10. Snowflake

TEN

SNOWFLAKE

GENEVIEVE

I … I didn’t know that was possible.

I think about sticking a finger between my teeth and biting down. It’ll hurt, and I’ll probably leave teeth marks in the skin and white marks on my nail, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to, like, bite off the tip.

Is it because that creep was already hard when he came down here, expecting me to suck his cock? It all happened so fast. The fear that he might actually do it, the terror that Cross might have to watch me do it, and just how quickly Cross offered to take my place.

I tried to tell him that he didn’t have to. To be honest, I didn’t think Mickey would actually want Cross to do it instead of me, but both men surprised me as Cross dropped to his knees and that prick of guard held his erection out to Cross.

For a split second, all I could think was how fucking stupid I am. I’ve been best friends with Christopher since we were eight . I was there when he liked girls, I was there when he liked boys, and I was there when he decided he liked both. When Cross told me that he didn’t do relationships, that we could be just friends, it never even dawned on me that he was probably so uncomfortable by my obvious attraction to him, he came up with an excuse so I’d stop coming onto him.

I don’t know why he just didn’t tell me he was gay!

I mean, I would’ve been disappointed, sure, but only because I never had a chance with him if he batted for the other team. I still liked him. I’m still in awe of his talent. I already decided that, if friends were all we could be, I could use another one. It brings my grand total to, like, three if I count my sister-in-law, but that works, right?

And then, just as Cross took Mickey’s cock into his mouth, his jaw moved and, holy shit, I had no idea you could bite off the tip of someone’s dick like that.

Mickey almost killed him. If it wasn’t for that booming voice making him stop, he would have. I have no doubt in my mind that he would’ve, or that Cross was expecting that.

Only he didn’t, and now it’s just the two of us again, and by the time I break out of my admittedly stunned stupor, he’s rubbing his battered cheek with one hand, using the other to cup water from the faucet and sip it.

I approach him carefully. “Cross? You okay?”

Mickey kicked him in the face, then pistol-whipped him with his gun. If his cheek isn’t fractured, he’s lucky as hell, but it’ll be purple sooner or later. His mouth is bloody, but I don’t think it’s his blood. Still, before he answers me, he swishes around the water he sipped, then spits it out into the basin of the sink.

It’s slightly pink from the blood.

He looks at it, shaking his head. “Just washing my mouth out,” he says needlessly. And then he adds, “Gotta get the taste out of my mouth.”

I nod in sympathy. “The blood.”

Cross starts filling up his hand again. “No. Not the blood.”

Oh. He’s talking about Mickey’s dick, isn’t he? “I hate that you had to do that.”

He washes his mouth out again, and shrugs. “It is what it is.” A pause, and then, “You ever suck cock?”

Cross knows I’m a virgin. I cringe to think about how desperate I was, but when we were hanging out, I wasn’t shy about being eager to lose my V-card. Now I’m pretty sure that never would’ve been with Cross, but when it comes to other sexual experiences… “No. I haven’t.”

“It feels great when someone you’re into is sucking yours. But having to be the giver… I can’t stand the taste of cock.”

And there’s the confirmation. “It’s good to know,” I say.

Cross has been avoiding my gaze. Not now. He looks at me, almost like expecting me to be appalled by what he did—or what he said. “You alright, Genevieve?”

I have no right to think my mortification tops what happened to him. He got beat, his brains nearly blown away, for me . Realizing that I’m not his type is nothing compared to that.

“Yeah. I mean, given the situation, I’m as okay as I can be.”

His laugh is hollow, fingertips probing his cheek. “Ditto,” he says, “though I wish you’d be honest with me. Something’s bothering you. No, don’t deny it. Come out with it. I know what you’ve gotta be thinking about what just happened. Don’t keep it in. Remember, we’re in this together.”

Right. Only one of us had a cock in their mouth and a gun to their head, though.“It’s nothing?—”

“Genevieve.”

Okay. He asked for it. “It’s just.. I didn’t know you were gay, okay?” I hold up my hands, cutting him off before he can say anything. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. You wanted to be friends. I’m the idiot who deluded myself into thinking all those times we went out to eat were dates. It’s okay.”

“Genevieve—”

“Christopher,” I blurt out. “If we make it out of here alive, I’ll introduce you to Christopher. That thing with Jessie fizzled out. Maybe he’d be into a sexy artist like you.”

I’m babbling. Part of that’s because I feel embarrassed. The other part’s because I’m trying not to think about how, if I’d just gone to my knees instead, Cross’s mouth wouldn’t still be this bloody.

His eyes flash as I mention Christopher, but then he says, “Genevieve. I’m not gay.”

“Okay. Christopher is bi, too, so I get it?—”

“I’m not bi, either.”

I open my mouth.

He grimaces, and I’m not sure if it’s because his face has got to be killing him, or because he wants me to drop it. “Genevieve. I promise you. I’m into women.”

I don’t understand. “Then why were you willing to, you know, do that ?”

“It’s not my favorite thing to do, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he says in that flat tone that warns me against continuing.

I don’t. I can’t. “But you’re straight?—”

I’m used to Cross’s sad eyes. I’ve never seen them this angry .

Not at me, though. I have no idea how I can tell that the anger is for someone else, but even before he says another word, I know he’s hurting and he’s upset, too, but his anger? He’s not directing it at me, even as his voice turns hard.

“You had your older brother to protect you as you were growing up. It was my job to protect my younger brother and sister.”

Oh.

Oh .

He’s not saying… but he is, isn’t he? To protect his younger siblings, his stepfather made him do that ?

I know I should drop it. His tone is all but begging me, too. Even the little voice in my head is chanting: Shut up, Gen. Shut up, shutup?—

“Are they okay now?” I ask.

“They’re dead.”

I should’ve listened to the little voice.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Cross, I’m so sorry?—”

“I was twelve. There was a fire.” His hands ghost up his throat. “My stepfather set it after I threatened to tell to get him to leave me the fuck alone, but he didn’t have the decency to die in the blaze himself. Just my family.”

Lowering his hands, he twists his arm, showing me the names inked on his skin. “Ana Lucia was nine. Rafe was eleven. My mother didn’t even make it to thirty.” Cross huffs out a breath. “She had three kids and I fucking outlived her.”

I lift my fingers to my lips. Look at that. I finally figured out how to shut up.

Cross slams the faucet handle down, cutting off the stream of water. He spins around, bracing the sink with his hands, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I know what bad men want, butterfly. Men like Chad. Men like Mickey. I would never let them get to you. I couldn’t save my family, but I promise you this: I will save you. But you have to finally understand something. I know what bad men want because I am one.”

No.

He’s not .

I step closer to him, expecting him to shove off of the sink and storm away toward the glass door. When he doesn’t, I move until he’s within arm each before I tell him, “You protected me. I don’t care about anything else. That makes you a good man.”

He shudders out a breath. “I protect those I care a bout,” he rasps. “You? You are my muse . My inspiration. You couldn’t be anything other than that because I couldn’t bring you into the darkness that is my life.”

His chest is heaving. I lay my hand between his pecs. “You sound like Damien,” I say, purposely putting a hint of a tease in my voice. “But you’re not. You’re Cross. And I care about you, too.”

He bows his head over mine, pressing our foreheads together. “You’re special, Genevieve. You deserve someone good.”

“I found him,” I murmur back. Slowly, carefully, giving him every chance to stop me… I slide my hand up his chest, moving my hand until I’m gently touching the side of his swollen face. “Cross?”

“Butterfly,” he breathes out.

He thinks that I could never be with a man like him. That I could never love him. Learning the truth of his past… my heart breaks for him. Adding that to what I just saw him do? I’m so fucking impressed by the strength of my artist.

Cross trembles under my touch, yet I can’t shake the feeling that he expects e to push him away.

Oh, babe. Don’t you know that I never do what anyone expects me to?

I part my lips. “You said you were trying to get that taste out of your mouth before,” I murmur.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows roughly. “Yeah.”

“Then let me.”

I’ve only had a couple of kisses before. I’m not completely inexperienced when it comes to that, though it’s a little more intense when I’m trying to get him to open up without aggravating his fresh injury. I’m not worried about the blood that might still be in his mouth, thought I probably should be. It’s more that I don’t want his cheek to hurt.

So I try to be careful.

Cross?

The moment my tongue touches his, he’s like a wildfire ready to consume me. His heat sears me down to my core, and I’m not sure if I’m kissing him or he’s kissing me, just that I never want to stop kissing this man ever.

And who knows what would have happened next if it wasn’t for a soft rap-tap-tap at our glass door…

Cross groans into his mouth, but he immediately releases me. Dropping his hands to my waist, he eases me out of the way, then moves so he’s standing right in front of me as I turned to see who is out there.

I doubted it would be Mickey. I thought it might be Noah, returning after he brought Mickey to the car waiting to bring him to get stitched up if possible.

It’s neither.

In fact, I have no clue who he is at all.

Once he has our attention, he opens the glass door and steps into our cell. Not too far, though, barely a step inside, and he’s so confident that he can handle a five-three ballerina and a half-beaten artist, he doesn’t close the door behind him.

He’s also obviously not a moron because, like Mickey, he has his gun out.

This man has a pleasant face. His hair is a rich, inky black, styled similarly to how my brother wears his. His suit is the same color. His eyes are dark, though his skin is very, very pale.

I feel like I know him, though, and that gives me enough nerve to demand, “Who are you?”

There’s a snowflake inked on his palm.

After seeing Cross’s work, I know a shitty tat when I see one. That one is not shitty. I can’t imagine how much time he spent getting the details of such an elaborate snowflake on such a sensitive, lined piece of skin, but unless it’s crappy up close, that tells me has time, money, and patience.

Oh, and a pretty fucking high pain tolerance, too.

That’s what his tattoo tells me. It’s gotta tell Cross the same thing, but he must see something else I don’t because he goes stiff in front of me, his voice low as he spits out, “I know who he is. Winter .”

That’s impossible. Damien had a file about his would-be killer in his office. Christopher snapped a pic of it for me, so I know what Jimmy Winter looks like. And, yeah, now that Cross mentions it, his face does remind me of Jimmy Winter, but the rest of him?

“That’s not Jimmy Winter. He had white hair.”

“Dye exists,” Cross mutters.

“Okay, fine. But he’s dead . Sav— I mean. Someone killed him.”

The dark-haired man gives me an indulgent grin. “Don’t be shy, Ms. Libellula. I know very well what happened to my brother. How he didn’t listen to me when I told him we needed more time to infiltrate Springfield. How we’re used to wiping out single gangs, not one as large as the conglomerate created when Mr. Libellula and Mr. Crewes joined forces. How one needn’t use death as a motivator until it’s a last resort.” His lips twitch. “You kill a man, he’s gone. You destroy him and, well, he has to live with what he lost.”

Cross gulps.

Me? I’m stuck on one thing in particular this guy said. “Brother?”

“Twin,” he agrees. “Very astute, Mr. da Silva. Dye exists. So does bleach, and Jimmy was a very big fan of it. Not me. So now that he’s gone and we don’t have to pretend to be the same man anymore, I’ve tidied up a few details about what it means to be a Winter. Starting with the hair.”

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Cross doesn’t seem as shocked as me to discover there are two Winters. “You know, I was beginning to doubt our guy’s skill. If Winter had a twin, he would’ve figured it out. But two of you pretending to be one guy… wasn’t there a movie like that? With magicians?”

“Perhaps. But, I assure you, that this is real life. My life, and now yours. Johnny Winter, at your service.” His dark eyes gleam. “I hope you’re enjoying your accommodations.”

Okay. Whether he’s screwing with us or not, I don’t care. “What do you want with us?”

He seems pleased I asked.

“It’s very simple. I want what my brother’s always wanted. What the two of us sacrificed for, worked for all these years.”

“Yeah? And what’s that.”

“Power,” he says simply. “Territory. Money . But he didn’t listen to me. All these years, I let him take the lead, pretending I was him so that no one knew there was Johnny and Jimmy. All I asked was that he listen to me. God knows I’m the brains of the operation, and he was the face of it even though we have the same face. But, alas, your sister-in-law just had to run him down.” He sighs, and I get the feeling that he could care less that Savannah killed his brother. “And now I ’m in charge.”

“That didn’t answer Genevieve’s question, though,” Cross says. “The Snowflakes deal drugs. They run guns. I’ve heard they’re in the skin game, too. You can get power, territory, and money with all that. You went to a lot of trouble to kidnap us. To throw us in a cage.”

“Yes, but that’s because you’ve already forgot what I said. Some rivals… I want to destroy them. What better way to do that by taking what they love and bringing them to their knees.” His gaze dips to Cross’s. “You know all about that, don’t you, Mr. da Silva?”

Cross takes a step forward. I grab the back of his t-shirt.

Winter doesn’t even react, keeping his gun at his side.

“I’m not like my twin,” he says after a moment. “Death is so final. I prefer it to be a last resort. Like you said, I went to a lot of trouble to get to you.” He ticks off fingers on his hand. “There was that Sinner. Dave… Sanders? Yes. I tink that was his name. I paid him close to a thousand dollars to keep an eye on you two, letting me know your routine, where I might be able to catch you. Oh, and these was that Dragonfly that my twin tortured. Oliver… sorry. I didn’t get his last name before Jimmy gutted him. But he’s the one who said, to get to Damien Libellula, we needed to go through either his sister of his wife. Only his wife had a tracker in her arm, and sweet Genevieve… she did not.”

“How do you know that?”

He tsk s. “Weren’t you listening? Oliver told me. Keep up, Ms. Libellula, please. I don’t often make personal appearances, and I don’t like to waste my time. I have plans for you two. So, if you would, be a good little girl and behave yourself until I’m ready for the next part of it, I’ll what I can to make your time here more… acceptable.”

I don’t like the way he said that.

Neither does Cross. “Plans? Like what?”

Winter ignores him. “Anyway, I just wanted to assure you that none of my men have my permission to touch you. In fact, this stage of my plan hinges on it. That’s why I had to make the trip down here myself so you could meet me in person and see how serious I am about that. If they try, I’ll have them killed. I hope you understand.”

Yeah. I’m not sure I do. “Hang on?—”

Winter lifts his gun, just making sure we see it. “And if you assault one of my guards again, I’ll have you killed. Is that clear?”

He smiles.

Goddamn it, I flinch.

Now, I just watched the man I love get brutalized. I watched him mutilate another man with his teeth. Neither one of them turned my stomach the way Johnny Winter’s smile after he just so pleasantly threatened to kill Cross.

I gulp, answering before he gets the chance. “Crystal.”