Page 30 of Whips and Chains (Saint View Murder Squad #2)

Honestly, there were about five women in this entire bar. And they had to choose now to go?

“Violet?” X hissed. “You pooping?”

I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “No, X. I’m not pooping.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh good. I’m not very good with bodily functions. Piss. Shit. Vomit. Gag.”

I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling. “Okay, good to know. Thank you. You can go now.”

“Or I can stay with you.”

A smile flickered at the corner of my mouth. “Why would you do that?”

“I just thought we should discuss the tiles. Truly hideous, don’t you think? They should get one of those renovation shows in here. They could put in a farm sink, maybe some wainscotting and vaulted ceilings…”

I could barely conceal my amusement. “Do you actually know what any of those things are?”

“No, I’m just saying words I hear them say on those shows a lot because I don’t want you to tell me to leave again.”

I sighed and leaned forward to unlock the stall door.

It creaked open to reveal X on the other side, arms crossed, leaning against the bathroom wall watching me. “Who was that guy?”

“An old foster brother.”

He studied my expression, and for once, was actually observant of what it meant. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to send him one of our joint Christmas cards this year?”

I couldn’t help my tiny smile becoming a big one. “We’re sending joint Christmas cards?”

“Well, duh. Of course. We’ll be married by then, and you’ll be Mrs. X and I’ll be Mr. Violet, and we’ll have adopted a rescue kitty named Harold who is really ugly.

But so ugly he’s kinda cute. You know? Harold is also really mean, but Reginald really needs a friend, so it has to happen.

We’ll wear matching sweaters, even Harold and Reginald will have one, and we’ll be kissing beneath the mistletoe.

” He winked at me. “And I’ll be grabbing your boob. ”

I snorted on my laughter. “You’ve got it all planned out, huh? Very creative on the ugly kitty.”

He frowned at me and then pulled out his phone, scrolling through it. “No, seriously. I’ve already got our names on him. Look.”

He flipped his phone around. The little screen showed a nearby animal rescue website, and in the center, a photo of the most bedraggled, angry cat I had ever seen in my life. “Harold” was written beneath the photo, with an adoption date set for next week.

“He’s brand-new on the site. But don’t worry, I knew everyone would want him, so I got in there so fast. He’s definitely ours. They just need to do some vet checks and things first. They said we can pick him up next week.”

I stared down at the feral-looking cat that had a face I doubted even its mother loved.

There would be no one lining up to give this animal a home. Of that I was sure.

Nobody but X.

Because he saw beauty in things most people didn’t. And I kinda loved that about him.

I passed him back the phone. “He seems like a great cat. I’m not sure Reginald needs saving though. He has a pretty cushy life at the park.”

He put the phone back in his pocket. “You’re probably right. He also has no arms to wear a Christmas sweater, so he probably can’t be in the photo anyway.”

Laughter felt nice on my lips, but it faded away. “Travis would never be on my Christmas card list, whether Reginald is in our photo or not.”

X nodded thoughtfully. “You want me to kill him?”

For a single, horrifying minute, I realized I wanted to say yes.

The realization left me cold. I knew if I said yes, X would do it. It wasn’t just a joke to him, like it would have been with most other guys. If I told X I wanted Travis dead, then he would make it happen.

Then I would be responsible for ending a man’s life, even if I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger or plunged the knife.

It would still be on me.

Just like Toby’s death was.

I couldn’t stand the weight of that, hanging around my neck like a second noose when the first one was already killing me slowly.

I shook my head. “No. No killing. He’s mostly harmless. He’s just a narcissistic asshole who wants money. He’ll get bored and disappear when he realizes I don’t have any.”

X pressed his lips together in a way that made me think he didn’t agree.

I really didn’t want any more killing or death on my hands.

Unless it was the person who was watching us. The real person who was responsible for Toby’s death.

They were going to die slowly and painfully, and I was going to be the one to do it. Toby’s death wouldn’t go unpunished. I refused to let that happen.

But Travis wasn’t worth breaking a nail over, let alone anything more.

“I really don’t want to think about my shitty ex-foster brother,” I admitted to X.

“I could go down on you instead?”

I laughed. “I have to finish my shift. And anyway, I’m kinda still mad at you for what happened last night.”

He raised an eyebrow, the one that had a scar running through the middle of it. “You weren’t very mad when you were coming around my cock.”

I glared at him. “No, I meant more about you introducing yourself to people as the licker of my pussy.”

“Where’s the lie?”

“You don’t need to make that your whole personality, you know.”

“I respectfully disagree. Offer still stands to go down on you right now before you finish your shift…”

The thought was incredibly tempting. My insides clenched at the very thought of having him down on his knees, my leg over his shoulder, his tongue on my clit.

The fact I wouldn’t be thinking about Toby, or how I was going to pay my rent without him, or Travis walking back into my life at the shittiest time possible sounded appealing.

X was all smug bastard. “You totally want me.” He linked his hands behind his head and leaned back against the wall again.

“You’re already mentally planning our wedding, aren’t you?

Just you, me, Reginald, and Harold, on some sort of tropical beach somewhere warm…

we might have to plan it around Reggie flying south for the winter… ”

I pushed up onto my feet. “I like you distracting me. Nothing more. We aren’t getting married on an island with a wild duck and an ugly cat as our witnesses.”

He pouted at me. But disappointment never seemed to register with X for long. He just bounced from one thing straight into the next. “Fine. But I do want to take you somewhere. There’s no ducks or cats, so it won’t be as good as our wedding, but I think you’ll like it anyway.”

I moved past him to the sink and squirted soap into my hands. “Where?”

“I want you to meet my family.”

I jerked my head up so fast I was pretty sure I gave myself whiplash. “Your…family?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow night, if you’re free…”

X was a psychopath who had murdered a man right in front of me. And not just in a regular sort of gunshot-to-the-chest way. No, he’d stabbed him repetitively until there was blood and guts and who knew what else all in a pool at his feet.

I’d let myself forget that more than once, but never had that memory been clearer than when he was standing in front of me, asking me to come home with him to meet the parents who had raised such a monster.

I opened my mouth to make an excuse. I was washing my hair. Or walking the neighbor’s dog. Hell, I should have been packing a bag for Bermuda and getting the hell away from him.

He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, and then his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t hold my gaze and stared down at his feet.

I suddenly realized he was nervous.

And that was such an uncommon X characteristic that it stopped me dead, mid-refusal.

He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Please? I really want you to meet them.”

The look on his face was so ridiculously wholesome there was suddenly not one part of me that could refuse him.

And so I found myself saying, “I think I’d really like that.”