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“Same thing.”
“It really isn’t.”
He taps his index finger against the table. “It took me six years to get an invite to this table. Another two to meet Michael. He gets here like that”—he snaps his fingers— “and is showered in gifts. You. The motorcycle. Hell, he’d probably give Cage a bit of Darcy if he asked.”
I frown, finally meeting his eye. “Motorcycle?”
He rolls his eyes and angles his whiskey glass to look at the ice. “Some fancy thing. He’s giving it to Cage tonight after his initiation.”
His initiation. Killing me.
Sweat climbs between my shoulder blades as realization slams into me.
It isn’t happening tomorrow.
It’s happening tonight.
“Here he is.” Christian’s smile is bitter as Cole takes his seat beside me, holding his hand out. I take it eagerly, climbing into his lap and settling in his arms. “We thought she’d killed you, Cage.” Cole doesn’t respond, and I rest my head against his neck. “Does he speak while he’s fucking you?”
“Maybe he only speaks to people he respects,” I snap, my fear fraying what little patience I have.
Christian crunches some ice between his teeth. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“Evening, gentlemen!” Felton announces, clapping as he enters the room. I glance over the chair to see a smiling Darcy at his side, her cheeks flush, her hair giving that ‘recently fucked’ look.
“Two hours,” Cole whispers in my ear.
Two hours. We just have to survive two hours.
Or, more accurately, I do.
Chapter 13
Cole
“Finish your drinks, then we’ll crack open the champagne.” Felton takes his seat at the head of the table, and Darcy sits to his left. “Sunday, Darcy has something she’d like to say to you.”
Instinctively, I tighten my arm around Sunday’s waist, keeping her body flush with mine.
Darcy sighs heavily. “I’m sorry, Sunday. I should never have accused you of such an awful thing.”
Felton raises his brows. “And?”
“And I shouldn’t have hit you.” She reaches across the table, and Sunday reluctantly takes her offered hand. “Do you forgive me, bestie?”
Sunday nods, clearly forcing a smile. “Of course.”
“Goodie! I hate bad blood. It makes me feel all icky.” Darcy shakes out her entire body and shudders. “I feel so much better! Don’t you?”
Sunday leans back into me. “I do.”
As bottles of champagne are delivered to the table, Sunday remains glued to me. The phone she stole wasn’t mine, but it wasn’t difficult to unlock it and call my team. They located us, but we’re hours away from anyone trusted enough to come in and get us. I can work with two hours, though. It won’t be long until this place is filled with armed men on my side, and we’ll all be taken in for questioning. Tracker, my commanding officer, knows about Sunday, too. He’ll take care of her until I can figure out how to slip my cover and start a life with her.
Tracker could hear it in my voice the moment I brought Sunday up that I was ready to leave. Given what I’ve done for them, and how much I’ve worked, he won’t fight me on it.
“Where’s Daddy Maddox?” Darcy asks, giddily watching her champagne glass being filled by Felton.
Felton shrugs. “Getting ready, I imagine.”
