“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Crown asks dryly, giving his sergeant-at-arms a sharp stare. “Look how you turned out.”
“Right. A young officer in a powerful club. With a gorgeous girl and a baby on the way. I’m a total fuck-up.” Cade leans back in his seat and threads his fingers together behind his head. He’s still in pain, that much was obvious from having sex with him last night, but he hides it well. He lets his dark gaze trail over to Beast who, of course, has yet to say a word on the subject.
If it bothers him that he knows for sure that this isn’t his baby, he doesn’t let on. He’s such an honest person, he’d likely say something if it did. There’s reassurance in that for me, in knowing that I have someone around that I never have to worry about. If Beast is upset, he’ll just tell me. If he doesn’t like something, he’ll voice his concerns.
“So we’re really doing this then?” Grainger adds, when nobody interrupts him or corrects the ‘gorgeous girl’ part of his statement. “Fucking Christ.”
My lips twitch as I turn around and hold out the mug with a sad moue.
“I like it best when you make it,” I tell Cade, giving him a look that makes him scowl and scoff.
“Hell woman,” he snarls, shoving up from his chair with a slight grimace. He manages to walk the pain off, coming over to me and snatching the mug from my hand. “Sit down.”
I grin because, shit, this should be fun. I’ll let them baby and pamper me all they want indoors. Just so long as they don’t think I’ll stay here for the remainder of this stupid war.
This won’t be over until I spill blood with my own hands.
I take Grainger’s seat, looking up just in time to see Grey step into the room.
He goes completely still, like a wolf who’s just stumbled on a cave full of grizzly bears. His silver eyes dart around the room before landing on Grainger’s back, on the patch with the black moon eclipsing the devil’s grin of a bloodred sun.
My most ornery lover turns back in time to see that he’s being watched. I remember that the two of them met before, and that it didn’t exactly go well.
“What the fuck is this piece of shit still doing here?” he snarls out, and I see the fingers of his left hand twitching against the pistol on his belt. Grey’s eyes snap down to the movement, and I see that intelligent gaze of his working out a solution, an escape.
I must be that escape because his gaze swings over to mine and locks on.
“Cade,” I warn, but he just scoffs and moves over to the table, slamming the mug down so hard that some of the liquid sloshes over the side. Fem snarls from his position on the far side of the room, hackles raised at the smell of violence.
“This is an invitation for trouble,” Grainger says, directing his words at his vice president and not me. He points his right hand at Grey. “Dashcam footage that was clearly obtained from a mafia car—god Gaz was a moron—isn’t much of a smoking gun, Crown. Whatever you think Cat knows, it’s nothing compared to this. If he finds this boy here, he will hang the five of us and smile while he does it.”
A shiver traces over my skin because Grainger’s probably right.
Cat knows I’m a traitor, that I saved Grey, and that his officers helped me cover it up. But he doesn’t know that I’ve been communicating with the don’s last, living heir. He certainly isn’t aware that the boy’s been living here. Or that I plan on helping him ascend the Grey Wolfe throne.
“As of yesterday, we’re still checking everyone who goes in and out—and not on my orders,” Crown offers up, giving Grainger a sidelong look. “Cat doesn’t trust us anymore, remember? He expects deflection.”
“We need to prove ourselves to him,” I say, and the room goes quiet, as if every word that leaves my mouth is somehow precious. I don’t know when that happened or how, or if I’m just imagining it, but … “We need to bring him the bodies of the men who killed my sisters.”
“I need to get off the compound,” Grey agrees, nodding but keeping his attention fixed primarily on Cade. Big mistake and one that I know my father’s exploited to his benefit. If you put Beast and Cade in a room with people who aren’t aware of their reputations, eyes always go to Grainger. He’s wildly unpredictable and holds onto this raw anger that crackles deep inside the depths of his soul.
Gazes always go to him in worry, wondering what he might do, what violence he might inflict.
