Page 254 of Safe Word

It was sobering. The warmth in me cooled to black. Awe and amusement bled out, replaced by that same dark tide that always came when I remembered Harris’ belt. His laughter. Her breath catching. The near ruin.

‘It’s not every day you hear you’d become a father,’ I murmured, slipping the mask back on.

She smiled. ‘It’s not confirmed,’ she said. ‘Still need to see the doc.’ Then she opened the door wider.

The motion may have been simple and ordinary to most people. But to me – it was a blessing meant only for the devout.

She spun on her heels, the white dress fluttering like a veil, and the world stilled. My pulse marked the time with each movement she made, my hand squeezing the blade in my pocket as I trailed close. Closer. Nearly drawing it right then.

Too soon.

‘Cain!’ she called, voice light, melodic.

Startled, I released the weapon in my pocket and I followed her into the heart of their new rental – into the wide space of white tiles and oakwood gleaming under filtered light.

The air smelled of polish and lemon, of false purity that stung my throat.

My gaze drifted – found him.

Cain D’Angelo. The pretender.

He turned, smiled unguardedly.

Unknowingly.

And just like that, my heart froze over. Jealousy flared, a sour communion under my ribs.

He moved towards me with open arms, the picture of fraternal ease.

A perfect imitation of grace.

When he reached me, he drew me into his arms. Patted my shoulder once – twice. Warmth. Trust. A heretic’s comfort.

‘Thanks for coming, Vinnie.’

And I smiled back, tapping him right back.

‘I couldn’t stay away.’