The snow outside, full of thick snowflakes, looks cool.Comforting.Not at all suffocating like the blinding cheer beside me—a noose around my neck. People stand laughing, placing orders at the glass counter, while others share stories further back.
Even the soft jade-green wall cannot soothe me. It’s too hot, too full. The windows are wide and exposed, and there isn’t a clear path to an exit.
What if an assassin shows up here? My eyes track every person who enters, lingering on their bags. A bomb can fit inside the smallest of handbags, and my shoulders hitch higher as I chew on my cheek.
I’m too exposed. Why did I agree to this date?
Because I needed out of the house. After waking up on the couch—alone—I spent another hour looking through folders. No one sticks out as being in the Board’s pocket—or maybeeveryonedoes. They did start the clan. They are as intertwined as the O’Brien name.
When Killian returned, with a smear of blood on his neck and smelling like spicy aftershave, I had to escape.
Jealousy sours my gut—it’s my own fault. I told him to leave, that I can’t be an effective leader if he’s haunting my home. Maybe he went off and found someone else who wants him?
So, I grab my phone, the cracked screen lying against the wall of my office, and respond to Reese’s text. Hayes isn’t wrong—I don’t like him. We’re not anything official. But I needed space—a moment of normalcy, where the weight of the world isn’t resting on my shoulders.
The jealousy from earlier doesn’t dissipate. Holding the cup of black coffee to my chest, I let it burn me, char me to the bone. Linwood might have wanted me to remember who I belong to—who owns my soul—but this pain reminds me of the cost of loving the Reaper.
Someone bumps into the table, and I grab the knife on my thigh. They make a lame excuse, Reese holding a fork of dripping Caesar salad to his mouth. He doesn’t see what I do—the dangers lurking in the shadows, or the clandestine hitmen who want my head. Every movement sets my teeth on edge and my heart racing.
“It’s packed,” Reese says, glancing around. “You’d think getting so close to the holidays, it’d slow down.”
I make a sound that could be agreement. I don’t know—I’m glaring at the lumbering giant who takes off to the back.
Sipping from my mug, I give him an annoyed look. “It’s loud.”
“Is it?” He tilts his head. “Maybe I’m used to it. I come here all the time.”
The searing heat of the mug grounds me, and my skin grows uncomfortable. Blinking at him, I roll my lips. “Oh.”
Placing the fork down, he wipes his face. “Is something on your mind?” I still, and he smiles sweetly. “You’re distracted. I think I’ve told you the same story three times since we got here.”
Did he? Was I so focused on looking for a possible enemy, I forgot about him?
I should feel guilty about that, but I don’t. Reese’s emotional health pales in comparison to the growing attempt on my life—on my siblings’ lives.
“You can tell me anything.”
I really can’t.
“I’m a great listener.”
Is he?I’ve never noticed.
He sighs. “I want to be let in a little bit. But if you don’t want that—” he breaks off, glancing around. Swallowing, he shrugs. “I understand.”
Taking a large gulp of my coffee, I shift in my seat. I don’t owe him anything, nor do I need to explain. But it would look super weird if I sat here, staring at him, not touching my salad.
“It’s work,” I offer. His eyes glint. “And family. Probably both.”
He nods sagely. “Life doesn’t make things easy.”
Scoffing, I look away, eyes tracking the snow as it drifts across the window. “No, it doesn’t.”
He pushes his plate to the side, folding his hands onto the table. When I don’t say anything else, he rubs his cheek. “I want to stay—especially to talk more. But I’m already past my lunch break. Why don’t you stay?” He gestures to my plate and takes out his wallet. “I’ll handle the bill. You sit and have some time to think. Maybe all the answers will come to you with a bang?”
My shoulders drop, exhaustion pulling on my features. “Thanks.”
He’s not pushing—not that he ever does. And I’m glad for it.
