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Even if my father hadn’t given a shit about his daughters, in our world, treasures were protected. If they weren’t, then they were no longer treasures, which wouldn’t do as it lowered our value.
We were commodities, after all.
Always had been, and always would have been.
Even after we left the nest and made our own, because escaping the Bratva was impossible.
It was shameful, really, how happy I was the day after I’d murdered him. The dayafterI’d spilled blood, but if anything, I just felt free.
Liberated.
And now I was Brennan’s wife, that sensation was compounded to the point where it was like I could breathe again. All my life, I’d felt much as I had this morning, when he’d rested his weight on my chest. As Bagpipes drove me toward the Upper East Side, I felt lighter. So much lighter that a smile kept popping up from nowhere.
I was safe from everyone apart from him.
But I could deal with that. Would gladly deal with that.
For the moment, anyway.
I hadn’t just left one cage to be trapped in another with a more wicked beast than the one I’d clawed my way free of.
Speaking of which... if Brennan was going to take away myrealclaws, then I needed to start finding other ways to defend myself. And having access to a set of car keys was the first step in that plan.
“Bagpipes?”
“Yeah?”
“When we return to Brennan’s building, I need to drive.”
He arched a brow at me. “Why?”
“Because I get car sick.”
As we pulled up at a stop light, he shot me a dubious look. “You ain’t puked yet.”
“Yet being the operative word,” I told him just as dubiously. I knew an expensive car when I was sitting in one. “If you want to be the one cleaning up vomit from between the creases in the leather, well, that’s on you.”
He scowled. “You bullshitting me?”
“Why would I?” I groused back. “You think I want to drive in wall-to-wall traffic?”
Staring ahead at the traffic jam we found ourselves in, he heaved a sigh. “True. I wondered why you always drove, not your guards.” He tapped his hands on the steering wheel. “He’ll kill you if you scratch it.”
“I won’t scratch it,” I muttered, even as my mind was still fixated on the fact that he’d used the word ‘always.’
Brennan never had told me why he’d turned up at the stables yesterday, had he?
Yet here Bagpipes was, implying that he’d been watching me for a while.
Why?
I’d sensed a tail, but how long had I driven around without knowing someone was watching me?
The thought was unnerving enough for me to glance into the wing mirror to check out who was driving behind us.
“In fact, if you scratch it, it won’t just be you he’ll be killing, so you’d better be careful because it’s both our asses on the line if you drive,” Bagpipes muttered, evidently unaware that he’d just dropped a bombshell.
At least, what felt like a bombshell to me.
