down. Could she see the surprise on my face and the tight pull of tension that I hadn’t let go of yet?
She hadn’t been the least bit disturbed at the sight of Khane’s eye. It wasn’t a horrific sight, but the color mismatch was highly noticeable and telling that he was nearly blind in that eye.
“I’m ready when you are,” Mecca stated before she strutted across the floor with those tight jeans and extra-high heels on, knowing my eyes would be on her ass. She had discovered at our wedding that I was an ass man when she caught me several times eyeballing hers.
We were finally getting around to signing more of our legal paperwork and bank documents. We probably could have done it apart, but I was starting to think Mecca was a work-a-holic that wasn’t going to take a break unless she was forced to do so.
Once she was out of earshot, I shot Khane a pointed expression.
“What the fuck was that?”
“What the fuck was what?” he questioned, not at all disturbed by what I had just witnessed.
“She touched your face. Talked about your eye. And you didn’t bite her hand off, didn’t curse her out, and didn’t even snatch your face away.”
I scratched my head because Khane was particular about who he allowed to touch him. Aside from Desiree, Mecca was the only person I had witnessed touching him that way.
“The only person whose opinion I care about is at home, probably burning down my kitchen trying to figure out how to cook me a meal. She accepted me this way, so I don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks or says.”
“What kind of fucking spells do these Evans women have on us?” I asked the question more to myself than to Khane as my gaze cast in the direction Mecca had walked.
“Last I checked, I was the one they called ‘the Kannibal,’” Khane stated, a hint of laughter in his tone.
My focus fell back on him.
“What do you mean?”
My attempt to decipher his statement had my brows bunching.
“You look at her like you want to eat her, bones and all.”
The imagery his words conjured caused me to frown, but I considered them. I had always watched Mecca, even in the beginning. I suppose I was not as inconspicuous with it as I assumed, or was there more to my admiring eyes where it concerned my wife?
“She’s different and accustomed to this edgy lifestyle, fearless in a way that scares the fuck out of me. She’s hot and sexy, dangerous in her own right, but somehow manages to possess this impressive level of femininity that I think I’m addicted to. I seriously underestimated her.”
Khane didn’t give a reply, and it was easy to see by his smiling gaze that he understood my problem from experience. I knew from watching them together that all Desiree had to do was ask for something, anything, and Khane would make sure it was done.
Was that my fate? Was I going to end up becoming a lap dog, sitting, lying down, and rolling over for Mecca?
16
Mecca
After a few discouraging calls about our waning drug supply and the street starting to dry up, my depression intensified. I had exhausted my efforts, and the quick fixes I had applied, were just that, quick fixes and a loan of the size I needed would raise serious eyebrows.
In the bathroom, I sat on the edge of the tub after a long hot bath, contemplating how I would fix things. Arjen had knocked on the door twice, asking if I was okay. I had unlocked it after getting dressed, but remained in place, consumed by my raging thoughts.
At the sound of the bathroom door opening unexpectantly, I jumped, my body more surprised than my mind. Arjen drew closer, his face squinted in concern. I didn’t stop my pacing until he placed his strong hands on my shoulders to stop me.
A strange mix of sorrow and anger had me high. As much death and destruction as I had caused and was witnessed to, I found it odd that it hadn’t extracted all of my humanity. The ability to express deep sorrow still resided inside me.
“What’s wrong, love? Please, come here. You’re so knotted with tension, I can feel it with the slightest touch.”
The huge bathroom had a sitting area adorned with a comfortable armless leather chair that sat against the wall. Arjen tugged me and my coiled tension along as he took the seat. When he