Chapter 26 #4
Rogue smirks. “He hasn't been with as many women as you probably think he has, and there's a reason for that. There's also a reason they've all been blondes.” He pointedly glances at my hair, and my stomach twists.
He puts a hand to his chest. “Take it from me, a self-appointed connoisseur of conducting pussy drive-bys.” I roll my eyes so deeply, they almost get lost in my head.
“I've never selected women based on a shared feature. That type of need goes far beyond just wanting to get your dick wet. No matter his reasoning, that man has given you more dedication than the fucking Olympics. Which is exactly why Coach eats his pain for breakfast at practice, because he knows even when Dread is in the water, his mind is always on you.”
Rolling my lips, I stare off into the distance while I try to process that. At this moment, it’s impossible to fully know what to think, though I feel plenty, especially from the coke-addicted butterflies in my stomach and my racing heart.
All I know is whatever Dread feels for me, it will never be love.
He proved that when he used me to lure out my father without a second thought.
Maybe he’s obsessed, and maybe he loves fucking me, but I refuse to live the rest of my life being whittled down to an instrument for his own amusement.
If I’m the little violin, then he’s nothing more than a man with a natural talent for plucking my strings. But he’s no prodigy willing to give up his life to devote himself to me, and I deserve more than to collect dust until he gets the urge to stroke me again.
Blowing out a weary breath, I return my attention to Rogue.
“Fine, I’ll keep Sable’s instruments away from your balls.
” I hold up a pointer finger, though it doesn’t deter his relieved smile.
“But. I cannot, nor will I, help you if you deliberately piss her off or do some shit that calls for her retaliation. As long as you’re a good boy, I’ll make sure she stays a good girl. ”
The amused twinkle in Rogue’s eyes returns with a vengeance. Just as I wonder if I’m making a mistake, he drops to his knees on the cement sidewalk and holds his hands together in a prayer position.
“Reverie Adams, I humbly ask for your forgiveness for all the fuckery I’ve bestowed upon your life. I shall never deliberately upset a hair on your head again for as long as Dread allows me to live.”
I loathe how hard I have to fight back a smile. “You’re doing all this because you’re that scared of Sable? More than Dread?”
His face drops into an exasperated look. “And because I don’t think you’re entirely undeserving of an apology.” He pauses for a beat. “But also, yes, she’s fucking terrifying, but if you ever tell her I said so, I’ll deny it.” Another beat passes. “And then run.”
I give up the fight and let a small grin free. “You’re forgiven,” I mutter, waving my hand. “Now get off the ground before I’m tempted to record and blackmail you.”
With a chuckle, he gets to his feet. “Can't say I wouldn't be entirely undeserving.”
He towers above me, only an inch shy of Dread’s height. He’s as packed with muscle, but his demeanor is significantly less intimidating when his goofy expression is a permanent fixture on his face.
“Lead the way, my knight in shining armor,” he beckons loudly like an arrogant superhero, dramatically waving his hand out before him. “We have a dragon to tame.”
I sigh.
I have so many regrets already.
“Sable, for the eighteenth time, put the butter knife down,” I lecture dryly.
We met for lunch at Big Papa’s Lounge, a mom-and-pop diner with the best food in a hundred-mile radius. Thankfully, only locals know about this tucked-away diamond in the rough, and the owners are more than happy with that.
They know they could possibly become well-known, potentially famous, but neither of them want to deal with it. The locals keep them comfortable, and they prefer their simpler lifestyle.
However, it was definitely a mistake bringing Rogue here—not that I had much of a choice, but I could’ve rescheduled with Sable and spared her the very real possibility of bursting a blood vessel.
Neither has revealed anything about that night yet, but I feel slightly assured the only one who’s showing any semblance of fear is Rogue. Sable, on the other hand, might as well be spitting fire.
“I just want him to sit on it, that’s all,” she responds casually, refusing to remove her glare from the man sitting across from her. Her fist rests on the table, gripping a knife pointed straight upward, just waiting for Rogue’s ass.
Rogue arches his pierced brow and leans farther back in his chair, the rickety wood groaning beneath his weight. His stare glimmers with amusement. Seconds before he opens his mouth, I sense exactly what’s about to come out of it.
“I do recall you doing an incredible job when I made a similar reque—”
She points the knife at his face, and snaps, “I dare you to finish that sentence. Te voy a fucking matar.”
Welp, that’s all I needed to hear.
They definitely fucked, that much is abundantly clear now.
Sighing, I park my elbow on the table and rest my chin heavily on my palm, my eyes bouncing back and forth between the two.
Rogue holds up both palms in surrender, flattening his lips into a tight line. Sable snaps her head toward me, almost as if she forgot I was here, her fiery stare fading into panic.
“Perdóname, por favor,” she whispers.
I should be angry with her for fucking one of my bullies.
I probably would be, had he not apologized earlier.
But deep down, I already knew that’s what happened, and while I’m not exactly pleased, I’m just relieved it was consensual.
If I’m really being honest, I have no room to talk, considering I can’t seem to stop fucking one of them, too.
In her defense, even if Rogue wasn’t beautiful, he’s incredibly charming and enigmatic. I can see exactly why Sable couldn’t resist him, and I know that’s at least one reason she’s so pissed.
She’s always in control, always so unshakeable.
She moves with intention. Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her do anything careless or thoughtless in the four years I've known her. She’s a foundation that doesn’t crack beneath pressure.
Yet she did for Rogue, and I’d bet that gets beneath her skin more than anything.
Truthfully, her situation is more relatable than infuriating.
I arch a brow, and say dryly, “And here I thought we were besties. You didn’t tell me his dick size.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sable’s face turn from light brown to fire engine red in a matter of point-two seconds before, but evidently, there’s a first time for everything.
A wolfish grin spreads across Rogue’s face. “Probably because she had a hard time taki—”
The speed with which her head whips to him is concerning, solar flares snapping from her irises and lashing at Rogue.
“Shut the fuck up before I paralyze you and bury you alive,” she threatens.
He bites back his smile in response, smart enough to at least try to suppress his inflated ego. I have a feeling he only listens for now because he's so terrified of her.
She’s turning back to me, accusation in her narrowed stare. “And don’t get me started on not sharing details.”
“Ope,” I mutter quietly, dropping my attention to my half-eaten cheesy hash browns.
I texted her a very brief confession that I may have accidentally fallen and choked on Dread’s dick recently, only for shit to blow up when Lionel called, resulting in me ending up naked in the retort.
She flipped her shit, of course, but we haven’t had the chance to get into the details yet.
I sure as fuck haven’t been making time for it.
At least I told her Dread’s dick size. Or at least my best guess.
Reluctantly, Sable drops the butter knife and settles back into her chair, her sharp stare flicking between the two of us. Somehow, Rogue and I became the scolded children in this scenario. It’s one of Sable’s many gifts.
“Anyways,” she sniffs, tucking her curls behind her ear as if to put herself back together.
Sensing she’s about to change the subject, Rogue leans forward with pinched brows, a concerned look passing over his face.
“Waitwaitwait, you’re not gonna tell her my dick size? This is my first time getting to witness this conversation, and you’re going to deprive me of it?”
Oh, God. She might actually commit murder.
Sable’s face drops into a terrifyingly blank expression, though it only seems to further excite Rogue—the fucking masochist.
Can’t say I’ve seen someone so turned on and terrified by someone at the same time.
When she glances at me, I arch a brow, my expectation clear. I think it’s pretty fair payback for fucking him in the first place—before Rogue and I became civil.
Her mouth parts as her stare darts between us, horror flashing across her eyes.
Her cheeks deepen into a brighter red as she works to swallow. “I am not answering that,” she says sternly.
“Yes, you are,” I say, keeping my tone casual.
Never thought I’d be demanding to know Rogue’s dick size, but I’m pretty sure she broke girl code, so her embarrassment is the price to pay. Dread’s probably going to be pissed when Rogue inevitably tells him, but that’s only another reason to ask.
I’m not sure what she sees in my expression, but she deflates after desperately trying to hold out a few more beats. I think this is the first time I’ve seen Sable look even remotely vulnerable and nervous.
“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Nine?”
Rogue scoffs, slightly offended, before correcting, “Nine and three-quarters.”
She glowers at him. “You think any woman gives a fuck about three-quarters?”
The smile that slides across his face is evil, and I know exactly what he’s going to say before it’s out of his mouth. “She should, considering it’s three-quarters you couldn’t swall—”
She goes to launch the butter knife at him, but I already prepared for that reaction and quickly snatch her wrist before she can lift her arm.