I return my attention to Grey and find him studying me with unmasked interest.
“Good evening, you mean?” I ask, snarky little ass that I am. I lean my elbows on the surface of the table and press my fingertips against my throbbing temples. After we got back last night, I had a quick x-ray and a visit with the compound doc. Same guy who fixed up my chest and did the blood transfusion with Grainger’s donation.
Amazingly, no broken bones. For as hard as Gaz punched me, you’d think I’d have at least one. But no. Apparently, I’m made of tougher stuff.
“Or good night?” I continue when Grey just smiles at me. All of the blinds are closed, but it’s still pretty ballsy of him to be sitting out here like he’s a guest instead of … whatever it is that he is. “Why do you look so chipper? What’s your father going to say when you don’t come back or communicate with him in any way?”
One of Beast’s requirements for allowing Grey to stay here was to make sure he had zero access to a phone or internet. Or really anything. Beast even took the power cord from the smart TV in the living room. His trust for Grey is minimal.
“He’ll either kill me or believe the truth: that I was trapped here on the compound with no way out.” Grey pauses as Reba reenters the room, coming to stand beside me with an awkward set to her shoulders.
She’s worried about me, but she’s also afraid of what’s going to happen now that Grey’s spilled her secret.
She was feeding him information.
It’s a crime punishable by death.
Reba has a right to be afraid.
Fem, on the other hand, isn’t afraid of anyone or anything. My dog struts right into the room behind Reba, tail raised, triangular ears perked, and lets out a low, rumbling growl. With a click of my tongue, I call him over to my side and he turns, putting his back to my legs before sitting down.
It’s a defensive position to be sure, but that’s okay. Feminist and I have each other’s backs. And anyway, it’s kind of nice to see that he still really is my dog and not Reba’s. If he wanted to go with her to the convent, I’d let him. My hand drops down to stroke one of his silky ears, and he turns his head toward me, resting his muzzle in my lap.
“Beast …” I murmur, feeling sick at the idea of having to rely on anyone for anything, but knowing that I sort of have to right now. I need to heal, and I need to heal quick. Rest will do that. Being a dickhead and whining about how I can do everything myself, well, that won’t help me much at all.
“Wife,” he replies, setting a glass of orange juice down beside me and piling some pills beside it. A bunch of painkillers, an anti-inflammatory, whatever else the doctor sent me home with. I’m sure most of it is smuggled, and purchased from the same suppliers who sell the club product for redistribution. “We don’t have anything to eat in here.” Beast mulls that information over for a moment as I scoop the pills up and pile them into my mouth two at a time, using the juice to help me swallow.
I’d make a lewd joke but now doesn’t feel like an appropriate moment.
“We’ve always been so alike, you know?”
Cat said that to me, just before he shot my brother in the back of the head. Why? What did he mean by it? I’m obsessing over the moment and rightfully so: this is still very much a ‘life-or-death’ type incident. It’s not over by any means. I scratch Fem-fem’s head as I think.
“Can you please acknowledge me so that I know where I stand?” Reba whispers, coming around to my other side and yanking out a chair. She puts her hands delicately in her lap, but her emerald stare, when she directs it at me, is anything but delicate. She is going to make a terrifying fucking nun. Like, God help any little children under her care; that stare dives straight to the bones.
I glare right back.
“I trusted you,” I tell her, and she cringes like she’s been hit. None of this is fair. I get that this game that Grey and I are playing comes at a price. We’re friends, but we’re not … I don’t know how to explain it. We’re still rivals. He’s still mafia; I’m still club. He’s a Montague; I’m a Capulet. Just like Kian and Queenie.
“Grey said it would keep you safe, and it did. He was right. I was right to trust him. You are—relatively speakin’—safe.”
Beast grunts at her, and I decide to keep to myself how damn lucky the two of them are that I’m here. I’m not sure what he’d do to Reba—I just can’t imagine the man killing a child or an innocent woman like Reba Keller—but he certainly wouldn’t be handling this as calmly and painlessly as I am.
