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"Maybe you could be done with leading her around like a fucking dog," Avery mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear.
I sigh, but Aelia's face morphs, nostrils flaring and indignation flashing in her eyes. I shake my head, silently telling her it's not worth it. Of course, she doesn't listen. Aelia pushes me aside, rounding on Avery.
"You have a lot of fucking opinions for someone who was rescued the minute you stepped foot in this building."
"Apparently you don't have enough after being here for, what? A couple months?" Avery sneers.
Jag's arm lands on my arm, stopping me. I didn't even realize I'd moved. Shrugging him off, I retreat to the window, leaning against it. Jag settles next to me, crossing his arms.
"Seven years," Aelia says, crossing her arms and popping her hip out.
Avery flinches, eyes darting to us, then back to Aelia. Her mouth flops open, then snaps shut again as she searches the floor for her next argument. Aelia taps her foot, then looks at her wrist as if checking an invisible watch.
"I thought you said hewasn't like the others?" Avery throws her thumb at me.
"And? Doesn't mean I'm allowed to act differently. Plus, wearing that shit?"Aelia gestures to the collar still sitting at her feet. "That allows me more freedom than I've ever had within the Guild. I wouldn't expect you to understand."
Avery's lip curls and she narrows her eyes. "You have no idea what I've been through."
"I may not, but that doesn't mean that you can go judging situations you don't understand. I get it—this sucks. But get your shit together and stop blaming the rest of us for the shitshow you're in. Jag has offered to get you out and you refused. So get on board or shut the fuck up."
Aelia pivots, snatching up the collar, then marching to the closet. She'll strip out of her ridiculous outfit and slide into my clothes even though I bought her sweatpants of her own. I won't stop her since it's adorable watching her trip over the hem. She covers her feet with the ends and shuffles around. When we get out, I'm buying her a dozen of them.
If we get out, I remind myself.
"You could have fucking said something," Avery hisses at Jag, smacking him on the arm.
"Think again, Ave. Nice to see someone else verbally handing your ass to ya." Jag grins, then busts into laughter as she huffs and stomps away.
She reaches the corner of the room and slides down, wrapping her arms around her knees. There's nowhere to run in this place and now that we're cramped in here together, it doesn't help. Jag has been taking Avery to his room to sleep, but he refuses to leave her alone with other guards right next door while he's guarding my space. It's not ideal, yet it's the best we can do.
"You mentioned something about not waiting?" Jag asks, eyes fixed on Avery.
"We need to start blowing shit up. Fucking with their cash flow while Aelia lays the groundwork for cutting off their funds. It's going to be a process, but I'm sick of doing this shit," I grumble.
"You think burning down a gambling hall or two is going to do much?"
"Probably not by itself, but Jenkins is already worried. As soon as I stop contributing, he'll be in a tight spot." I watch Aelia stumble out of the closet, hiding my grin behind my hand.
Jag runs his hand through his dark hair. "Which puts you at risk of being exposed and fucks us all. What else?"
I shrug, completely at a loss. "If we had contacts in the other cities. Or hell, knew where they were located, then we could try to cut them off as well."
Aelia approaches Avery like she's taming a wild animal. She crouches in front of the other woman, tilting her head as they talk quietly. An image flashes through my mind of Mac meeting Aelia, completely taking my woman under her wing. I jolt back at the thought of her being mine—at planning for the future. I don't even know what's going on outside these walls, which makes my palms itch.
"You good?" Jag asks, breaking through my thoughts.
"You worried about anyone out there?" I gaze out the window as if I can see all the way to Viper territory.
"Ghost can take care of himself. I don't have anyone else to worry about," he murmurs, eyes fixed on Avery.
"Sure you don't."
He scowls, pulling his gaze away from them. "Don't start. Shit is convoluted enough without adding more complications."
"You really shouldn't call your woman a complication." Quashing the grin isn't easy, but I manage it—barely.
He grits his teeth, fingers curling into a fist, and I step back. "Knock it off. She might get it in her head and use it to torture me. All I want to do is get her the fuck out of here and deliver her to Ghost. He'll deal with her."
