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“I’m not?” I quirk an eyebrow at her.
“Foxglove Marlina. One does not fuck that many men and be careless. I raised you better than that, bitch. Are you kidding me right now?” Her eyes are saucers. She’s whisper-yelling at me, even though the men in question have continued to make themselves scarce, and we’ve got the cabin to ourselves.
“Don’t worry, I’m being careful.”
“Babe, I know your body struggled with being on birth control, but surely you could give it another try? Find another brand or doctor?” Em is spiraling. “How does it even work with figuring out condoms for three dicks? Do you have an entire garage stacked full of bulk-order super-strength rubbers?”
Now I’m actually laughing. I shake my head. “Let’s just back away from the ledge, ok…they’ve all had the snip. I’m safe.”
Em’s jaw slackens, and I reach up to push her mouth closed. She slaps my hand away, still firmly in the land of disbelief.
“All of them? You’re serious?”
“Swear on my life.”
She slumps back on the seat across from me. “How is this real? Last I checked, you were living in the same city as me, in a committed relationship with your drawer full of toys. Now you’ve got three gorgeous specimens of male running after you like you hung the moon and the stars, and you’ve moved halfway across the country without telling me?”
She’s right to sound more than a little incredulous. Em doesn’t know anything about the Anguis, and I’ll gladly ensure that doesn’t change.
I don’t dare tell her the real reason they’re in my life.
I’m also carefully side-stepping the part where she’s drawing conclusions about them feeling a certain way. This is just their revenge, and fantastic sex. That’s all.
“You know I’ll always support you, right?” Em gives me a firm look.
I nod. “Same goes for me with you, babe.”
She sighs heavily. “I only want you to be happy. And if they make you happy, I’m good. But if they hurt you in any way, be prepared for me to turn up with a machete to hack their dicks off, and an army to bring you home, ok?”
I can’t argue with that because if our situations were reversed, I would be threatening the exact same thing. And judging by the state she arrived in, I’m still not entirely convinced I don’t need to storm the castle to save my friend.
Although, there’s absolutely no chance of Em, or anyone for that matter, extracting me from my own situation. Right now, I’m trapped down the rabbit hole and I don’t think I’m ever going to be leaving Wonderland unless it’s in a body bag.
We get to spend a little bit longer together, where Em expertly side-steps any and all of my questions about what is going on in her life, and I tiptoe around what I can and can’t tell her of my own.
But Thorne appears, and his presence signals that our time is up.
Our hugs goodbye bring copious tears, and as I watch my best friend disappear down the steps of the jet—at least this time allowed to walk away of her own accord—I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.
The strangest part is that Em continued to breeze on about plans for the summer and when we can next see each other again, while all I could do was bite the inside of my cheek so hard, I tasted blood.
“It isn’t what it looks like. She’s safe.” Thorne ushers me back toward my seat and explains quietly that he’s having her moved somewhere as a precaution. I don’t even think I hear half of what he tells me. My eyes are glued to Em, watching her cross the tarmac outside the jet. I press myself up against the oval window and follow the black cavalcade of armored vehicles containing the most precious person in my life pull away.
I only caught a brief glimpse of my men exchanging words with one of the other guys who looked like he belonged in a SWAT team who was in one of the vehicles that just left. He looked gritty and all business, complete with armored vest and dark glasses to go with his black hair.
I’m really hoping he’s a ruthless cunt who will protect my friend with his life.
Apparently, he’s one of the men the Callianos trust the most, or so Thorne tells me as I slump into my seat and we prepare to take off. I suppose I should be grateful he’s changed his tune about threatening my best friend and degrading my mother’s memory.
Grateful.
What a fucking joke my life is.
41
Ifind myself sunk against Ky’s warm chest, curled in his lap, while my sand-covered toes dangle over the side of our shared deck chair.
Could this be paradise? Possibly, if there weren’t so many goddamn secrets lurking in the long shadows.
