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“What the fuck were you thinking?”
Rogue swiveled in his chair to face him, clasped his hands at his stomach, and smirked. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific.”
“You had that meeting with Palmer while Dahlia sat in?”
Rogue shrugged. “Yeah.”
“What the fuck?”
“Why the fuck not? She ain’t going anywhere.”
“You don’t decide what and when to tell her. I do.”
“Then, fucking do it.”
“Rogue,” Trey warned.
“Why the fuck are you hesitating?” Rogue knitted his brows. “You made your fucking decision! Hell, you made it the day I tried firing her. You knew it then, Trey.”
Trey flattened his lips, refusing to respond. Bringing Dahlia into his world came with sacrifices she’d have to make, risks she knew nothing about, and a life she hadn’t agreed to. Trey couldn’t stake his claim without giving her a choice first. He wouldn’t drag her into this world without knowing she was all in with him, their life, and ultimately, the Underground.
“What the fuck, Trey?”
Trey ignored Rogue, cupping his mouth and veering his gaze across the room. This was bigger than this conversation. This was everything.
“Claim her and be done with this bullshit with Oz.”
Many people didn’t understand Rogue. They thought he was selfish, only out for himself. Little did they know, he did see beyond himself. He saw Oz. And he sees me. It wasn’t some strange twist that Rogue accepted Dahlia as his. Rogue was always about Trey and Oz. In his mind, they were all that mattered. And for a long time, ’til Dahlia showed up, Trey had the same mindset.
Trey shook his head. Rogue was seeing it in black and white, but there were so many gray areas. Dahlia didn’t choose this life, and she didn’t have to be subjected to it. Not the threats, the danger, none of it was hers to take on.
“Why the fuck not?”
Trey turned, glaring at the man he’d taken a solemn oath with decades ago.
“Do you have any idea the jeopardy that it puts her in being connected to me? She’s out there completely fucking clueless as to what happens behind these doors!”
“Then, fucking tell her, Trey. Bring her in.”
“Giving her any information, again, puts her at risk,” Trey snapped, growing increasingly agitated. “It puts a target on her back if others know she’s with me.”
“And it gives her a fucking shield. We protect her. We do it with Lil. And Sloane, Wren, and Camille. Hell, we fucking protect half of East’s women, what’s another?”
“It’s not the same.”
“We do it with…”
Trey spun around and glared. “It’s not the fucking same. Not with her!”
It wasn’t the same as all the others they’d vowed to protect. This was personal. Dahlia was his, a part of him.
“Oh, fuck.” Rogue squared his jaw. “You’re in deep.”
So deep he was drowning. Trey had never been in this type of situation. Nothing had ever come close to his ties with the Underground. Until Dahlia. Giving up Dahlia wasn’t an option. Neither was walking away from the only life he’d ever known.
“Where we at with this, Trey? Kids, marriage…what the fuck are we talking?”
All of it. He was ready to build a life solely around her. Trey dragged his hands down his face, drawing in a deep breath.
