Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I consider whether I want to wade into the meaning behind that statement, and ultimately decide it’s not my fucking business. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Sure, I’ll start now. Don’t get fucking killed because you’re thinking with your cock. I get it with her, because Harlow’s priorities are obviously in order. But we have a whole lot of history with Eli, and the good doesn’t outweigh the bad. You’d know that if you weren’t all fucked in the head whenever it comes to him.”
“He didn’t know about the fire.”
Cohen snorts. “You say that like it matters. His father and his people did it. If he didn’t know, that just means he’s incompetent. It doesn’t absolve blame.”
This is the other component of choosing to keep Eli—my brothers. Some of them will be more open to the idea than others, and that’s a whole different battlefield to step onto.
It won’t be necessary if Eli’s betrayed me. Again.
No, damn it, no. He hasn’t. I honestly believe that.
I still want to stalk upstairs, drag him out of bed, and shake him until he gives me some answers.
I take another long drink of coffee. I have to keep my head in the game. Right now, the priority is getting Old Town’s official response and checking off that box. Once they’ve publicly declared their support, I can deal with Eli and his people. If he doesn’t give them up…
I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe offer them exile, but I won’t be able to trust that the fuckers leave without some kind of proof. Exile didn’t keep me and my brothers out of Sabine Valley indefinitely, after all.
A problem to deal with this afternoon.
Add it to the fucking list.
31
Eli
I try to go back to sleep, but the conversation with Marie still bothers me. It should be as simple as I gave her an order and she’ll follow it, but I also gave her several orders since Lammas that she ignored. For her to stay out of the compound. For her to wait for my next move. She ignored all of them. I stew on that for far too long, running possibilities and not liking what I come up with. Ninety percent of the outcomes end with Marie striking on her own without my input.
I open my eyes and sit up. Harlow makes sleepy sound of protest next to me, but then she opens her eyes. There is no easing into wakefulness with her. She’s asleep one moment and fully coherent the next.
She frowns up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I may have fucked up.” It pains me to admit it, but it’s glaringly clear that this isn’t the first time. “Again.”
Harlow sits up. “What’s wrong?” she repeats. “What did you do?”
My instinct is to stay silent and take care of it myself, but I’ve tried doing it that way, and I almost lost Harlow as a result. Still, it takes more effort than it should for me to form the proper words. “Marie was in the compound last night.”
“What?”
I hate the look on her face, the suspicion. “She left a note in my room, and so I had to meet her. I wasn’t plotting.”
Harlow stares at me a long moment. “Did you tell her and the others to stand by?”
Guilt flares, hot and poisonous. “Yes, on the first day. Last night I told her it was over. That I’m not going to fight Abel, and neither are they.”
“Eli.” Harlow drags her hand over her face. “What the hell were you thinking? No, don’t answer that. I know what you were thinking.” She flings the covers off us and climbs out of bed. “You have to tell Abel.”
“He’ll think I’m plotting against him.”
“You were plotting against him.” She turns around, glorious and fierce and naked in the late morning light. “Do you love me? Do you love him?”
I open my mouth to form the safe answer, but we’ve gone much too far for safe. Trying to withhold anything will result in losing the possibility of the future I’ve barely dared imagine. I’ll lose Harrow for real. I’ll lose Abel before I’ve truly come to terms with having him back in my life. I take a slow breath that does nothing to steady me. “Yes. Yes, to both.”
“You have to tell him.” She looks at the clock next to the bed and curses. “He’ll be going into Old Town soon. How likely is it that Marie will decide today’s the day to strike?”
I think back over our conversation and grimace. “Likely enough. She’ll know that Old Town is delivering their official answer today. There’s no telling when Abel will next be out of the compound, and she’s not the most patient sort. She has the time and place and opportunity. It might be months before another chance presents itself.”