She doesn’t move. “Even if that means Broderick is involved?”
My body flushes hot and then cold. I was so incredibly reckless last night, but I can’t quite bring myself to regret it. “He’s my best friend. I don’t want to ruin that.” I don’t mean to say it, but I don’t mean to say a lot of things when it comes to Monroe. She has this way of pulling back my layers and shining the light on the parts of me I keep close to my heart. It’s unnerving in the extreme.
“You won’t,” she answers so easily, I almost believe her.
It’s tempting, so goddamned tempting, to tell her that I don’t want Broderick to be involved. I can’t be that selfish, though. Not only would it be a lie, but it would ultimately endanger Monroe herself. She and Broderick need to figure things out in order to preserve peace. That is more important than anything, even my potential heartbreak.
It’s just sex.
No reason to complicate things more simply because I’m scared.
I swallow hard. “Then yes, even if it means Broderick’s involved.” A small part of me can’t help wondering if maybe blowing up our old friendship is the only way to fix it. I miss him. I miss him showing up, seemingly at random, during my night shifts sometimes, and keeping me company. I miss the long meandering conversations we used to have, ones about everything and nothing, but felt so fucking safe because Broderick always cared about what I had to say. I miss the movie nights, and the after-shift drinks, and having him drag me to some hole in the wall pub he discovered.
I just flat out miss him.
“It’s hard when a friendship jumps the tracks and you don’t know how to get it back, isn’t it?”
The question sounds sincere enough, so I answer honestly. “It’s the worst.”
“Stick with me, love. We’ll figure it out.”
The elevator doors open before I can summon a response, which is just as well. Falling to my knees and begging her to touch me so I can stop thinking so fucking hard about things best left alone is out of the question. I manage to hold it together as I follow Monroe out of the elevator and down the hall to her office.
We barely get a chance to settle in before her mother arrives.
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen her in the last two weeks; Aisling Rhodius is a terrifying woman. On the surface she’s no different than any other posh CEO with expensive style and a ton of money invested in her appearance. But beneath? Every time she looks at me, I can practically see her categorizing all the ways she can kill me with the fountain pen in her hand. She wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t blink, and once she’d taken me down, she’d methodically ensure any evidence of my presence disappeared from the face of this city.
She would certainly kill me if she knew the truth about me.
I can definitely see this woman ordering a squad of her people to slip into Raider territory and set a strategic fire to their base, one that blocked the exits and ensured mass casualties. I’ve heard the story; it’s a damn miracle Broderick and his brothers escaped.
She narrows icy eyes in my direction, but her words are for her daughter. “I need to speak with you.”
Monroe doesn’t look up from the paperwork she’s paging through. “You know the rules, Mother. Shiloh has to stay, or the Paine brothers will get cranky.”
Aisling gives me another long look, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s mentally murdered me and shoved me out a window. She finally sighs. “Very well. I have it on good authority that Abel Paine threatened your life yesterday.”
“I see.” Monroe pauses, a paper still in her hand. She doesn’t look at me, which is just as well. I didn’t even know that happened until Broderick told us. How the fuck did Aisling find out? Monroe hasn’t had any contact with her; if she had, there’d be no reason for Aisling to inform her now.
“Either handle the situation, or I will.”
At that, Monroe shakes off her surprise. She narrows her green eyes and pushes to her feet. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Aisling doesn’t move. She’s got a few inches on Monroe, is closer to my height, and she uses it to her full advantage. “I will respect the rules of Lammas and the Bridal handfasting, but that only goes so far. You are the Amazon heir, and I will not have you threatened by Raider scum.”
“Being fucked by one of them is fine, though.”
The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. “There is no shame in being a Bride. It’s an ancient tradition, one that’s kept our faction from war more than a few times. There’s a reason that tradition endures and it will be respected.”