CAGED (#3, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 78

There was a row of parked Ducatis near Graysen's Mustang, but the one directly behind the vehicle was tipped on the ground. Its wheels were buckled, and scratch marks marred the black paintwork with gruesome dents gouging the metal body. The bike looked like it had been smashed and dragged across the garage floor and rammed until it was a wrangled mess of metal and rubber and plastic. "What happened to that bike?" I breathed, my eyes round.

Graysen casually dropped the shovel and bags inside the trunk, before glancing over his shoulder at the twisted remains of the Ducati. "Oh, Jett's?" He slammed the trunk down before swiveling around. "I went for a drive last night and I didn't see it when I was backing in."

"Really?" I drawled, squinting up at the brightly glowing commercial lights. Graysen also possessed night vision, so I called bullshit on him mistakenly not seeing his younger brother's bike.

"I might not have seen it a couple of times," he added, rocking back on his heels and rubbing the backs of his curled fingers under his chin, trying hard not to grin.

He couldn't grin, but I could. "Passive aggressive much?"

He pinched his thumb and forefinger together. "Just a little."

I gave him a long considering look. He'd obviously had anger issues to burn through last night. "Was that after you found out what Jett did yesterday?" Graysen had sent Sage down the escape tunnel to find me, so it made sense that he'd discovered what his younger brother had done earlier—hunt me down with a malicious game of cat and mouse.

He nodded. His jaw clenched and black eyelashes lowered over eyes gone dark with a surge of violent emotion before it shuttered away. The same emotion erupted through my veins like bubbling lava. I lurched forward to kick the broken tail light and sent it skittering across the concrete floor to strike off a metal locker. Jett Crowther was a fucking asshole.

Graysen's deep voice rolled across the space between us. "Feel better?"

"A little bit," I replied, pinching my forefinger and thumb together like he'd just done.

This time he did grin. He patted the rear spoiler of his car. "Come on, there's a Horned God we need to find."

I quickly made my way back to the front passenger door and ducked into the car, squiggling my ass in the plush leather seat and getting comfortable for the ride. The first thing I did was kick the gods' awful shoes off and curl my toes into the soft mat, sighing in contentment.

Graysen slid into the driver's seat and leaned over to help me with the seatbelt which was a four-point harness like racing drivers wore. He settled back behind the steering wheel and plucked out his Wayfarers which were hooked into the front of his t-shirt and slipped them on. With a quick flick of the ignition, the engine roared to life and he gripped the gear shift. With a booted foot, he gunned the Mustang and the throaty growl of the engine filled the car's interior and had my heart racing in excitement. The harnessed power vibrated beneath my seat, eager to be unleashed.