Page 45 of Tinsel & Chrome

I pull on my clothes with quick, practiced movements, shoving my feet into my boots. Tex finishes dressing and meets my eyes, the teasing light from earlier replaced by cold, hard determination.

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod, my fingers brushing the bruise on my cheek. Rage simmers low in my belly, a familiar, almost comforting heat.

“Always.”

He opens the door, and the moment we step out into the hallway, I know things are about to get a hell of a lot worse.

And this time, I’m not running.

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Chapter Six

Tex

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I step out of the room with Larissa right behind me, her footsteps light but steady. Mace is standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack his teeth.

His gaze flicks from me to Larissa, taking in our rumpled clothes and the unmistakable air ofjust fuckedclinging to us. His eyes darken, and his nostrils flare. The vein in his temple throbs like a ticking bomb.

“Don’t,” I warn him, keeping my voice low and steady.

But Mace doesn’t listen. He never does.

“What the fuck, Tex?” he growls, taking a step toward me. “You couldn’t keep it in your goddamn pants for one fucking night?”

“Mace—” Larissa starts, her voice calm, but he doesn’t let her finish.

“This is mysister!” He jabs a finger at me, his face a mask of betrayal and fury. “You were supposed to protect her, not—”

“Not what?” I snap, cutting him off. “Not give her what she fucking needs?”

Mace’s fist flies before I can finish, slamming into my jaw. Pain explodes in my face, white-hot and blinding. I stagger back a step, my teeth grinding together.

I deserve that. Hell, I knew it was coming.

But I’m not backing down.

I straighten, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth. Larissa’s eyes are wide, fury sparking in them like a live wire.

“Mace!” she snaps, stepping between us. “Enough.”

He glares over her shoulder, his chest heaving. “You really think this is what’s best for you, Riss?”

Her jaw tightens. “I think I get to decide what’s best for me.”

The tension between them is thick, suffocating. I can see the battle raging behind Mace’s eyes—the protective older brother versus the man who knows Larissa isn’t a little girl anymore.

Finally, he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he mutters. “But if he hurts you—”

“I’ll handle it,” Larissa says, her voice like steel.

Pride swells in my chest. That’s my girl. Tough as nails, even when the world’s trying to knock her down.

Mace shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “We don’t have time for this shit. Cyclops needs us in the war room. Now.”