Despicable by Rory Miles
RONAN
I make a detour through town, casually—in a very obvious, threatening sort of way—strolling by Chad’s residence. It’s a little before six at night, and I see a light on inside. Lingering around the front yard for a bit, I wait until my presence is known. When the curtains finally move and he peers out, I lift my hand to say hello.
He scowls. I grin.
He flips me off. I blow him a kiss.
He closes the curtains. I head home.
Perhaps I’m being a bit childish, but it’s been a while since I’ve had a woman to care about, and my battered heart is already attached to her. She’s not my fated, but she’s hilarious, sexy, and caring. She might be a tad bit reckless, but that draws me in as well.
Bellatrix isn’t going to be pushed around by this douche. He can learn his place the easy way or the hard way. It’s up to him.
As soon as I reach the house, I hear Creed shouting. I rip the door open and race inside, stopping short when I find him pinned to the ground under Trix. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are wild when they swing up to meet mine.
Creed cackles, earning a slap to the stomach from Trix.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask
“Creep here thought he could cheat.” Trix narrows her eyes on him and leans closer. “Didn’t you?”
He grins. “How else was I supposed to win?”
“By not cheating!” she yells, but she’s not angry. Laughter colors every word, lightening the tone and making him burst into chuckles.
“I-” I shake my head. “Do you want me to kick his ass?” I ask her, raising my fists to show her I’m ready.
Her eyes widen, and she sniffs. “You’d do that for me?”
“Absolutely.” The word is out without a second thought, and her head rears back as if she wasn’t expecting the severity of my proclamation.
“Are we talking about more than Creed?” She glances between us. “Tell me what happened.”
Creed and I exchange looks.
“Chad and Creed might have gotten into a squabble.”
“A squabble?” she asks in disbelief. “What are you, eighty?”
“Maybe.” I shrug, playing up the whole immortality bit until her face turns scarlet with embarrassment. “No, I’m not eighty. Chad met Creed’s palm. His nose may or may not have been broken.”
“Definitely broken,” Creed cuts in. “And he met my foot.”
“He met mine too,” Trix says, smirking at Creed. “You guys are the best.”
“Aw, sweet cheeks. We like you too.”
Her smile falls. “I take it back. Don’t call me sweet cheeks.”
Waggling my eyebrows, I go to the fridge and open it, trying to manifest something amazing, but nothing appears. “Or what?”
She hops off of Creed and marches over to me. “I may be little, but I’m mighty.”
“That ass is mighty,” I say, reaching out to smack it.
Squealing, she swats my hand away and covers her butt with her palms.
“None for you.”
I slam the fridge shut and prowl toward her, grinning when she immediately steps back upon my approach. “Is that a challenge?”
Sighing, she rolls her eyes. “Are you hungry?”
“Always, but don’t change the subject.”
“I was joking, Big Guy.”
Grabbing the back of her neck, I kiss her hard and release her in the next breath. “Good.”
She holds her chest, like her heart is going to burst out of it, and huffs.
“What if we make something together?” I ask as a peace offering, giving her the easy out of this mock argument.
“That works.” She opens the pantry and grabs the bag of rice. “What about chicken and rice?”
“We’re out of chicken,” Creed says. “But I can go get some from the store.” He jumps up from the floor and leaves.
“They can send chicken but not eggs?” She shakes her head. “I don’t understand the High Pack.”
“That makes two of us.” I grab a pan and fill it with two cups of water, then dump a cup of rice in and set it on the stovetop.
Trix frowns, watching me as I cross my arms and lean against the counter next to her.
“Sometimes I forget why I’m stuck here, and other times it hits me in the face so hard I see stars.”
Grimacing, I search her face. “I wish I could tell you something that would make it better, but I don’t know if any of my words will be adequate. It sucks here, but with the right people, it’s not so bad.”
She nods. “Yeah. You guys make it easier.”
We grow quiet, both of us lost in our thoughts until the front door bangs open a few minutes later. “Chicken has arrived!”
“All right, let’s get meat ready.” Clapping her hands and rubbing them together, she smiles at him like nothing is wrong. The switch from honest to putting on a front is jarring.
“Trix,” I say, waiting until she looks at me before I continue, “It’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to pretend with us.”
“I’m not pretending with you,” she says. “I’m pretending for myself, because I don’t want to cry.”
“We won’t run away if you do.” Creed hugs her to his side, and she ducks her head and wipes her cheeks.
“Ugh, okay. Chicken.” She eyes him. “You’re a breast man, no?”
And like that, the tension is dispelled and Creed laughs.
“You know it.”
She rolls her eyes and sets to work prepping the meat. Creed brought breasts and thighs because I love dark meat, so she sprinkles all of it with salt and pepper, adding a dash of lemon pepper to the mix to give it a little extra flavor.
Creed leans against the counter by the breakfast bar, and together we watch her work, laughing at the jokes she cracks to keep herself from getting too serious.
Trix is strong, but I hope in time she’ll feel comfortable enough with us to fall apart and let us hold her. We may not be able to make it better, but at least she won’t be alone.