Page 65 of Villainous Intent

“It’s self-care,” Dawn shot back without missing a beat. “Which you desperately need. Hunter’s having a party at his place. Thomas will most likely be there.”

“Absolutely not,” I said, quickly.

“Why not?” Dawn stepped closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He wants you, Annie. I saw how he looked at you. Like he wanted to eat you alive.” She grinned and leaned forward, pretending to bite at me. “He’s hot, and you need to get fucked.”

My face burned. I could feel the gaze from the empty air. I could feel it sliding over my skin as Dawn discussed his alter ego’s hunger.

“Dawn—”

“Don’t ‘Dawn’ me. When was the last time you got fucked? Years?” She poked my shoulder, oblivious to the predator listening to every word. “You’re drying up, Annie. Let the pretty, rich guy fix it. Even if Thomas isn’t there, Finley’s supposed to show up and you know he wants to fuck you.”

“Dawn,” I groaned.

“Fucking is self-care too, Annie.” She poked my shoulder harder. “Rest. Tonight we fuck. Doctor’s orders.”

“Your doctorate is in history,” I muttered.

“Still. I’m your best friend, Annie.” She paused at the door. “And best friends don’t let each other go years without getting laid.”

She left and I waited until I heard the front door click shut before I sank down onto the bed, head throbbing with each heartbeat. The blood-soaked towel was starting to stick to my forehead, and I winced as I peeled it away to check if the bleeding had slowed.

“Jesus, Bishop, years?” Cipher materialized from thin air, leaning against my dresser.

“Get out,” I snapped.

“Did you really try to headbutt me?” He shook his head, pushing off the dresser. “I love the fire, Annie. Truly. But damaging yourself to keep a secret from me?”

He crossed the room, crowding my personal space again. He reached for the towel, and when I batted his hand away, he caught my wrist.

“Stop,” he commanded.

He pulled my hand away, inspecting the gash on my forehead. His jaw locked, silver eyes burning.

“You’d crack your own skull to protect that cuff? You’d mar your skin just to keep me out?” Cipher looked furious.

“Yes,” I spat.

Despite looking angry, his fingers gently probed the edges of the cut. “This is deep. What were you thinking, head-butting a Super?”

“I was thinking I didn’t want you to break my cuff, you ass,” I muttered.

His eyes met mine, searching. “Why is this cuff so important to you? And don’t give me that bullshit about Havoc’s systems.”

I looked away. “It just is.”

Cipher’s hand moved to my chin, tilting my face back toward him. “You’re terrified of losing it. Why?”

“None of your business,” I said, trying to pull away.

His grip tightened slightly. “It became my business when you bled for it.”

The tears came hot and fast, spilling down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop them, couldn’t even slow them down as the entire morning came to a head.

Cipher froze, his hand still on my chin as his eyes flicked over my face.

“I—” he started, then stopped. His hand dropped away. “Are you crying?”

I tried to wipe the tears away, but they just kept coming. “What does it look like?”