Kade strides out the store, his heart thumping in his ears. He needs to hurt that bastard. But Felix said no. He straddles his bike, twisting the throttle. Then he stops by a gas pump, driving his fist hard into the news anchor on the display screen. The screen cracks under the impact, going black. Kade wipes the blood off his fist, revs the bike engine.
If it were Rick’s face, that punch would have been a hundred times more fulfilling.
The text comes late in the afternoon, just after four. I hope it wasn’t you who broke the screen.
Kade frowns when he receives it, settling on his bed. Why? He deserved it.
Sigh. You should have just left, Kade, instead of aggravating him further.
He growls. Ignore that asshole? Does Felix think he can do that?
He’s been a bitch the whole day. Even the other customers were swearing at him.
I’m not surprised, Kade sends. He’s a POS. But Rick has been a pain to Felix, even if Felix didn’t say it outright. That wasn’t Kade’s intention at all. Did that bastard take it out on Felix? Kade’s breath catches. You okay?
Because if Felix isn’t, Kade will storm down to that gas station and beat that guy up.
I’m fine. Felix adds a sad face behind his words. Kade relaxes, wincing. His thumb hovers over the call button. He hadn’t stopped to think what the consequences might be. He should have. And that was why Felix had left him, wasn’t it? He wasn’t good enough for his bondmate. Even now, he’s not good enough.
Kade sets his phone down on the mattress, swallowing hard. His laptop screen glows, reminding him of the work he still has to do. Kade turns away from it. A minute later, he picks the phone back up. Sorry, he types. Won’t do it again.
Then he hits the call button before he regrets it, pressing the phone to his ear. His heart hammers.
Felix answers two rings later, muffled street noise in the background. “Kade?”
“Hey,” he says, his tongue fat and stupid in his mouth. “Look, I’m sorry.”
Felix sighs. Kade winces. His omega sounds miserable. “Don’t worry about it,” Felix says. “He’ll be better tomorrow.”
“I didn’t think—I was just pissed,” Kade says. Hearing the weariness in Felix’s voice makes it worse, somehow. “Sorry.”
“Are you hurt? I looked at the screen. There was a bit of blood.”
Kade looks at the raw skin on his knuckles. “I’m fine.”
“I’m glad.” Felix blows out a sigh, his voice right next to Kade’s ear. “Don’t go hurting yourself. I thought the screen might have shocked you with electricity, but Susan said it wouldn’t. I’m... Well, I was worried.”
Kade swallows. Felix cares? He presses his phone close, wishing he had his bondmate closer. He doesn’t want Felix to stop talking. “I won’t do it again, okay?”
“Promise?”
As long as that bastard doesn’t hurt you. “Yeah. I promise.”
“Thanks. It might be best for you to avoid the gas station when Rick’s around,” Felix says. In the background, the bus tires squeal to a stop, and the bus hisses. The noise mutes, and coins tinkle into a collection box. “I mean, I’d feel better if you didn’t butt heads with him.”
“Fine,” Kade says. “You have the times he drops by?”
“Mostly. But text me if you’re coming over,” Felix says. “I’ll tell you if it’s convenient.”
Kade lies back in bed, closing his eyes. He imagines Felix on the bus home, squeezed between other passengers, his blond hair falling over his eyes. Felix is allowing him into his life, allowing him to listen in on what he’s doing. And Kade is grateful for it, even now. He’s spent years not knowing at all. “Yeah, that works.”
“Thanks,” Felix says, a smile in his voice. “I really don’t mind if... well, if you drop by. Not saying you have to, of course.”
You want me there? Kade’s pulse thuds in his ears. “I’ll see what I can do,” he says. He’d be there every day if he could, except maybe that would make him seem too desperate. Maybe every two days. “Tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Felix says, and his voice brightens. “I’d love that.”
Something in Kade’s chest eases, like it had when he first saw Felix again. “Sure. See you then.”
19
Kade
Kade sets a plush giraffe down at the cashier the next morning. “Think the giraffe has a problem. There’s a murder on the candy aisle.”
Behind the counter, Felix stares. So Kade leads him to the candy section, where an ugly Halloween monster from the year before lies face-down on the floor, surrounded by plush rabbits, tigers, and cows. Felix stops at the start of the aisle, jaw hanging open.
“Guess we have an audience,” Kade says, his heart beating slow in anticipation. “You came too late. The murderer got away.”
And Felix snorts, stepping forward to crouch next to the stuffed toys. Humor glitters in his eyes, and Kade breathes out, relieved. Felix picks up a stuffed cow. “I’m shocked, Kade. There was a murder on my watch?”
“You should have watched more closely. Dangerous people around these parts.”
Felix turns to study him, his eyes gleaming. “And how would I know you aren’t the murderer?”
Kade shakes the giraffe. “I have an alibi.”
“You could be accomplices!”
“Do I look like a murderer?” Kade scowls, pushing his lower lip out in an imitation of a pout. “I was just drinking with the giraffe.”
Felix clutches his stomach, his laughter rippling through the store.
Kade grabs a bag of cola-flavored gummies. “See, drinks.”
Felix doubles over then, chortling silently, his eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t—can’t believe you did this,” he gasps, shaking a cow at Kade. The toys aren’t even hurt or destroyed, just sitting on the floor, but Felix wipes tears from his eyes anyway. “Plushie murder? Really, Kade?”
Kade shrugs, turning away. “Actually, the giraffe’s the murderer. You shouldn’t let them fool you.”
“You’re walking off with it? Aren’t you afraid for your life?”
“Do you think I should be?”
Felix beams, gathering up the stuffed
