Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)(96)

“Do you wanna read it?” Sasha asks, her voice a little louder than it had been. “We can!”

“Hell yeah,” Melody says, standing up, holding the book, going pale when she realizes what she said. “Oops.”

“Can Melody read my book, Mommy?” Sasha asks, looking up at me as she tugs my hand. “Please?”

“Of course,” I say, gently pushing her toward Melody. “Go ahead, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

She must trust that, and she must really like Melody, because she grabs her hand and lets her take her into the living room without second-guessing it. I turn to Leo once they’re out of earshot, seeing him grinning as he watches his girlfriend.

“She’s great with kids,” Leo says.

“I see that. You going to give her one of her own soon?”

He laughs incredulously, turning toward me. “Not until we’re married.”

“Strong morals?”

“More like scary ass brother,” he says. “He’d whip my ass if I didn’t do it the right way.”

He probably would, I think.

“Speaking of your scary ass brother,” I say, glancing around, surprised he hasn’t appeared. “Where is he?”

Leo’s expression falls. “Library, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, he, uh...” Leo laces his hands together on top of his head. “He’s pissed off at the world, touchy... twitchy. It’s been pretty unbearable.”

I sigh.

I wish I could say I was surprised.

“He got home last night, and I don’t know... something seemed different,” Leo continues. “I know he’s dealing with a lot, with me moving out and with what happened with you, but he was just next-level whatever, talking about packing up and going back to Florida.”

My stomach drops. “Florida?”

“Yeah, he said he’s got work to do down there, but I don’t know... feels kind of like he’s running, which is very much not Lorenzo.”

Yeah, that’s not Lorenzo at all.

“So, the library, you said?”

I step by him, heading down the hallway.

“Uh, yeah, but he’s not really feeling... hospitable.”

The door is closed. I see that as I approach. Not a stitch of light filters out from the crack beneath it, which means if he’s in there, he’s just sitting in the darkness, all alone. I glance back at Leo, and it’s as if he can read my mind, because he gives me a small smile and points toward the living room, saying, “I’ll keep an eye on our girls.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, barely making a sound, before I turn to the closed library door and take a deep breath.

This time, out of respect, I knock.

There’s no sound inside, no footsteps or voices, not a peep at all, like he isn’t there.

I knock again.

Nothing.

A third knock is again met with silence, which tells me I could knock all night and he wouldn’t answer.

Knocking’s pointless.

So instead, I grab the knob and open the door.

He moves fast, reacting.

Right away, I hear a gun cock.

Within seconds, it’s aimed at my chest from across the room.

I don’t move, just standing in the doorway, staring at him. He’s sitting in his chair, glaring my way, his chest rising and falling harshly, nostrils flaring.

He’s furious.

Shadows cover him. I can barely make him out as darkness shrouds the house, night falling around us. He’s dressed in all black, blending into his surroundings. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and I don’t know if he’s been sleeping, because he looks every bit the scary ass brother.

But I’m not afraid of him.

“I knocked,” I say. “You didn’t answer.”

“And that didn’t tell you something?”

“It told me a lot.”

“Yet there you stand.”

“Would you rather I have went away?”

He says nothing.

He’s not going to answer that question.

After a minute or so passes, he lowers the gun. That’s all the answer I need from him. He’s not going to shoot me. If he were, he would’ve done it way back at the start.

Carefully, I push away from the door and stroll into the library, coming closer to him.

I notice right away that the table is turned over, puzzle pieces scattered all along the floor around him. Wordlessly, I grab the table, flipping it back onto its legs. It’s a pain in the ass, heavy, but I manage to get it upright again without any help—which is good, because he doesn’t look like he planned to offer any. I pick up the lamp next, plugging it back in before setting it on the end of the table.

As soon as I turn it on, Lorenzo dramatically winces.

I laugh at his reaction, perching on the end of the table near him as I look around. “What happened to your puzzle?”

“Adam’s dick disappeared.”

My brow furrows. “What?”

He runs his hands down his face, grumbling, “A piece was missing.”

“Oh.” I look at the mess, my chest tightening, not mentioning the fact that it probably got lost the night he fucked me on top of it. “That sucks.”