Page 49 of Pistols & Peonies

Guess there isn’t anything left to hide anymore.

CHAPTER 17

Kane

The first forty-eight hours after an incident are the most critical. I know this from decades of cleaning up other people’s messes– standard protocol is to control the variables, isolate the damage, and prevent it from compounding. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing for the past two days: avoiding the scene of my own crime and the woman I committed it with.

So far, it’s working. Spending restless nights at my lake house, commuting into the city for the daily grind. Distance as discipline. If I don’t see her, this remains contained. It can be reduced to a one-off. An anomaly.

Except anomalies don’t usually feel like the first step in a pattern, and this one does. Every time I so much as think of Violet, I’m right back there in the elevator, losing control and railing her against the wall like a goddamn savage. Letting instinct take over where judgment should’ve held the line.

It was a mistake; a breach of discipline I should’ve anticipated and prevented. Violet never consented to our bond. The pull of it puts a strain on both of us, but I’m the one with rank, age, and the responsibility to resist it.

I failed.

I told myself I had it under control, but in that moment, I slipped. I lost all sense of rationality and took advantage of her vulnerability. I let it happen, knowing it shouldn’t.

And because I don’t trust myself not to do it again, the only viable solution is distance.

The problem is, that ‘solution’ has resurrected my issues with my wolf. Once again, I’m barely sleeping, constantly run-down, and foggy in a way that makes every decision feel a half-second slower than it should.

This Pairing is starting to feel like a goddamn death sentence. Still, I’m pushing through, sticking to my regular routine while my wolf eats me alive.

That’s how I end up slumped behind the desk in my office, neck-deep in enforcer reports that only make my headache worse. It’s the same bullshit over and over– minor issues that shouldn’t even warrant a slap on the wrist, let alone a write-up. A waste of my fucking time, filed by rookies desperate to make an impression on Alpha.

A knock comes at the door, and my eyes flick to the clock in the corner of my computer monitor. Almost lunchtime. I consider ignoring it, but then a second knock comes louder, more insistent. Whoever it is isn’t going away, so I bark for them to come in.

The door creaks open and Frazier steps over the threshold, immediately dipping his head in submission. The kid is genuinely terrified of me. As he should be.

He clears his throat as he nervously meets my gaze. “Morning, Commander. Do you have a moment?”

“Depends,” I grumble, rubbing at the tension that’s taken up permanent residence between my eyes. “Is this gonna piss me off?”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” he replies, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I’m following up on that… special project you requested.”

I straighten in my chair, snapping to attention. The ‘special project’ I put him on was finding out what club Violet works at. “And?” I ask, arching a brow expectantly.

Frazier shakes his head, his shame calibrated just right. “She’s not on the payroll at any of the nightclubs in the area, pack-affiliated or otherwise. I can dig deeper, but it would help to know what I’m looking for. The type of club, at least, or where–”

“If I knew,” I cut in, “I wouldn’t have asked you to find it.”

He bows his head, face flushing. “Of course. I’m sorry, sir. I’ll keep digging until I do.”

“Get me an answer by the end of the week, or I’ll have to reconsider whether you’re the right fit to be my second,” I murmur, giving him a pointed look.

He blanches and jerks a nod, though it’s an empty threat. Frazier’s a hell of a lot more tolerable than the other try-hards angling to work under me– and, most importantly, I know he isn’t gunning for my rank. He’s the type that craves approval, not power.

I wave a hand in dismissal, swiveling in my chair to take in the skyline beyond the window as Frazier starts backing toward the door. There’s still a stack of reports demanding my attention, but I can’t focus worth a damn. Especially now, knowing zero progress has been made in uncovering whatever secrets Violet’s keeping.

I haven’t been able to shake the image of her in the bathroom that night, bloody and bruised. It cracked something inside me wide open. I may not have wanted this Pairing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit about her safety. The thought of someone hurting her makes me murderous, and since she won’t tell me who it was or how it happened, I’m left with only one option.

Control the variables. Manage her movements. Know where she is at all times.

“Hey,” I say, stopping Frazier in his tracks as I swivel my chair back around to face him. “Is there still an open office admin position downstairs?”

He nods quickly. “Yes, sir. Interviews are being held on Friday.”

“Cancel them,” I grumble. “I’ll send my mate down to fill it.”