17. Riley
“Get it fucking together, Riley,”I murmur under my breath, staring into my own eyes in the diner’s chipped bathroom mirror. I’m taking too long in here, and I know it, but I need to get my head on straight before I go back out to Dante.
The light catches my nose ring, making the black faux-diamonds that make up the tiny skull glitter for a second. My gaze drops to the tiny piece of jewelry, a reminder of my sister, and I square my shoulders.
I was getting way too comfortable out there, talking to Dante easily as I went to town on the spread of food he ordered as if eating was going out of style. I actually started to let my guard down, telling him shit that probably would’ve been smarter to keep to myself, so I had to fake a pee emergency just to give myself a moment alone to focus the hell up.
I run my hands under the tap and then dry them off, shooting myself one more narrow-eyed look in the mirror before I leave the bathroom.
Be smart, I remind myself. This whole thing is a dangerous fucking game, and if you don’t keep your head on straight and your guard up, you’ll lose the game before you even learn all the rules.
I’m so busy giving myself a mental pep talk that I don’t watch where I’m going, and as I start to make my way back down the hall toward the main part of the diner, I slam into a large male body.
The man I ran into grunts, catching me by the arms as we’re both knocked off balance.
“Sorry, I—” My words break off as I look up and realize who it is.
Rob.
My ex leers down at me, surprise and amusement flashing across his features as he gives me a full once over.
“Hey, Riley. I haven’t seen you around the club lately. Where’ve you been?” He makes a face almost like a pout. “I hope you haven’t been avoiding me.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter. I haven’t been in the mood for his bullshit ever since we broke up, but that’s especially true today. I move to walk around him as I speak, but he steps to the side, blocking my way again.
“Don’t be that way, baby,” he drawls. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s really not.”
He laughs like I’m joking, then reaches for me again. “I went to Club M last night, but you weren’t on stage. I really wanted to see you. I’ve been missing you.”
I bat his hand away, my temper flaring. “Move, Rob. You’re in my way.”
He holds his hands up apologetically but makes no move to step aside. “Sorry, sorry. But I’m glad I ran into you,” he says, then gives a smarmy grin. “Even if you’re the one who actually ran into me.”
He chuckles like he thinks we’re both in on a joke, and I glower at him. Maybe he can see how completely unamused I am, because he goes on quickly. “Okay, okay, but look. I just wanted to apologize for the other night.”
I give him a blank stare, my mind already moving past this conversation. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t be pissy, Riley.” Rob shakes his head, looking remorseful. “I know I fucked up. I hurt you. I never meant for you to see me and Kiki like that.”
I still don’t know what he’s talking about or why the hell he thinks I care, but then it suddenly hits me, and I can’t help but laugh.
That’s right. Kiki’s stage name is Sugar, and Rob was fucking her in the alley behind Club M the other night when I left. Jesus, it feels like a lifetime ago. Before Chloe was taken. So much shit has happened since then, so many things that matter more to me than he ever did, that it might as well have happened to someone else.
If he actually believes I wasted a second of thought on who he was sticking his dick into, he really is delusional. I’ve already forgotten about it and never cared in the first place.
I huff a breath, not even acknowledging his words. “Get out of my way.”
“Hear me out first, baby,” he says cajolingly. He moves toward me as he speaks, angling his body a little to try to back me up against the wall.“I’ve been wanting to get back together ever since I made the mistake of breaking up with you.” Heat flashes in his eyes, and he gives me a look that I’m pretty sure is supposed to be seductive. “You’re a much better fuck than Kiki is. You’re better than all the girls there. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve missed you. I missed your sweet pussy…”
He reaches for me as he speaks, his fingers brushing my collarbone just below the spot where Logan gripped my throat yesterday, and something inside me snaps.
I slap his hand to the side, pushing away from the wall and shoving hard at his chest. I may have to put up with the Reapers manhandling me, and I’ve already resigned myself to the three of them doing whatever they want, but it will be a cold day in hell before I put up with any more of Rob’s shit.
“Get. The fuck. Away from me,” I snap as he stumbles backward, helping him along with another hard shove that has his back hitting the wall on the opposite side of the hallway.
He rubs his chest, looking affronted. “What the hell, Riley? I’m just trying to make things right with you,” he whines.
“Yeah? Well, you failed at that the minute you treated me like your personal whore,” I shoot back, my voice cold. “We’re over. We will always be over. It’s a permanent condition. I’m the one who broke up with you, remember? And I haven’t regretted it for a fucking second.”
He shakes his head. “No, that’s not how it—”
“And do you know why I broke up with you?” I go on, talking right over him as my anger builds. “Because you have a pencil dick, Rob. It’s small. It’s limp. And you don’t know how to use it. I broke up with you because I wasn’t satisfied, and I doubt anyone else you’ve stuck it in has been either. And mostly, I broke up with you because I don’t have time for someone who wastes his time hanging around a strip club pretending to be a big shot, which means I don’t have time for you.”
His face has been getting progressively redder, and now he scowls. “Jesus. You don’t have to be such a—”
My hand curls into a fist, and he snaps his mouth closed before he makes the mistake of finishing that sentence. I don’t know what it is he saw on my face, but I’m genuinely surprised that he’s smart enough not to piss me off even more by saying what I think he was about to.
But he’s not that smart, so I make sure to spell it out for him.
“Fuck off and don’t ever talk to me again,” I say, stepping back as he stares at me with a look of wounded shock on his face. “Not if you want to keep that tiny dick attached to your body.”
With that, I turn on my heel to head back to my table—but my footsteps stutter as my eyes lock with Dante’s. He must have gotten tired of waiting on me, because he’s standing at the end of the hallway, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and something glinting in his green eyes as he watches me.
I can’t quite read his expression… but there’s a tiny upturn at the corners of his mouth, as if he can’t help but be amused by what he just saw. And as I make my way toward him, I could swear I even see something like pride in his face.
“Ready, princess?” he asks once I reach him, without commenting on what just went down with Rob.
“Sure,” I say, reminding myself that it’s stupid to read anything into the way he was looking at me. Just as stupid as it is to feel settled, almost secure and safe, when he rests his large hand against my back as he guides me out of the diner.
There’s nothing safe about Dante. About any of the Reapers.
And I don’t know why a part of me likes that.