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“I know, I came down a little while ago fucking famished and had that exact look on my face when I saw the contents of that fridge.” He chuckles.
“Can you run me over to the store and I can pick some things up? I’d go on my own, but you know, rival criminal organization wants me dead and all that.” I half laugh despite it being far from funny. Every time I make light of the situation, I think Everett’s head is going to explode, but I’m hoping Tommy will be able to see the funny side.
His head drops back and he barks out a laugh. “I see the dilemma.” He nods. “Get dressed, we’ll leave in ten.”
I quickly scurry back down the hallway and throw on the first clothes I find. Normally I put a lot of effort into my appearance because any time I don’t, I end up in the gossip columns with a drug habit, a breakup, or an eating disorder. You name it, I’ve had it as far as they’re concerned. But today, I just don’t have it in me.
I’m surprised I could sleep last night considering what the day will bring. Death and destruction, two things we’ve had entirely too much of recently. And yet I slept soundly because Everett held me through the night. His strong arms holding me together when I should be falling apart.
It’s still early and the rest of the house is quiet apart from muffled voices in the office. I think about interrupting them to see if there’s anything they need, I even get as far as raising my hand to knock, until I hear the words they’re saying.
“We can’t tell Wynter,” Storm says.
“I know. We’ve been over this every which way, and her knowing only puts her in more danger than she’s already in.” Everett sighs.
Part of me wants to burst into the room and demand to know what they’re talking about, but the other part is hurt. I’ve proven myself over and over again. Every time they’ve expected me to fall apart, I’ve risen, and yet they’re still keeping shit from me. It would probably hurt if I wasn’t so fucking used to being kept in the dark.
Anger radiates through my body as I make my way toward the front of the house where Tommy is waiting for me. There’s a good chance he doesn’t know what they’re talking about in there either, so there’s no point asking, and even if he knew, he probably wouldn’t tell me.
“You ready?” Tommy asks from the doorway. His tattooed arms are covered with a long sleeve Henley, the black ink only visible on his neck and hands, but that doesn’t stop him from looking intimidating as hell.
“Absolutely.” I force a smile to my lips.
Tommy’s Aston Martin sits idle at the bottom of the steps. He must have moved it while he waited for me to get ready, and the moment I lower myself into the sports car, the engine roars to life and we’re speeding away from the estate.
My phone vibrates in my hand and my eyebrows pull together as I read over the text a few times. The message from Clara, my assistant, doesn’t sit right with me. There’s something about the words she’s chosen that has alarm bells ringing in the back of my mind.
Hey Wyn, any chance you can pop into the office asap this morning, I need your signature on a few things.
The request would be perfectly reasonable if I hadn’t been signing documents electronically on my tablet for the last few years. I can’t remember the last time I signed an actual piece of paper, and there’s nothing in the office that would need my immediate attention. I’ve purposely been scaling back on work since Mom and Dad died to allow myself time to heal.
“We need to go to the office,” I say.
“Why?” Tommy looks over at me, his eyebrows furrowed with an edge of annoyance.
“I think something’s wrong.”
He stares at me for another moment, but something about my eyes must tell him I’m not overreacting and he takes the turn onto the highway without another question. He’s always had more faith in me than the other guys have.
“Call Everett to tell him where we’re going. I don’t feel like dying for taking his woman somewhere without telling him,” Tommy says as he weaves in and out of traffic with practiced ease. Driving with him should be terrifying because every time I peer over at the speed we’re going faster than the last, but the rush is almost comforting, and the sooner we get to the office and make sure Clara is okay, the better.
I unlock my phone and my thumb hovers over Everett’s name. They’re keeping secrets from me, and the defiant streak my brothers love to point out surges to life. Before I’ve consciously decided what I’m doing, I’m typing out a fake message and not hitting send, all the while keeping Tommy in the corner of my eye to make sure he doesn’t catch on.
They can’t be mad when we get back, I did as I was told and took one of the big strong men to protect me, so what harm can it do them not to know where I am for a little while.
52
Everett
Ihate this.
I hate keeping shit from Wynter after I promised I would never keep another secret from her again, and even though it would put her in more danger, and hurt her more, to know what we’ll be doing tonight while she sits at home, I still hate every single second of making the plan without her.
Wynter has been incredible these last few days. Whenever we’re out of ideas, she has one. Whenever we feel dejected, she’s the ray of hope we need. And to leave her out this time around just feels wrong. She’s going to fucking lose it when she finds out, and I have no doubt in my mind that she’ll target that anger at me. But it’s worth it if she’s safe and won’t ever have to know what the darkest sides of Russo’s business look like. She doesn’t need that, and I won’t show her unnecessarily.
As much as Wynter wants to be involved and she has held her own every step of the way, there are things about what we do that would break her, things that would make her see us in a different light, and that’s not something I’m willing to risk.
Storm blows out a long breath and rests his head on the backrest of his chair. We’re all tired, but this is weighing on him differently than the rest of us. Now his dad is gone, there’s no one to go to for advice, no one to speak from experience, and although he hasn’t said it aloud, he’s feeling a little lost right now. The whole family is relying on him, and I don’t envy the guy for that. “What time are you moving out?”
