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And it’s one I can’t answer. At least not honestly.
“Rogue?” Soul prods when I remain silent.
Grim smacks me upside the head, and I face him. “What?”
“Fifty bucks,” he signs. “And Prez asked you a question.”
My mind reels as I mentally scramble for a response, and when I can’t come up with anything, I do the only thing I can do… I act.
I reach for Skye and manage to toss her over my shoulder before she even knows what hit her. Pushing past Grim and ignoring the heated shouting of my other brothers and the women, I stride out of the conference room and carry her through the clubhouse.
“Put me down,” Skye demands, pounding my back with tiny fists.
“No,” I bark.
“I swear, Rogue,” she pleads. “I didn’t do what you’re accusing me of doing.”
“I know.”
Instantly, her movements cease, and her body goes slack. She stops fighting me as if my admission has stolen all of her energy.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks quietly.
Without responding, I pick up my pace. Only when I reach my room and get inside do I set her on her feet. She immediately moves to the side to dart around me, but I wrap my hand around her wrist and stop her.
Electricity sparks between us, and when her nostrils flare, I know she felt it too.
“Rogue, please.”
“Please, what?”
“Let me go.”
“Is that really what you want?”
“I…” Skye swallows. “I don?—”
“Who’s Clint?” I blurt, unable to hold back any longer.
Pain flashes in her eyes, and tears well as she shudders out a sigh. “A friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes.”
“A friend with benefits?”
My cheek stings when her palm connects with flesh, and my glasses shift on my nose. Rather than react, I repeat myself.
“Is he a friend with benefits or not?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“So, yes?”
Skye throws her arms up in defeat. “No! Clint isn’t a friend with benefits. Clint isn’t anything because Clint is fucking dead!”
Shit.
