“I have no objections to showing it to you on a regular basis.”
I slap my hand over her arse cheek and squeeze. “Move up, Bonny. I want to lie with you.”
Bleu slides up the couch and I stretch next to her. We’re facing one another. She hitches her leg over mine and snuggles close. She traces the tip of her finger from my hairline down my forehead, the bridge of my nose, stopping at my lips. She moves her finger back and forth over my bottom one. “I love this mouth.”
“This mouth has a confession.”
A wrinkle appears across her brow. “Okay.”
I think she’s worried about what she’s going to hear from me. She should be. I’ve had a lot of whisky and my tongue is loose.
“I’m a selfish bastard. I’m certain you’ve never met a bigger one. That means I don’t want to share you with anyone. The thought of another having you this way… it sends me into hysteria. I think I might kill any man who dared touch you.”
She says nothing but leans forward to kiss my mouth. Her hand strokes my leg, not at the top close to my cock. It’s near my amputation.
My divulgence isn’t over. “I may never let you go, Bonny Bleu.”
“I doubt your Fellowship-approved wife will care for that.” Oh. She’s going to bring that up, huh?
“She’ll like it about as much as your husband will.” I know it’s irrational to be angry about a future that has nothing to do with the present—and is likely a hoax—but the thought of Bleu one day having another man as her husband pisses me off. It feels like a betrayal she’s yet to commit, but I know it’s coming.
“Sin.” She props her head in her hand. “You sound like you’re mad at me.”
Do I dare admit it?
Aye, I do. “Hell yeah, I’m angry. You’re going to be with someone else.”
She hits my uninjured shoulder with her fist. “Why are you getting pissed off at me? You’re going to be with someone else too. And soon—with babies. You’ll have everything I desperately want but will probably never have. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
She thinks this doesn’t bother me as well? “No worries. You and your husband can thaw out your wee one whenever you decide you’re ready to welcome him or her into the world.”
“Frozen eggs are more susceptible to damage during the freezing process. I didn’t have a highly successful retrieval. That means my chances for having babies aren’t good.”
I wouldn’t have done the reading had I known it was going to cause a problem between us. “Psychics aren’t real. None of that stuff she said is true.”
“I didn’t need a psychic to tell me you’re going to be a stupid crime boss lording over a bunch of dumb-asses. Or that you’re going to allow them to dictate who you can and can’t be with.” She sits up and spins around so her back is turned. She leans forward with her head in her hands. “I’m thinking about you being with somebody else and now I’m pissed off.”
“Is it nuts to say it feels like a betrayal?” I ask.
“It totally does. I have an aching throb deep in my chest.”
She doesn’t have to describe it. I know the exact feeling.
I put my arm around Bleu’s waist and pull her to lie next to me again. “We didn’t need a fake or real psychic to tell us we won’t last forever. That’s a given, but we have this time together. Let’s make the most of it.”
I drape my arm over her body and pull her close. My cheek is pressed against her back and I feel her body shudder. She’s crying. I rub my hand over the back of her hair. “Shh… please, don’t.”
Crying women have never fazed me but Bleu crying… that’s something different. I don’t take it lightly. This isn’t a performance. She isn’t shedding tears with an ulterior motive in mind. This is her coming to terms with the fact that we’ll be over soon.
I don’t know when it happened but I’ve fallen completely and madly in love with this woman. I could be out of my mind but I think she may love me too. It’s an unexpected surprise considering what an unlovable bastard I am.
We’re not over. I refuse to accept any future that doesn’t include Bleu. I will not give up the best thing that’s ever happened to me, not for anything or anyone. Now I must figure out a way to work this out with The Fellowship.
The woman sitting across the table gave birth to me, yet she’s practically a stranger. We resided in the same house most of my life but I have very few memories of being parented by Isobel Breckenridge. I don’t know her, yet she’s the only person I want to talk to right now.
“I asked you to join me for breakfast because I need advice, and I feel you’re the only one I can trust with this.”
She’s smiling, appearing pleased. “Yer talking aboot Bleu?”
I nod. “I’ve not spoken to Abram since our altercation but I’m certain he hasn’t changed his mind. I don’t see him letting this go.”
“Ye knew that before ye chose tae start seeing her. I dinnae know why yer surprised.”
“Abram reacted just as I expected.” My own response is the one that surprises me. “I never intended for our relationship to mean anything. It was only about…” She knows what my intentions were. I don’t have to say the words.
“But then yer feelings evolved.”
I won’t insult my mum by denying what’s happening between Bleu and me. “What do I do?”
“Expect complications—great large ones.”
That’s not helpful. I’m well aware of the problem I have on my hands. “Trouble is a given.”
“I can think of one solution tae all of this madness.” She grins while lifting a brow. “Recite rule number two of The Fellowship code.”
“You must never violate the wife or children of another member.” Is she suggesting what I think she is?
“Marry her. She would become part of the brotherhood and then no one could say a word aboot her not being one of us.”
I’ve never heard of a member forcing the approval of an outsider by any means. “Has it ever been done?”
“Never.”
“I don’t think that would sway the brotherhood to accept her.”
“Maybe not, but no one could harm her.”
It’s such an extreme measure. “We’ve only known each other for two months.”
“I knew yer father for eighteen years. What did it get me?”
If I had to marry, Bleu would definitely be the only prospect—but I don’t want to, and neither does she. It would ruin everything. “It would be like marrying so we could date.”
“People have done it for less. At least ye love her. And it would keep her safe.”
Am I that transparent? “I never claimed to be in love with her.”
“I dinnae need tae hear ye say the words.” She adds a sugar cube to her coffee and smirks. “Are ye going tae tell me yer too blind tae see that she loves ye too?”
Does she? I don’t know; she’s never said so. Whether she does is of little consequence. “Married or not, the brothers will never accept her.”
Isobel Breckenridge pushes her shoulders back and sits straighter. Her expression clearly changes. “Ye will step intae yer father’s role as The Fellowship’s leader. That means ye never have tae request their permission and ye damn sure don’t ask for their forgiveness.” She points her finger at me and I see a fire in her eyes, one I’ve never noticed before. “Ye make the rules… because yer the ruler. Not the other way around.”
I’m not their leader yet. “I’m afraid Abram will get to her.”
“Ye should be afraid. He won’t blink an eye at killing her. But he cannae touch a hair on her head if she’s yer wife. It’s a sovereign code among the brothers even he wouldn’t dare break.”
“Marriage is too extreme.”
“If ye dinnae love the girl enough tae keep her safe, then tell her goodbye. And soon.”
“I’m neither prepared to marry nor say goodbye to her.”
“Ye brought Bleu into oor circle and put her in dange
r. It’s yer responsibility tae protect her at any cost. The manner in which ye do it is up tae you, but heed ma warning. Don’t allow Abram tae make the decision for ye. He has plans of his own and it won’t end well for that lass.”
If she knows something, she has to tell me. “What are his intentions?”
“He wants ye tae marry Westlyn.”
What? “I can’t marry her. She’s my cousin.” As if I really need to explain this.
“Not by blood.”
I know Abram was adopted but he’s out of his mind if he thinks I’d consider marrying his daughter, a lass I very much consider family. “Why does he think I’d want to do that? Being with her would feel like incest.”
“He has no consideration for what ye or Westlyn want. He only considers himself. But just so ye know, she isn’t opposed tae the union. In fact, she’s very much in favor of it. He’s groomed her for a long time, making her believe she’d be yer wife one day.”
Abram will never have a chance at being leader. It’s something that’s always eaten at him and he thinks being my father-in-law will bring him another step closer to the leadership role. He wants to be my puppeteer. Too bad for him—I’m no one’s minion.
I’ve loved Abram as an uncle my entire life. I couldn’t see him for his true self when I was a child, but that isn’t the case anymore. The rose-colored glasses are off.
I won’t be forced into a marriage. When I decide to take a wife, it’ll be because it’s my decision. “I have a lot to consider.”
“If ye don’t listen tae anything else I say, hear this,” my mum says. “Backing down tae Abram will be the biggest mistake ye’ll ever make. It’s yer responsibility tae stand up and put him in his place early. Show The Fellowship ye will not be manipulated. I fear for the structure of the brotherhood if ye dinnae.”
Chapter 21
Bleu MacAllister
Sin left without a word this morning. Or a kiss. Only a handwritten note in place of his warm body that should’ve been next to me. I suspect it has something to do with last night’s incident. I could’ve been crying for any number of reasons, but I wasn’t. And he knows. I don’t want this relationship to come to an end. I’m certain that’s why he didn’t kiss me when he left this morning. He’s disgusted by my display of vulnerability. He has to be; Sinclair Breckenridge isn’t attracted to weakness.
It’s very likely I’ve blown the facade—the one where I’m not attached to him. Or in love. A stupid woman. That’s what I am. And it’s all his fault for making me love him.
Good morning, Bonny Bleu. You were sleeping so peacefully, I couldn’t bear to wake you, even for your morning kiss. I wonder what you could have possibly been dreaming about.
S
“I was dreaming of you, Sin—always you.”
I fall back onto the bed, the note against my chest. These aren’t the words of a man preparing to tell me to leave. They are… endearing. And I’m relieved. That’s the only word to describe what I’m feeling.
It’s Monday. That means it’s call day to Harry.
Since the intruder, Sin is always certain to lock the door when he leaves, but I follow procedure and inspect it anyway. The last thing I need is him slipping in unnoticed while I’m retrieving my phone or using it to talk to my dad.
It’s clear, so I peel the tape away and free my burner phone from its hiding place beneath the bedside table. Although Harry understands, I hate calling at this time—it’s the middle of the night for him. He needs all the rest he can get but this is my safest time of the day to talk.
Things would’ve gone much differently if Harry weren’t sick. I would’ve gotten a couple more years of undercover experience beneath my belt but more importantly, he’d be here with me. That has always been the plan. Thane was always going to be my kill but Harry was coming to do this job with me. We were going to be a team.
Fuck cancer and the horse it rode in on.
Ellison answers Dad’s burner and my heart plunges. I immediately know something is wrong. He’d never give it to her unless his health had taken a turn for the worse. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t freak out. Everything’s fine.”
Bullshit. “Everything’s not fine if you’re answering this phone.” I’m imagining the worst so I take a cleansing breath and blow it out slowly. “How bad is he?” She doesn’t reply. “Elli! Answer me. Now.”
“Hold on to your horses.” I’m barely able to make out what she’s saying because she’s using her quiet voice. “I’m stepping into the hall so I can talk without waking him.”
I’m right. Harry is in the hospital. “When did he go in?”
“Two days ago. He was originally diagnosed with pneumonia but they ruled that out yesterday. It’s radiation pneumonitis.”
My sister sometimes forgets that she’s a nurse and I’m not. I don’t speak medical language so I have no clue what radiation pneumo-whatever is. “Explanation, please. Dumb it down in terms I’m able to comprehend.”
“It’s an infection of the lungs caused by his radiation treatments.”
But he hasn’t had radiation in weeks… unless he’s been lying to me. “When was his last treatment?”
“Six weeks ago.” Okay. I feel remotely better knowing he hasn’t been lying. “It’s normal for there to be a delay in the onset of the infection.”
I was afraid something like this would happen while I was away. “Is this serious? Do I need to come home?”
“He’ll be okay. They’re treating him with steroids to decrease the inflammation. I expect him to be released today or tomorrow, depending on what his white count looks like.” That’s a blood test indicating how infected he is. That much, I know.
“He’s stable. I don’t anticipate anything happening soon but we need a plan in case I’m the one who needs to reach out to you. I might not be able to wait on you to call home. Can you please give me your handler’s information?”
She’s aware of the risk that poses. “Ellison, you know that’s not a good idea.”
“But what if something emergent happens and I need you? You aren’t checking in with him often. And if he declines, he isn’t going to tell you. I don’t want something bad to happen and then have to wait on your weekly call to tell you.”
I already feel like shit without her reminding me what a terrible daughter I am.
“He says this assignment is the most important op of your career and we can’t jeopardize that, but I need to tell you something, Bleu. I’m here alone with him and it’s not fair. I’m scared.” Her voice cracks. “I don’t want to be by myself if things go wrong.” I remember how bad it was with Mom. We had each other to lean on and it isn’t fair for me to leave all this on her shoulders.
Now I’m crying. “I just need a little more time and then I can come home.”
“Please, hurry. Get your job done and get here as soon as you can.”
Elli doesn’t understand what’s going on; she’s in the dark. She’s unaware I no longer work for the Bureau or that I’ve gone freelance. “I’m going to give you a cell number, but no name. It’s a safety measure.” I call off the contact number for Debra. “A woman will answer. When she does, you’ll tell her you’re having a problem with your account: alpha three one four delta seven nine.”
“Hang on. I’ll never remember that if I don’t write it down.”
Amazing. She has all that medical shit floating around in her brain but she can’t remember a series of numbers without writing it down for the wrong person to find. “Fine. Write it down on a single piece of paper using your palm to bear down on. No notepad where the impression can be seen. Once you memorize it, destroy the paper. No storing the number anywhere.” She says nothing and it’s because I know what she’s planning. She’ll put this in her phone in her notes. “I mean it, Elli. This is serious. Your head is the only place these numbers can be stored.”
“I got it, Bleu.” Smart-ass.
“Tell Dad I called and that I love him,�
� I say. “I’ll call again as soon as I’m able.”
“Please try to as soon as possible. He’ll be nuts because he didn’t get to talk to you.” She groans. “I dread telling him you called; he’s going to be pissed I didn’t wake him.”
“Blame it on me. Tell him I told you not to because I want him to get his rest. I’ll try tomorrow if I’m able to get away.”
I end the call before I completely lose it. By saying that, I don’t mean I just cry. I go nuts—cussing at the top of my lungs, kicking the couch, throwing myself onto the sofa and screaming into the cushion.
I feel strong arms circle me from behind and I’m pressed into the couch. “Stop fighting me.” It’s Sinclair’s voice next to my ear. “It’s okay, Bonny. It’s me. I’m the only one here with you. No one else.” My body relaxes, as does his.
He presses his lips to the bare skin of my back above my nightgown. “It’s just us—only me and you.”
“I’m sorry,” I cry. “So sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He gets up and I twist around. He sits on the sofa and pulls me onto his lap, looping his arm around my waist. “Tell me about it.”
I shrug. “Tell you what?” I ask, aware that it isn’t going to fly with him but it gives me a minute to think of a lie.
“What—or who—forces you to always be on the defensive, ready to fight without a moment’s notice?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.
“Come on, Bleu. We’re beyond this.”
“Beyond what?”
“Lies.” He rubs his hand up and down my arm before kissing my shoulder. “You can always tell me the truth. Don’t you know that by now?”
I can’t. The truth will get me killed.
Sin’s left me no choice. He’s asking for an explanation about my constant defensive behavior and I have to say something. “I was attacked by a man when I was younger. I fought him off but I’ve never been able to put it behind me. It triggered something inside. I’ve had an irrational fear of being held down, among other things, since it happened.”
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