Page 25 of Moros

“Something smells good.” Pasha walked around him to rest a palm to the center of his back. “You’re wound up again, Moros. You need to breathe.”

He turned to look down into her face and I’d never seen him look at anyone with that softness. Even when he was seated across from me at the diner—all I’d seen in his eyes was worry.

But as he stared at Pasha, I could see she had some kind of power with him—not over him, but with him. She knew how to calm him, how to soothe whatever demons were roaming around inside his head.

Feeling as if I was intruding on a private moment, I slowly and quietly backed out of the room.

He was hers.

Why didn’t I see that before?

All the signs were there as plain as the nose on my face.

He trusted her—she was sexy, and fashionable and kick-ass and he was hers.

Of course, she was his.

Of-fucking-course!

“Moros?” Boswell called.

I wasn’t sure how long I was seated on the couch, curled up into a tight a ball as my belly would allow. I rolled to my back, stretched my legs out the length of the sofa and slowly exhaled.

My body inflated like one of those flailing plastic showcase things and I took a second to clear my head.

Sitting up, I wandered out to sit with the others, keeping my head down, eyes averted.

“What’s so urgent?” Boswell asked sipping from a glass of juice.

“One of the men from the restaurant is Torez Sloan.” Khadri explained.

“Shit.” Pasha muttered.

“What?” I asked.

“He’s supposed to be dead.” Boswell pointed out. “What the fuck is he doing attacking Ryanne’s place?”

“Who is Torez Sloan!” I slammed my palm into the table.

“Mercenary.” Pasha explained. “Phi, what the fuck is going on?”

“As in—” I swallowed. “They sell their services to the highest bidder? Who wants me dead?”

“No one.” Boswell replied. “And that’s the good news.”

“What? None of this makes sense.” I frowned at him. “You weren’t there tonight.”

“If they wanted you dead, you would be.” Khadri growled, his voice low. “And you wouldn’t have seen it coming.”

“Stop it, Phi!” Pasha smacked him. “You’re scaring her.”

“She should be scared!” Khadri spoke. “This is not a fucking joke.”

“I’m sitting right here.” I reminded him.

“Then let me ask you this.” He turned his chair to face me. “Is there something about your life that you’re not telling me?”

“What?” I was offended. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”