J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8 - J. R. Ward [357]
The shit he was looking at was like every other club in town.
He pushed the plans away and checked his watch. “I gotta go.”
Xhex crossed her arms and stood in front of the office’s door.
“And no, you’re not,” he said.
“I want to come.”
“Am I having a nasty flashback? Because didn’t we just do this the night before last? As well as a hundred other times? The answer is and always will be no.”
“Why?” she snapped. “I’ve never understood why. You let Trez go.”
“Trez is different.” Rehv pulled on his sable coat and opened the drawer of the desk. The new pair of Glock forties he’d just bought fit perfectly into the holster he’d put on with his Bottega Veneta suit.
“I know what you do. With her.”
Rehv froze. Then continued slipping the guns into their sleeves. “Of course you do. I meet with her. Give her the money. Leave.”
“That’s not all you do.”
He flashed his fangs at her. “Yes. It is.”
“No, it isn’t. Is that what you don’t want me to see?”
Rehv bit down on his molars and glared at her from across the office. “There is nothing to see. Period.”
Xhex didn’t back down often, but she had the good sense not to push him any further. Even though her anger simmered in her eyes, she said, “Changes in schedule are not good. She tell you why?”
“No.” He headed for the door. “But this is just going to be business as usual.”
“It’s never business as usual. You’ve just forgotten that.”
He thought of the years of this dirty shit and the fact that the future held only more of the same. “You’re so wrong about the forgetting part. Trust me.”
“Tell me something. If she tried to hurt you, would you shoot to kill?”
“You did not just ask me that.”
The topic of conversation alone was enough to make him want to peel his skin off and send the shit to a dry cleaner. The idea that Xhex was calling him out on something he didn’t want to look too closely at was beyond the pale.
The truth was, a part of him loved what he did once a month, too. And that reality was totally unbearable when he was in the world he mostly inhabited, the world the dopamine allowed him to live in, the world that was relatively normal and healthy.
That little slice of ugliness in his heart was something he sure as fuck wasn’t sharing with anybody.
Xhex put her hands on her hips and kicked up her chin, her classic pose whenever they argued. “Call me when it’s done.”
“I always do.”
He gathered together the plans for the club, picked up his overday bag, and stepped out of his office and into the alley. Trez was waiting in the Bentley, and when he saw Rehv, he vacated the driver’s seat.
The Moor’s voice appeared in Rehv’s head, deep, melodic. I’LL BE THERE IN ABOUT A HALF HOUR TO SCOPE THE ENVIRONS AND CHECK THE CABIN.
“Good deal.”
TELL ME YOU’RE UNMEDICATED.
Rehv clapped the guy on the shoulder. “As of an hour ago. And yes, I have the antivenom.”
GOOD. DRIVE SAFELY, ASSHOLE.
“No. I’m going to aim for logging trucks and stray deer.”
Trez shut the door and took a step back. As he crossed his arms over his massive chest, he cracked a rare smile, his white fangs glowing against his dark, beautiful face. For a split second, his eyes flashed brilliant peridot green—the Moorish equivalent of a wink.
As Rehvenge took off, he was glad Trez backed him up. The Moor and his brother, iAm, had a bag of fancy tricks that would challenge even a symphath. They were, after all, royal members of the s’Hisbe of Shadows.
Rehv glanced at the Bentley’s clock. He was due to meet the Princess at one a.m. Considering it was a two-hour trip north and it was now eleven fifteen, he was going to have to drive like a bat out of hell.
As he took off, he thought about Xhex. He didn’t want to know how she knew about the sex . . . hoped like hell she continued to respect his wishes and not show up and hang in the