Chapter 174
POV Dante
I sighed.
Her crying had returned, and my head was starting to throb.
The shot was louder than I could handle. Straight and clean to her forehead, the girl collapsed, bleeding, the scarlet puddle forming at Hawthorn's feet.
Her eyes were open, her mouth frozen in the same plea for help, and her blood-streaked arms adorned that gray floor.
"Find her parents' address and send her as a gift.
Let’s see if we can uncover anything this way."
Cole cracked his neck as Asher smiled in relief.
"What do you want me to write?" Hawthorn asked, picking up the woman and throwing her over his shoulder.
"Si vis pacem, para bellum."
***
Getting home was the highlight of any mission.
Since Vance was driving this time, I stayed warm in the back seat, hoping to fall asleep during the two-and-a-half-hour drive on the road. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, I couldn’t.
My brain was being electrocuted by other dilemmas unrelated to the Factory.
So, by the time we arrived, it was already morning. The sun was ready to scorch the forest with its heat. I quickly concluded that Emilia must be awake. The process of descending the stairs and reaching the house was instantaneous. Crossing the hall and heading to wherever she might be took no more than ten steps.
Emilia was in the kitchen, making her coffee. Her clothes were limited to my old t-shirt and some shorts.
I had already given her new clothes, including pajamas, but her comfort in wearing my clothes seemed more fitting.
"Oh, my God. You scared me!" she exclaimed.
"Your mouth woke up in a good mood."
"Exclusively for you," she said with a sarcastic smile.
"Oh, really?"
I raised an eyebrow, and she stiffened.
Damn, Gray.
The guys’ voices shattered the atmosphere. They sounded like a team of athletes after a victorious game, stomping heavily, taking off their shirts with no regard, and barging into the kitchen.
Before I knew it, Emilia was preparing to leave. I grabbed her wrist, stopping her. Her eyes held me captive for a moment, the apprehension reflected in them.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"I don’t want to stay with you guys."
"You’ll stay."
It was an order. A plea. Whatever it needed to be.
"You’re crazy if you think I want to stay with you."
Maybe I was.
"Don’t talk in plural," I said through gritted teeth.
Her brown eyes widened until she pulled her wrist free from my grip.
"You want me to stay with you?"
"No."
She rolled her eyes, stepping away again, but I stopped her.
Damn.
"Are you kidding me?" she snarled.
My Adam’s apple bobbed.
I wanted to shut that mouth. Her voice was irritating me.
"Stay." Pause. "Here."
Her forehead creased, her scrutiny sweeping my face before moving downward.
The headache prevented me from standing still, so I grabbed a glass of water. Even then, Emilia didn’t stop scrutinizing me.
"What?" I questioned.
"Is that blood?"
Her expression was comical.
"It’s not mine."
"Am I supposed to feel relieved?" she snapped.
"Are you worried?"
I filled my glass with water, watching her movements. She focused on making coffee, cooling it by swirling it in both hands and blowing on it occasionally. Her curls weren’t defined. She had probably slept without wearing the pink cap she liked so much or treating them with her creams.
Maybe I should buy more.
"Yes, I’m worried about the infections and diseases you might bring into the house."
"We’re hygienic," Asher shouted, clearly eavesdropping on our conversation, as he jumped onto the couch.
"Get up, you son of a bitch. Go take a damn shower," Cole ordered irritably, holding an energy drink.
"I’m clean, damn it. I wasn’t the one out killing," Hawthorn explained, crossing his legs and leaning his arm on the couch. The bastard sat like a king.
"If you don’t get up, I’ll make sure you know what it feels like not to have a dick," Cole threatened.
"No, man. Not him. He’s my best friend. He’s been with me since I was born. As much as I love you all, he’s more important. He’s been with me through my hardest and saddest times," he lamented, mocking Van Doren, who rolled his eyes, the vein in his neck protruding.
"Sad were the girls who had to endure you," Jaxon teased.
"Of course not. But as my great friend Cicero once said, ‘It’s not enough to have Asher’s dick. You have to know how to use it,’" Hawthorn declared.
My neurons were about to fry.
Asher had no limits.
"Nobody deserves to have Asher in their life," Jaxon joked.
"I brighten your sad days and stormy nights. Everyone deserves an Asher in their life," he sang drunkenly. "So, which episode of Friends are we watching?"
"You guys watch Friends?" Emilia asked, oddly indignant.
"Don’t you?" Asher shot back. "Even Vance likes it, right?"
We scanned the space, but there was no sign of Campbell.
"Where is he?" I asked skeptically.
"Clearly doing what all of us should be: taking a shower," Cole growled impatiently.
"Relax, Van. Sit here," Asher said, patting the couch provocatively. He loved getting under our skin. It was the highlight of his day.
"I can’t believe you guys watch Friends."
"That’s why the dog is named Rachel," I told her, watching her examine me. "It’s a silly thing we’ve had since we were kids."
"That doesn’t seem like something killers would do."
"Living with them doesn’t seem like something innocent people would do either," I countered, receiving a faint, sarcastic smile in return.
"Speaking of Rachel, has anyone seen her? She needs to eat," I said, crouching to grab her food from the lower cabinet, still holding my glass of water.
"She’s in my room." Emilia didn’t seem happy to share that information. "She won’t leave me alone."
"It’s because she likes you," Jaxon commented, his annoyingly friendly smile plastered on his face.
For a moment, I set the glass down on the counter to keep from crushing it.
"At least someone in this house doesn’t hate me."
"I don’t hate you," Jaxon said.
My blood didn’t like that at all.
"But you should," I growled at Fish, whose grin widened even more. "No one here has good feelings for you. I hope you know that."
Emilia glared at me with her brown eyes, her nose wrinkled, and her fists clenched, ready to strike me.