I wait for her to finish chastising me, but I arch my brow because she knows it’s not that simple. Once she stops, I ask, “You good now? You get it all out of your system?”
“Don’t come in ‘ere asking me no fuckery like dat. Explain what happened, Sebastian, and how the fuck you made my friend hurt enough that she packed up after fighting all this time and left,” she demands, and now I feel like a proper dick.
My jaw flexes at the reminder of her. I’ve been doing everything to not see that look on her face. The shock and disbelief. The betrayal-the fucking betrayal. It’s hard to stomach that Emma’s out there somewhere thinking we don’t all want her-that
I don’t want her, again, when that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Even when I was in denial, she was mine.
Remembering why I’m here, I push my intrusive thoughts aside. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I pause, ensuring she accepts my apology before continuing. “We were all waiting for Karl to arrive at the Fraternitas so we could officially choose Emma when Rowan got a text and demanded we make our choice immediately.”
Shay sits and listens as I finish giving her the play-by-play of the events that have occurred over the past two weeks-the one that caused Emma to leave us. “How is that bitch still alive?” She shouts, nearly catapulting from her spot on the bed.
“You have to relax. I can’t have Emma out for my blood because you hurt yourself,” I plead. “And to answer your question-our hands are tied until Karl’s back. Once he’s back, all bets are off.” I hiss with such vehemence Shay looks momentarily stunned.
I watch the moment Shay pieces it all together as I try to reign in my anger. “Ry left before you had the chance to explain.”
“Yes,” I reply somewhat more calmly. Shay looks at me, understanding without words that my rage is in no way directed at her.
“And you can’t reach her because she cut you assholes off faster than the government does when you make half a cent more than allowed for benefits, didn’t she?”
I derisively snort. “Also, yes.”
“Now you’re here to have me reach out to her and explain what’s going on so she can bring her stubborn ass back here?”
“No,” I sigh, shaking my head as I aggressively run my fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots-exasperated by the chokehold being placed on us.
Shay’s brown eyes narrow to slits. “Why the hell not?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, highly aware of how often I’ve been doing this lately. “Because it’s not safe.”
“But if she knew-.”
“She’d come back to fight,” I finish.
Shay hangs her head and huffs before meeting my gaze again. Resigned acceptance lines her face, and her lip curls up in disgust. “As soon as I’m well enough, I’m beating the lip filler out of that bitch,” she declares, and I laugh, then cough to try and cover it up, feeling guilt settle in the pit of my stomach for finding any joy without Emma around.
“I need to know Emma’s okay,” I confess.
“That would be a lie,” Shay states.
I have to close my eyes and clench my fists to stave off the maelstrom of feelings garnered from that statement.
Of course, it’s a lie.
One I was ready to believe for the sake of easing my self-pity.
“She’s not okay, far from actually, but she will be. She’s strong. She needs time, and until you dumb fucks get this all under control, you’ll all give her that,” Shay instructs, and it’s my turn to accept what has to be done, as bitter as it may taste.
Opening my eyes, I stand. “We will. Just promise not to tell her anything about what’s going on.”
“I swear,” she says too quickly for my liking.
“None of it, Shay-not even a Freudian slip of the tongue.”
She rolls her eyes, “I said I won’t. Now get the hell out. I need to rest, so I can get well enough to check unruly skanks that take what doesn’t belong to them.”
My lip quirks at her fire. I’m glad my spitfire has her. Then I head for the Tombs. It’s time for some zesty interrogations.
* * *
I enter the room, and it doesn’t feel the same. The Tombs isn’t the Tombs without Karl’s energy in here, especially when it comes to interrogations.
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, just don’t let him near me,” Antonio begs, pointing to Liam.
Snickers break out. “It seems your reputation precedes you, Liamon,” I exclaim.
“It’s too bad O’s not here to see that I’m the more terrifying one,” Liam states, his tone subarctic.
I pull my suit jacket off then hang it on the hook by the door before unbuttoning my sleeves and rolling them to my elbows. “Did you know I have a flare for the dramatic when it comes to things such as this?” I taunt, grabbing Karl’s knife.
Antonio shakes his head, and I delight in his inability to respond verbally.
“He definitely does. The last time he was in charge, we had a man strapped to a wheel and played darts,” Rowan smirks, picking up another knife.
“Look, I said I’d tell you everything,” Antonio begins, but August’s fist to his face silences him.
“We expected no less. However, we’re going to do this my way,” I dictate.
Liam and August pick up Karl’s other two knives.
“Since Karl can’t be here,” I growl. “I thought it would only be right if we used his favorite form of play so he could be here in spirit.” I examine the blade in my hand before continuing, “You see, Karl likes knives, and the screams of pain, and the rest of us have varied tastes,” I announce, tipping my head toward the guys.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Liam snarks.
Shrugging, I reply, “True,” which makes Rowan chuckle. I focus my gaze on Antonio and ask, “Would you like to know what those tastes are?”
“No,” Antonio stutters. “Please, let me just tell you everything.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.