Chapter 27 #2
My heart stops, and a sheer panic tears through me.
“Kids? Whoa. Why would you try to scare me like that? They’re small and sticky.
And what if they get into my blades and touch them all with their little grubby fingers?
” My eyes widen in horror. “Oh, my god. What if they actually like my blades and want to share them? I can’t share my blades, Raiden.
I won’t. You can’t make me. That’s a hard pass right there. ”
He laughs. “Okay. Let’s put kids firmly in the not ready yet category.”
I let out a breath, unsure why the idea of procreating has me working up a sweat, but as we continue toward my apartment, I can’t help but wonder what a little boy with Raiden’s gold-speckled eyes would look like.
Adorable, obviously. But would he drive me crazy the way his dad does?
Or would he be more like me? A magnet for trouble?
Shit. Why do I suddenly want that? I mean, it couldn’t be that terrible, right? After all, people always go back for more, and it’s not as though I couldn’t buy baby Raiden his own set of black-market blades.
“What?” Raiden questions, peering at me through a curious stare, making me realize that I’m striding down the corridor with a ridiculous grin on my face, but I quickly shake it off, knowing this is definitely a topic for later. Much, much, later.
“Nothing,” I say as we finally reach my apartment, only to have to backtrack and go through Raiden’s apartment, out through the bedroom windows, and break our asses in, seeing as though my keys were in the car that burned to a crisp.
We stride into my apartment and pause, immediately looking around to double-check that my home hasn’t been compromised, and after being sure that nobody has been here, I make my way straight to the bathroom, stripping out of my clothes on the way, all while feeling Raiden’s eyes on my ass.
Pausing in the bathroom doorway, I glance back over my shoulder and grin. “You coming?”
Raiden growls, and despite knowing how important it is to get out of here as quickly as possible, he can’t resist following me in.
Thirty minutes later, I stand in nothing but a towel, searching through my clothes for something to wear while shivering like a fucking idiot because neither of us was smart enough to turn the water off once it started to run cold. We were far too caught up in what we were doing.
Picking out the best I’m about to kick ass outfit, I quickly get dressed while making sure to pull on one hell of a good pair of spanks.
After all, having been without underwear for the past few hours while traveling over state lines in the world’s smallest helicopter, I suddenly have the overwhelming urge to never go without again.
Raiden takes off to his apartment to find something to wear, and I can guarantee that he won’t put nearly half the thought into his outfit that I just put into mine.
It’ll likely be a blind reach into his closet, and he’ll wear whatever he picks up first. Though it’s not as though he has many options.
It’s all black tactical pants and black shirts that are generally too small, but something tells me he likes the way his muscles bulge out of the fabric.
Men!
Not having the time to do my hair, I put it up in a claw clip before striding out to the living room and looking over the things that are most important to take with me—Spikezilla and Needles, and their backup homes, of course.
I take them over to my entryway table, and as I turn back to look at the home I’ve lived in for the past few years, a heavy sadness comes over me, realizing this will likely be the last time I’ll step foot in this home.
It’s bittersweet, because on the other hand, I’ll now be starting a life with Raiden, and that excites me more than I could ever know.
With my two babies ready to start anew in the South of France, I go to scoop them up when I remember that massive purple giftbox that Raiden had given me, and despite the two of us being more than capable of getting the job done without the added advantage, I can’t bring myself to leave them behind.
Hell, anything that holds any kind of sentimental attachment to Raiden isn’t something I’m willing to part with.
Hurrying toward my bedroom, I take a sharp turn to the left and barrel straight toward my closet doors, flinging them open to find the giant purple giftbox staring back at me.
My fingers close around the sides of the box, the cardboard rough against my palms as I yank it free and turn back toward the hallway, having to walk sideways to get back out through the bedroom door.
I laugh to myself. I can only imagine what he’s going to say when he sees me coming out with this box, but there’s no changing my mind now.
Putting one foot in front of the other, I take the box back out to the kitchen counter to where it lived for the first few weeks after its arrival, and just as I go to release it, my front door explodes inward.
The sound is deafening.
Wood splinters outward like shrapnel as the doorframe tears apart, and I yelp in surprise as the violent crash echoes through the apartment.
Heavy boots thunder across my living room floor as three men pour inside, black tactical gear blending with the shadows, suppressed rifles already sweeping the room.
“Fuck.”