I don’t belong here. It’s never been more apparent to me. I shouldn’t be here.
“Aria,” Addison’s quick to call out for me, but I can’t even stand to look at her knowing we couldn’t be any further apart in what we’re feeling right now. She doesn’t need me dragging her down, ruining this special moment for her, and there’s nothing she can give me in this moment that I would accept.
“I’m good,” I say and barely turn to look over my shoulder at the only friend I have in here. With my hand raised, she stops where she is. “Please.” The single word is a plea for her to leave me alone, and she listens.
Stepping around Carter, I leave them as quick as I can. I only glance back once to see Daniel holding Addison’s wrist as she stares at me with tears in her eyes. Carter’s gone; where to? I don’t know, and I don’t care.
I’ve never felt so torn in my life.
I knew life would never be easy for me. Not with the man my father is. But I never imagined I’d fall in love with the enemy. So much so that I would be here with him, willingly, while my family mourns deaths committed by his hand. Or that I would be mourning the loss of a love that never should have been.
So what does that make me?
Who does that make me?
Chapter 6
Carter
War stops for no one.
Death never waits.
“Each wing is secure and the repairs are underway, sir,” Aden tells me with a nod of his head as he stands outside of Jase’s office in his wing. Most of the damage was done to Declan’s wing, but everything is salvageable.
“What’s the timeline?” I ask Aden. He’s a new guard, one of a dozen. When the death toll came in, we lost more men than I thought originally. Right now we’re keeping everyone close, but it’s only temporary; it’s just until we get eyes on both Romano’s men and Talvery’s. Jett’s taking care of that with a small crew. Everything’s waiting on him. But I fucking hate waiting.
“Two weeks tops until everything is replaced,” he answers and I give him a nod, effectively dismissing him before walking into Jase’s open door and closing it behind me.
Jase’s office is nothing like mine. There’s not a single book. There’s no desk either. I only refer to it as an office because he does. The fireplace is almost always lit though, and flames reflect off of the mirrored coffee table in front of it. The mirrored surface has a thick patina that’s developed over time. I guess Jase prefers it that way, or he’d polish it.
The shelves that line the wall to the right hold the rare antique weapons he collects. Mostly swords and knives. The ancient feel they have and their crude primitive backgrounds are at odds with the clean lines of the rest of the room. Overall, the aesthetic is modern and barren.
“How is she?” Jase asks me. His gaze stays on the fire until I take the seat next to him on the sleek, black leather sofa. It’s only then that he looks up at me.
I don’t answer him, the words fighting with my emotions in the back of my throat.
“That bad?” he asks, and I only nod.
The fire crackles in front of us while I sit with my brother, remembering how we got here nearly a decade ago. When I was only a kid, left at death’s doorstep and wishing for it to come quickly. Jase is the one who made the first move. He killed each of the men who grabbed me from the street corner. He was fueled by anger alone, but when I recovered and learned what he’d done, I knew there would be far more death before that anger would be allowed to leave him.
One by one, we killed, we stole, we ruled with a fear we once had for others.
But fear has a way of changing you. And I would be a liar to say I wasn’t motivated by it now.
I’m afraid I’m going to lose the only woman worth fighting for. The only woman I’m capable of loving.
The thick leather groans as Jase leans back, rubbing his thumb over his jaw and tells me, “It’ll be all right when this is over. She’ll be all right in time.”
“Or she’ll be consumed by anger,” I say and give him a knowing look, but the expression on his face doesn’t waver.
“She loves you,” is his only response.
I break his gaze to stare at the fire, wondering how long it’ll take for a flame so high and hot to burn down to nothing but ash and smolder.
“I didn’t come to talk about her.”
“It’s all about her, isn’t it?” he questions and my chest tightens. If I could go back to that moment and tell him not to fight for revenge, if I could go back and instead take my brothers and leave that horrid place, I would. I’m not proud of who we’ve become and I know it’s because of me.