Page 12 of The Wayward Sons & The Vampires of Fortune (The Wayward Sons #4)
I was running on no sleep and two cups of coffee.
Per Riley’s updated instructions, I sat at the back of a vibrant little café and waited for someone from his team to show up.
Who? I didn’t have a fucking clue. All I knew was that someone would find me and give me the rundown of what they were going to do.
As I sipped my way through a third cup, I struggled with this plan.
How could I trust someone I didn’t know to save Ryder?
Not that I had a better plan. My way involved just tearing through everything and everyone with my power until I got him out of there.
Except I knew it wasn’t an option. I couldn’t kill half of Phoenix just to save Ryder—though, I was real damn tempted to do just that.
I knew Ryder trusted Riley, so I was trying to lean into that. Trying to make that work for me.
But when that café door opened, I didn’t expect to see a face from the past—especially not Sam fucking West. The dick who got me sent to jail. And yeah, I could’ve said something, but I was just a lovesick puppy back then. Lovesick puppies didn’t fight back.
Pissed off ex-boyfriends though? We had no problem with that.
We also had no right noticing just how goddamn hot he was either. Unfortunately, I did notice just that.
Nearly two decades had done him good. His chestnut hair was neatly cut and windswept across his forehead, making those vivid blue eyes of his stand out.
A thick beard framed that million-dollar smile of his, and his skin was a golden tan as if he spent time outside.
A navy sweater was tailored to fit his broad shoulders and tapered waist while jeans hugged muscular thighs and probably made his ass look fantastic.
Yup, Sam West had no right looking that goddamn good.
There was some part of me that hoped this was all some wild coincidence—that the kid in Chicago hadn’t sent my ex-boyfriend to help me rescue Ryder. However, that hope was dashed the second Sam veered away from the checkout counter and straight toward me.
“No,” I snapped when he was in earshot.
“Gray—”
“Not a fuckin’ chance,” I snarled. Fuck this. No way in hell would this work. Not without me punching him.
“Gray—”
“Fuck you.” I pushed away from the table. I wasn’t staying here. “This ain’t goin’ to—”
“Sit your ass down, sunshine,” Sam ordered. And as if on command, my entire body did. Traitor.
“You got no right to call me that.”
“Maybe, but it made you listen, didn’t it?” He smirked. Fucker. He sat across from me, and we entered into the world’s most uncomfortable staring contest. Glaring contest? Probably the latter. At least, I was glaring. He was just staring.
Whatever it was, I was pissed. Beyond pissed. I didn’t have the goddamn words to describe how angry I was.
“Are you goin’ to talk?” I demanded.
“Are you going to listen?” Sam countered, arching an eyebrow.
“What the hell happened to your accent?” I asked. “You sound fuckin’ ridiculous.”
“Dialect training,” he said. “I wanted to be taken seriously in my career. The accent wasn’t going to cut it.”
“Right,” I drawled. “Wouldn’t want you soundin’ like me, now would we?”
“Gray—”
“Why the fuck are you even here?”
“Because you need help.”
“You’re the last person I need help from.”
“Were you always this difficult?”
“Prison made me difficult,” I shot back, and he visibly cringed. With a heavy sigh, he crossed his arms and leaned against the table. Leaned in closer.
“About that,” he began slowly.
“Don’t you dare,” I interjected. “I don’t need your goddamn apologies.”
“I owe you an apology,” he said over me, ignoring my objections. “I never should’ve let you take the fall for what I did. I didn’t mean to ruin your life.”
The audacity of this man.
“My life ain’t fuckin’ ruined just because you’re an irresponsible dick,” I snapped.
“I like my life. I love my life. And right now, my only goal in life is to get Ryder away from the goddamn vampires. So, unless you have somethin’ useful to say about that , I don’t want to talk to you.
I don’t want to sit here with you. I don’t want anything to do with you.
I ain’t some fuckin’ pushover anymore, you hear me? ”
“Duly noted,” Sam murmured.
“Duly noted,” I scoffed. “You sound like a fuckin’ douchebag now.”
“You done?” he replied. “Because we have a plan.”
“Well, at least you’re useful for somethin’,” I muttered. “What’s the plan?”
“Where are you staying?” he asked instead.
“That ain’t important.” Okay, I didn’t need him to know I didn’t have a place. I’d checked out of our hotel right after Ryder was arrested. I needed to be ready to run. “What’s the plan?”
“Let’s go,” he said and stood, swiping his coffee off the table.
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you.”
“Unless you know some damn good facts about Twilight, I suggest you do,” Sam retorted. “Because that’s the only way we’re having a conversation about you-know-what in public. Let’s go.”
I glared at him as he started for the café door. I would’ve rather sat and talked about teenage vampires than go anywhere alone with him. His plan had better be a good one, or I was punching him.