13. Zela
Jace already wants to fuck me both as his ‘sister’ and as Vixen; somehow, I can’t imagine it will be better if he knows we're one and the same.
I’m jumpy and still breathing hard, waiting for one of them to walk back through that door.
Fuck, I don’t want to go back to the house with them…
When Reed swings the door open, I almost jump out of my skin, only to be annoyed with myself.
Reed would never hurt me; he’s one of the few people I can say that about with complete certainty.
A smile pulls his lips up, and his eyes shine, telling me he’s proud of me even before he can say it out loud.
Thankfully, I’ve had just enough time to get it together and hopefully not raise suspicion.
“You did good, kid!” He’s across the room in a flash, his stride eating up the distance between us.
Patting my back in an affectionate way since he knows I don’t love hugs, and I stumble forward a step.
I think he forgets just how big he is. Built from sheer muscle, I don’t know what kind of training he has, but it’s enough to keep everyone in line here.
As head of security, he’s more than intimidating if he needs to be.
Thankfully, I’ve never had to be on the receiving end of anything more than his jokes and half-ass flirting, but I’ve seen enough.
“Thanks,” I tell him as I look around the room, still on edge, unsure if Reed would be enough to stop him. Jace is his boss, after all. If nothing else, having him here might give me enough time to run.
Reed launches into what he calls the ‘highlights,’ recapping all the best parts of my fight, sounding like a kid at Christmas, and I feel my cheeks heat from his praise. My mask hides it, I’m sure, but I can’t seem to meet his eyes, regardless.
“So, finally gonna give me that kiss, huh?” He wags his eyebrows at me, making himself look ridiculous, but still, I take a step back when he gets closer.
Reed is a good-looking guy, really good-looking, and honestly, I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t someone I would happily fall all over normally.
But now, here, after the last two days…
He freezes, his brows pinching together as he looks me over, and I know I did a terrible job hiding my discomfort, but he doesn't call me on it. Instead, simply taking a step back, giving me room to breathe.
“You good, kid?” The concern is clear on his face, and I hate to lie to him, but telling him might make everything worse.
I don’t want him to look at me differently, or worse, not care…
No, I shake the thought away; I know he would care. Reed isn’t like them.
“Yeah.” I don’t even believe myself, so I change the subject to something easier. “Next week is going to be a doozy.”
I move around the room, collecting my things and gulping down a whole bottle of water from my bag. No way am I drinking anything from here.
“Widow won’t be easy, but you can take her, Vix.” He sounds so sure, but I’m not. Widow is a hard hitter and, like me, doesn’t just rush. I haven’t lost in a few years now, but if there was someone I was going to, it would be her.
I’m not so much nervous about fighting Widow as I am about what happens after. I haven’t heard anything about the celebration other than it will be something never done before.
Awesome.
“I hope you're right.”
“Hey, Vix, you know if you need something, you can ask me, right? I’m here for you, kid.”
I pause, my textbook in my hand, ready to be stuffed into my bag as I think about what he just said.
Can I ask him? Do I trust him?
Yes, I could, and I do.
So what’s stopping me?
I don’t have the answer to that question, so with a sigh, I shove my book into my bag and zip it up.
“I’m good, Reed. Don’t worry about me.”
It won’t do him any good; besides, I can take care of myself. Ten-year-old me would have loved to have someone to run to, but I know better now.
“Kid, that’s not possible. I still remember when you used to get your ass beat every fight.” He laughs as if it’s a good memory… It’s not, but he isn’t wrong. I used to get fucked up.
Back then, I fought in a ski mask, and they just called me kid.
It took almost two years before I won enough that Reed demanded I either stop or take it seriously.
And Vixen was born.
Even with all the hours Dad worked back then, it was hard to keep what I was doing under the radar. Ozy hated it, seeing me get my ass kicked over and over, but I loved the rush of being in the ring, the high I got even when I lost.
It gave me something I had never had before: power.
I was in control, and I was addicted after just once, even if it was a miserable loss.
I shove his shoulder as I move past him to grab my sweater from the hook on the wall, and of course, he doesn’t so much as sway.
Huge, strong asshole.
“I’m not that kid anymore, Reed. You know that. I’m undefeated now.” I manage to sound more confident than I am, turning around to wink at him when I feel his eyes on me.
“Yeah, you are.” He nods, but I’m not sure what part he’s agreeing to—maybe both?
I roll my eyes before pushing out into the hall, letting the swinging doors fly back behind me. He pauses for a minute before pushing through, too, and easily catching up with me.
Damn his long legs.
His fingers wrap around my arm, pulling me to a stop and swinging me back around so that we're damn near toe-to-toe.
Something about being this close to him is a lot, almost overwhelming.
The Reed I’m used to is always joking and smiling; I don’t even need to look up at him to know this isn’t like that.
I can feel it in the way his fingers grip my arm, his chest rising and falling like he just ran a marathon, a lot like my own.
“Promise me you’ll call if you need help. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”
My heart beats faster with every word he says. I dare to look up at him through my lashes to find him staring down at me with so much intensity that I quickly look away.
“I promised Ozy I’d look out for you.”
Ouch.
It makes sense, though; they were friends after all. That also explains his interest in me. I should have known.
He drops my arm, and I hear him move, but I stand frozen as I try to decide what to do.
It only takes a moment, though; I know I can’t pull him into this. They’re dangerous, and somehow I don’t think they’ll really hurt me, not like they might someone like Reed, someone who isn’t ‘family.’
“Ozy left. You don’t owe him anything.” I don’t mean to sound like a bitch, but I can’t seem to help it when it comes to him. I might be a little salty, even after all this time.
What can I say, when you love someone, and they disappear into the night, never to be heard from again, after you spent every day with them and told them everything, thinking you would be together forever?
It has that kind of effect.
Fuck, this is why I don’t let myself think about him.
I turn away, more than ready to leave, but I only make it a few steps.
This time, I spin around, ready to give him a piece of my mind, only to find his hand outstretched in offering.
I raise a brow at him in question, and he rolls his eyes.
“Just take it, brat.” I huff at the use of the old nickname but still snatch the knife from his hand. I’ve never seen Reed unarmed; his knives and gun sit on his hip the same way my mask sits on my face.
It’s armor, and for whatever reason, he’s handing it to me. It’s not as if he doesn’t have more; he’s always over-prepared, but this still feels like a big deal.
“And promise to call if you need me,” he calls after me but this time doesn’t follow.
“Who says I even have your number?” I call as I push open the door; his laughter is rich and deep behind me, and a smile pulls at my lips as well.
Asshole.