Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Sorry,” he says between laughs, wiping at his eye. “I thought of you and Torin like an old, married couple for a second and that’s making me lose it.”
“The fuck, Roman?” I protest.
He laughs again. “I know you’re not gay, chill out. Sorry. It was just a funny image.”
Real goddamn hilarious.
A sudden streak of irritation runs through me, and I can’t really control it.
“I’m not straight, either, but thanks.”
His face morphs into confusion. “No? You always said you’d be in threesomes with dudes but didn’t interact with them.”
“Well, maybe I’ve changed my mind.”
Roman shrugs. “Nice. Glad to hear. I don’t give a fuck, but still. Glad you’re trying new things, buddy.”
The idea of telling him who I’m trying new things with is apparently so ridiculous that it would make him cry tears of laughter, but he’s never going to have that information in the first place.
“So,” Torin says when he gets back to the table, staring at Roman. “Where did you go last night?”
Roman’s still wiping at his eyes from laughing. “You asking me?”
“I am asking you,” Torin says, and I can see that he’s pointing his fucking death-glare daggers right at Roman right now. “Where did you go last night after poker?”
Roman settles down really quick.
It’s strange to be a witness to Torin’s wrath from the outside rather than being the target of it.
I know exactly how it feels to be on the receiving end of that fury.
“I had some things I needed to take care of,” Roman says, leaning back on the booth. “Where did you go?”
“Upstairs.”
Roman nods. “I went upstairs, too.”
“But before that, you left the house, through the front door, on Red Row. I saw you from my window, so save yourself time trying to deny it. Where did you go?”
Roman’s laughter is completely gone now.
He holds Torin’s gaze firmly.
“What’s it to you?”
“It’s a lot to me,” Torin explains calmly, pausing to take a bite of pineapple. “I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten that we have a certain member of Onyx Society who is very much in danger right now, Roman.”
Roman’s expression is blank.
Terrifyingly so.
“Pretty sure I remember that. But thank you, Torin.”
“So what the fuck are you doing about it?” Torin asks him, leaning forward over the table.
His words hang in the air for a moment and I’m almost worried Roman might pull out a gun and point it at Torin right here in the middle of Colossus.
But he just looks away, then after a few beats, looks back at Torin.
“Fuck you, Jensen.”
“I know you don’t give a shit about protecting Noah,” Torin says, his voice pure venom and his eyes glinting.
I’ve never seen anyone speak to Roman that way.
Nobody in Onyx Society or the other houses has ever dared to press him like this, and it’s just an unspoken rule that nobody breaks.
“You should shut your mouth,” Roman says quietly.
He raises his eyebrows just a little, and I know I’m standing on an active volcano that could erupt at any moment.
Torin is relentless, though. “You want him as your fucking buddy, or sidekick, but when push actually comes to shove, you don’t make any progress in finding who those kidnappers are—”
“You don’t have a clue what I am doing for that.”
Torin’s eyes go wide. “That’s why I’m asking you, Roman. So talk.”
“Guys, please,” I finally say, wishing I could disappear through the bottom of the booth seat.
“The Maletti family is… stupid,” Roman starts to say, his eyes still pinned on Torin. “They are vicious, but they are not clever. Last night, I needed to go make an attempt to exploit that weakness.”
Holy fuck.
He’s actually talking.
Torin just keeps staring at him, his expression unchanged.
“Maks received information that the younger Maletti boy was going to be meeting with a contact at a bar, and I needed to be there.”
“What bar?” Torin asks.
“One far from here.”
“Far from here, yet you walked there on foot?”
Roman exhales, shaking his head. “No, I did not. Maks was parked on the opposite side of campus, because I’m not a fucking fool who would be picked up at my home. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly.”
“Maks and I drove there and waited. Waited, and waited. If the younger Maletti showed his face walking into that bar, we could have gotten information from him.”
“You were going to torture someone last night?”
Roman looks down at the table, running his fingertip along the surface. “I’m not going to explain to you every little detail, but no, intimidation does not always require torture, Torin.”
Torin pulls in a breath.
I’m still teetering on the mouth’s edge of that volcano, knowing one slip could make all three of us fall in.
I stay silent, because I can’t even begin to fathom how Torin got Roman to talk.
It’s like magic.
“So he didn’t show up?”
“He did not.”
“Hey, Roman,” Torin says. “You never did tell us what was in that fucking box. The night you made Noah go do your dirty work for you. What was it?”