44. Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter forty-four
T he smell of sizzling bacon fills my nostrils as I flip the pancakes on the stove. Brick and Angel are parked on the barstools behind me, and Angel has had an extra coffee and is chattering away like a fucking magpie. Brick is glued to his computer, half-listening to Angel while tapping at his keyboard.
"What are you doing, Brick?" Angel asks. Her voice is like a melody, even this early in the damn morning.
"Reading about polycules," he replies, not even looking up from his laptop screen. Fucking weirdo's always got his nose buried in some new research obsession.
I glance over my shoulder, eyebrow raised. "What the hell is a polycule?"
Brick's face lights up like he's just discovered plutonium. "It stands for polyamorous molecule!" He's grinning from ear to ear. Jesus, he looks deranged when he's this excited. Of course he would find the most ridiculous-sounding term in the English dictionary and apply it to us.
I shake my head and turn back to the sizzling pans. Fucking polycules. Just another one of Brick's harebrained schemes to organize our twisted little family unit. That psycho probably already has the tattoo sketches done for each of us. Like one of those stickers people get for their cars where it shows the parents and each of the children. Sometimes the dog. Except in our case it'd be four tattooed rectangles and one hot female with bright purple hair and nipple piercings.
The pancakes are a perfect golden brown. I slide them onto a platter just as the coffee maker beeps. The rich aroma mingles with the bacon .
Brick is still rambling about relationship diagrams or some shit. I tune him out and focus on the food. This is my love language, and I think everyone in the house knows that.
I plate the pancakes, eggs, and bacon, then set them down on the counter with a satisfying thunk. Brick and Angel dig in eagerly, Brick of course opting out of the bacon and the eggs. Nothing more satisfying than watching people enjoy my cooking, even if they're vegan.
Except maybe listening to the screams coming from Brick's basement. But that's a different kind of satisfaction.
Brick shovels a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, talking around the food in his usual charming way.
"But you know what this means?" He's practically vibrating with excitement. "We get to make one of those relationship map things, with all the lines connecting us!"
I roll my eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't detach. "Yeah, I don't think so. The only lines I want connecting us are handcuffs and whips."
Angel giggles at that, the sound light and musical. God, I love this woman. She appreciates my special brand of humor.
Brick is undeterred, already sketching something on a napkin. "It'll be so cool, though! I can draw Angel's nipple rings and everything."
Of course. Any excuse for him to draw Angel's pierced nipples. Called it. The things that turn this guy on never cease to disturb me… I mean, her nipple piercings turn me on as well, but I don't feel the need to draw them. Although, maybe if I arrange the pancakes just so…
"Eat your breakfast," I growl. "No relationship diagrams at the table. We'll make sure the nipple piercings are still there later."
Brick pouts, but shovels another bite of pancakes into his mouth. At least I can distract him with food.
We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. But I can see the wheels turning in Brick's twisted brain. No doubt he's imagining all kinds of deranged illustrations for his imaginary polycule .
Some things never change. Brick and his freaky obsessions. Me cooking breakfast. Angel lighting up the room with her smile.
I guess we make it work, in our own dysfunctional way. Just another day with my polycute little family. UGH. Gross. I can't believe I even thought that.
I glance over at Angel as we eat, taking in her delicate features. Her eyes shine in the morning light, and her full lips curl into a soft smile when she catches me looking.
There are words I want to say, but I couldn't possibly. How having her here makes everything better…. my cooking, this house, my whole damn life. How she's the sunshine that makes the rain and the murky clouds go away.
I think she knows, without me needing to speak the words. At least, I hope she does. I try to show her through my actions whenever I can.
"You know what, Slade?" Brick booms. "You've always been a good cook, but you were a miserable bastard before Angel came along." He shakes his head and grimaces, as if recalling me at my most curmudgeonly. "But now? Waking up next to Angel, seeing that beautiful face across the table from you? It's changed everything. You're a whole new man."
I sigh, my cheeks reddening. "Yep, you're it for me, baby," I glance at Angel and she meets my gaze with a smile. "The only one I'll ever need."
Weight lifts from my shoulders the moment the words come out. As if by admitting the truth I've released some of the pressure I've been holding in for goodness knows how long. It's not the emotions behind the words that scare me. It's saying them out loud… as if by revealing my true feelings I'm going to be judged, or the universe is going to say 'haha! Got you!', and everything I've wished for is going to be ripped away.
Brick makes a retching sound. "Oh my god, you two are disgusting. Please get a room before I vomit up this delicious breakfast."
I flip him off, but can't keep a grin from spreading across my face. "Shut it, pretty boy. I'm trying to have a moment here…" I pause and narrow my eyes at him. "Which you very obviously orchestrated."
Angel laughs, her nose scrunching up adorably as her eyes meet mine. "It's okay, Slade. I feel the same way about you. About all of you. I finally found where I belong." She pauses, reaching over the counter to squeeze my forearm. "And I know words like that don't come easily to you. I know you mean them very much."
Brick pretends to retch again, but I can tell he's pleased. He got me to verbally demonstrate my feelings to the woman we both love.
We've got our issues, but together we make one hell of a team. A family. Or I guess you could call us a polycule, according to Brick's relationship vocabulary lesson.
I shake my head, chuckling to myself. However we label it, Angel's right. This right here is home.
"Alright, enough with the feelings circle, Slade," Brick says, basically accusing me of starting the sappiness. "We've got business to discuss."
The urge to dive across the counter and throttle him is real, but I take a few deep breaths instead, just the way Angel taught me, and the urge diffuses.
Angel nods, her playful demeanor shifting to something harder and more calculating. My fierce little Valkyrie, always ready for a fight.
I reach across the counter to take Angel's hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She smiles, softening for a moment, then meets my eyes.
Brick chuckles darkly. "I've got some new toys I've been wanting to try out. There's another sleazeball fucking with Roman's girls at the club. This seems like the perfect opportunity for a test run."
Only Brick would see an impending torture session as a chance to play with new gadgets. But I know once he gets going, the Snakes will be begging for mercy.
Angel grins, a wicked glint in her eyes. "I'll make sure to pack my favorite knives. It's been a while since I got my hands dirty."
A flare of desire courses through me at hearing the anticipation in her voice. My fierce little warrior. So beautiful on the outside, and so very depraved on the inside.
"Okay, I know we can go and find trouble if we want to. But I really think we should stick to the plan and focus on Tane."
"You 're right, Slade," says Angel. "We can practice with the new tools later. At least, the new tools not intended for our operation."
Brick claps his hands together. "It's settled then. " His smile widens, edging toward unhinged. "This is going to be fun."
I take a long sip of coffee, savoring the calm before the storm.
We've got a big few days ahead of us, but I know one thing's for certain—Tane and his men will not be fucking with our business again.
Not after we're through with them.