Page 85 of Wicked Queen

“Damaged?” I asked in a hollow voice. What the hell did that mean?

“It means we’ve taken a bullet.”

“Why would he require that?” Edward had shut his laptop and was hanging on Georgia’s every word.

“Because he knows we can,” she said with a shrug. “Step in front of a bullet, I mean.”

Belle had a tea cup poised at her lips. “Wow.”

“Everywhere?” I clarified.

“Right now,” Georgia said. “He only lets up when he’s with you.”

“Because he’s damaged,” I said softly.

She nodded with dangerous eyes. “You know he’d step in front of a bullet for you. He already has.”

David, who hadn’t spoken up until now, broke in angrily, “You’re all shit at party planning.”

“He has a point,” Edward said, laughing uneasily. Belle joined him. But a cloud had descended over the room.

“Excuse me.” I headed to my bathroom and hung my head over my sink, uncertain if I was going to vomit or not.

“You okay?” Georgia asked from behind me.

I looked at the mirror, her reflection distorted by my tears. “You don’t have to do this,” I told her. “You’re here because he wants you nearby.”

She groaned and pushed off from the door frame. Then, Georgia Kincaid did the last thing I ever expected. She hugged me.

If I’d ever bothered to imagine what it would feel like for Georgia to hug me, I would have expected it to be quick and uneasy. But she held me tightly, letting me cry.

“We’re friends, happy?” she whispered. “God, this feels stupid. I don’t even know if I’m doing it right.”

I pulled away, wiping at my eyes and she grabbed a tissue from the counter. “You did fine,” I said, taking it from her.

“Clara, you always knew why we’re there.”

“I knew, but I didn’t know about the damaged bit. I didn’t know that he…”

“Yeah, you did,” she said. “That man would die for you in a second and thank you with his last breath.”

“It’s not that.” It was difficult to explain. “Every moment, he’s worried. Even when we’re together. He’s always waiting for the next shot. How do you let someone love you that much?”

“I don’t know. I’m not experienced in that department.”

“Brex,” I started.

“He’s a soldier. It doesn’t really count. He runs toward the fire, you know? Besides, we never…

“You never?” I repeated, suddenly distracted.

“Some of us can control our libidos.” She cocked her head toward the door. “You need some time alone, or shall we go back to planning Princess Temper Tantrum’s party?”

I shook my head. “That nickname...”

“It’s a work in progress,” she said as we joined the others.

We’d nailed the important details by dinner, but Alexander hadn’t appeared by the time my friends said goodbye. I sought him out, but he wasn’t in his office. I finally found him, wandering the grounds, deep in thought.