"Where did you leave your bike?" I asked after a long silence. "I'll drop you off."
He didn't reply for a handful of breaths, just stared at the side of my face until I cracked and glanced over at him in irritation.
"Just pull over here," he told me in a rumble.
I quirked a brow but shrugged and pulled over onto the shoulder. We were in a middle-class, suburban neighborhood, but whatever. I wasn't even remotely in the mood to play chauffeur, so the sooner I got him out of my car, the better.
He didn't get out, though. Of course not, that would have been far too cooperative.
I let out a sigh and swung my head around to face him, only to get myself snared in his intense-as-fuck stare. Like he was trying to mentally strip away my Hades shell to see what was underneath.
"Was there something else, Cass? Because I have shit to deal with."
"Yeah," he replied, "there is. I wanna know what you're hiding."
I barked a sharp laugh. "You're joking, right? Get the fuck out of my car, Cass."
He just glared. "Nope."
My brows raised, and my glare turned glacial. "Excuse me?"
He folded his huge arms over his chest and got comfy in his seat, visibly settling in for a long argument. That motherfucker knew he was too damn heavy for me to physically kick out of the car, and we'd already established the fact that I didn't want to shoot him. Not for real.
"You heard me, Red," he growled. "I'm not getting out until you tell me what the fuck is going on."
Anger burned through me at his demand. Who the hell did he think he was dealing with?
"Cass—" I started, my voice like death.
"Hades," he replied, cutting me off. "I'm not going to blow smoke and placate you here. I'm asking you to trust me and let me help. Something bad is going down, and you know more than you're telling me."
I scoffed. "No shit. Last I checked, you're not on my list of trusted confidants, Cassiel. Just because I want you to throw me around your bedroom a bit doesn't mean I trust you. Sex and trust don’t automatically go hand in hand. You should know that." Yeah, I was taking a jab at his reputation of using women like they were disposable. I'd had more than one of my strippers sob her eyes out after catching his eye for a night, only to be sent home in the early hours of the morning.
His dark gaze heated. Then he gave a small nod and seemed to be thinking. "Alright. Let's go. Lexington Six."
I froze. Lexington Six was the name of the building he lived in, along with a handful of other upper-level Reapers and their families.
"You want me to drive you home?" I was confused. Okay, so I wasn't totally confused, I just wanted him to spell it the fuck out so there was no misunderstanding.
He gave me a droll look. "No, I want to give you what you fucking want so maybe you can start thinking with your brain instead of your cunt. Clearly you need it."
Stunned didn't even begin to describe what I felt at that statement. So, after blinking at him like a possum in headlights for a moment, I shook my head, pulled my gun, and pointed it at his head.
"Get the fuck out, Cass."
He cocked one brow. "No."
I flicked the safety off with my thumb, my stare hard and uncompromising. "Get the fuck out. Apparently, kissing you has provided you a false sense of security. I will not be spoken to like that. Not from a lover and certainly not from a subordinate. Right now you're only one of those, and you're goddamn close to becoming neither. Get. Out."
He stared at me for a long, tense moment. I didn't blink, though, and I didn't back down. If that was how he treated women he was interested in, it was no fucking wonder he was still single.
Eventually, though, he backed down. His gaze flicked away from mine, and he let out a heavy sigh. Then he scrubbed a tattooed hand over his scruffy stubble and muttered a curse under his breath.
"You're right," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have said that. I apologize, Hades." His tone was all resigned professionalism that cut me deeper than his crass offer to fuck me just now.
I put my gun away, giving a bitter laugh. He hadn't done what I’d asked; he was still sitting in my car. But he'd backed down first, and that was what counted.
"Fuck you, Cass," I said softly. "You blow so hot and cold I can't keep up. What the fuck was all that the other day? Kissing me then backing the hell off? You're too damn old for stupid games."
He grunted a sound of agreement. "Exactly. I'm too damn old."
I gave him a hard side-eye. "You clearly think I'm stupider than I look if you believe I'm buying that bullshit."
Cass shifted in his seat, turning slightly to face me. "You're right; that is bullshit. You wanna know the truth?"
I narrowed my eyes. "No, Cass, I enjoy being lied to. It's so much more fun this way." Sarcasm dripped from every word, and he just waited patiently. "Yes," I snarled after a moment, "I want to know."
He gave a nod. "Then tell me what that pattern was beside the Wraith's bodies. Trust me with something."
My heart raced so hard I could have sworn it was bruising my ribs, and my palms sweated. But I didn't let any of that panic show on my face as I considered his request. He wanted me to trust him... and deep down I did want to.
I ran a quick risk assessment of sharing that one detail, then ultimately decided there was no real risk. Sooner or later, I would need his help. I could already sense that whoever was attacking us wouldn't stop at being a small-time nuisance.
"It means Darling," I told him after a painfully long silence between us. "It's my middle name. Zed designed it a long time ago."
Cass's brows flicked up a fraction, then dropped into a scowl. "Why leave it beside these bodies?"
I drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "It's a message to me. We think all these little attacks are somehow retaliation for Chase's death."
Cass didn't say anything immediately, running his hand over his stubbled chin as he thought this new information over, frowning all the while.
"Chase Lockhart?" he asked. "He died with the rest of your father's men, didn't he?"
I jerked a nod. Cass and I hadn't met until after I’d taken over the Timberwolves; he probably had no idea just how deep the Lockharts had been mixed up with my father. He also didn't know about my history with Chase.
"We were engaged," I admitted, then snapped my mouth shut. So much for just offering up one innocent, hard-to-bite-me-in-the-ass piece of information.
That seemed to shock Cass more than anything. "You were only eighteen," he said, and I shrugged. I wasn't suddenly spilling my guts about my damaged fucking upbringing to him now that we were having a rare moment of open communication.
"So?" I prompted. "Your turn. What's your deal?"
His gaze swung back to mine, and I just knew he was going to lie to me.
"I'm not attracted to you," he said, his voice a flat growl. "You're too young for me."
I held his unblinking stare for a moment, my expression frozen in a blank mask to hide the way disappointment crashed through my chest. Truth or not, those words hurt more than I'd have liked them to.