Page 36 of Brick’s Anchor

"Yeah," I say. "I'm okay with it. Are you?"

"I'm about to get lectured by my president about mixing protection details with personal feelings." He cups my face. "And I don't give a single fuck about any of it. So yeah. I'm okay with it."

"What's the worst they can do?"

"Technically? Kick me out of the club."

My stomach drops. "They wouldn't—"

"They won't. Phoenix doesn't work like that. But they're going to make their position very clear about whether they think this is a good idea."

"And if they don't think it's a good idea?"

"Then they'll be wrong." He says it with such certainty that something in my chest warms. "But we should probably get dressed and face the music before they send someone less polite than Ranger to drag us down there."

We get out of bed. I look around for my clothes and realize they're scattered across his floor. My borrowed shirt near the door. The sweatpants by the bed. My panties… Oh God, my panties are hanging off his desk lamp.

Brick follows my gaze and grins. "That's a good look."

"Shut up." I grab them and get dressed quickly. He does the same, pulling on jeans and a fresh shirt.

"Your cut," I say. "I was wearing it when we came up here but then—"

"You took it off at some point." He shrugs. "I'll get it later. Not important right now."

We head downstairs together. The common room is occupied but not crowded. Eden and Canvas are at the kitchen counter with coffee. Nora and Grace are at the dining table with coloring books. A few of the other rescued women are on the couch, looking more rested than yesterday but still exhausted.

And Phoenix and Judge are waiting near the bar, both of them with expressions that make it very clear this is not a casual conversation.

"Brick. Rosie." Phoenix's voice is neutral. Presidential. "Let's talk in my office."

We follow him. Judge comes too. The office is small but organized: desk, chairs, filing cabinet, map of Millhaven on the wall with various marks that probably represent Iron Phoenix holdings.

Phoenix sits behind his desk. Judge leans against the wall. Brick and I take the chairs across from Phoenix.

"So," Phoenix says. "Last night was loud."

I want to die. Actually die. Sink through the floor and cease to exist.

Brick, however, doesn't even flinch. "Yeah. It was."

"You want to explain what the fuck you were thinking?" Judge asks. His voice isn't angry. Just concerned. "She just got out of a trafficking situation. She's traumatized. Vulnerable. And you decided the appropriate response was to sleep with her?"

"I made it very clear she could stop at any time. I asked for consent multiple times. She was the one in control the entire time."

Phoenix leans back in his chair. "Look, I get it. I really do. You think I don't remember falling for Ivy within days? She showed up at four in the morning running from Cole, and I knew almost immediately she was it for me. Judge, you met Nora and Grace at eleven PM at a bus station and by morning you were ready to die for them both."

Judge's expression softens slightly. "That's different. We waited—"

"You waited forty-eight hours before sleeping with Nora," Phoenix interrupts. "Canvas and Eden got together after knowing each other for less than 48 hours too. This club seems to specialize in fast attachments during crisis situations."

"Exactly my point," Judge says. "Crisis situations. Heightened emotions. Trauma bonding. Are we sure what's happening here is real and not just a response to extreme circumstances?"

"Was what you felt for Nora just a response to circumstances?" Brick asks. "Or was it real?"

Judge is silent for a moment. "It was real. From the first moment I saw her scared and protecting Grace. But I also made sure to give her space. Made sure she was ready. Made sure—"

"I did make sure," Brick says. "Multiple times. I gave her every opportunity to stop. To say no. She didn't. Because she wanted it. Because we both needed it."