or amusement, I couldn’t tell. Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, he lowered one hand to Binx’s back. The cat arched into his touch, purr intensifying.
I watched, transfixed, as Chains’ large, tattooed hand moved in slow, lazy strokes along Binx’s spine. His fingers were long, his touch gentler than I’d expected. A shiver ran through me as I imagined those same hands on my skin, tracing patterns, exploring with that same careful attention.
“Never had pets,” Chains said suddenly, breaking the silence. His eyes remained on Binx.
“Never? Not even as a kid?”
He shook his head. “Wasn’t allowed. Foster parents never had dogs ‘cause a couple of the boys livin’ there hurt the one they had before I came.”
“That’s sad,” I said. “Everyone should experience the love of an animal at least once.”
His lips twitched. “You call this love? Pretty sure your other cat wants to murder me in my sleep.”
I laughed. “Lucifer wants to murder everyone in their sleep. It’s part of his charm.”
“You realize cats don’t really like you? They tolerate you because you’re a sure source of food and shelter. And the occasional treat.”
“Isn’t that the way with people too? Quit puttin’ out and they bail.” Yeah. Not my best conversation.
Another silence fell between us, heavier than before. I studied him as he petted Binx, noting the tension in his shoulders despite his gentle touch on my pussy. I mean cat! “So,” I tried again. “How long have you been with the Kiss of Death?”
“‘Bout a year,” he replied, gaze still fixed on Binx. “Since I got out.” I knew what he meant, of course. Out of prison. It wasn’t a secret around here.
“Do you like it? Being part of the club, I mean.”
Chains finally looked up, his blue eyes meeting mine. “Yeah. Told you. They’re family.”
“That must be nice,” I said softly. “Having people who have your back no matter what.”
Something flickered across his face, too quick to catch. “You don’t have family?”
I shrugged, picking at a loose thread on my armchair.
“My father’s alive, but we’re not close.
Haven’t spoken in years.” This wasn’t something I wanted to talk about with a total stranger.
In fact, the only other person in my life who knew what’d happened all those years ago was my grandmother, and she was dead.
Anyone else who knew was only interested in small town scandals.
“His loss,” Chains said, so quietly I almost missed it. My heart stuttered. I wasn’t sure if he meant it, or was just being polite, but the words warmed me all the same.
“What about you?” I asked. “Any family besides the club?”
His hand stilled on Binx’s back. “No.” The single word carried weight, a door firmly closed. I nodded, not pushing further.
“Sorry,” I said. “I ask too many questions. It’s a habit.”
“‘S okay,” he murmured, resuming his petting. “Just not used to talking much with outsiders.”
“I’ve noticed,” I smiled. “But that’s okay. I can talk enough for both of us.”
A small smile curved his lips, transforming his face again.
I wanted to see more of that smile. Why?
I didn’t know. I just had the feeling this man hadn’t smiled nearly enough in his life.
Despite my past, or maybe because of it, I knew bad men when I saw them.
The pretty facade some of them used to mask their true nature never fooled me.
Not after my childhood. This man was capable of violence when it suited him, but he wasn’t evil.
And he wouldn’t hurt anyone or anything just because he could.
We sat in another stretch of silence, but this one felt different, more comfortable. Lucifer had retreated to a corner, still watching Chains with suspicious eyes. Salem had moved closer, now perched on the arm of the couch, though still maintaining a safe distance.
“They’re coming around,” I observed. “Salem doesn’t usually get this close to new people.”
Chains glanced at Salem, then back at me. “Maybe they know I’m not going anywhere.”
The words hung between us, loaded with meaning I wasn’t sure he intended. Our eyes locked, and something electric passed between us. I felt my cheeks warm under his gaze.
“I mean,” he clarified, breaking eye contact, “living across the hall and all.” He narrowed his gaze as he glanced at Lucifer. “Got my eyes on you, buddy.”
“Right.” I didn’t try to smother my smile. “Neighbors. Because you don’t trust my cats.”
Binx stood up on Chains’ lap, stretching before settling back down, this time with his head tucked under Chains’ hand. The big man looked down at the cat with a mixture of confusion and something that might have been affection.
“Traitor,” I whispered to Binx, who ignored me completely, content in his new friend’s lap.
Chains looked up, catching my eye again. This time, he held my gaze longer. I felt that look like a physical caress.
“Maybe black cats aren’t such bad luck after all,” he said quietly.
My breath caught. There was something magnetic about him, something that made the air between us feel charged with electricity.
The words made my pulse flutter, and I found myself leaning forward slightly, drawn to him like a moth to flame.
“Maybe not,” I agreed, my voice barely above a whisper.
My heart hammered against my ribs as his gaze dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes.
The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with an energy that made my skin tingle.
Chains shifted on the couch, careful not to disturb Binx, but the movement brought him closer to the edge of the cushions. Closer to me. I caught the scent of leather and motor oil that clung to him, mixed with something distinctly masculine that made my stomach flutter.
“You have a scar,” I said before I could stop myself, gesturing vaguely toward his temple.
His hand instinctively went to the mark, fingers brushing against it briefly. “Bar fight. Long time ago.”
“Did you win?”