Page 21

Delicious & Vicious

Ziggy: Okay, you asked for it and if I poison you, it’s all your own fault. There are chocolate brownies (thanks for the recipe, Bowie) in the coffee lounge… it was nice knowing you all!

Isley: I bet they’re delicious.

Ziggy: You’re taking your life in your own hands, you’ve been warned.

Bowie: Did you follow my recipe and instructions?

Ziggy: Exactly like you wrote them. I’m sure they aren’t supposed to look like anaemic poop!

Wilder: OMG! I’m gonna have to go have a look if I can escape ranty pants!

Bowie: Ranty pants? Is this a new fashion item I’ve missed the launch of?

Lennon: You missed nothing Bowie, it’s just Wilder coming up with a new name for Silas.

Ziggy stared at the screen, deep creases forming around his eyes as he debated with himself for a split second as to whether he should ask what Wilder meant.

Silas wasn’t a ranty person with anyone other than his brothers.

Chewing his lower lip, he waited another few seconds and, when it seemed no one was going to ask what Wilder meant, he gave in.

Ziggy: What are you talking about, Wilder?

Wilder: I never noticed before how much Silas likes to rant. I’m sitting here now, and he’s ranting down the phone at someone. It’s almost like he’s forgotten I’m sitting right in front of him. He’s giving me a headache with how he has to ask for anything in a decibel my raccoon hates.

Hollis: Wilder, if this is you looking to switch Starling brothers again, it’s not happening. My ears are still ringing from last time. AND why are you in the group chat if you’re in Silas’s office? You should be working.

Ziggy sat back in his seat and scratched his beard, his eyes narrowing as he reread what Hollis had mentioned.

Which brother had said something about the switch? Silas? Jupiter? Both? Jupiter didn’t seem at all bothered who he worked with.

Wilder implied Jupiter was lazy and couldn’t be bothered half the time.

Jupiter gave that impression when he strolled in late, like he had this morning, reeking of so many smells his snake had gone into hiding.

Despite that fact, he could dive right into work on any project and recite where they were up to and what was still outstanding.

That didn’t happen when someone was lazy, or not in Ziggy’s opinion.

Ziggy also got the sense that Jupiter acted into this role because it suited him… for whatever reason. It wasn’t his place to judge, and if Jupiter let him get on with his job, then things were all good.

Things could not be any different with Silas. After the epic sex, Silas had all but shook Ziggy off him when he’d asked what the silent treatment had been all about. The call that brought Ziggy to Silas’s office had come out of left field after the cold shoulder routine he’d been subjected to.

It had taken very little persuading to get naked and make out on the floor with Silas.

He was weak, what else could he say? When he’d come to his senses, a part of him felt…

used? And confused by the way Silas had offered his throat when Ziggy had bitten him, careful not to break the skin.

He’d needed—wanted answers. Because he was no longer willing to leave himself open and vulnerable to Silas in this way, when he was in love with him.

Honesty was what he wanted from Silas, but getting answers from Silas was like trying to hitch a ride to the moon.

The man was insufferable and had closed up tighter than a bank vault.

Fobbing him off with ‘I’ve been stressed with work’ like Ziggy couldn’t hear the lie, which just reinforced Ziggy’s need to protect himself.

A feeling he didn’t like at all when he had developed genuine feelings for the other man.

He expected respect—deserved it—and that meant honesty, so he was now the one avoiding Silas. He really despised this tit for tat thing they seemed to have going on.

Needing a distraction, his gaze roamed back to the screen and Wilder’s response.

Wilder: I’m waiting for him to stop ranting. And I’m not wanting to swap! I’m just saying he’s all ranty pants and giving me a headache. I’m allowed to come in here and talk about this shit. Isn’t it why we opted to change the name at Ziggy’s suggestion?

Frey: Your brownie is… nice.

Ziggy burst out laughing, he couldn’t help it. He was tempted to go to Frey’s office to figure out what he really meant by that comment. There was no way Frey ever used the word ‘nice’ when it came to cake.

A night stewing once more in his own juice had driven Ziggy to a last resort, baking.

He messaged Bowie for help after he’d already cleaned his home, tidied his closets out and basically driven himself nuts.

When he’d tried to work on some tattoo designs and created nothing but ugly blobs, he’d given in to trying something new.

When whatever the fuck had crawled up Silas’s damn ass had left Ziggy feeling like he was preparing to shed his snake skin, he’d recognized the escalation of his own behavior.

So, to stop himself from going to Silas’s parents' home and forcibly demanding answers with Silas handcuffed to his bed, he had gone with something different.

A desperate last resort, but now he wasn’t sure if he’d made a mistake. He hadn’t been lying when he said he couldn’t bake for shit. He hadn’t even bothered trying the pale offerings he’d brought in, with how unappealing they looked.

Ziggy: Nice… now I know you’re lying. You never refer to cake as nice! Big fibber.

Bowie: Erm… are you sure you followed my instructions? Used the right amounts?

Wilder: See? You’re torturing me cause now I wanna see.

Hollis: I’ll torture you if you don’t get off this app and focus!

Ziggy came out of the app, not wanting to piss off Hollis any more than he had, even though he continued to chuckle.

As he placed his phone back into his desk drawer to stop it from disrupting him, the door burst open.There Frey stood, holding the anaemic brownie clutched between his fingers. His expression was so conflicted there was no way Ziggy could stop the snorting giggles.

“If I’m gonna die from eating this, then you need to witness it so you can feel guilty for the rest of your life,” he declared dramatically, staring at the brownie like it could bite his hand off.

The giggling became uncontrollable. “Go on then… eat it,” Ziggy spluttered.

There was a flash of gray before Silas appeared in the doorway wearing a thunderous expression, towering over Frey.

Ziggy’s eyes narrowed on the other man, his stomach doing an unpleasant rolling thing that made it seem like he’d gotten on a rocking boat.

“Do you need something?” he asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible, although with how fast his heart was beating, he was sure that the pulse at his throat gave him away.

Frey cocked out his hip, twisting slightly to be able to give Silas his famous flirty smile while offering what he held to the silent, seething man.

“Wanna try some of Ziggy’s treat?” he asked, clearly not reading the room.

Silas snarled at Frey with such ferocity he shrank back, eyes fearful as he looked to the exit, which Silas was currently blocking.

“Behave,” Ziggy snapped, getting up and going to Frey, putting a protective arm around his friend. The hard eyed look he cast at Silas could have bounced right off the returning icy glare.

“I need to speak to you. Now !” Silas’s icy tone matched the glare.

No fucking way buster!

“As you can see, I’m busy right now. You need to come back later.” It was not a request. He didn’t give two shit’s that this man was his big boss. He would not tolerate him acting this way in front of Frey.

Silas’s slow blink came with a look of disbelief. There was a pregnant pause where Ziggy witnessed the emotions skitter over the motionless man’s face before he spun around and stormed out wordlessly, his large body rigid.

Frey sagged against him. “Holy moly! What do you think that was about?”

Ziggy didn’t meet Frey’s gaze as he let go and shrugged. “No clue. Probably some work thing to do with whatever Wilder was talking about.” Ziggy could see Frey’s doubt and worked to lighten the mood. “Maybe he wanted some of that melting poop and got jealous.”

Frey sniggered and eyed the melting glob he was still holding. “He’s welcome to it.”

“That’s mean.” Ziggy held back the relief at how easy it was to distract Frey with the awfulness of his baking.

“You were right.”

“How’s that?” Ziggy enquired, intrigued by Frey’s expression of wonder as he stared at what was in his hand.

“Eating this could be bad for a person’s health.”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. “I did warn you all! Cake baking and me just don’t mix.”

“This isn’t cake!”