Page 74 of They Call Me Wicked

I’ve never seen the man interested in anything but work, never noticing the way all the females at the office seem to fall over for him, bending and flirting. He’s never cared. Not until Wicked. He and I were working at the office long before she came around, and I was quite comfortable with the fact that he never let anything get in the way of his job.

We worked well together.

I know I draw the attention of women as well, but I’m definitely more of an asshole than him. I put off an unapproachable vibe, so no one ever draped themselves over me like they do him, they didn’t bother. And I prefer it that way.

But I saw the way his eyes sparked with interest when the chief announced her consultant position to the office. I saw every single thing he did from there on out, even if she didn’t. From switching out the salt and sugar for her when she was fixing her coffee–making sure she got the right thing–to subtly shifting her chair straight as she went to sit down, knowing she would fall on her ass if it was crooked.

I thought for a moment that maybe he was just being nice to the poor blind girl, but it kept going.

He would refill her snack drawer when she was getting low. Bring extra pairs of sunglasses for when she inevitably broke hers while traipsing around the office, then ever so smoothly switching them out on the ground as she was reaching to find them. He holds her door. Heaccidentallybrings extra of her favorite food for lunch and offers it to her. He learned fucking braille and started helping that Andy chick translate her cases for her. Hell, he even stood silently by and mean mugged every slimy motherfucker who tried to hit on her, going so far to straight deck a guy who wouldn’t back off her in the break room.

Not that she knew, of course.

The man is obsessed. He’d do anything for her. Yet, he’s never said a word.

After she came…we stopped working together nearly as much. He did his job impeccably all the same, but I couldn’t stand seeing the devotion in his gaze every time she walked into the room. I couldn’t take it when every time I opened my mouth to bitch her out or set her straight, he was right there standing behind her, almost begging me to take it too far.

He stayed in the shadows–inhershadow–always lurking, always being the first to come to her aide. He became her guardian angel, always there, yet never seen. By her anyways…he’s pretty hard to miss to everyone else.

“That’s smart. Thank you, Brick.” Wicked’s lips pull up widely in his direction, her million watt smile causing my chest to do weird things. The beating muscle inside almost seems to hesitate, taken off guard in a way, frozen in place.

My heart just literally skipped a beat.

Ezra’s eyes soften at her words, his eyes almost physically stroking over her features as he freezes in place.

Gizmo’s tail whips into my face–or Snitch’s, who fucking knows–and I glare down at the furry little shit. He did that intentionally. His black, beady eyes shining with mirth as he stares me down. I bare my teeth like an animal, my eyes tightening into a razor sharp glare, which is far better than my instinctual reaction to just stick my tongue out at him like a child.

It’s not like I can do much else to the little shit. Wicked would have my balls–not that she doesn’t already–but she would quite literally crush them in her fist if I even thought about harming herbabies.

Kai chuckles as the raccoon stands on his hind legs, his little arms cocking back as if he’s preparing to fight it out and I turn my glare on him. It doesn’t even phase him.

Fucking Kai.

Of course the bastard would be the first one to weasel his way into Izabella’s bed. The cocksure little shit had no problem pursuing her from the moment he transferred to our office. Hell, I’m pretty sure he transferred herebecauseof her. Or, at the start, because of her work. It only added to his interest when he met her and his gaze couldn’t stop eyefucking her on the spot.

Sure, he flirts with all the fucking women, but I’m pretty sure it’s just a game to him. A bit of fun to pass the time or to get what he wants. I’ve never been able to confirm him actually fucking anyone. Many claim they have–going so far to spout rumors about him cold-shouldering them the morning after–but for some reason or another, I don’t believe them.

Maybe it’s because as much as he flirts and eggs them on, as soon as they physically touch him, he flinches. Maybe it’s in the way his eyes tighten and grow cold as soon as they take the innocent flirtation too far. Maybe it’s because when a girl won’t stop pursuing him, he simply files the paperwork for a restraining order. Or maybe it has something to do with the scars covering his body. Each one brutal and deep. A testament to a darkness unknown.

I don’t know what his history is, though I can admit I’m curious. But for some fucking reason, Wicked is the only one he allows to touch him. Wicked is the only one he seems to truly open up to. It’s always fucking Wicked.

I can’t decide if it’s because she’s blind and can’t see his disfigurement, or if it’s because she has her own scars and he knows she’d never pity him for his.

It’s almost like a match made in Heaven between those two.

So where does that leave me?

Kai needs her. She needs Ezra. And I…I just piss her off.

But I can’t fucking help it. She frustrates me, she challenges me, and she never fucking listens. She does the most obnoxiously dangerous things, and I’m not just talking about exposing everyone’s secrets as if no one has hidden violent tendencies. I’m talking about her inability to take her safety seriously.

She runs straight toward the danger, uses herself as bait, and does ridiculous things to lure the criminals out. I get it in a sense, she finishes the job, no matter the cost. She’s dedicated to it. But does she have to fucking endanger herself to do so? Send in someone else! Someone who can actually handle themselves.

And don’t even get me started on her fucking mouth. Every time she opens it, I want to shove my cock in it to get her to shut up. She’s abrasive and rude, has absolutely no respect for boundaries or privacy, she says whatever the fuck she wants, when she wants, and damn the fucking consequences.

She’s going to get herself killed.

As infuriating as it is, I can’t seem to not give a damn. It enrages me. Why the hell do I have to be infatuated with the one woman in the entire fucking world who will never let me have peace? I can’t stand the thought of her getting hurt, yet she’ll walk straight through a shootout and start spouting off everyone’s secrets. I have to constantly be on the lookout, forever worried, and I’ll never be able to relax.