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“It’s too—”
“Late to cancel,” Raeg pointed out, appearing reasonable, even sounding reasonable. “It’s not too late to make the decision not to attend.”
That was Raeg, she thought, no matter the situation, he managed to remain logical. If only she could do the same.
She’d actually thought of not attending, actually discussed it with her family, but eventually rejected the idea.
“It won’t make a difference,” she breathed out, her voice rough as she pulled her hair over her shoulder and slowly began braiding the long length.
That calmed her. It was a crutch, one she rarely used, but the act of concentrating on the intricate mermaid braid kept her focused, kept her from giving into whatever tormented her, whatever hurt her.
She was aware of Falcon following the movements of her fingers, his gaze brooding, his expression never shifting from the hard, granite lines they were composed in.
“Why not?” The snap in Raeg’s voice caused her to flinch. It was like a lash of dark, bitter emotion slapping against her senses.
“Dragovich isn’t going to attack a crowd, it’s too risky. Especially a crowd of military and law enforcement personnel. It would be suicide,” she pointed out. “He’ll strike when I least expect it instead.”
“You wouldn’t expect it at one of those parties,” Raeg argued before tossing back the rest of his drink, then pouring another.
“Actually, everyone has been alerted to the fact that I’ve been targeted. I wouldn’t allow anyone to walk in unknowing, Raeg. I’m not that cruel nor am I that stupid.”
No one had backed out of the invitation though, most of the men had actually informed her family that they’d be coming armed, just in case.
“Don’t do this, Summer.” It was Falcon who spoke, the Spanish flavor of his voice actually more pronounced now.
Like Raeg, he stared at his drink rather than at her, his expression hardening further despite the fact that she hadn’t imagined it could get harder.
She worked at the braid desperately now, the tightness in her chest agonizing as she stared between them. She couldn’t remember a time when they had avoided looking at her while they disagreed. Falcon always yelled in several different languages, while Raeg became insulting and sarcastic in one. They weren’t displaying either characteristic at the moment. They were so self-contained it was frightening.
“This isn’t about Dragovich,” she finally stated, abandoning the braid when it was only half-finished. “It’s not about the potential of him attacking, because all three of us know the chances of that happening are practically nonexistent. This is about the reason for the parties. Let’s admit it.”
If they knew about the parties, then they knew about the reason for them. Everyone knew about the reason for them—to introduce Summer to the men her family considered a suitable match for her.
She wasn’t the only woman that would be there. The guest list was evenly matched between the sexes, with no expectations where Summer was concerned. It was simply an opportunity for her and the other unmarried male and female guests to meet and get to know one another. It wasn’t the first time such events had been arranged, it was actually quite common among the social set her parents were a part of.
Raeg and Falcon weren’t speaking now, they were concentrating on their drinks, glaring into their glasses after sipping at the liquor, the tension practically humming around them.
“Friday’s barbeque is Aunt Bee’s,” she informed them quietly. “It’s about an hour from here. We’ll need to leave about three in the afternoon and we’ll be there until around midnight. When we return, Caleb, Bowe, and Brody will come to the house with us and make certain it’s still secure, though several of the men Caleb once fought with will be watching the house while we’re gone. Everything’s going to be fine.”
At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Everything would be fine. And if Dragovich did decide to make a move, they’d be alerted before they returned to the house.
Either way, it would be dealt with and
Dragovich would be neutralized.
Falcon lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers then, and Summer barely smothered the cry that lay trapped in her throat. The agony she felt ripping her heart apart lay in his expression, in that deceptively icy gaze.
“Don’t do this, Belle,” he asked, his voice low, deeper than normal. “Not while Dragovich is still a threat.”
Not while they were there, not while they had to watch her socialize with a potential future husband. She understood that far more than they knew.
“Would the timing matter?” she asked painfully. “It wouldn’t, Falcon. And I’ll hate being there, I’ll hate knowing you’re there, hate knowing you’re aware of why I’m there. This way though, I can’t fool myself. I won’t have the option of believing the fantasy could be reality or that you’ll stick around once Dragovich isn’t a threat any longer. This way, we can’t hide from the truth. Right?”
Raeg tossed back the rest of his drink and slapped the glass down on the bar, the crack of sound causing her to flinch again. Raeg didn’t normally show his temper, she reminded herself. Just as Falcon didn’t remain quiet and aloof when he was pissed. None of this was normal, none of it was how she’d imagined it would be at all.
* * *
He was shattering on the inside. Falcon had never felt himself breaking apart, piece by piece, before. Not even the night he’d believed his and Raeg’s mothers had been murdered, and not when he’d learned years later that they hadn’t been. None of the betrayals in his life had ever shattered him, but this … this was killing him. Ripping at his guts and slicing into his chest with agonizing realization.
