Tragos had slept, last night, but not well. Dreams of strange shapes in the dark and a woman’s voice like an angry promise, mixing with dreams of his anger at Barak to add more poison to the whole thing. He’d woken up late for him, and walked Kaden, who wasn’t speaking much, to school. Kaden kept looking into empty lots and yards like he was looking for something, but wouldn’t tell Tragos what. He’d kept his hood up the whole way and his face was pale against the black fabric, pale like it had been against the balaclava last night. Tragos told him there were no cameras in Gino’s yard, and that one of the War Dogs was part of the police force in Queens and could do something about the cameras so they wouldn’t get caught.
Kaden’s face had not been comforted: Barak should get caught, except if he did, he’d say that Tragos was the one who fired the gun and they’d both go to jail and he’d be left with Cy and every part of this scared him. He peeled away from Tragos as they approached school, running across the road and in through the gate without saying goodbye.
Tragos carried on toward the gym and proceeded to destroy himself against a punching bag. By the time Marcie showed up, he’d managed to punch last night into a dark corner of his mind, and seeing her again felt like turning on a light. Marcie. Marcie was back.
Tragos hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her since he’d spotted her across the gym. He was supposed to be spotting for Ander, but the magnetism of her curves was too hard to fight. She’d been gone a week - and it had been a fucking hell of a week - and he was desperate to be alone with her again. Watching her work out, watching the colour rise in her cheeks and the sweat stick a strand of dark hair to her face made him want to kiss her, so badly. He could remember vividly what it felt like to be pressed up against her while she breathed as hard as she was breathing across the gym, could picture the searing heat of her body against his, and needed her… just needed her.
Slipping into the women’s change room was obviously a terrible idea but, well, putting off being alone with her for however long it took them both to get back to her place was also terrible. When she bit her lip upon seeing him it felt like she’d plugged him into a wall socket, the wild rush that went through him. “Hey,” he said, his voice a little husky, and he strode across the room to grab her face, looking at her for a moment before he took that bitten lip under his own mouth. His hands slid around the back of her neck, holding her face close as he kissed her hello.
Hello and I need you and please and Marcie. He hadn’t known a kiss could try and communicate so much.