Page 22 of Merciless Angel
CASH
Waking up to the sound of an electric guitar at high volume immediately pissed me off. Blaze was begging for an ass kicking. My head throbbed with a killer hangover. I rolled over in bed, stacking a pillow over my head. It didn’t help.
I blindly groped about my side table until I felt my phone. With one bleary eye, I read the time. Almost noon. Damn, it felt earlier.
Shoving the blankets aside, I laid there for another five minutes before rolling out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom. My head ached. My mouth felt like garbage. A shower and a good teeth brushing helped a little. I needed caffeine. Loads of it.
After shoving my legs into a pair of gray sweats and dragging a t-shirt over my head, I crossed the hall to Blaze’s door. Without knocking, I kicked it open. The annoying guitar wail stopped as he glanced up to find me looming in the threshold.
“Hey, dude. Thought you were going to sleep all day. What’s up?” A tiny smirk crinkled his lips. Motherfucker knew exactly what he was doing.
I nodded to the guitar in his grasp. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use that thing to beat the shit out of you.”
“Settle down, bro. I waited until noon.” Blaze shrugged off my threat and went back to jamming.
I flipped him a middle finger and headed downstairs. Daire was in the living room, still sprawled on the couch where he’d passed out last night after we got home. He was awake, scrolling on his phone.
“I’m going on a coffee run,” I informed him. “Want anything?”
Daire pondered my question. “I’d kill for a quarter pounder. Extra-large fries. Need money?”
“No, I’m good. I’ll be back in twenty.” Grabbing my keys off the kitchen island, I scratched a hand through my short mohawk as I strode for the door. This felt like a good day to sit on my ass and do fuck all.
The inside of my Jaguar was hot as hell from the morning sun. I turned on the AC, breathing a sigh of relief when it began to cool down the inside of the SUV. I fucking hated summer. I’d rather be cold any day. Western Canada was known for its winters but our summers could still melt a bitch during a heat wave. I loved the snow and brisk air. It was much easier to warm up than to cool down.
Sliding on sunglasses to protect my sensitive eyes from the harsh rays of unwelcome daylight, I pulled out of the driveway and cruised down the street. My favorite coffee shop near the campus was relatively busy. The drive-thru lineup was stupidly long, so I parked and went inside instead.
The line inside was only about six people long. Right away my gaze fell upon the cute blonde near the front of the line. I sidled up to Clover, ignoring the glares and frowns from those who thought I was cutting the line. She glanced up at me in surprise.
Her hair was pulled back in a clip and she wore sunglasses. She was dressed casually in leggings and a long t-shirt with a rainbow colored cat on the front. My gaze immediately went to the cut on her swollen bottom lip.
“Hey there, Sunshine. Are you as hungover as I am?” Noticing the way she stiffened, I did my best to play it cool.
I was a big guy covered in ink. I had a tendency to intimidate without even trying. Although I liked that I scared her, I wanted her to let down her guard enough to tell me what happened to her lip.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so. I didn’t sleep well last night.” Clover fumbled with the debit card she clutched in one hand, almost dropping it.
Aware that those in the line could hear us, I said, “Pretty wild party last night. I woke up to Blaze playing his stupid fucking guitar at max volume. I swear he does that shit just to piss me off.”
Clover forced a tight smile which was followed by a wince. Someone had hurt our girl.
She stepped up to place her order with me right beside her. I gave my order too, waving her off when she tried to pay. Handing over my credit card, I studied her closely. No doubt she hid a shiner under those sunglasses.
“Thanks,” she said when we headed for the door with our coffees. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
I waited until we were in the parking lot to grab her arm and pull her to a stop. “You’re not getting away that easily. Tell me what happened. Who hurt you?”
Clover’s hand strayed to her lip. “Oh this? It’s nothing. I was drunk and slipped.”
Pulling off her sunglasses, I frowned at the purple bruise surrounding her eye. “Slipped, huh? Why are you trying to protect him?”
Lower lip quivering, Clover cast her gaze down at her feet. “I don’t want you guys to hurt him.”
“Why the fuck not?” My voice rose, making her jump. “Someone needs to hurt him. Tell me where to find him. It’s time that we have a little talk with Zane about touching what’s ours.”
Clover hesitated too long before saying, “He’s probably staying with his parents for the summer. They live on Woodward Avenue. House number 417 I think.”
I chucked her lightly under the chin. As the rage took over, my hangover became background noise. Energy rushed through me at the thought of beating Zane until he begged for death.