Goddess of Pain - Katie May Page 0,46
the foundation of our love has been built on a landscape of lies and deceit.
“Hey, stupid,” I reply back, pulling away just in time to see his smile disappear. It’s replaced by a scowl that instantly has me on edge.
“Who the fuck are they?” he demands, grabbing my wrist and all but dragging me behind him. Helio narrows his eyes at Colton’s hand around my wrist, nostrils flaring as he struggles to maintain control of his temper.
“Hey, man!” Avery breaks through the throng of men with a cheery smile. It’s one he perfected, one designed to instantly put people at ease. I wonder if it’s the same smile he uses just before he kills someone.
That thought twists my insides into dozens of intricate, tight knots.
“Avery,” Colton says stiffly, never peeling his eyes away from the newcomers.
“What’s taking you assholes so long?” Ray calls from the kitchen. He appears around the corner, wiping his hands on a dish towel. Henry is only a step behind him, his eyes narrowed curiously. Both of my brothers freeze when they spot my mates, and Ray immediately moves to stand beside his twin. “Who are they?”
“They’re my—” I begin, but a grinning Sin cuts me off before I can finish.
“Husbands,” he announces proudly, and Tate’s lips twitch from the other side of him. Desmond throws his head back in laughter and clasps Sin on the shoulder.
“Fuck, man.” He brushes away the stray tears cascading down his eyes. “Have a little tact.”
“You put a tack in the wall to hold things up,” Sin deadpans as he removes a cigarette from his jacket pocket. “I suppose we can consider my cock a—”
“He’s joking!” I interrupt, voice nearing a screech. “They’re just some of Avery’s friends.”
Sin’s expression turns positively murderous, as if he’s peeved that I didn’t accept his proposal of marriage, and he practically shoves the cigarette into his mouth with a disgruntled huff.
“Guys, this is Colton, Ray, and Henry,” I introduce, pointing to each man in turn.
“Hi, I’m Desmond!” He swaggers forward with his hand extended. “God of Combat.”
For the love of…
When he catches my incredulous stare, Desmond merely winks, a shit-eating grin pasted firmly in place. He knows exactly what he's doing, and he’s reveling in the chaos his words create. Sometimes, I wonder if he was misclassified. He should’ve been labeled the God of Mayhem—he’s a beautiful tornado rushing through a house, destroying everything in its wake. You can’t help but stare up at the swirling storm of dirt, wondering if this is it. If this is the moment you lose yourself to the winds.
“The big, ugly bastard over there is Helio.” Desmond points to the man in question, who merely grunts, folding his meaty arms over his chest. Unlike the others, his dark beard is in desperate need of a trim, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like against my thighs. Totally inappropriate time to think about that, considering my brothers are less than a foot away from me, regarding my mates with barely veiled disdain. “He’s the God of Karma.”
“Des,” I warn in a low, dangerous voice. I won’t hesitate to take my trusty baseball bat and destroy his nuts. I rather like his nuts, for your information, but I’ll break them all if he doesn’t shut the fuck up.
“I’m Arsin,” the God of Flames says with a bright smile. He extends the hand now holding his still lit cigarette. “I like setting things on fire. But that wasn’t what I got arrested for. Apparently, you need to be more careful in this realm not to leave trace evidence of your bomb when you kill someone.” He chuckles giddily, as if the memory is immensely amusing. “Who knew?”
I swear my brothers are seconds away from going into cardiac arrest. If my boyfriends give my brothers heart attacks, I’ll never forgive them.
“I’m Tate.” The last man shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and rocks on his heels. When he catches my stare, he glares, baring his teeth like a feral animal. Asshole.
“So, what’s for dinner?” Sin continues, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I smell tacos.”
It’s not, in fact, tacos that my brothers have prepared.
How Sin confuses homemade pizzas with tacos is beyond me, but soon, we find ourselves settling around the large dining room table. It had only been set for five, and a very reluctant and grumbling Ray was forced to grab extra chairs from the garage. It’s a tight squeeze,