He ignores me. “It’s almost dark.”
That one sentence garners a reaction from every man at the table—but none more than Krystian. He stiffens, the lust draining from his eyes until it’s replaced by something akin to terror.
“How much time do we have?”
“Relax,” Everett says. “We still have an hour.”
“What’s going on?” I flick my gaze between the four of them. “Are you guys afraid of the dark or something?”
“Or something,” Krystian mumbles, appearing uncharacteristically subdued.
Discordant notes scream like alarm bells in my head.
“And are you going to tell me…?” I stare at him pointedly, but he, too, ignores me.
Instead of answering, he flags down the waitress and asks for a bill.
When she returns a few minutes later, she hands it to me, and I notice a number scrawled at the top.
Before I can take a closer look, Rafael rips it from my hands and passes it to Everett, who already has a credit card out. When he catches my look, he rolls his eyes.
“Ares pays well,” he explains.
As soon as the waitress returns with a slip for him to sign, we head out of the diner. The motel looms before us, tall and foreboding.
“Come on. We need to go faster,” Krystian urges, flicking his gaze towards the descending sun.
“You can go on without us,” Zaid tells Krystian. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Krystian hesitates, his gaze flicking towards me, before he shakes his head, his jaw setting determinedly.
“No, I’ll be fine. It’s fine.” He once again glances at the darkening sky.
“What the hell is going on? What will happen when it turns dark?” I ask, exasperated.
“Nothing,” Krystian says quickly.
Too quickly.
“None of your damn business,” Everett grumbles.
Zaid, who’s walking beside me, smiles reassuringly. “We’ll explain later.”
Each step he takes has his hand brushing against my own. I wonder what it would be like to just…grab it. Hold it. I’ve never held anyone’s hand before.
So I do.
The calluses on his palm create a unique type of friction that makes my stomach flutter.
Zaid glances at our interlocked fingers, surprise alighting in his eyes. When I smile at him, swinging our hands between us, he returns it, a blush creeping up his cheeks.
We arrive at the motel, and I make a beeline towards Krystian and Zaid’s room. Zaid drags me back, appearing apologetic.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you’ll need to stay with Everett and Rafael tonight.”
“What? Why?” No offense to Everett and Rafael, but I trust Krystian and Zaid significantly more.
And they’re actually nice to me.
