Page 110 of Unleashed

“We have to go to them.” I peer around the rock, looking for the source of the shots. “Get ready to run like hell.”

34

Maren

Iknow I’m smiling, and I don’t care. Happiness isn’t an emotion I’ve possessed much of over my life, and now that I have it, I’m finding it hard to keep the feeling under wraps.

Brooke gives me a knowing smile. “Feel better?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I sigh, because that’s not really true anymore. “I don’t know how to talk about it.” That’s a much more accurate statement.

Opening up is not something I’ve ever done. There was no one to open up to. The years when most kids learned how to communicate their thoughts and feelings, I was busy trying to find food and a clean-ish place to sleep. Even as an adult, the only person I’ve genuinely been close to is my sister. And there’s no way in hell I would burden her with my baggage.

All that has left me woefully unprepared for adult relationships. Of all types.

“I understand.” Brooke keeps her voice quiet as we trail behind Ruth, who seems to be on a mission to get this lunch process started as quickly as possible. “You know you can talk to someone who might be able to help you figure that out.”

“I’m pretty sure Bert’s dance card is full.” I’ve never met Bert, but he’s inherited at least three of the Bradshaw boys as therapy patients, which means he’s likely filled with regret and questioning his career choice.

“I’m not talking about Bert.” Brooke loops one arm through mine. “He’s great and all, but not really what I was looking for.”

That has my brows lifting. “You’ve been going to therapy?”

My friend gives me a sad smile. “You’re not the only one who’s not great at sharing.” She sighs. “I started to realize I didn’t have the first clue how to move past my parents being what they are.” She tips her head. “Plus everything that happened with Matt.”

I should probably thank my lucky stars I never accidentally ended up entangled with someone like Brooke’s ex-fiancé. Because I wouldn’t be looking for a therapist, I’d be looking for a defense attorney. I’m not always great at knowing when it’s in my best interest to chill the fuck out, and I probably would have ended up on the hook for a murder.

With no murder van to move the body.

I think about what Brooke has said for a second, and realize she’s probably right. I could use a little therapizing. “You could send me your therapist’s name, if you wanted.”

“You got it.” My best friend doesn’t make it a big deal, which I appreciate. The thought of telling a stranger about my childhood makes me feel a little gaggy, and I’d really like to enjoy my lunch hour.

Even if I’m not spending it getting railed against the wall in Trevor’s office.

We reach the warehouse where Lindsey works to find her waiting on us. She looks a little pale, and a lot less perky than normal, as she gives us a halfhearted wave.

“Hey.” She almost manages a smile. “Are you guys ready?”

Ruth tips her head, looking our new friend over. “Do you feel okay?” Her eyes narrow. “Are you still hung over?”

“I’m fine.” Lindsey hugs her purse tight to her chest. “We can go if you guys are ready.”

Ruth studies her for a second longer, but then Lindsey walks to the door, and we don’t really have a choice but to follow behind. She’s weirdly silent as we make our way through the halls, heading for the lobby.

Something feels weird. I don’t know exactly what it is, but everything seems off about Lindsey today.

Or that could just be me. My whole life has changed dramatically in the past two weeks, and it’s taken some adjusting. Not in a bad way, but different is still different. Plus, this is Zara’s first day at school with Quinn at her side, and I’m a little nervous about it. I’ve gotten to know the mercenary relatively well since he’s been here, so I know my sister is completely and totally safe.

But different is still different.

As we reach the vestibule leading to the lot, Brooke fishes her keys from the purse looped over one shoulder. “I promised Tobias we would take my car.” She gives Lindsey a smile. “It just has a lot of safety features on it, and he likes to know I’m as protected as possible.”

Everyone’s been a little on edge since we discovered my computer had been switched. And while no one has explicitly said we can’t go anywhere on our own—that would go over like a fart in an elevator—the boys probably don’t love not having us in their sights. For a group who grew up getting pretty much anything they wanted, the Bradshaw brothers are still really fucking territorial and protective of what’s theirs.

Ruth bumps me with her hip as we step out into the lot. “You’re smiling.”

I groan. “I really wish people would stop pointing shit like that out.”