“Sure, babe. Look at your messages.” Looking over her shoulder at James and Patrick, she said, “They’ll be a few minutes more setting up the table and cards.”
“I hope it’s a sturdy table.”
Raven grinnedas she moved toward the bar where Hugh was getting more glasses and bottles of water.
“Ready to get your ass kicked, Mr. O’Faolain?”
“No, which is why I will most likely be the Dealer for this evening’s entertainment.”
Hugh glanced over Raven’s shoulder and frowned. Raven twisted at the waist to see what had caught his attention.
Bran stood by one of the couches, staring at his phone screen. He was white as a ghost. She and Hugh moved toward him at the same time.
The banter ceased. No one moved. It couldn’t be good news.
“Bran.” No response. “Bran, what is it? Has something happened?
He raised his head— and looked at Raven with such anguish, such anger... disgust— her steps faltered. What in the world was going on?
“Has something happened?”
Bran choked on a harsh laugh. “You could say that. I’ve been played.”
“What are you talking about? You’re scaring Raven and making everyone else here uncomfortable,” Hugh chided.
“I would ask Raven to explain, but she’s way too good of a liar. I doubt she’d even know how to tell the truth.”
Raven’s face was flaming hot. She was scared, not for her safety, but the absolute dizzying disorientation swamping her body. She was shaking.
“Raven’s been fucking another man, or more than one. Who knows.”
Gasping, “That is a lie, Bran. A fucking lie. I have never cheated. Who... who has... has told you such things?”
“Oh, they didn’t tell me. They did one better. They sent photos.” Looking at his screen again, his countenance stiffened further.
Raven felt her sisters move on either side of her, someone at her back. Jo, maybe.
“You can’t possibly believe that of me, Bran.” Raven took deep gulping breaths. “I love you. YouknowI do. Please, show me the pictures, let me... I don’t know. But Bran... I’ve only been... damn it, Bran... you know very well I didn’t sleep around before us... I?—”
She and her sisters were all shaking now. Bran advanced two more steps toward her.
“I know nothing but what these pictures tell me. Everything before— that was the lie. And you know what, maybe you’ve been planning this since before Ireland. Maybe you were a virgin, or maybe you faked that like you faked loving me.”
Raven’s head fell back as if he’d slapped her. She could barely see through the tears. Nothing could be worse than this— this horrible moment.
But... it could, actually, get worse. He wasn’t finished destroying her.
“Or maybe you decided you liked sex so much you couldn’t get enough of it. And in Wolves? Jesus, Raven! My family’s own fucking place? And here I’ve always thought my mother was the worst example of a woman.”
Clearly, he thought Raven was worse than a cold-hearted bitch with no love for her own children.
Raven watched the other men finally start to move. It was as though the vitriol Bran had been coating her with had briefly frozen the other inhabitants in the room.
Hugh walked between his son and Raven. “I’m sorry for this. For whatever the fuckthisis.” He motioned behind her. “Won’t you sit and have some water?”
Raven could only stare over Hugh’s shoulder at the man she had believed, mere minutes ago, was her forever. This night... she could not have conjured the atrocity of this night... no... this was a level of hurt like she’d experienced only once before in her life, and still, her parents hadn’t wanted to destroy her with grief. No... they hadn’t meant to hurt her... they hadn’t meant to leave her.
Bran’s words were intentional. Whatever those pictures were, they were not her, but Bran’s words were as final as her parents’ deaths had been.
