Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

ELENNA

"I hope Aidan knows what he’s doing," Wren said around a mouthful of strawberry cheesecake. "As far as I can tell, nothing good ever came from interacting with people like Nicholas and Celine. Or Geneva, for that matter."

"If you keep adding to it, the list will be long," Sinclair pointed out. "And probably includes us too."

Wren swallowed her mouthful so quickly she almost choked. When she was done coughing and washing her cake down with gulps of coffee she managed to say, "Speak for yourself."

"Oh, I am," Sinclair said with a smile. "I’m a very dubious person. I work in PR for a hockey team owned by other very dubious people. To anyone on the outside, that makes me suspicious as fuck."

"You’re not suspicious," I told her. "Working for suspicious people doesn’t automatically make you suspicious. I work in the same place, remember?"

She grinned.

I socked her lightly on the arm. "Just because you’re right doesn’t mean I’m not offended," I said jokingly. I’d killed two people. That certainly didn’t make me a perfect angel. No matter what the circumstances were.

She rubbed her arm. "I think you just helped to make my point. So violent."

"Quick question," Wren said. "Do your guys think we don’t know they’re there?" She jerked her head towards the window.

"They know we know," I said. "And if they didn’t, they do now." I considered giving them a little wave, but decided against it. They were trying to be discreet. Ish.

"I can’t decide if you’re lucky or not." Sinclair said slowly. "On one hand, they’re all gorgeous. On the other, that’s a lot of testosterone, even without everything that’s going on. And then there’s the relationships with each other. Aidan and Finley are friends and Aidan is Orion’s coach. How do they get along, especially when it comes to sharing you?"

I toyed with the handle of my fork, occasionally poking it into my custard tart. "They get along okay, most of the time. Aidan and Orion seem to leave their problems at work. Mostly, they want to make me happy, and that includes getting along. In and outside the bedroom."

"I think I’ve decided you’re lucky," Wren said. "Because that sounds pretty amazing. They obviously care about you a lot. If anyone took a wrong step towards you, they’d be over here like a shot. That’s kinda hot."

"You better be careful taking steps towards me," I said laughingly. "Wouldn’t want to end up in a headlock."

She laughed. "Maybe I would. Not with one of them though." She cocked her head. "I wonder if Tiger is the sharing type?"

"He might be," I said. "His brother is." I couldn’t imagine Tiger getting along with anyone well enough to share, but stranger things had happened.

"Good point," Wren said as she poked her fork into a strawberry. "Maybe he could be convinced."

"Who would you want to have him share you with?" Sinclair asked.

"Is the rest of the team too much to ask?" Wren laughed. "Imagine all those cocks." She sighed wistfully.

"Imagine never being able to walk again," Sinclair said.

"You say that like it’s a bad thing." Wren popped the strawberry into her mouth.

"She has a point," I said to Sinclair. "She could get them to carry her everywhere."

"This is sounding better and better." Wren chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "Is there a signup sheet for this? Because my name will be right at the top. I bet Sinclair would be second."

"Not for a whole hockey team," Sinclair said. "I wouldn’t say no to a couple of them." She stabbed her carrot cake like it was someone’s face.

"Let me guess, Coast Riggs." Wren raised a red eyebrow at her in sympathy.

"Of course not," Sinclair said weakly. "A guy like him would never be interested in a woman like me. He doesn’t even know I exist."

"Then he’s not worth your time," Wren said. "There are plenty of other fish in the sea."

"I don’t want a fish." Sinclair grimaced.

"There’s plenty more men," I said. "I’ve seen the way they look at you. You could have your pick." If she stopped mooning over Coast. But the heart and clit wanted what they wanted. Sometimes, they even agreed with each other.

She sighed. "I suppose I should put myself out there more."

"No ’suppose’ about it," I said. "I want both of you to be happy. If that’s with one other person or ten, or none, you have my full support."

"Maybe I’ll get a dog," Sinclair mused. "They love you no matter what. For all my other needs, there’s a multitude of vibrators on the market."

"I’ve never met a vibrator that was as good as having an orgasm given by someone else," Wren said. "But if that’s your best life, then I’m happy for you too."

"If that’s my best life, I might as well go straight to having fifteen cats," Sinclair’s shoulders slumped.

I couldn’t help laughing. I couldn’t imagine Sinclair with that many cats. She was way too young to be a crazy, old cat lady anyway.

"Definitely not," Wren said. "At least get sixteen cats to make it even."

She grinned as Sinclair flicked carrot cake in her direction. She ducked to the side, narrowly missing being hit by a piece covered in icing. "Elenna is right. I’ve seen guys staring at you too. If you give one of them a chance, you never know what might happen. You might forget all about Coast Riggs and live a long and happy life with some hot guy and sixteen cats."

"I don’t think I want to share a guy with that many pussies," Sinclair said.

We all laughed. Sitting here with them let me forget everything else for a while. Especially the part where we were about to make an enemy out of Geneva Mancini, her biological children and whichever of her stepchildren were on her side. The prospect was daunting and might end up with me as dead as if they handed me over to the Fiorellis for Oscar’s death. This was a risky game Aidan was playing with all of our lives. One wrong step, one miscalculation and we’d be fucked. Not in the good way.

"You look like you’re contemplating your life choices," Wren said to me. "How many cats will your boyfriends let you get?"

Boyfriends. It was strange to hear that out loud. I could hardly get my head around having three partners, especially being legally married to one of them. How did I ensure that Finley and Orion never felt second to Aidan? Or ensure that Aidan never held our vows over the other guy’s heads.

I’d like to think he wouldn’t throw his weight around, but this was Aidan we were talking about. He was the very definition of alpha male. He liked things done his way, end of story. Whatever it took to get there, he’d do it. Even if it meant putting a wedge between him and the other two. If he felt the need to do it, he’d do it. It was that simple.

"None, I’m allergic to cats," I said. "I wasn’t thinking about that."

"I know," Wren said. "I know what you’re thinking. Do you want Sinclair and I along with you when things go down? Safety in numbers and all that."

"It might be safer for you to stay as far away from it as possible," I said. The last thing I wanted was to drag them into my shit and get them killed.

"Sounds like you need us," Wren said. "We’re here for you if you do, right Sinclair?"

"Absolutely," Sinclair agreed. "Whatever it takes. I don’t want to look back in ten years, when Geneva is too powerful for anyone to deal with, and wish I’d done something. I’ve always thought she was a snake. Even more so than Dante was."

"That’s saying something," Wren said. "He was a major asshole."

"That’s my point," Sinclair said. "I could get behind an ambitious woman, but she’d stab someone in the back without thinking about it. Without flinching. Even if they were members of her own family. If I were her children, I wouldn’t turn my back on her."

I could say the same about most of the people I knew. Reuben Brantley. Samuel Bell. They’d all do what they had to to cling onto it. Hadn’t I just had the same thought about Aidan?

He was different though. Aidan caused friction, but he’d never kill Finley or Orion to get his way. He was as loyal as he was ambitious.

"Neither would I," I said. "The sooner she’s dealt with, the better for all of us."

Wren leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. "Can we be sure none of the Demons are working for her? For all we know, Coast is a trusted minion."

"He is not," Sinclair snapped.

"How do you know?" Wren turned her face to regard her.

Sinclair shifted in her seat. "I just know, okay? The same way I’m sure you know Tiger isn’t."

"Do I know that?" Wren asked.

"If you don’t know, then you might want to reconsider going out with him," I said. "At least until all of this blows over and we know for sure."

She swiped her tongue over her lips. "Yeah, you’re right," she said slowly. "It’s only for a little while. Then after that…" Her eyes widened. "I guess it won’t matter, because if he’s in tight with her, he probably won’t survive."

I reached over to put a hand on her shoulder. "I’m sure things will turn out fine."

Honestly, I didn’t think for a moment Tiger Pennington was involved with Geneva, but if it kept Wren safe, it was better to assume everyone was suspect.

"Which brings us back to hoping Aidan knows what he’s doing," Sinclair said.

I hoped the same thing.

"Of course he does," I said. If I didn’t have faith in him, I couldn’t ask them to. "In a couple of days, this will be over and we can laugh about it. Or…be relieved."

People were going to die, laughing was unlikely.

My hands were coated with a thick layer of blood and brains again. Oscar’s life was warm as it splattered on to me. It cooled while his body cooled. It hardened, caked under my nails. Layers and layers that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard I scrubbed.

"Elenna? Elenna?"

I blinked and realised Wren was shaking me lightly. I was wringing my hands so hard they hurt. Hands which were clean of blood, bones or brain. Oscar was long gone, cremated, according to Aidan. If only I could put my guilt on a fire and incinerate it too.

I lowered my hands to the table in front of me. "I’m okay. Every so often, I remember what…what I did. It comes back to me like that."

"Have you seen anyone?" Sinclair’s face was scrunched with concern.

"I’m seeing you two," I said. "I don’t need professional help. What would I say anyway? What could I say that wouldn’t get me locked up?"

"Reuben really needs to invest in more therapists," Wren said. "Ones who won’t judge, or turn any of us in to the cops. You know, I was going to go into psychology, but I didn’t get the grades at school. Lucky I love what I do, because I wouldn’t have been good at much else."

"Yes, you would," I told her. "You would have been an amazing therapist. I would totally have gone to you for help." She was smarter than she gave herself credit for. Not everyone was academically inclined. Not to mention the sad fact that academics wasn’t tailored for every person. Someone would always fall through the proverbial cracks, even someone as amazing as Wren.

Wren dipped her chin, but smiled. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I don’t think I’ll go back to school to find out. Making jewellery is more my calling."

"You’re amazing at it," Sinclair said. "But dangerous to my bank balance."

Wren grinned. "Sorry, not sorry."

"I thought you might not be," Sinclair said dryly. She glanced towards the window and frowned. "Uh-oh. Looks like shit is about to hit the fan."