Chapter One Hundred Seventy–Six.

DELILAH

Rushing past the two or three people waiting for a table and ignoring the glare of some twenty pound hostess, I head straight for the booth by the corner window. As I get closer, my steps falter. It’s Charlie alright, but he doesn’t look nearly as excited as he did this morning. In fact, he looks downright gloomy. He’s seated behind a steaming mug of coffee and damn near crying into the cup. And where In the holy hell is Cane? The two of them only ever separate to take a plus.

What if those old fuckers hurt him? What if Came can’t be here because het……..

Stop it Del, stop it. You would feel it if he were dead. At least, I hope I woahl

“Charlie?” I say, sliding into the other side of the booth just before the hostess taps me on the shoulder.

Charlie’s soil brown eyes lift toward me and for a moment, it’s almost as if he doesn’t recognize me. His clothing is rumpled and there are a couple of fresh bruises just under his chin, telling me that I was right to worry about them. I can’t stop the pasp that rushes forth, nor the yelp of fear that escapes when it does.

“D” Charlie exclaims, coming to life. He jerks forward slightly, coffee slashing out of his mug and onto the table. “H–how are you here? W we left you–h–how-

“A friend,” I reply, a touch guiltily.

“A friend?” Charlie inquires quizzically. His eyebrows come together in disbelief and he scowls. “Since when do you have those?”

Despite my mounting fear for Cane, I release a short giggle. He’s not wrong. “Since my brother and his dumb–dumb best friend left me to fend for myself in a pile of firewood.”

Charlle frowns, his eyes moistening. “I’m so sorry about that D. We shouldn’t have,” he whimpers, lifting the unspilled coffee to his lips and taking a loud sip.

As I watch him, I notice his hands are shaking, and when his shirt rides back over his wrist, I see red ligature marks cuffing his flesh. The blazing trepidation I was working to keep at a simmer suddenly bails over and my body begins to buzz with dread.

“Charlie,” I hissed, reaching forward impulsively to take his hand in mine. “What the fuck happened to you two?”

underside of his carpal bone.

He tries to snatch his hand back, but I squeeze my grip tight, my eyes focusing on the tattered skin on the un “H–hey! L–leggo, he mumbles, but I don’t and he snorts his displeasure like a five year old child.

“Where’s Cane?” I snap and Charlie’s face crumples into a mask of betrayal. Oh shit. Something is definitely up.

“He’s with them,” Charlie spews bitterly.

“What do you mean, he is with them? You mean they won’t let him go? ts he hurt? Did you see them hurt him? What-”

…..with… them,” he clarifies slowly, his

“He’s not hurt!” Charlie explodes furiously, spittle flying out of his mouth as his chin quivers. “He’s…” eyes going wet again.

father

completely exclusive group. They hardly ever initiate new my members. You either have to be nominated by a one of their inner circle, or be a legacy applicant – which Cane would’ve been if had nominated him before he died. Being as Cane grew up in that place alongside the other sons, they must have decided to

I say sympathetically, taking Charlie’s hands

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Hundred Seventy filz

pale face blessing will redan fights the pain of his

my Tempe hot when I get a hold of your “Yer

Comet Igng treat

steps up to the hedh per tapping on her

than offer? Hur mise su red this talde and this gory s been

snaps her way. “We might, we might not I art

her. He’s only been taking up this table because her was waiting for me.

then, a po go order something or are you both going

hatch. “It might help if your fat ass got us some mentis,” I informed her.

mouths falling open in temporary shock before the

it,” I quip loudly,

petty and mean. I am the only due allowed to insult them. Nobody che. Because I’m the only one who knows their fucking stupidity is a congenital defect that the doctors neglected to treat

hit, a small smile turning his lips

me, “You shouldn’t be so mean to her, D.”

why the fuck not? She’s

also the one who

Doublemint Twins

returns, she’s toting two menus and a suspicious, way too bubbly, glass of water. My eyes narrow on the cup as she places it in front of me, studying it apprehensively before acknowledging that she spat in my shit. Giving her the evil

silent accusation with a chortle of barely contained laughter, she smirks,

yeah. She did

suddenly remember who I left outside. “Wait!” I call out and…

What? sh

snaps, all pretense of civility le

last.

should be joining us

on

Glancing

Quinn is parked, holding my breath as a small group of people walk past the windows, blocking my view. Once the sidewalk clears, my

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One Hundred Seventy Gir

Systomy my myste

canvas followed me inside, I should w known. I completely cliched him and so he must have decided to completely ditch me. Or,

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