The Black Dagger Brotherhood_ An Insider's Guide - J. R. Ward [127]
As if learning an entire language took no notable effort.
“Hey, I’m feeling left out over here.”
“Just giving the man a little advice.”
John whistled to get V’s attention. Will you ask Butch what he’s going to get for a tattoo?
“Good question. Cop, what’re you getting done tonight, man? Tweety Bird on your ass?”
“I’m adding to an old one.” Butch went over and threw open the closet doors, taking off the robe so he was just in his black boxer-briefs. “What to wear . . .”
John tried not to stare and failed. The cop was built. Big shoulders. Thick, fan-shaped muscles flaring out from his spine. Arms that were cut. He wasn’t as immense as a vampire like Tohr, but he was easily one of the bigger human men John had ever seen.
And all across the small of his back was a tattoo. Done in black ink, the geometric pattern took up a lot of space. It was a series of lines—no, it was a numerical thing. Groupings of four lines with a diagonal slash. Five of them and one lone line. Twenty-six.
V pointed to John’s duffel. “Hey, man, your bag’s leaking. You got shampoo or some shit in there?”
John shook his head and then frowned when he saw the stain in one corner. He went over and pulled back the zipper. There was something on his clothes, something white, opaque . . .
“What the hell is that?” V said.
Oh, God . . . had someone . . . ?
Butch nudged John out of the way, put his hand right in there, then lifted his fingers to his nose.
“Conditioner. Hair conditioner.”
“Better than what I thought it was,” V muttered.
Butch’s hazel eyes lifted upward. “This yours, J-man?” When John shook his head, the cop asked, “You got problems at school you ain’t talking about?”
The man’s face was dark, as if he were prepared to go hunt down whoever was screwing with John and his stuff and pound them into the ground like a tent pole. And for a moment, John entertained a happy little picture of Butch popping Lash a good one and then stuffing the guy into a locker.
But he wasn’t about to have his problems solved by someone else.
As he shook his head, Butch’s eyes narrowed and he looked at V. Who nodded once.
Then Butch went all smiles, fronting real casual-like. “I’ll call Fritz and he’ll clean your clothes. And don’t worry, we’ll find you something to wear tonight. No problem.”
John looked at V, not falling for the no-big-deal on the cop’s face. Tell him it’s nothing. Tell him I can handle it.
V just smiled. “Butch already knows that, don’t you, cop?”
“That it’s no big deal and he’ll take care of it? Yeah, I know, J-man.”
I thought you didn’t understand sign language?
Butch shook his head. “Sorry, don’t read hands yet. But I know from assholes, son. Like I said, you don’t worry about a thing.”
The man kept grinning, his expression entirely pleasant. As if he were going to enjoy getting to the bottom of the problem.
John looked at V for help. Except the vampire just crossed his arms over his chest and nodded again at Butch. Totally onboard with the plan.
Whatever plan it might be.
Oh, crap.
The following scene is not really a deleted one, but something I edited a lot in the revisions of Lover Awakened, mostly because I didn’t like the vibe. (The scene in the book starts on p. 344.) Bottom line, I thought this came across as too rough for Z and Bella’s good-bye, but now I wish I’d gone with what I saw in my head. I think the scene in the printed book was good, but this is better:
Bella packed up her things in less than two minutes. She didn’t have much to begin with, and what little she did have she’d moved from Z’s room the night before. Fritz would be coming for her things soon and would drive them to Havers and Marissa’s. Then in another hour she would dematerialize to their house and Rehvenge would meet her there. With a guard.
Stepping into the dim bathroom, she turned on the lights over the sink and double-checked the counter to make sure she had everything. Before she stepped away, she looked at herself in the mirror.
God, she’d aged.
Under the pool of illumination, she lifted