Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DIORA
“Dee, we’re going out to eat. Come on,” I hear Roan’s voice yell from outside the locker room. I sigh in relief hearing Roan’s kind voice.
One thing I’m learning quickly with this group is that they don’t complain, they don’t blame, and they don’t ask questions. They don’t seem mad about the additional hour of running we had to do, based on their facial expressions and body language on our way to the showers, but I can’t be sure.
See, if one of them earned me an hour of extra training, I would be close to biting one of their heads off.
I guess they are cooler than me.
My eyes search for Elliot’s. Is he going? I watch as he stands farthest away from me, but I’m not sure why. His cold behavior makes the craving for blood under my nails intensify. At this point, I’d take anyone’s blood, including his.
What the hell is his problem?
I turn to Roan, the friendliest of the group, and nod my head. If Elliot is going to ignore me, then I’m not giving him the pleasure of it irking me.
“Where?” I ask. I do my damnedest not to look at Elliot, but his voice perks my ears as he talks to Roan, not me, of course.
“She can’t go.” Elliot’s voice comes fast as he glares at Roan.
“Why is that?”
“She’s got other plans—”
“That isn’t until later. Let’s go,” I say, interrupting the jackass, who suddenly found his voice. Wrapping my hand around Roan’s huge bicep, we walk to catch up with the other four members of the group. “Are you coming, too, Enyo?”
“Most definitely, Diora.” Enyo laughs as he pats Elliot’s shoulder as he walks past.
Oh, this is gonna be fun.
It doesn’t take much to get Elliot to fall in line. He follows at the back of the group, while Roan and I walk ahead of everyone, since we wouldn’t all fit on the sidewalk toward the restaurant. I do my damndest not to glance at Elliot. Two can play this game.
“What are these plans you have later tonight?” Roan asks, and I lean my head on his arm since I'm nowhere close to reach his shoulder, playing the flirt.
“Ahh, I have a meeting. It’s not related to anything here.
” I shrug as we sit at the high tables of a chicken wings based restaurant.
Black on black, with splashes of orange, colors the restaurant.
High windows and lots of TV screens everywhere.
All sorts of sports play, and I watch as the Dogs fill up the space.
It’s hard to miss this group. Seven tall, strong beasts of men enter a bar. Each of them surely meeting both men’s and women’s desires.
“Why so secretive, Dee?” Tom, the newest recruit besides me, pips, with a bolstering laugh and a contagious smile.
“Aren’t we all?” I ask, sliding my wet curly hair behind my shoulder.
The wet hair touching my skin and soaking my shirt bothers me, but I forgot a hairclip.
A bubbly waitress comes up and takes our orders.
Her pin-straight hair up in a neat bun and wide smile remind me of Juliet before the incident.
Would Juliet be as happy as this girl seems if things had been different? If I had protected her like I should have.
What the hell am I doing here? I should be getting ready to kill Yara Holding, not trying to make Elliot jealous.
“Tell us, Dee, how it’s been going at Society?” Hank, the oldest member and the medic specialist of the group, asks as his beer slides in front of him.
“Ask something more interesting,” Jones, the sharpest shooter ever, says, shoving Hank and turning the spotlight on me.
Juliet would flush prettily under the attention. I think about how it’d be nice to be like Juliet. Like a normal girl. I raise my brows in question, knowing I don’t want to enter these dark waters of questioning.
“Where did that wound come from?” Jones asks. He points to the back of my hand, where Mrs. Jay’s punishment is currently healing. It’ll scar, but it was worth it.
A small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.
“None of your fucking business,” Elliot snaps. He doesn’t look at the group from his spot at the end of the table.
“Ohh, was it Elliot?”
“Wait, he has a matching one. Are you two into some kinky shit?”
“Nah, Enyo has one, too, unless y’all are all together—”
“Shut the fuck up before I make you,” Elliot barks, and it makes the guys laugh, Enyo included.
“Mother doesn’t appreciate side missions is all I’ma say,” Enyo laughs, sipping his drink with raised brows.
“Are your plans later concerning a side mission, Dee?” Tom asks, raising his eyebrows.
“An approved one, yes,” I laugh. I can’t help but to glance at Elliot. He’s already staring at me, or more so, my hand. I purposely move my hand to the right and watch as his eyes follow.
He’s not over that yet?
I roll my eyes as I focus back on the group. That’s worse than him being mad at me. I have a guilty puppy to convince to love me instead of an angry viper.
“Okay, okay, well, let’s talk about that damn tea party—”
“Let’s not. We’re in public, dumbasses,” Enyo snaps.
Elliot remains silent throughout the lunch, and I feel… bad he’s torturing himself.
But I also can’t help but be attracted to the tortured man. That must be my type.
No, actually, I think Elliot is my type. That’s it, no one else.
Elliot gets up to leave, and I follow him with a small, “I’m going to the bathroom,” excuse. I follow him as he walks back to the Headquarter's parking lot.
He must park his own car instead of letting the valet do it.
“Stop following me,” he calls out, but I ignore him and keep a distance of five feet between us. He rolls his shoulders, as if he’s getting pissed, and I smile. Good. Maybe he’ll get a taste of what I’ve been going through.
He slips inside the blacked out car I don’t care to know the model of. I slide into the passenger seat before he has the chance to lock it on me. The leather is cold against the skin of my arms but I ignore it turning to face him. His head snaps toward me with a glare.
“Are you dense, Diora?” His words hit me hard but I intended to hit him just as hard.
“Are you stupid, Elliot?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You think giving me the cold shoulder will keep me away?” I say, leaning over the middle console, toward the now fuming man.
His anger surrounds him like an aura and I can practically feel the heat of it against my skin.
I lean closer anyways, hoping he might burn me.
“You think you can ignore me? That it’d be easy to get rid of me? ”
His stormy gaze settles on me. I wonder if he’ll kick me out of the car and my skin itches for me to ensure that doesn’t happen. His blond hair is drying from his shower, like mine, and it covers his eyes a bit but not enough to miss the storm brewing in them.
“You… I–I.” I lose my words the moment they try to spill out of my mouth.
I snap my lips shut and glare right back at him.
How fucking dare he make me feel like this.
In this small sports car it feels like he’s miles away from me and I can't stand it.
I furrow my brows trying to think of how to approach this when my gaze catches on the lock of his door.
Reaching over him he tenses as I click the lock on his door handle.
The loud click of the lock rings through the car.
My breasts brush his incredible still arm and even the slight touch has my core heating.
My eyes dart to his. Hoping to catch a reaction, something, but I get nothing.
Nothing but the stone wall face he’s been giving me for way too damn long.
Might as well not stop here, lifting completely out of my seat I crawl over the console, probably scuffing something I can’t afford to fix.
I swing my leg over his seat, trapping him under me.
His hands are quick to grip my hips as soon as I crawled over but he’s not trying to remove me.
He could easily pop the lock, open his door and toss me on my ass but he doesn’t.
Instead he holds perfect still. Like a wall. A wall I hope to break.
“You can’t get rid of me, Elliot Jay.” I’m breathless, all that moving and my body burns from the damn obstacle course Mrs. Jay just put us through but I don’t care.
Elliot glares at me still, and I swear I melt a little under his stare. I’ll take a glare. A glare I can work with. Indifference, I can’t.
“What if I want to?” He lies. His light brown eyes burn, and his hands dig into the sides of my hips, holding me firmly in place.
I tilt my head forward as my hands cup the side of his face, his smooth, soft skin pouring warmth into my hands. I lean my face forward, just an inch, and his lips dart up to try to kiss me. But I lean away before his lips touch mine.
“You clearly don’t,” I murmur in the small amount of space between our lips. I lean in closer, his dark chocolate smell fills my nose. “You want to be mine. My handsome boy.”
“Fuck, Little Crane,” he whispers, resting his forehead against mine.
See I knew it. I jerk forward as his knee lifts me, sliding me closer.
Right over his cock, my pussy flutters at the contact and fuck.
I’m feeling more than need— I feel desperation.
Complete and utter desperation. I'm so lost for him. I’m clearly beyond repair.
Not that I want to be fixed. I just want him.
“See you need me,” I whisper and he groans as my breath hits his cheek. I didn’t just mean sexually but if that's what my broken little hitman needed to hear that's what I’d tell him.
Watching him like a predator would prey I try to read body language cues I know I always miss and I decide by the way his eyes darken I can kiss him.