Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(2)

“Open the door before I piss on it!” Shepherd took a hard drag from his cigarette, the way a man does when he’s about to take action.

I stepped back before he cleaved apart the door with his bare hands. Christian could have easily broken in, but he abstained from destroying property around the mansion. Apparently before my joining Keystone, there had been some anger-management issues. Viktor had grown tired of not only the repairs but also the lack of respect for his property.

With the cigarette still dangling from his thin lips, Shepherd folded his arms and stared daggers at the door. “I should have installed a cheap lock on the knob. I can’t even pick the damn thing. Fucking bolt.”

Which suddenly clicked. When the door quietly swung inward, we remained cemented in place like statues in a museum as Wyatt slowly backed away to grant us entrance.

Shepherd squinted as he swaggered inside. “If I so much as see used tissues in the trash or a bottle of lotion, I swear to—” He paused halfway inside the room. “What the hell is that?”

Christian and I stepped around him. Straight ahead against the opposite wall sat a large, rectangular object with a black cloth draped over it. Whatever it was, it was taller than Wyatt’s five-eleven stature and twice as wide.

Wyatt sat on the edge of his desk, which ran alongside the right-hand wall. Computer monitors, keyboards, laptops, and stress toys littered the computer geek’s workspace. Using the sweat from his brow, he slicked back his wavy clumps of hair, which stuck out in every direction. Empty cardboard boxes littered the floor by the sofa, most of them folded flat. On the desk, I noticed a bottle of blue window cleaner and a rag.

Christian eased into an office chair and crossed his legs. He gave Wyatt an “I told you so” look that piqued my curiosity.

The familiar sound of Gem’s roller skates were fast approaching from the outside hallway. Seconds later, she whooshed inside the room and skidded to a stop. “Jiminy Christmas! What’s under there, a time machine?”

Niko appeared beside me like a ninja. “What am I supposed to be marveling over?”

Shepherd widened his stance and blew out a cloud of smoke. “Wyatt’s first computer.”

Gem giggled, her hair wound up in two cute buns. “Maybe it’s a washer so he can do his own laundry.”

Unfazed by the ribbing, Wyatt tapped his black cowboy boot against the concealed object. “Ladies and gents, what we have here is a state-of-the-art wonder of the modern world.” He stood up, giving us a showman’s speech. “I’ve gathered you here today to unveil my source of infinite joy.”

“A giant french fry machine?” I grinned.

Christian pulled the lollipop from his mouth. “Pray for a coffin. He’s going to need one after his speech is over.”

Wyatt hitched up his jeans, thumbs tucked in the waistband. “You might ask yourselves… what compelled me to make such an extravagant purchase? Well, my days of traipsing downstairs and back up again have come to an end. I’m also fed up with people taking what’s mine—don’t think I haven’t noticed when things go missing from my drawers.”

Shepherd shifted his stance. “If you don’t get on with it, I’m going to pull that cloth off myself and wrap you in it before we take a short drive to the mortuary.”

Ignoring him, Wyatt gripped the edge of the black fabric, his olive-green eyes twinkling like a child’s on Christmas morning. “Brace yourselves, for your lives will never be the same again.”

In a quick motion, he snapped his arm away and unveiled a giant vending machine.

Gem rolled up to it and gaped at all the goodies. Chocolate cookies, flavored chips, candy, donuts, and even corn nuts.

I arched a brow. “This is what you spent your paycheck on?”

Wyatt scooted onto the edge of his desk and rubbed a red mark on his arm. “I’m in here working after midnight, and there’s nothing worse than getting the munchies only to find out that someone swiped my last box of Raisinets.”

“Horseshit,” Shepherd grumbled. “No one’s stopping you from putting a lock on that drawer.”

“Hey, I’ve got no problem sharing. But no one even asks. When I was a boy, you got licks for stealing food.”

Gem turned a sharp eye on him. “Why are the donuts ten dollars?”

“Elementary, dear Watson. Reimbursement.”

Niko barked out a laugh. “It appears Wyatt’s World is officially open for business.”

“Nothing wrong with a little initiative,” Wyatt said defensively. “Viktor doesn’t budget his money for the good stuff. I’m the one who pays for all the snacks in here, so you’re dipping into my paycheck every time you pilfer a bag of chips. I’ve inflated the prices temporarily to recoup my losses. After that, I’ll consider a price reduction.”

Gem slowly rolled away from the machine. “You’re a greedy little man. No one’s going to pay five dollars for a candy bar.”

He gave her a megawatt smile. “You say that now, but when midnight rolls around and your tummy’s growling, where are you going to turn when you find my drawers are empty? Everyone has a price.”

“Alas, I’m watching my girlish figure,” she retorted.

That made me chuckle. Gem was petite—not an ounce of fat on her body.