CRAVE - BAD BOY ROMANCE by Elodie Chase Page A

the
coffee table in the living room and let you stare into their eyes.”
    “Cade…”
    But he wasn’t finished, not by a long
shot. “I told them you didn't believe. I told them you didn't give a shit. And
you know what?”
    “What?”
    “They didn't give a shit. Not one of
them. They think you'll come around, and they're desperate enough that a few of
them have even convinced themselves that your Grandmother will work through
you, even if you don't want her to.”
    Whatever good feelings the alcohol
had inspired were gone, instantly washed away in a cold wave of anger. “If you already
knew I didn't go in for all this Voodoo crap, why did you send Jessica in to
talk to me?”
    “Who, the owner of that dress shop?
She came up to me and asked who you were. I told her. When she wanted to know
if you had the gift as well, I made it crystal clear that the power had died
with Marie. She didn't believe me. Jessica was no different than the long line
of people bending my ear tonight, hoping against hope that I was wrong about
you.”
    I bit my lip, stopping myself from
saying whatever I'd been about to say. My blood was pumping, and I could feel
both of the Mint Juleps I'd had working against me, urging me on to rip him a
new one with some witty, wicked remark. Instead, I sucked in a long, slow breath
and said, “But you're not wrong about me.”
    That was it. I was watching him
closely enough to see the exact moment in his handsome face that he gave up on
me. I saw now that he'd been hoping that the others were right. He didn't want
to watch whatever magic he believed in end with Marie, but that's exactly what
he was seeing now.
    I stared past him, picking a spot
just above and beyond the leather jacket on his muscled shoulder. I couldn't
stand to meet his gaze, not when there was so much disappointment locked into
his expression. “Listen...”
    “No. There's nothing left to say. You
aren't going to carry on her work, which means you're going to have to put the
house up for sale.”
    I felt my body flinch as if I'd just
been slapped. “How the hell do you already know that? That information is supposed
to be private. It's meant to stay between the lawyer you took me to this
morning and myself. You've got no right to-”
    “Enough of your bullshit, Rachel,” he
growled, slicing through my words. “You didn't think Marie would have let me
know the conditions of her will? I was off getting the new documents certified
when she got killed, remember? She was hoping you'd stay, and if you wanted to
she needed you to know that it would be your job to hold the community
together, same as she had for so long. So leave. Sell the house. Take your
money and go back to Detroit.”
    “But...”
    “We were fine before you showed up,
and we'll be fine once you go.” His voice, filled with passion and brimming
with anger, was loud enough now that the people nearest to us stopped their
reminiscing and cast worried glances in our direction.
    I didn't know where to look, so
instead of risking the sea of faces I stared at the few folded dollar bills
still sitting on the top of the bar. There beautiful, really. Intricately folded
and twisted in upon themselves, like little works of art. Origami meets
religion, I suppose.
    “Cade...”
    His big hand covered mine, and the
tension in him instantly sobered me up. Something was wrong. I shot my gaze up
to his face, only to see him staring off across the room, the muscles in his
forearms bulging.
    That was when I heard it. The clink
of glasses, the murmur of conversation, the snippets of jazz and Spanish guitar
that had filled the air ever since the funeral began were gone, wiped away as
cleanly as chalk from a slate.
    “What's wrong?”
    “Stay here,” he said, and there
wasn't an ounce of softness or compassion in his voice. He sounded like a
killer. “Don't leave this spot, whatever happens.”
    I craned my neck in the direction he
was looking. Something was happening over near the