Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Isabelle

I’m a disaster. A shower helps clear my head, but Gaeton’s not set up for anyone but him. And Gaeton does not use makeup, hair products, or own so much as a hairbrush. I’m left to finger comb my wet hair and braid it back from my face. I don’t know that I’ll be able to get it out of this braid without a vat of conditioner, but it’ll do for now.

It’s not until I’m finally finished that I realize my next hurdle. “I have no clothes.”

Beast looks up from his phone, frowning at me like I’ve just said something obvious. “That’s the point.”

Gods save me from dominant men. I speak slowly because the urge to yell is almost overpowering. “I have no clothes, Beast. People are showing up in fewer than ten minutes and I’m naked.”

Gaeton walks out of the bedroom dressed to the nines in a black suit and a button-down shirt in a deep blue that’s almost the same color as Beast’s eyes. I wonder if that was on purpose. Beast is wearing his normal uniform of dark jeans and a plain T-shirt; today it’s black. I wish I’d grabbed the shirt of Gaeton’s that I wore to sleep in. Standing here naked is not an option, no matter how cavalier these two are acting.

“Isabelle.” There’s a strange soberness to Gaeton’s voice that brings me around to face him again. “If we choose to have you naked, that’s how you’ll be.” Before I can argue, he raises a hand, dangling a length of fabric from it. “Come here.”

Even as I cross to him, recognition slams in to me. I know this fabric. It’s a black silk robe that I bought him years ago, because I wanted to see his big, rough body clothed in a decadent fabric that I could open like the best kind of present. I still remember how hard we laughed when he put it on, and how much I enjoyed the sex that came after.

I reach out a shaking hand and touch it. “You kept it.” I would have thought he took everything connected with me, dumped it in the nearest trash can, and doused it in gasoline for good measure. I certainly hadn’t left the things that reminded me of him lying around.

But I hadn’t had the heart to destroy them, either.

Every one of the little rose trinkets he bought me over the two years we dated currently occupies a carefully packed box in the back of my massive closet back home. I look up into his dark eyes, trying to find answers to questions I can’t begin to voice. “You kept it,” I repeat.

“I kept it.” Nothing more, but what more answer do I need? He could have a thousand reasons for hanging onto it, and none of them might mean what I hope they mean.

That he still loves me. That maybe he never stopped.

He holds it open so I can step into it. The robe dwarfs me, pooling at my feet and gaping at my chest despite my attempts to tie it firmly. It’s hardly a good option for meeting strangers, but they would have to pry it off me to make me change at this point. I can’t stop stroking the fabric, can’t stop remembering all the times I lay sprawled across his chest and did the same.

There are so many things to say, and I can’t find the words to even begin. Before I have a chance to, the buzzer announces the arrival of Beast’s guests. I take a seat on the chair facing the door and don’t miss the way Gaeton leans against the wall at my back while Beast goes to answer the door despite it being Gaeton’s apartment. Do they even notice how they’ve shifted their relationship since my father’s death?

I rub my hand against my chest. Maybe there will come a time when the reality of my father being gone forever doesn’t hit me with an almost-physical blow. When the loss of him doesn’t rise like a rogue wave to drown me when I least expect it. Maybe.

I tense as the door opens, but the woman who walks through isn’t the stranger I expect. I blink. “Tink?”

Tink stops short and narrows her eyes. She’s a pretty, plus-sized white woman with a mass of blond hair and the personality of a honey badger. She’s also a brilliant designer and responsible for most of the formal clothing in my closet right now. The man at her back is tall with medium-brown skin, a close-cropped beard and black hair that falls to his shoulders. Hook, the leader of one of the smaller territories in Carver City.

Tink looks at me for a long moment and then turns and levels a glare at both Beast and Gaeton. “What. The. Fuck.” She points at me. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“Um,” I say.

“No, they get to speak for themselves.” She talks over me like I’m not even here and turns to point that accusing finger at Hook. “Did you know about this?”

He raises his hands. “I know as much as you.”

“Good, because we would be having words.” She spins back to Gaeton and Beast. “We’re friends. I consider us friends.”

I have to twist to see Gaeton and he looks like he’s facing down the honey badger I compared Tink to. “We are friends, Tink.”

“That’s good. Then you won’t mind explaining why Isabelle Belmonte is sitting here in your robe, looking like she’s been run over by a truck.” She spares me the briefest glance. “No offense.”

“None taken,” I say faintly.

“There’s a simple explanation,” Beast interjects. He doesn’t look ruffled, but Beast always shuts down his reactions in stressful moments.

“That’s good. Because from what people are saying, it sure as fuck sounds like you hauled Isabelle out of the Underworld by her hair and have kept her locked up here as some kind of sex slave and, friends or not, I will castrate you right fucking now if that’s the case.” She’s wearing a pair of jeans that look painted on and a cute flouncy crop top, so I don’t think she has a weapon hidden anywhere, but both men tense up as if she just pulled out a gun and pointed it at them.

Beast takes half a step in front of my chair. “It’s none of your business.”

Hook whistles under his breath. “Good luck with that.”

“You made it my business when you sent out an invite to bring me here—an invite, I might add, that sounded a whole lot like a command.” Tink crosses her arms under her breasts. “I talk to Isabelle alone or I walk—and I will be walking right to Meg and letting her know that this fuckery is taking place in her and Hades’s territory. Your choice.”

I fully expect the men to fight her on this. Neither of them takes orders well from anyone other than my father, and Tink’s married to the leader of an entirely different territory. But Beast finally steps back and Gaeton brushes a light hand across my hair. “Tell her whatever she wants to know, Isabelle.”

I twist to look at him. I truly do not understand the power dynamics in the room right now. “What? Why?”

“Because she’s a friend.” He gives a smile that’s almost a grimace. “And she doesn’t bluff.”

Their friend.

Maybe it’s true, but there’s a lot more in the way of undertones here that I don’t understand. Or maybe I simply never stopped to think about what Gaeton and Beast would look like as friends with other people. They socialized with the people that work under them, but that always felt almost like an obligation. Both men keep others at a distance as a matter of course. The fact that this woman is here, is close enough to demand answers without them seeing it as a threat or digging in their heels …

Every new revelation about these two drives home the truth; I really don’t know them as well as I thought I did.

Tink looks around and nods at the door to the bedroom. “In there. Now.” Another cross look at the rest of the room. “Keep an eye on these two, Hook.”

I follow slowly, clutching the robe to keep from flashing her. I’ve been alone with this woman many times in the past, but it feels a little like locking myself in with a tiger as I shut the door behind me.

She frowns at me and lowers her voice. “Look, I know better than anyone how the rumor mill churns in this city, but if you need me to get you out, I will.”

I blink. “Why would you do that? You’re their friend.”

“No shit I’m their friend, and sometimes that means taking a hard line when they’re fucking up.” She hesitates, but finally props her hands on her hips. “I would like to believe that neither of those guys would keep you here if you didn’t want to be, but Beast and Gaeton are fucked in the head when it comes to you, and the Man in Black dying has fucked them up worse. So as much as I’d like to say that they’d never do something so unforgivable, I can’t guarantee it, which is why we’re having this conversation.” She crosses to me and flicks open the robe a little. “So I’ll ask you again and I want an honest answer; are those bruises consensual or do I need to get you out?”

I look down. My body aches from everything we did yesterday, and I barely noticed the bruises. I flush with something like shame, though there’s a level of possessive pride in there. I earned these marks. I meet and hold her green eyes. “It’s none of your business, but I’m willing to give you an answer because I appreciate your offer, unnecessary as it is. The marks are consensual. I’m here because I want to be. If I wanted to walk out that door, they wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

She searches my face for a long time and finally exhales in a rush. “Thank fuck. I hoped they wouldn’t drop into the deep end like that, but grief does weird shit to people and I couldn’t be sure.” She starts to sit on the bed and changes her mind halfway through. “I don’t need any details you’re not comfortable sharing, but I’d like some.”

Most of it is common enough knowledge at this point. Beyond that, it’s not a bad idea to have this woman in my corner. “They left after my father died.” I wrestle down the grief pushing at the inside of my skin, just waiting to spill messily over everything. “Ursa is testing our boundaries, and we need them back.”

“Uh-huh.” Tink is still studying me. “And none of you three got over that mess from a year ago.”

“And none of the three of us got over that, either,” I confirm. It’s difficult to keep my expression locked down. “We agreed on two weeks. It’ll all be figured out by then.”

Tink raises her brows. “Sure it will.” She presses perfect red-painted lips together. “Okay, fine, I won’t hustle you out of here. You know why they called me?”

They haven’t explicitly stated their plan, but I can hazard a few guesses. “I need clothes.” They want to make a statement and Tink’s designs are sure to do that, though I don’t know what she can accomplish on this timeline. None of us have thought through things as much as we need to.

“You need a whole lot more than that.” She shakes her head. “Damn men. We’ll take care of this. Trust me.”

Strangely enough, I do. Tink and I have never been friends. She’s snarly and brilliant and all of our interactions have surrounded her measuring me, making suggestions, and then delivering stunning clothing items when she says she will. That said, I know plenty about her reputation. Anyone who can go toe-to-toe with the power players in Carver City, both in and out of the bedroom, is not someone to be taken lightly. “Okay.”

She leads the way back into the main room of the apartment. The men are more or less exactly where we left them. Hook lights up like Tink has been gone a week instead of a few short minutes. Gaeton and Beast just look guarded.

Tink props her hands on her generous hips. “You two are acting like fools.”

“Jeez, Tink, tell us how you really feel.” Gaeton smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Somehow, I know that if this situation wasn’t about me, he’d be fully enjoying her attitude.

“Don’t worry, I have an itemized list.” I can’t see her expression from here, but she sounds fearsome. “I’m going to text it to you, and then you and Beast are going to retrieve every single thing on the list for me. I don’t want you back before then.”

Beast is already shaking his head. “No. We’re more than happy to pay your steep fees to get something put together now, but we’re not leaving.”

“Wrong again.” She pulls her phone out and types quickly. Seconds later, both Gaeton and Beast’s phones chime.

Gaeton’s brows rise as he reads. “This list has twenty things on it. Some of this shit, I’ve never heard of.”

“Get familiar. You want to seduce someone who invests as much into their appearance as Isabelle does—that wasn’t a dig, by the way—you need to figure out the products that they need to accomplish it, and you need to figure it out fast.” A sugary sweet edge filters into her voice, one that doesn’t do a single thing to cover the poison beneath. “Get the fuck out, or I’ll leave all three of you high and dry. And don’t think for a second that I’m not charging you hazard pay for this entire day.”

Beast and Gaeton exchanged one of those silent speaking glances. Finally, Beast shrugs. “You get a few hours on the condition that Hook stays.” He looks at the other man. “I’m assuming you have a team in the building.”

“You assume correctly.”

“It’ll be enough.” Beast crosses to me and tips my chin up with a finger. “What do you want, Isabelle?”

That’s a question I still don’t have an answer to. I’m starting to fear I never will. I try for a smile, but the expression doesn’t feel right on my face. “Tink appears to have things well in hand.”

He searches my expression and nods once. “We won’t be long.”

Not a single person mentions that it’d be simple to order the items and have them couriered here. There’s a bit of shuffling around as Hook’s people bring up a sewing machine and a rack filled with wardrobe bags. Then Gaeton and Beast are gone, Hook’s team are sent to secure the perimeter, and I’m left with these two people I barely know.

Hook brushes a soft kiss to Tink’s lips. “I’d tell you to be gentle, but I know better.”

“That’s right. You do know better.”

He drops into the chair Gaeton occupied and pulls out his phone. Seconds later, he seems entirely consumed with whatever he’s reading. Tink turns to give me a long look. “You shy?”

“Not particularly.”

“If you want Hook in another room or facing away, it’s fine, but I need you to try on a few things. We don’t have a time to put together a dress from scratch, so we’ll adjust some of the stuff I have on hand.”

I glance at Hook, but he doesn’t seem to pay us the least bit of attention. I know it’s a lie. If he thinks for a second that I’m a threat, he’ll neutralize me immediately. But I appreciate how respectful he’s being. He has a good reputation, both as a man and as a territory leader, and so far he’s living up to it. “It’s fine.”

“I’ll take you at your word. Lose the robe.”

I shrug out of it and drape it over the arm of the couch. Tink circles me and whistles. “They did a number on you.”

Impossible not to blush. “I enjoyed it.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” She stops in front of me and narrows her eyes. “You’ve lost weight. I can see that even without measuring you again. You’re not taking care of yourself.”

“It’s been a rough couple of months.” The understatement of the century.

Tink winces. “Right. I’m sorry. My condolences on the loss of your father.”

I never know what to say to people who offer their condolences or apologies. No amount of words in any combination will bring him back or lessen the pain of losing him. Nothing can combat the gaping hole in my chest, though being with Beast and Gaeton helps distract me. Without their presence in the apartment, the darkness nips at my edges, tearing away bits of my armor and what little peace I found in the arms of the two men I love.

I clear my throat. “Thanks.”

If Tink sees the way I blink too often to avoid the wetness in my eyes overflowing, she chooses to ignore it. Instead, she turns to the garment bags and unzips them one by one. “I grabbed everything I have ready. We’ll get you a few options to work with, and when I’m done, you’ll look amazing enough that no one will wonder how you’re feeling.”

She gets it. Somehow, she understands. I manage to smile past the burning in my throat. “Thank you.” This time, I truly mean it.