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Ash has been with Bryant for longer than I knew him, but she and I clicked instantly the first time that I met her. She was like the little sister I never knew I needed. Her and another girl who works for Bryant, Amanda, are like two peas in a pod. I’m closer to Ash, though, always have been.
She smiles brightly, placing the tray onto the table. “Mrs. Royal? Oh my god!” She rushes forward while still holding a bottle of Champagne with her other hand, her arms flinging around my neck. “Are you back?” I want to bask in the glorification of being called Mrs. Royal, just for a little longer.
“Great,” Stacey muttered from across the table. “Another one who knows her.”
I take the bottle of Dom Pérignon from Ashley and pop off the cork while sitting back down. “Well, no. And as far as I’ve just learned,” I start pouring the champagne into my flute, my eyes back on Bryant, who is now leaning back lazily in his throne. I can’t help but know he’s loving this little cat and mouse game. “I’m no longer Isa Royal.”
Bryant’s jaw tenses, his focus never straying from me. It’s as though it’s just he and I and our chemistry that’s in this room. My blood loudly gushes through my ears to a rhythm I don’t know the choreography to.
“Well,” Stacey jokes. “There can’t be two of us…”
“There can’t?” Bryant answers her, but his eyes remain on mine. The corner of his mouth is cocked up in a grin, flashing part of his straight teeth. Teeth I want to knock out after that comment.
I narrow my eyes. “Oh, it’s like you don’t know me at all, husband, or have you forgotten…” I tip back my drink and when his eyes fall on my damp lips, I drag my tongue out and lick the tangy champagne off the bottom. “I don’t share.”
Max’s hand comes to my thigh and I jolt slightly, my eyes flying down to the connection and then up to Max’s soft brown eyes.
“You okay?” he whispers.
“Yes.” I clear my throat, taking another long sip from my flute. “He makes me crazy.”
Ashley excuses herself from the room to go back to work, but only after telling me she wants to talk later. I didn’t miss the dirty stare she gave Stacey either. At first glance, I thought Stacey was nice enough. Demure. Soft. Too gentle for my wolf. But the more I spend time around her, the more I don’t like her, and I didn’t like her to begin with, so I’m balancing on hate right now.
I sigh, resting back in my chair once the alcohol is pulsing heavily through my bloodstream. “So. What’s up, husband. Why am I here?”
Bryant’s eyes go to Max. “Do I know you?”
Max tenses slightly beside me. Deflect, deflect, deflect. Bryant is good at that. “I was Isa’s doctor.”
Max takes a swig of red wine. So different from Bryant. Where Bryant only ever really touches hard liquor, Max is happy with wine.
“And you broke her out?” Bryant further asks, his finger working the top of his mouth.
His tattoos sneak out over his fingers and I notice new ones all over his neck and throat, even one near his ear, on the side of his face. I can’t make out what it is from here, but I have to fight the urge to jump over the table and—
“—Isa!” Bryant snaps, drawing all of the attention in the room to me.
I freeze, my eyes zoning back on him. His jawline is tense. “Care to remain focused? Or have you lost your will, and do I need to remind you where it is?”
I can’t stop the half smile that sneaks onto my face. It’s the alcohol, it’s bringing out the worst in me. The trunk of my flute glass dangles between my fingers. “No, no need to remind me.” I lean forward, cocking my head. “Up to the third level and first door on the right, right? Tell me, did you end up opting for the spa bath or did you listen to me and go the more classical route by choosing the clawfoot?” I watch as fury flashes over his eyes while I bat my lashes innocently at him. I can’t even revel in my triumph for two seconds before a sadistic smirk creeps onto his mouth.
Bryant shakes his head at me, leaning toward Max. “You broke her out—why?” I take this time to watch Stacey. To see how she’s reacting to mine and Bryant’s back and forth, only she’s not looking at either of us, her attention is on Max. She seems on edge, probably trying to distract herself from the shitshow that’s playing out in front of her.
Max nods, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I did. I had been watching her for months since her father checked her in. Her characteristics were like nothing that I’d seen before. A lot of the nurses had already put her into the schizophrenic category, before I had completed a full diagnostic.”
