Page 25 of Traded

Liam taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “I asked Miles to meet us at the apartment.”

The atmosphere plunges, and it was pretty fucking low to begin with. It’s a battle to keep my voice down. “Why the fuckwould you do that? That wasn’t what we agreed.”

I want her to sleep as long as possible. I’d be happy if Liam just kept fucking driving, and ideally kept his mouth shut too.

He meets my eye through the mirror. “I think it’s a good idea. An outside perspective. A level head.”

“There’s going to be more than enoughoutside perspective,” I hiss. “This is a pack issue. You had no right—"

“You gave me lead on this,” he snaps back. Rosie stirs again, and all of us fall silent. Liam’s knuckles tighten against the wheel. “That’s what we agreed on. I can make this work, Cart, but you’ve got to work with me or everything’s gonna fall apart.”

“I agree,” Jonas murmurs, and I whip my head to look at him. He’s staring out of the window, as far away as he can get from the tension now saturating the air around us, but his words are resolute. “We have to be united in our approach.”

Of course you’d fucking say that, I almost bite, but I manage to hold it back.

If this doesn’t work, our pack will fracture, and Rosie will be in the middle. And that’s unacceptable to me.

We have to make this work. “I promised her a pack.Youpromised her a pack.”

“And that’s what we all want to give her.” Jonas spreads his hands placatingly, Liam switching lanes as we approach theturn-off. “A working pack with strong dynamics, Cart. A pack that’s right forallof us.”

They clearly had a few discussions throughout today that I wasn’t part of, and my mood darkens further. When I catch sight of our building in the distance, my mouth turns to ash. “You’re absolutely sure this can work?”

“I’m sure.” I sometimes wish I had Liam’s rigid certainty. Especially now. “It’s going to be tough, Cart. We talked about that too. If you shoot me down every time I manage this, we’re not going to get far.”

“She’s not an arrangement to be managed.” Fuckinghell.

“Rosie’s part of this pack,” he shoots back tightly. “And a pretty important part. So yes, in this, so we can move forward, she does need to be managed. All of us do. And if you can’t get on board as our pack leader, this will fail before it’s started. I can’t be the enforcer for this pack if I can’tenforce.”

I hate that fucking word. On the rink, sure, but not in a pack. In a family. “Don’t fuck this up.”

And especially not inmyfamily.

“Have a little faith,” he says drily. “Please.”

My head thumps back against the leather.

Between this and the agony searing through my shoulder, I’m not sure I’ve got any faith left in me. Digging in my pocket, I thumb open the plastic tub and send a mental apology to Elena before tipping a few pills down to top up the dosage.

Ihaveto be on top form.

Chapter eight

Floral Shirts and Shiny Suits

“Hey.”

I blink at Carter. His nose is barely an inch from mine, despite the mountain of fabric wrapped around me like a burrito. “Hey?”

A rough hand smooths over tangled hair. “You were out pretty hard there.”

I blink a few more times, buying time before tonight hits my memory bank like a puck to the head. My eyes slip down, but Carter brushes his finger over my eyelashes. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me.”

Sleep helped, but not much. My eyes start to burn all over again. “I don’t know what happened. I saw… I don’t know. But it was weird.”

“I know.” He swallows. “They told me.”

I wait. “Told you what?”