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I think I fucked up with my younger sister. Mac stopped coming to me, and I took that as a sign she was coming into her own. Maybe she just didn't bother anymore. Her relationship with our half-brother is strained, but I always thought they'd get back to who they were when they were kids.
"Dante? Are you okay?" Aelia asks, stepping in front of me.
I swallow hard, anxiety spiking inside me. Shaking my head, I don't know how to answer her. Something is wrong, or maybe I just realize how much I let everyone in my life down.
I was a shit president, trying to change the fundamentals of our club. I was a shit brother, ignoring my sister's concerns and my brother's outbursts. I even was shit at being a friend, dropping off the radar when it came to Helms. I thought it would be easier, but maybe it was just easier for me.
"I'm fine." My throat is tight and I'm barely able to get the words out.
Glancing at Aelia, I wonder how I'll let her down. Will she end up paying the ultimate price for my own shitty behavior? I won't survive that. My life would crumble around me, breaking me into a million pieces and scattering me to the furthest corners of the earth. I'll never recover if I fail her.
"Dante?"
I run my finger down the deep grove between her brows, smoothing her skin until the lines soften. Concern still swirls in her chocolate eyes, but I can't do anything about it. Nothing I say will assuage her fears. If anything, I'll only add to them.
The door behind me opens, and the spell between us is broken. I step to the side, pulling Aelia with me. The woman, Avery, yelps when she lifts her head, light eyes fixed on Jag. I almost don't recognize her with the dirt washed from her blonde hair.
"Stop staring," Aelia hisses, and I turn my head away.
"Avery, what the hell are you doing here?" Jag growls, glaring at her.
My eyes dart to Avery and she transforms. Her spine straightens and she clutches the towel to her body. Her eyes narrow, becoming shards of ice ready to cut him down to size.
"Fuck you, Jag. The last week has been a shitshow and your first words to me aren't asking if I'm okay? Not making sure I'm not losing my mind or was hurt? No, you go straight to blaming me for being in this hellhole. Well, fuck you."
He smirks, but it holds an edge of something else to it. "You said fuck you twice. Can't come up with a better comeback?"
"You insufferable, arrogant, selfish asshole." Each insult is punctuated with a slap of her bare feet on the hardwoods as she invades his space. "Get the fuck out."
She flings her hand out, pointing at the door. They stare at each other, in a war all their own, oblivious to spectators. Aelia tucks her body into mine and I loop an arm around her waist. Neither of us says a word, too entranced by the situation unfolding in front of us. It's not often I have a front-row seat to something like this.
Jag leans down, getting right in her face and bares his teeth. He might be trying to grin, but it only comes across as predatory.
"This isn't your room, sunshine."
"It's not yours either, kitty cat." She spins, stomps back to the bathroom, and slams the door behind her.
Aelia buries her face in my neck, then sinks her teeth into my shoulder as her shoulders shake. Her laughter is such a rare thing, and I wish she would let it out, if only so I could experience her joy given life. Then again, by the stormy expression on Jag's face as he glares where Avery disappeared, maybe now isn't the right time.
"Uh, Jag. You're more than welcome to take her to your room. Might be more..."
I snap my mouth shut as he slowly faces me, a warning clear on his face. I nod, clenching my teeth to keep the grin from my lips. He strides out the door, hopefully to calm his ass down. Avery's appearance is the last thing we need right now, especially if it pulls Jag's attention away from dealing with the Guild.
"Do you think they had a thing?" Aelia whispers, tipping her face up.
I drop a kiss on her soft lips, relishing her response. She opens for me, tilting her head and I slant my mouth over hers. There are a million other things we need to deal with, but I'll take any stolen moments I can with her. I grip her waist, sliding my thumbs under the fabric of her skirt. Brushing against something, I pull away and glance down.
"What the hell is this?" I ask, pulling out a piece of folded paper.
She yelps, snatching it from my fingers, then her hand dives into her waistband. Her cry of triumph echoes around us as she produces a second note, neatly folded.
"I forgot."
"Who gave you them?"
She unfolds one and reads it, mumbling as she scans the paper. Her eyes narrow, then she smooths the other one out and her eyes dart back and forth as her teeth pull her lip in her mouth.
"Aelia," I say sharply and she jolts, meeting my gaze.
