Chapter Two
Do Whatever with My Hand
“You know what I can’t figure out?” I decided to go on the offensive now that Tyr and I were alone in the small bathroom off of his office. Like everything else in Tyr’s life, the bathroom was Spartan, utilitarian and sparkling clean, no doubt because he had some hot little club mama cleaning up after him, but that wasn’t why I decided now was a good time to babble. We were alone in a tiny space, cut off from the rest of the world, and all at once I couldn’t handle just how close he was. “I can’t figure out why you suddenly appeared out of nowhere this morning. What, were you out for a nice, cleansing jog in the hope of burning off a few extra pounds? Or maybe you wanted to try on some fishnets because you have a secret yearning to feel pretty? Why were you over at my place hassling me at nine o’clock in the morning?”
“Swear to Christ, that mouth of yours is going to get you murdered someday.” He dropped the toilet seat down, then turned on the hot water in the sink. “I need to clean the blood off your hands, so do us both a favor and close your eyes. I don’t want you yakking all over me.”
Diligently I squeezed my eyes shut as he unwound the scarf. “There you go again, with your smooth talk and your Prince Charming ways.”
“I try.”
No, he didn’t. Not with me. Never with me. “That still doesn’t answer my question. What were you doing across the street? You scared the daylights out of me.”
“Obviously.” I heard him suck in a small breath between his teeth, and I could feel him turning my hand this way and that, clearly examining my wound, before he tugged it under the flow of hot water. “I think I can glue this cut together, the edges aren’t too ragged. It’s going to leave a scar, though.”
“Just one more to add to my collection.” The words just sort of popped out, while the old scars on my forearms glowed in my mind.
There was a heavy beat of silence. “When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?”
“Um, let me think.” I frowned, oddly shamefaced that I’d taken that jab at him. Maybe it was because he was trying to help me instead of putting me at risk, like he had in the bad old days. “Last year, when I stepped on a nail while installing the shoe racks.”
His movements paused. “I didn’t know about that.”
“Why would you? It’s not like it wound up on the news or anything.”
He was silent for a few brooding seconds before he continued to wash my hands. “I’m going to use some antibacterial soap and sterile pads to make sure everything’s clean, then I’ll glue it back together. Fair warning, it’s going to sting like a sonofabitch. How’s your pain right now?”
“No biggie.” The meaty part below my thumb throbbed to the point where I was half-convinced it would fall off, but I couldn’t let him know that. He’d seen enough of my pain throughout my life already. “You still haven’t answered the question. Why were you over at my place?”
“Tomahawk was on guard duty at the main gate and saw you nearly die in a head-on collision. I came out to see the carnage.”
“Nice.” I’d have to talk to Tomahawk on my way out to make sure he understood my life wasn’t something he needed to gossip about. “Disappointed I’m still alive?”
“More like bewildered about why you were changing some rando girl’s tire. What’s that all about?”
“The rando girl, Olive, was falling apart and needed a hero. I stepped up.”
“More like you stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong.”
The disapproval in his tone made me feel like he saw me as nothing more than an irritating five-year-old who didn’t understand boundaries. “I was doing just fine until you showed up.”
“You’ve always stuck your nose in where it doesn’t belong,” he went on, clearly ignoring the pivotal role he’d played in my mishap. “When Loki started up with that fight club, you ratted him out to me. What did that get you?”
“It got you fighting in that same stupid fight club, because you both clearly inherited the same loose screw.”
“It got Loki so pissed off he didn’t talk to you for six months. And remember when Hel told you she was having problems with her art teacher when you guys were in high school, so you decided to secretly record the guy everywhere he went because you believed he was jealous of her talent? Then you were caught hiding in the faculty bathroom, and what did that get you?”
“A week’s suspension, but I still say I was right. Hel’s amazing, and that talentless hack was trying to tear her down out of spite.”
“The point is, you dive into other people’s problems like you have to fix everything all by yourself, instead of stepping back and letting them solve their own damn problems.”
“You make me sound like a nosy busybody.”
“You are a nosy busybody.”
“I hate talking to you,” I muttered, opening my eyes to glare up at the ceiling. “I even hate the sound of your voice. Every time you open your mouth I want to throat-punch you, because I know you’re going to criticize me—how I live my life, what I do for a living, who my friends are, and everything else in between. So do me a favor and don’t talk to me anymore, all right? Just do whatever you want with my hand, and don’t talk.”
There was a beat of volatile silence. “Just do whatever I want with your hand? Did those words really come out of your mouth just now?”
The way he said it made my face burn, and I knew I had to be blushing. Ugh . “I said a lot more than that. Weren’t you listening?”
“I listened, and what I heard would make any man stand up and take notice, if you get my drift. A knockout woman like you needs to be more careful with her words when she’s around big, bad men like me.”
I didn’t move, not because of the vague threat sliding through his tone, but because saying anything remotely sexual was something Tyr never did. Not to me, anyway. And knockout? Not since we were little had Tyr even hinted that he thought I was pretty, much less a knockout . We didn’t have that kind of relationship. This was brand-new territory, and I had no idea how we’d gotten here or what sort of dangers were lurking just beneath the surface.
“I’m careful enough.” I almost winced at the jarring loudness of my voice. Like an idiot I’d let the silence roll for too long, and now everything was stupid and awkward. “You’re the only man who has any complaints. Then again, that’s pretty much all I expect out of you.”
“When it comes to me, you’d be wise to expect the unexpected. Sit.” He semi-pushed me onto the lowered toilet seat, and I once again closed my eyes before I managed to accidentally catch sight of the throbbing, painful mess that was my injured hand. “So I’m the only man, huh? I guess that means all the other men in your life are fine with what you tell them to do with your hands.”
I listened to him dig around in the first-aid kit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Misty mentioned you’re dating someone new.”
Thanks a lot, Misty . “Oh. That.”
“Yeah, that. Tell me about it.”
“Nothing to tell. We’re not dating as in dating . We went on a date last Friday. As in, one singular date. I don’t know if there’s going to be another, or if anything’s going to come of it.”
“Who is he?”
Better for me to tell him than to have Misty—my sweet, romantic friend who wanted everyone to be in love like she was with her man Lasso—mess everything up. “He’s the owner and sole tattooist of that little tattoo parlor that moved in next door to Vixen’s Den. He came over and introduced himself, and before I knew it he asked me out.”
Tyr sprayed something on my hand, and the screaming pain lessened as if by magic. “What’s his name?”
“Draco, but whatever you do, don’t call him Malfoy. I did that when we first met as a joke.” I grimaced. “It didn’t go well.”
“Sounds like the asshole needs to find himself a sense of humor.”
That’s what I’d thought, too. “I’m sure he’s heard the joke a thousand times before, so he’s probably sick of it.” I flinched when he wiped something over the open wound. “Sorry.”
He made a dismissive sound. “How serious did it get during your date with Malfoy ?”
Good grief, I had to make sure he never crossed paths with Draco. “That’s none of your business, but generally speaking I’m not an easy-lay. And the name is Draco. Say it with me—Dray-Co.”
“Does Malfoy know you don’t like needles? Seems like this is something a tattooist should know about you.”
Like that, my world went dark. “The subject never came up.”
“Yeah? You mean Malfoy hasn’t once mentioned anything about putting his needle to all that flawless pale skin of yours? I’ll bet he has,” he went on when I didn’t say anything. “I’ll bet that dumbass can’t stop from running his stupid mouth about all that magnificent porcelain flesh he thinks he has a right to fuck up with his mark. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Um.” Oh, wow. Tyr thought my skin was magnificent. Flawless. But since he was my enemy, I had no idea what to do with that. “You… I…”
“Yeah? Say whatever’s on your mind, Snap. Let me in.”
“How much longer is this going to take?” I asked instead, because a sweet Tyr was a Tyr I couldn’t freaking handle. Instead I focused on how bang-on target his statement was. Draco had talked virtually nonstop about seeing me as a “pristine canvas” from the moment we met, and though we’d only been on one date, his spiel was already getting kind of old. With a sigh I glanced down at my hand to see what progress had been made, and instantly regretted it.
Oh… ick .
An ugly C-shaped gash framing the meaty part of my hand below my thumb gaped like a no-lipped mouth, with blood still trickling from its ragged edges. I clamped my good hand over my mouth, partly because I didn’t want to make another sound that signified weakness and pain, partly because I feared I was about to throw up.
“Idiot. I told you not to look.” My vision was suddenly filled with Tyr, his eyes fierce as he framed my face in his hands so I had no choice but to look at him. “Listen to me, baby girl. You’re okay. You’re okay, because I’m going to make it okay, understand? You’re fine, Snap. You’re doing just fine.”
The rock-solid reality around me jolted, and for one harrowing and utterly disorienting moment I was in another place, another time. For a horrifying second all I could see was my mother’s prone form sprawled on my narrow twin bed, foam drying on her blue lips, a needle still stuck in her arm and a note in her hand. Tyr’s face had suddenly filled my vision then too, and he told me over and over again that I was going to be okay, because he was going to make it okay. He couldn’t, though, because Audrey was already dead, killed by the poison Hades had brought into her life so he could control her completely.
“Thank you, Tyr.” The words came out from behind my hand, which I then forced to my lap when I realized how muffled I sounded. Reality snapped back into place, and I came back to the present with a shudder. “I never said that to you when… we found Audrey. At least I don’t think I did. So thank you. And I told you, I’m fine.”
“Damn right you are.” He stayed crouched before me a few more seconds—no doubt to see if I was going to faint—before he straightened to his full height. “I’ve already sprayed your cut with some numbing stuff, but I’m not going to lie. When I glue the edges back together, it’s going to sting like a sonofabitch.”
“Pain doesn’t bother me.” Needles did. Blood did. Pain was no big deal, because I’d learned the hard way there was an eventual end to it. “Just do what you have to do already.”
“I want to hear more about Malfoy.” As Tyr spoke, he dipped once more into the first-aid kit. “What’s he look like?”
“Are you trying to distract me?”
“Is Malfoy distracting to you?”
Yep. He was totally trying to distract me. “He’s good-looking from a regular-guy-from-the-block kind of way.” I kept my hand relaxed as he reached for it, mentally girding myself for what was to come. “Shaved head, probably to deal with a thinning or lost hairline, dark eyes, goatee, gauges in both ears, and lots and lots of tats that seem to be dragon-related. Maybe he’s a closet D and D fan.” The glue went on, and boy howdy, he hadn’t been kidding. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he just poured acid into my wound. Grimly I fought to keep my voice light. “He could probably do with a Pilates class every once in a while, but then again so could I. I’d like to have a better butt, and lady abs are so hot in my opinion.”
“Your opinion sucks. I like my women soft and delicate and feeling like a damn woman, not like Zee or Romeo.”
Despite the pain I laughed, because the two Gravediggers he’d mentioned were so ripped they could have doubled as male swimwear models. “Who knows? Maybe that could be my next date with Draco—couples Pilates.”
“Oh yeah, definitely make that suggestion to him, because that’s what every man wants to hear from you—you’re too soft and doughy for me, let’s work out.” He unwrapped several butterfly bandages and placed them, then grabbed for a roll of sterile gauze. “What a date to remember.”
“Okay, smartass, so what kind of date do you normally go on?” Not that I cared.
“I don’t go on dates.”
“You don’t? Did you take some weird vow of celibacy that I don’t know about?”
He snorted. “I don’t go on dates, Snap, because I don’t have to.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I’m the leader of the fucking Gravediggers,” he said as if the answer was obvious. As he spoke, he began wrapping up my hand like a mummy, his eyes on his work. “If I feel like fucking, I go into the Clubhouse to see if there’s any easy-fuck club girl around. If she makes my dick twitch I grab her, find a private corner and bang her like my own personal drum. Who needs to go through all that phony bullshit of going out to an expensive restaurant, making small talk and pretending you’re there because you want to get to know a bitch, when all you really want is to get in her pants? It's not worth it.”
“It’s not worth it.” I had to repeat the phrase to myself in order to fully grasp the enormity of his arrogance. When I did, I was genuinely sorry I’d wasted my breath. Thank goodness I was smart enough to hate this man and all his toxic bullshit. “It’s a good thing I’m the only one around to hear you say that.”
He looked up from cutting the gauze. “Why’s that?”
“When you say it’s not worth it , what you’re actually saying is she’s not worth it . She’s just a void to stick your dick into, because you’re bored or horny or stressed out. There’s no emotion behind it, no basic human-to-human connection. It’s just… fucking.”
“So what’s wrong with that?” he wanted to know, and for just a second I could have sworn this devil of a man was deliberately goading me. “Jealous?”
I stared at him, baffled. “Of living an empty life devoid of any emotional meaning? No one would be jealous of that, Tyr, trust me on this.”
For a second his mouth tightened, as if my response irritated him. “Look, it’s not that deep, all right? The way I look at it, fucking has nothing to do with emotions or human-to-human connections. It’s a basic drive, like eating or sleeping. Women went and complicated the shit out of it by attaching emotions to it, but ask any man and he’ll tell you the same thing. If he’s jumping through the hoops of dating and getting to know a woman, all he really wants to do is pump her and dump her.”
Oh God, I hated this guy. “Not every man is a dick like you, Tyr. I mean, I know you have no soul and your heart is nothing but a cold black stone, and maybe you have a right to be that way. We’re all products of our environment to a certain extent, and God knows both your old man and your uncle H were cut from the same monstrous cloth, so maybe it’s no surprise you’ve turned into a monster yourself—”
“Don’t you compare me to them.” The harshness in his voice cut through my words like a cleaver, and for a moment his expression was downright murderous. “Don’t you ever fucking do that, Ginger. Goddamn it, when are you going to get it through your head that I’m not like them?”
“The point I’m trying to make,” I went on relentlessly, because when a god scowled at you, the best thing to do was scowl back twice as hard so they wouldn’t know how freaked you were, “is that not every man looks at women the way you do. Sure, you’re king of the Gravediggers, and you have all the meaningless, rando pussy you could ever want. Good for you. But most men in the real world don’t think it’s phony bullshit to go out on dates so they can get to know a woman better.”
“Jesus.” The impatience in his tone cut like a knife, ticking me off all the more. With controlled violence he tore some medical tape off a roll and secured it to the dressing wrapped around my hand. “You think Malfoy is genuinely into all that hearts-and-flowers shit, and not about banging you?”
“For the last time his name is Draco, and I guarantee you that if he ever talked about faking his way through the process of dating me just so he could, as you put it, pump me and dump me, I’d have his balls in my freezer faster than he could say eunuch .”
“Then you’d best make room in your freezer, because when that guy looks at you, you can bet all he sees is some pussy he can buy with a few nice meals and the price of a movie.”
The words seemed to echo in the small room, taunting me, cutting me with their vicious, poisoned edges. Each word hurt more than the wound on my hand, bleeding me out on the inside until dots swam before my eyes. I realized I was holding my breath in the hope of containing the hurt, so I let it out on a dangerous hiss, and I was on my feet without any memory of how I got there.
“ Some pussy he can buy ?” I repeated with a rush of fury so immense it made my head swim. “Jesus, I knew you didn’t think much of me—you’ve made that clear time and again throughout our lives. But now you find it unimaginable that every other man on the planet would have any interest in me other than being a pump-and-dump skank who can be bought with a fucking dinner and a movie?”
“Whoa, I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my damn mouth.”
“That’s exactly what you said.”
“No—”
“You said a woman’s not worth getting to know through dating. Then you said that when a man you don’t even fucking know looks at me, all he sees is pussy he can buy. Is it because of Audrey?” I asked suddenly, so angry my hands balled into fists. It hurt my injured hand, but that only made me ball it up tighter. I wanted the pain. Needed it. It distracted me from the outright agony in my chest as at last, at last , Tyr revealed how deeply he loathed me. “You know what my mother was. She was a fucking smack whore your uncle H created, so you assume I’m like that too, right? Like mother like daughter?”
“Shut up,” he growled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“That’s exactly what you said.” God, this hurt. I knew he hated me for making him kill for the first time, and for being a drag on his life thanks to Hades constantly using me against him. I knew that. But to know he had so little respect for me that he assumed all men saw me as a nameless fuck-doll that could be bought was a stab in the heart I didn’t see coming. “Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Grab-A-Random-Bitch-to-Fuck, not every man is as dead on the inside as you. Some men still have souls. Some men still have common decency. Some men even give a damn about getting to know the whole woman—like finding out what her favorite foods are, what makes her laugh or cry, what she likes to do in her downtime, and you know what? She wants to do the same with him. Not everyone is as fucked up as you are.”
“I said shut up .”
Without warning, he grabbed me by the shoulders, yanked me to him and stopped my mouth with his.
What.
Just… what.
This day couldn’t get any crazier. It started with me almost killing someone, then almost having a head-on collision, then slicing my hand open, and now this.
Tyr’s kiss was undoubtedly the one thing that would finally do me in.
The rough abrasion of his super-short beard held enough friction against my skin to melt my brain. The searing heat of his lips shocked me into stillness, like he was living lava encapsulated in a thin layer of human flesh. He was hot enough to burn away my working theory that he was made of ice, with an ice-cold stone as his heart. I hated knowing how hot—literally hot —he was. Now all I could do was wonder what it would feel like to be burned alive by him.
Before I could decide what to do—push him away, slap him, or fling my arms around his neck and never let go—he broke contact to glare pure death at me.
“Don’t push me, Gingersnap.” He spoke just above a whisper, and the sound was so menacing I couldn’t stifle a shiver. “You won’t like how I push back.”
With that, he turned and left the bathroom, then his office, leaving me standing there like a statue while wondering if I’d just been kissed, or punished, or both.
I had a feeling I was going to find out.