A couple of steps carried her around the desk, and I needed to swallow heavily at the picture she painted in those sexy-as-fuck heels and the huge gun strapped under her arm right beside her breast.
"What are you doing tonight, Cass?" she asked, stepping right into my personal space so I needed to look down to meet her eyes. Fuck, she was short, even in those heels. My hands itched to grab her by the waist and shove her against the wall while I impaled her sweet cunt on my dick. If I thought for a second she wouldn't put a bullet in me for that, I'd have done it by now.
I gave a small frown in response. "Uh, Reaper shit," I grunted. "Why?"
Her left shoulder rose and fell in a slight shrug. "I've had a crappy day and could use some company tonight."
What... the fuck? Is she hitting on me?
Dumbstruck, I just blinked at her in confusion. Then she bit her lower lip and her usually hard gaze heated and I was a fucking dead man. My dick strained against my jeans, and my pulse raced like I was a prepubescent boy about to be kissed for the first time.
"Hades..." I murmured, trying and failing to keep the ache of longing out of my voice. But shit. Was I on a trip? Nah, not possible. I hadn't even smoked tonight, and unless someone had drugged my beer, there was no way I was imagining this. Was there?
She drew a noticeable breath, then reached up to place a hand on the back of my neck. The shock of her fingers against my skin was like a lightning strike, and I could barely breathe when she leaned in closer.
Fate was never so kind to me, though. The second I made the decision to kiss her, the false wall panel behind her slid silently open, and Zed met my eyes with a threatening glare, his hand resting casually on the butt of his rifle. A split second before Hades’s lips met mine, I turned away, and her kiss seared a hot brand against my cheek instead.
"Sorry," I grunted as my stained soul screamed in agony, "I've got shit to do."
Anger and embarrassment flashed across her beautiful face as she stepped back, but it was gone in an instant as her signature hardness returned. "I guess I misread the way you were just eye-fucking my mouth then, huh?"
I swallowed heavily, hating myself already. But Zed's presence was the last nail in this coffin. She deserved better than my broken bullshit. Better to squash the spark now before it burned either one of us.
"Yeah," I muttered. "You did. I don't fuck children."
It was a phrase I used so damn often when Shadow Grove’s college girls came sniffing around, searching for a taste of the dark side, so it just fell from my lips before I could even consider the consequences. But I instantly regretted it when her eyes widened and her body flinched like I'd physically struck her.
Fuck. Fuck. What had I just done?
Too late now, though. So I jerked my head to Zed in acknowledgement and stomped my moody shit out of the office, out of the bar, and straight across to my bike. I needed to get the fuck out of there before I finally broke and begged for forgiveness at her feet. What a fucking mess.
I didn't look back once as I kicked my engine over and roared out of the parking lot, but I had to stop at a traffic light two blocks away. A sleek black Ferrari pulled up beside me as I waited for the light to change, and fury rippled through my whole damn body.
"Fuck off, De Rosa," I snarled, barely even glancing over at the driver, who'd rolled his window down.
Still, I could see enough of him to know he was smirking at me in victory. Son of a motherfucking whore. If I wasn't afraid of the backlash from Hades, I'd have kicked his head in by now.
"She's out of your league, Saint," he replied, but his voice lacked the mockery I was expecting. It made me turn to inspect him closer, and I found nothing but bitter regret on his face.
I huffed. "No shit. Yours too."
Zed didn't argue. He just jerked a nod. "I know."
The light changed to green, and we both peeled out in opposite directions without another word. Zed seemed to be heading toward 7th Circle, and I was on a mission to get fucked up and fucked. Anything to make me forget the monumental mistake I'd just made with the one woman who haunted my dreams day and night.
Shit. I really was a fuckup.
HADES
Present
It was impossible to miss the venomous looks I was catching from the huge turnout of Reapers and former Wraiths gathered in the chapel. None of them were ballsy enough to outright confront me, but I could sense what they were all thinking. The mix of animosity and fear was so thick it coated my skin like sludge, but none of it affected me. None of it shook my stoic, professional expression and posture. None of them scared me in the least, so their hatred was inconsequential.
Cass had been loved by his gang, there was no question about that. He'd been the best thing that'd happened to the Reapers since they'd been formed by the D'Ath brothers three generations ago and had made more of a positive impact in just a year and a half as their leader than Zane D'Ath's entire reign.
So it was no great surprise that his death was being honored with a full funeral service, whereas other fallen gang leaders barely even earned a death certificate.
I shouldn't have allowed it. He'd openly disobeyed one of my strictest rules and had paid the price. Traitors shouldn't be honored. But when Roach had asked my permission to hold a funeral, I hadn't been able to refuse. How could I? Cass was... Fuck.
"We shouldn't be here," Zed muttered under his breath from my right side. He was heavily armed—like almost everyone else in the chapel—and his sharp gaze continuously scanned the hostile crowd around us.
"Fuck that," Lucas hissed on my other side. "Hades can go wherever the fuck she wants. And she wants to be here. So shut the fuck up."
Both Zed and I turned to look at Lucas, but he just tipped his chin up and refocused on the weeping woman at the front of the chapel telling a story about some abusive ex that Cass had saved her from.
Lucas had changed so much since Chase had taken him a month ago. He'd always been mature for his age, but the torture he'd suffered at my ex's hands had hardened him, brought him deeper into my world. As much as I should have regretted it... I didn't. Every new facet of Lucas's personality that emerged was just hooking me harder.
I didn't say a damn word for the entire service, sitting on the hard wooden pew with my spine as straight as a board and my black dress immaculate. But inside, I was a mess. Every accusing side-eye from the Reapers had me reliving that moment when I’d shot one of the men I was so dangerously in love with.
Over and over throughout his funeral service I saw myself pulling the trigger of Zed's gun. I saw the bullets hit their target. I saw the blood spray, the shattered wine bottles spilling cabernet sauvignon all over the stone floor as Cass's broad frame hit the racks behind where he'd sat.
My fingernails cut bloody marks in my palms as I pretended to listen to the sermon from the Reaper-bonded priest who droned on about God's will, when all I could see in my mind was the bloody mess my bullets had torn through Cass's body. I swallowed deeply as I remembered the pain of accusation in Zed’s and Lucas's eyes when Chase had finally left the cellar. That had hurt almost as much as shooting Cass in the first place.