Deathtrap (Crossbreed Series Book 3)(54)

“Are you happy?” he asked.

I thought about it. “I’m getting there. It’s just hard not always knowing the right choices to make.”

He chuckled softly. “I know a little something about that.” He rested his fist against his cheek and just stared at me, and the twinkle in his eye gradually returned. In some parallel universe, we could have just been sitting there like father and daughter, sharing a cup of cocoa. Only no tragic past, no heartbreak. And for those few minutes, I tried to forget the truth.

We made small talk, and I caught up on the latest news with his buddies and how business was going at the shop. Crush owned a garage and had a good thing going. He said he’d socked away enough money to buy a house but decided he didn’t need all that space. The real shock was when he told me he’d been saving his money all those years ago for me—in case I wanted to go to college or if I ever got in a jam. But mostly because he wanted me to have an inheritance when he finally died—something that might be enough. It broke my heart. Even now that we were going our separate ways, I knew Crush would never spend that money on himself.

I didn’t have many funny stories to relay, but when I told him about the MoonPie truck, he laughed so hard that I joined in. I missed his laugh. Crush had a great rolling belly laugh that always sounded like he was going to piss himself. He didn’t really understand most of the story, like why I was riding on top of a car roof to begin with, but I think he got the gist of what I did for a living.

“Remember when I used to braid your hair?” he asked.

I smiled wistfully. “You were terrible.”

Crush scooted his chair all the way next to me and began to section off my hair to make two braids. I memorized the feel of his hands and that fatherly love.

“Does it have to be this way?” he asked. “Isn’t there a way I can stay in your life?”

I shook my head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Danger is my middle name.”

“Where did you bury me?”

His hands paused for a moment before he worked on the plaits. “Next to your mama. Have you been out there lately?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Maybe you should. I bet she’d like you to visit her sometime.”

I turned in my chair to let him work on the left side. “Do you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Sometimes we have to make tough choices. Like I said, there’s nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you. I wasn’t the best father, and you deserved to have a mom in your life. Maybe I should have settled down with someone so you’d have that softness a woman needs. But I did my best. I even bought you that damn rabbit.”

I smiled wistfully as he finished up the braid.

We sat for a quiet moment, having said most everything that needed to be said. I hadn’t realized until I glanced up at the clock that it was after midnight, and I dreaded our good-bye. “I have to go.”

He cradled my head and kissed me on the temple. “If you change your mind, I’m here. You got that? This doesn’t have to be final.”

I peered up at him. “Why aren’t you shocked by my fangs?”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit. You’re not a monster, Cookie.”

I barked out a laugh. “I’m the Cookie Monster.”

“It’s not funny. I’m dead serious. Don’t ever think that I could love you less. Maybe I can’t be there anymore to give you advice or help protect you, but you know my door is always open. Always. You look like you can take care of yourself now, but find someone you can trust and accept their help. You were always stubborn about wanting to do things on your own. You can’t live life alone. I have my friends, and we’re tight. We’re family. We’d bleed for each other. That’s what you need to find, even if I can’t be a part of it. But don’t think that’s me saying I’m okay with it. Fuck the rules, Raven. If you ever need to come back, we can pack our shit and move to Puerto Rico. You got that?”

I fell into his arms. “Thank you.”

Crush squeezed me so tight I didn’t think he’d ever let go, and I didn’t want him to. I scrunched his long hair in one hand and stared into the empty living room as our hug dissolved.

“I need to talk to your friend,” he said. “Tell him to get his ass in here.”

I nodded.

Crush gave me three quick kisses on the cheek. I used to hate it because his whiskers and goatee would tickle. All those stupid times I’d pushed him away.

I brushed my hand down his cheek and tugged on his goatee. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

He gave me a tight grin and flashed a silver tooth. “That’s my line.”

“Find an old lady, will ya? You shouldn’t be living out here alone, you old bulldog. Someone needs to make you pick up your dirty dishes and drag your ass to bed.”

“I’ll think about it, Cookie.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “I love you, little girl. With all the fire in my heart.”

After our final words, I collected my jewelry box and finally left my past behind.





Chapter 25





Christian stood by the door and watched Raven until she got inside the car. He didn’t need to ask what had happened; he’d heard it all. Every word, every gasp, every teardrop hitting the tile, and even the fluttering of her heart when her father told her good-bye.

Christian empathized. When he’d left Ireland centuries ago, he did so knowing he’d never see his sister and father again. It was a bold move leaving home and sailing across the ocean. His father had refused to go, arguing that he was too old for such adventures. In truth, Ireland was all he’d ever known. While leaving his father was difficult, it was especially trying on Christian to say good-bye to Cassie, his younger sister. She was just a wee lass at the time, but Christian had always held a soft spot for her. She was adventurous and loved her big brothers, but there was no way he could drag a blind girl across an ocean to an unknown, savage land. He still remembered the way she held on to him so tightly that he’d had to forcefully push her away. That was long ago, yet hearing Raven’s homecoming dredged up all those old memories.

He wanted to reach out and tell her it would get easier. But words were of little consolation, and black deeds often erased what little goodness remained in an immortal. Better she learn that for herself. He’d already complicated things enough with kissing her by the river. What they needed was more distance between them, but he found it increasingly impossible to do, and not just because of their partnership.

During the ambush back at the Bricks, Christian’s chest had constricted when she offered him her blood. That was a great honor among Vampires, and even though she’d done it so he could fight, it was by no measure a worthless offering. And hearing the soft whisper of her blood inside his veins made it even more impossible to keep his feelings neutral.

Seeing her fight those rogues had impressed him tremendously. The memory of her fangs gleaming white against her bloodstained lips stirred something deep within him. Raven looked like a comic book heroine—a svelte yet feminine body with midnight hair that came alive when she moved. She showed courage and tenacity when faced with an ambush, and that was something you were either born with or learned through years of experience. She wasn’t polished or of noble blood. She didn’t wear perfume, and half the time she brushed her hair with her fingers. There was a wildness in her that couldn’t be tamed—a woman who wasn’t sitting around waiting for anyone’s help. She was raw and uncut, and that called to his Vampire heart.

Christian leaned on the railing. Raven had lowered the vanity mirror and was wiping her smeared eyeliner with a tissue. He gripped the wooden handrail, keenly aware that her heart rate had slowed. The flush of scarlet on her cheeks was a teasing sight to a Vampire. While he didn’t know exactly how she felt about him, he sensed subtle changes in her body whenever he entered the room. Her pupils would dilate before she averted her gaze and pretended not to notice him. In a millisecond, he could block out all noise in a room except for the sound of her heart skipping a beat. He never should have encouraged those feelings. After all, what did he care? Christian was a man who fucked women with wild abandon, never bothering to ask for names afterward.

He despised himself for allowing the attraction to flourish. And on top of everything, she was the little girl from the fire.

Jaysus. In the past century, Christian had experienced a few moments of weakness in his Vampire life, and not one of them had ever yielded anything but regret. He brushed his hand over the sleeve of his coat, still remembering the searing pain from the burns.

“Get your ass in here,” Crush said from inside. “I know how you Vamps like the cold.”

Christian straightened his back like an arrow.

“I know you heard me,” Crush said quietly.

Dumbfounded, Christian swung open the door and entered the trailer. “And what exactly do you know about Vampires?”

Crush laughed and tied back his long hair. “Enough to know you don’t like being called Vamps. Why don’t you shut the door, and we’ll talk.” He stood up and headed to the fridge. “Want a drink?”