Page 42 of Run, Little Rabbit (Blood & Bonds #1)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Sphinx

T he noise in here is ridiculous. It’s loud, brash and pummels against my eardrums in a cacophony of grating, grinding screeches. “How the fuck is this music?”

“What?” Veon yells, leaning closer and bringing his ear closer to me.

Fuck. Why does the grumpy idiot smell so good?

Like rain clouds and cinnamon rolled up in one gorgeous package.

The temptation to lick the shell of his ear is ridiculous.

I almost do it, just to see what reaction I get, but I also don’t want him to walk away from me.

I hate nightclubs. I find them oppressive and overstimulating, and Veon’s soothing presence is like a balm to my frazzled soul. “I said, how the fuck is this music?”

Veon shrugs and twists a little to bring his mouth closer to my ear. “I dunno. I kind of like it.”

His breath tickles my skin, and part of me wants to push him away. Does he even know what he does to me?

Probably not. He’s still hung up over Echo.

And he’s straight. So, there’s that, too.

I’m a fool. Pining after the one boy I can’t have.

He turns back to surveying the crowd, watching Echo dance with Niki with a sad look in his eyes.

What a pair we make, standing on the sidelines just waiting for that one glance that makes us believe in hope.

Fucking hell, I need to slap some sense into me.

Besides, it’s fucking lewd how much Echo’s grinding on the guy, but she looks happy. I let out a deep sigh. Maybe I’m just jealous because I’m sat over here, wishing Veon was rubbing his dick against my ass the way Niki was with Echo.

We’d come out to Aurum after we’d spent the day arguing over the plan.

Apparently, there was a plan. Now, I’m still not sure, but Echo assures me that she knows what she’s doing, and that’s good enough for me.

To be fair, if it weren’t for Max and Veon, there wouldn’t even be a plan.

If it was left entirely up to Echo, we’d be winging it and hanging onto a fucking prayer.

How that woman has lived to the age of twenty-five is beyond me.

The music changes, shifting to some slow, pulsing beat that is moderately better than the thrashing metallic chaos from before.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Veon shouts into my ear, his voice low and aggressive, and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

And my dick. That fucker likes the way Veon growls.

I’m doomed. Completely, utterly doomed.

“Okay,” I reply, but he’s already walking away, his hands fisted and shoulders tense.

Doesn’t stop me from checking out his ass in those tight black jeans, and hot damn .

I’m so used to seeing him in combat trousers that seeing something that clings to the curve of his ass has me practically salivating.

I turn back to look at the dance floor and see the reason he walked away.

Niki is kissing Echo with absolute fucking reverence .

His hands are tangled in her hair, cradling her head like it’s the most precious thing his hands have ever touched.

He worships every inch of her mouth with whisper touches and deep, probing caresses, and I am in awe at the way he pours everything into that kiss.

I’d give my left kidney to be kissed like that.

I’m not the only one who notices either. People around them have stopped dancing, drawn into watching them as they lose themselves in each other. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

Hoots and wolf whistles cut through the air, and Echo bursts into laughter before dragging Niki off the dance floor so people can get back to dancing instead of watching a private porn show.

“Come on, Sphinx,” she says with a giggle and a blush covering her cheeks. “You should be dancing.”

“I would be if I had someone like Niki to dance with.”

Niki grins like a psycho, and it’s quite unsettling with how the flashing lights catch the whites of his eyes and teeth.

It’s like a scene from a horror movie, and I have a sudden urge to flee for my life.

His hands move in patterns that I don’t understand, and I have to look to Echo to translate for me.

She doesn’t mind, but I feel a bit guilty that I seem to be the only one who can’t sign. Even Veon understands the psycho.

“He says he’d happily take you for a dance,” she shouts over the music with a wide smile. “He thinks you’ve got a nice ass.”

My eyes blow wide. Maybe I’m better off not knowing how to sign if these are the sort of comments I’m going to get. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

Niki signs again, and Echo snorts. “He says it’s your loss, and I have to agree. He’s a pretty good dancer.”

I look Niki dead in the eye and hope that I convey more confidence than I’m feeling. “I’ll be sure to reach out if I can’t find anyone, but you won’t be the only one who likes the look of my ass.”

Echo throws her head back, laughing heartily at my challenge. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”

She grabs my hand and drags me towards the bar, but as I turn, my shoulder bumps into someone walking the other way.

My apology dies on my lips as I clock the guy who strolls past. He doesn’t notice me, but I know exactly who he is.

Santiago Salazar. I’ve fought against him in the ring a number of times, and I know he moonlights as a hitman for hire.

What the hell is he doing in a place like this?

He never seemed the type to go to a nightclub, more like a shitty bar where he wouldn’t be disturbed by society princesses in awe of his physique.

My senses immediately jump to high alert. It could just be a coincidence that Santiago is here.

Dressed in black.

Wearing shades with his head on a swivel, clocking all the exits.

Yeah. Purely coincidental.

Echo stops abruptly, and I slam into the back of her. She’s pulled her phone out and is looking at the screen. I can’t see her face, but one second we’re in the middle of the club; the next, she’s pushing Niki towards the VIP area and dragging me with her.

I clock Veon a few feet away and wave my hand in a ‘come hither’ motion. He immediately moves, clearly catching on that something is amiss.

I really hope it doesn’t have something to do with why Santiago is here.

As soon as we get to the glass wall, Niki enters the code to open the door into Max’s office, and we all barrel in.

“Bored already?” Angel says with a chuckle as we pile in.

He’s curled up on Max’s lap as he plays with a small flat chain that’s tucked into the collar of his baby blue shirt.

Is that a collar? Certainly looks like a collar to me.

Something zings through me at the thought, and my own hand brushes against the base of my throat, wondering what it must be like to be owned by someone.

The thought grips me fiercely, and it leaves me with a strange feeling that I can’t seem to shake.

Max looks happy and relaxed as he runs his fingers through Angel’s curls. He still looks like a predator eyeing you from his throne, though. It’s impressive how he can manage to look so relaxed yet ready to pounce at the same time.

“No,” Echo says shortly, her hands on her hips and her fingers tapping impatiently. “We have a problem.”

The playful energy evaporates from the room at her words. Max sits straighter, and Angel drops his languid fingers from that little chain.

“What kind of problem?” Max asks, his tone all business as he shuts off the speakers that play the music from the dance floor but at a lower volume.

Echo whips her phone out and makes a call on speaker, the dial tone loud in the now quiet space.

“Hello, killer,” one of the twins says, Cillian probably.

He always seems more robotic and soulless than his other half.

I always feel that there’s an unnatural chill, like death, entwined with his essence.

It’s creepy and feels like talking to the Grim Reaper.

I repress a shudder and huddle closer to Echo to listen in.

“You’re on speaker with all of us, Cillian,” Echo says, confirming my suspicion. “Why did you need me to call?”

“A notice has been put on St Olga’s page with a location and a time,” the other twin says, and the memory of Santiago pushing past me slams into the forefront of my mind. “Aurum and today at 10.30pm.”

“Oh, shit,” I mutter aloud.

Echo’s sharp eyes find mine. “What?”

“I saw Santiago Salazar in the club,” I say as I pull out my phone and start loading up St Olga’s Lost Causes.

“The hitman?” Veon asks as he steps closer to the large glass window, his eyes immediately looking over the crowds below. “Are you sure?”

I scoff. “Oh, yes. I’d know that face anywhere.”

“I feel like there’s a story there,” Max quips. He’s right, but I don’t comment. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.

Niki raises a blonde eyebrow at me in a challenge, but I throw a scowl back at him. “No, big man. I am not telling you about my history with Santiago.”

Niki’s other brow rises to meet the first one.

Shit. The guy can’t even talk, but he’s making me get all flustered, and my mouth is running something fierce. “I’m going to stop looking at you.”

Max and Angel laugh behind me as I go and stand with Veon. I don’t know why Niki gets under my skin. I’ve no idea why I let him get under my skin, the prick. The others don’t, and Veon… well, I just want him on my skin.

I can hear Echo muttering away to her brothers about what the notice on St Olga’s page means. I don’t think it can be anything good. Especially since I can see some other unwelcome faces in the crowd.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” I ask Veon.

“Probably,” he replies without taking his eyes off the crowded floor below us. “At least three assassins and two groups of thugs. I think leaving might be wise.”

“Agreed.”

Veon flicks a quick glance at me, and I don’t miss the surprise fluttering in his baby blues. “Don’t fancy your chances against them?”