Better When He's Brave
Page 3
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Some men wanted to watch the world burn. Titus was a man that wanted to put out all the flames single-handedly from inside the blaze. He was the only one I trusted with the information I was holding on to. He was the only one I trusted to help me find a safe place to land after I kicked the new me to the curb and dusted the old me off and put back on her damaged and tattered skin. Lord only knew how long I would last now that I was back, but I knew if I had Titus on my side I would stand a better chance of making it to the finale, to the end, to the place I needed to be in order to right one wrong. One of so many in this hellhole.
The Point was going to war and I was about to become the advantage that the good guys were going to need if they wanted any chance of being able to hold their own.
The young cop asked me my name and when I muttered “Reeve Black” I saw the way his eyes went from appreciating the fall of my long black hair and the way my T-shirt hung against curves that were more dangerous than he would ever know, to speculative and almost disgusted. I had a reputation and it wasn’t a good one. Even in this place full of bad people doing bad things, there was still room for the worst of the worst. I was the worst and I never pretended to be anything else.
The cop picked up the phone and spoke softly. I heard him say my name more than once and then shake his head. I really, really wasn’t supposed to be here, and I knew Titus was going to be anything but happy to see me. He didn’t need to be happy, he just needed to hear what I had to say and agree to help me help him.
I pushed some of my hair back behind my ear and willed my hands to stop quivering. This wasn’t a time to betray weakness. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was afraid for him.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a door that had his name and title scrawled across it in peeling black vinyl letters swing open. I felt my heart quiver a little bit, felt my tummy pull tight as his dark head poked out of the opening. Even across the distance and through all the barriers keeping us apart, I could feel the impact of his outrageously blue eyes and the fury captured inside them as they landed on me.
Yep . . . not happy to see me at all.
He stormed out of the office, eyes locked on me as he made his way to where I was standing, separated from the rest of the police precinct and the officers milling about, some in uniform some out. Titus never wore police blues. At least he hadn’t any of the times I had seen him. No, Titus dressed like a man that had a job to do and that the job was wearing him down and slowly and surely eating away at his soul.
As he stalked toward me I could see the way the knot in his tie hung loose at his throat. I could see the way his rolled-up sleeves tightened on his forearms as his hands clenched into angry fists at the sight of me. I could see the way his dark slacks had wrinkled from whatever bad thing or bad guy he had spent the day trying to set right. When he finally reached me I couldn’t stop staring at him. I ended my perusal at the tips of his worn and scuffed-up black boots as he stopped so that he could loom over me. There would never be polished wing tips for a man like Titus King. There would never be pristine tennis shoes used for recreational sports. Nope, Titus would always be a man that needed shoes that could get the job done and handle the muck and mire that he had to wade through every waking hour while he tried to keep some kind of order.
I gulped and fought to keep myself from falling back a step. Titus was a big man and really tall, so it was easy to want to cower under his burning glare, but if I did that I would show him how scared I was and I couldn’t afford to start this conversation out that way.
Instead I batted my eyelashes slowly, let out a deep breath that I knew would force him to have to watch the rise and fall of my chest, and kicked the side of my very carefully painted mouth up in a grin that had made more than one man do anything I ever asked of them.
“Detective King.” I liked his name even with that title in front of it. He could be the ruler of some ancient barbaric land where only the strong survived.
“What in the fuck?” It was a question and a statement shouted loud enough to draw the attention of both the police and the criminals wandering around the building.
An ironlike hold clamped on my elbow and I was unceremoniously dragged past all the bars and barriers, past the other cops sitting at their desks, past a captivated audience that couldn’t help but speculate what kind of bug had gotten up the big detective’s ass. Titus was not a man prone to big displays of extreme emotion. He was much more a man of action, so the glower on his harshly handsome face and the force with which he maneuvered me around his coworkers and the riffraff that littered the police station did not go unnoticed. He was beyond pissed at my sudden appearance and doing nothing to hide it.
When we were back at his office he shoved me inside like I was one of his perps and slammed the door behind us with far more force than necessary. I knew the Point was on the verge of burning, but nothing would ever be as hot or as out of control as the wild fury I saw sparking in the depths of Titus’s sky-colored eyes. He was pissed like I knew he was going to be, but more than that he was concerned, and I think that made him even angrier. No one wanted to worry about a girl like me. I was supposed to get whatever nasty shit landed at my doorstep. I deserved it. That was how karma was supposed to work, but Titus was hardwired to care, even if the other person didn’t earn it or necessarily want it, and that had to make him crazy.
I studied him for a long minute, eyes locked on a muscle that twitched in his rock-hard jawline. He was so beautiful. I had thought so the first second I laid eyes on him when I initially went to him to pour out my heart and seek some kind of redemption. He was everything a man should be. Everything a warrior needed to be to make it in this wasteland, fighting for things that had long been lost. Sometimes it felt like I was torn between lust and worship where he was concerned.
He was built like an impenetrable bastion. So tall and wide it seemed like nothing would ever be able to break its way inside of him. His body was hard—from the expression on his face to the muscles that flexed and coiled when he did something as simple as lean back on the edge of his desk. His hair was cropped short on the sides and left longer on top; it was almost the same inky black as my own, but at his temple on one side was a startling and shocking snow-white spot. It was a constant reminder of the night the new me had been born and he had watched his younger brother put a gun to his own head and threaten to end it all. Titus also had raven-dark brows and a sexy, dark scruff that slashed across a tawny complexion that had nothing to do with being in the sun.
The Point was going to war and I was about to become the advantage that the good guys were going to need if they wanted any chance of being able to hold their own.
The young cop asked me my name and when I muttered “Reeve Black” I saw the way his eyes went from appreciating the fall of my long black hair and the way my T-shirt hung against curves that were more dangerous than he would ever know, to speculative and almost disgusted. I had a reputation and it wasn’t a good one. Even in this place full of bad people doing bad things, there was still room for the worst of the worst. I was the worst and I never pretended to be anything else.
The cop picked up the phone and spoke softly. I heard him say my name more than once and then shake his head. I really, really wasn’t supposed to be here, and I knew Titus was going to be anything but happy to see me. He didn’t need to be happy, he just needed to hear what I had to say and agree to help me help him.
I pushed some of my hair back behind my ear and willed my hands to stop quivering. This wasn’t a time to betray weakness. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was afraid for him.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a door that had his name and title scrawled across it in peeling black vinyl letters swing open. I felt my heart quiver a little bit, felt my tummy pull tight as his dark head poked out of the opening. Even across the distance and through all the barriers keeping us apart, I could feel the impact of his outrageously blue eyes and the fury captured inside them as they landed on me.
Yep . . . not happy to see me at all.
He stormed out of the office, eyes locked on me as he made his way to where I was standing, separated from the rest of the police precinct and the officers milling about, some in uniform some out. Titus never wore police blues. At least he hadn’t any of the times I had seen him. No, Titus dressed like a man that had a job to do and that the job was wearing him down and slowly and surely eating away at his soul.
As he stalked toward me I could see the way the knot in his tie hung loose at his throat. I could see the way his rolled-up sleeves tightened on his forearms as his hands clenched into angry fists at the sight of me. I could see the way his dark slacks had wrinkled from whatever bad thing or bad guy he had spent the day trying to set right. When he finally reached me I couldn’t stop staring at him. I ended my perusal at the tips of his worn and scuffed-up black boots as he stopped so that he could loom over me. There would never be polished wing tips for a man like Titus King. There would never be pristine tennis shoes used for recreational sports. Nope, Titus would always be a man that needed shoes that could get the job done and handle the muck and mire that he had to wade through every waking hour while he tried to keep some kind of order.
I gulped and fought to keep myself from falling back a step. Titus was a big man and really tall, so it was easy to want to cower under his burning glare, but if I did that I would show him how scared I was and I couldn’t afford to start this conversation out that way.
Instead I batted my eyelashes slowly, let out a deep breath that I knew would force him to have to watch the rise and fall of my chest, and kicked the side of my very carefully painted mouth up in a grin that had made more than one man do anything I ever asked of them.
“Detective King.” I liked his name even with that title in front of it. He could be the ruler of some ancient barbaric land where only the strong survived.
“What in the fuck?” It was a question and a statement shouted loud enough to draw the attention of both the police and the criminals wandering around the building.
An ironlike hold clamped on my elbow and I was unceremoniously dragged past all the bars and barriers, past the other cops sitting at their desks, past a captivated audience that couldn’t help but speculate what kind of bug had gotten up the big detective’s ass. Titus was not a man prone to big displays of extreme emotion. He was much more a man of action, so the glower on his harshly handsome face and the force with which he maneuvered me around his coworkers and the riffraff that littered the police station did not go unnoticed. He was beyond pissed at my sudden appearance and doing nothing to hide it.
When we were back at his office he shoved me inside like I was one of his perps and slammed the door behind us with far more force than necessary. I knew the Point was on the verge of burning, but nothing would ever be as hot or as out of control as the wild fury I saw sparking in the depths of Titus’s sky-colored eyes. He was pissed like I knew he was going to be, but more than that he was concerned, and I think that made him even angrier. No one wanted to worry about a girl like me. I was supposed to get whatever nasty shit landed at my doorstep. I deserved it. That was how karma was supposed to work, but Titus was hardwired to care, even if the other person didn’t earn it or necessarily want it, and that had to make him crazy.
I studied him for a long minute, eyes locked on a muscle that twitched in his rock-hard jawline. He was so beautiful. I had thought so the first second I laid eyes on him when I initially went to him to pour out my heart and seek some kind of redemption. He was everything a man should be. Everything a warrior needed to be to make it in this wasteland, fighting for things that had long been lost. Sometimes it felt like I was torn between lust and worship where he was concerned.
He was built like an impenetrable bastion. So tall and wide it seemed like nothing would ever be able to break its way inside of him. His body was hard—from the expression on his face to the muscles that flexed and coiled when he did something as simple as lean back on the edge of his desk. His hair was cropped short on the sides and left longer on top; it was almost the same inky black as my own, but at his temple on one side was a startling and shocking snow-white spot. It was a constant reminder of the night the new me had been born and he had watched his younger brother put a gun to his own head and threaten to end it all. Titus also had raven-dark brows and a sexy, dark scruff that slashed across a tawny complexion that had nothing to do with being in the sun.
