Zeus (Mike Bravo Ops, #4)

by Eden Finley

Iris struts, and he spins, continuously reaching into a black fanny pack around his waist to pull out more petals.

“I can’t wait to see it.” “The asteroid?” “You. Falling ass over tit in love.”

I should probably see a shrink about that, but meh. Why pay for therapy when C4, guns, and a good old game of cat and mouse can be as cathartic?

I’m beginning to think Trav’s rules are all bullshit. Or that they only apply to me because … okay, yeah, fair enough.

Huh. Apparently, I’ve found a type I won’t go for, and that’s guys who look like teenagers. Good to know I have boundaries. Go me.

The only thing I’ve ever craved from a partner. To be choked in bed but loved outside of it. Is that so much to ask?

“I’ve got you,” Zeus says, trying to reassure me some more. “You don’t have to worry about me breaking you.” “I already know you won’t do that.” He frowns. “You do?” “You can’t break a man who’s already broken.”

That’s abusive relationships 101. They cut you off from the world and then make you believe that the only reason you have purpose is them.”

I mean that sometimes, no matter what we do, no matter what we show or prove to others, sometimes we know that they will never see us as anything else.

I fight the urge to hold his hand, to show him that I’m here for him, but if we walked out there hand in hand, I would never hear the end of it. Ever. Like, the guys would write it on my tombstone. “Here lies Zeus. He liked to pretend he was a fuckboy, but let it be said, he once held a boy’s hand.”

“Fine, I swear on the Kama Sutra, if one hair on his pretty little head gets hurt, I’ll go on a rampage that will take down all of the crooks in Las Vegas.”