Page 84 of The Unravelings

“So Huxley, Amanda and I have had long discussions about your engagement gala.”

Oh, it’s a gala now. Not an engagement party. A whole fucking shindig. I’m guessing Amanda has tons of fun ideas on how to entertain people while she forces Hux’s hand into this bullshit marriage.

Poor guy. I almost feel sorry for him. Then, I remember how he scoffed at our girl’s memory and went along with this shammy bullshit.

Damn. Maybe I do need to lay off the drinks.

I stare at my champagne glass with narrowed eyes. This should be my enemy. Yet, I want more. Now, where’s that waiter with refills?

Huxley raises a brow, darting his eyes from Amanda to Franco.

“Oh? A discussion without me?”

Amanda giggles, swatting at his arm playfully. “Oh, I figured you were so busy! Besides, I’ve been dreaming of this since I was a little girl.” Her cheeks heat slightly.

Yeah, I bet she’s been planning their wedding her entire life. She’s been mooning after his ass since preschool. Can anyone say psycho?

I’m drawn out of my internal musings by a discreet elbow into my ribs. Again. This fucker. He doesn’t fight at the Coliseum, but he’s about to if he doesn’t stop. I narrow my eyes at him, and he raises his brows.

“You’re thinking with your face again,” he huffs quietly, as the others around us talk. I instantly fix my expression, trying to look more neutral. Something that doesn’t say—I’m plotting murderers and shit. “Now you look constipated,” JJ mutters again, pulling away from me.

Well fuck. Can’t I ever win? The answer is no.

“A month? What’s the rush?” Hux asks in an even tone, taking a sip of his drink to hide the darkness clouding his features.

I must not be the only one plotting murders and hiding bodies in my head.

He may be able to fool the other goons with his blasé bullshit. But with JJ and me? Well, we see right through his transparent ass. Every faint twitch beneath his skin and every shuffle of his feet is like Morse code. Beep beep equals—he’s fucking pissed.

More pissed than when Franco ordered him to propose to her. More pissed than when Franco told him he was going to marry her out of obligation and nothing more, like he didn’t have any sort of choice in the matter. And well, I guess he doesn’t.

Our lives are not our own. We’re little pawns dancing to his tune.

“No rush,” Amanda says quickly, attempting to placate Hux.

That’ll never work. Not with her. She’s always been a whiny, miserable bully with her eyes on Hux. Somehow, she’s gotten her way. Again and again. It’s a never-ending cycle with her.

“It was the only time this space was available. Business is booming here. So we had to fit it in before the actual wedding.” Franco doesn’t elaborate further.

He doesn’t have to. And God knows Huxley won’t argue with him. Not a lot, at least. Or to his face. We all know the consequences of speaking our minds, and it’s not good. So, we’ll sneak back home and mock Franco behind his back like any loyal sons would do.

“Do I get any say in our celebration?” Hux’s jaw tics several times as his fingers flex at his side. Big breaths puff from between his lips, blowing out the frustration I’m sure he’s eager to get rid of.

Good. We can meet in the basement and shed some damn blood. I’m wired for it. Need it. Just like he does.

Amanda’s lips part, and she nods. “Of course! We can sit down and plan the party! You’re the groom after all. Maybe we can spend some time together.” She bats her eyelashes. “I can come over and we can…”

“No,” Hux huffs. “Not at my house.” Somewhere she’ll never be welcomed. It’s our sacred space. For now.

After the wedding, I have no clue what will happen. Will they be given a fancy new house around town to show off their newly acquired status, or will Franco force Amanda to move in with us? Fuck, I hope not. Whatever decision they make on our behalf, I’ll still be around, waiting for medical school while everyone else graduates and goes on to do whatever the hell it is they’ll do. The future holds so many unknowns, and it scares me more than I ever thought. Especially since we don’t get a say in our own lives.

I mean, I wanted to be a doctor when I was a kid. I wanted to help kids in situations like mine. Notice the signs of abuse and neglect and get them the help they need. It was all I ever dreamed of, besides the freedom of it all.

But now?

I’m not even on the path I saw myself going down. I’m studying for the betterment of the Syndicate. Not the kids. Or even myself. All so I can be the house doctor who tends to all the idiots’ wounds when they get shot for not clearing a place properly. Because Doctor Rhodes is on his way out and I’m on the way in, locked into the position for life. I’ve been training with him on the side, too. Add that to the list of bullshit Franco put on my plate.

Fuck me.