Page 92 of Pretty Broken Wings

We drive in silence for a little bit longer before Gage says, “You know, if you really want to get under his skin, call him Garret.”

“What?” I glance over at Gage again. His big hand rests on his thigh, and his long fingers look graceful and powerful. I have to rip my gaze back to the road.

“Garret. It’s his real name.”

“It’s not Axel?”

“That’s his middle name. Mom named us both G names, you know, the whole twin thing. Axel hated it, so he goes by his middle name.”

I glance over at Gage again, but he’s still watching the road. His hand gives a tiny squeeze on his thigh.

Garret, huh?

“Thanks,” I say hesitantly.

Gage shrugs. “We’re a team. Anti-Axel team.”

A team? For a second, I feel relief. Then, distrust washes over me. A team with Gage? There are so many things that could go wrong. Like the biggest thing: What if he’s playing me?

But Gage just leans back, finger-tapping slightly now. “He puked all over our table at the cafeteria once. Someone wiped a booger on him.” Then, Gage chuckles. He actually laughs. “He begged me to say I was the one who puked. Said he had to keep up his image.”

Gage islaughing. I snap my gaze over to him. He has smile lines around his eyes and in the corners of his cheeks, almost like dimples. His laugh is deep and unhurried and wraps around me like a hug. It feels like…comfort.

I swallow. “Did you?”

Gage’s face drops, the humor fading from it. The car goes silent again, and it feels like I asked the wrong thing, although I’m not sure why or how.

“Sure did,” Gage says, although his voice is quiet now.

I have this odd urge to make it better. To tell Gage about how I also go by my middle name. To tell him how Mom was a hippie before Dad met her, and that’s how I ended up with a name like Celeste. About how I loved the name until a kid made fun of it every time he saw me at a camp, and I’ve wanted to change it ever since. About how I secretly liked switching to Raven after I had to run from Max.

But I don’t say any of that. It feels locked up inside of me, and we just sit in silence until we get to the bank.

On the drive back, all I can think about is how I was almost friendly with Gage. But it’s good I wasn’t. The less I tell him, the better. The less Gage knows, the less he can use against me.

Although Gage doesn’t seem like he wants to use anything against me, which is a dangerous concept because I thought the same about Max.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Being in a confined space with Raven makes me feel like I’m going to combust. I sit in a puddle of sweat.

Raven has an intoxicating way of just listening. I know she’s storing up every detail in that sharp brain of hers. Fuck, after the kiss, holding her hand to do her nails, then being forced into the car with her, I’m going crazy.

I take a cold shower as soon as we get back. It helps a little bit, but I still find myself wondering if Axel was doing anything to mess with Raven.

But when I sit down to start prepping for my next case, Raven comes in looking unharassed. She doesn’t mention that I have my glasses, so I don’t either. We just fall into an easy rhythm working side by side.

Although it looks like I’m working, my brain refuses to think of anything legal and just wonders about everything about Raven. What’s her favorite food? Why is it her favorite food? Will she tell me? It’s almost lunchtime. Will she let me cook it for her? Why is she so distrustful? What happened with Max?

In the afternoon, Axel slides into the room. Immediately, I notice Raven’s posture change. She stiffens, tucking some hair behind her ear and refusing to let her gaze leave the papers, and I hate it. I want Raven to be able to relax.

“Can’t have you working for free, can we, baby girl?” Axel waves his hand at me. “Glasses.”

At this moment, I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone. I want to scream at him. To tell him he’s scaring her, and if he’d just stop being such a dickhead things would go okay.

But I don’t. Sometimes, it’s best not to fight with Axel. Especially right now when he looks like a dog with a bone. If he knows you want something, he’ll go after it ten times harder.

I hand the glasses over.