Page 70 of Then We Shatter

What I’m doing feels right, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t plagued with doubt. Which is why I don’t notice the fist flying at me. Grace has just got to the part in her story where I held her at gunpoint and Duke’s punch glances off my cheek. I’m more than happy to reciprocate and vent some of my own anger and frustration, but Calder inserts himself between us.

“Now isn’t the time.”

“Threaten Grace again, Killian and you’ll be the one dodging bullets,” Duke snarls over Calder’s shoulder.

The nerve of this guy. “I was never going to hurt her. Katarina would’ve killed me. And let’s not forget you pulled a fucking gun on Kitty too!”

I suspect not many people know how he’d completely lost it after Rory’s accident. And speaking of the devil…

“I think that’s enough bickering,” Rory says, appearing from the tunnel connecting the tent to the marquee. This guy’s a true gent and it takes all his self-control not to roll his eyes at me. “So, boys, how do we get out of this mess?”

“It’s simple,” I reply. “Someone’s going to sneak me into the house so I can speak to Katarina.”

“And then he’s going to leave,” Grace adds.

Bless her for her optimism. “Sure.”

Duke checks his watch. “You get ten minutes, Killian. No more. There’s no time to argue,” he says and I’d have to agree. No argument is going to stop me taking much longer than ten minutes. To the rest of the group, he adds, “We’ve got to get him in and out of the house before eight o’clock.”

There’s some debate about who’s going to sneak me into Katarina’s room, and they settle on Calder.

“Are you armed?” I ask him.

“We all are,” Duke answers, and when the girl in his arms looks horrified, he kisses the top of her head. “We’re being cautious, that’s all. It’s only one mad Irishman.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Unless you’re not alone?”

“Just yours truly.”

My smile is harder to come by as I watch Duke with his girl in his arms. He can kiss her, openly and without judgement because he’s a Moncrief and tomorrow he’ll be free to do whatever the fuck he wants. That’s what you get for being born into the right kind of family.

Why is it so damn hard for me to see a future where I could love Katarina openly? I can’t even be open with my own family. Which reminds me.

“And when you lads snitch on me to Ash,” I say, addressing Rory in particular, “I’d be obliged if you asked the Griffins not to tell Dad I was here.” I’m not sure how tonight will go exactly, but if I do have to run back to Vegas with my tail between my legs, I don’t want my family knowing the full extent of my stupidity. “If he asks, Katarina was fooling around with some handsome devil of a hairdresser, but you never met him.”

There’s a low whistle from Calder. “Two warring families. Two star-crossed lovers. Someone should write a story about that.”

He’s not wrong, but we all know how Romeo and Juliet ends. “Fuck off, gobshite.”

Before I don my wig and leave, I remove the cake covered in pink frosting from the cake box and slap it face down onto a serving cart. Something tells me adding the last tier to Katarina’s cake has moved down the list of everyone’s priorities, and it would be a waste to leave my stash.

“Are they grenades?” asks Grace.

“Smoke bombs,” I clarify as I unbutton my tuxedo jacket and add them to my utility belt. Thankfully, no one asks if I’ve hidden anything in the rest of the cake that’s sitting proud in the marquee. I may still need a distraction later. “You never know when they’re going to come in handy.”

“I’d ask that you don’t use them on us,” says Rory, “but apparently you’re not above threatening the people who are meant to be your allies.”

“Jeez, can everyone stop giving me a hard time about a little bump in the car? You don’t look any worse for it.”

All goes quiet and I look up from fixing my jacket.

“What?”

“You crashed into me?” Rory asks.

Shit. He was talking about Grace. “It was a gentle bump.”

“A gentle bump?” he repeats. I’ve never seen Rory pink up so fast. “You totaled my fucking car!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a piss poor driver, Rory,” I say, deflecting the evil stares from him and Calder. “It was a little reminder to lovesick Duke here to keep to the script. Vasili was threatening to recall Katarina back to Russia.” I turn to Duke. “Tell them.”