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Don’t cry.
My hands set to tremors, so I pull Cassidy and Kelly into the room. Shoshanna follows with heavy footsteps.
I shut the door.
Immediately, Kelly rushes over to the pillow stack, claiming the debris of my emotional collapse as a stage for her to play on. She dives into it. Despite the sombre energy, the barking tears, my lips twitch with a smile for her.
"Did you know?" Cassidy asks, risking a glance at her daughter before continuing. "Did you know they were going to leave us here?" Her voice is soft and defeated.
There was nothing provocative about her question. It was spoken with genuine, caring interest.
I walk over to the window, gazing down at Dubai, a sense of dissonance finding me as I reflect on the last few days. Think about the wound below his eyes. The way he seemed dead-set on using my body often the past few days. And… the last-minute holiday.
"Be the blood of the Cosa Nostra."
Glancing back at Clay's sisters-in-law, I watch them move around the suite, positioning themselves on the sofa where they wait—
Are they waiting for me to do something, say something?
What brought them to this room?
To me?
At first thought, it was a babysitting mission. The whole 'ensure I eat.’ Behave, even… but now I'm not so convinced that's the whole picture. "Clay told me last night," I admit to them, wishing I had more information to offer as uncertainty thickens the air between them, as they look at me with intent.
Shoshanna sighs angrily, focusing now on cooing her son to sleep, a visual declaration to deter questions. So I turn to Cassidy, asking, "Did you two know that they were going to leave early this morning?"
"Only last night," Cassidy confirms. "Max told me he was going to get revenge—" She pauses, hesitation holding her tongue while pity softens her gaze on mine. "Are you okay with what is happening?"
I'm not sure what she means. About my dad's involvement? I think.Like, am I entirely on their side?The urge to stand by Clay's decisions seems to solidify inside my spine. Needing them to see my irrefutable loyalty, I simply say, "Yes."
She swallows hard, uncertain. "Has Clay explained everything to you? About—"
"About my dad? Yes."
"And what he did to me? The attack. How he tried to have my brother killed?"
"I know all of it."
She looks down at her fingernails as she peels a film of pink from the surface, saying, "Max apologised to me, ya know? For it taking so long. Like I care. Like it's been on my mind all these years. That was him projecting his own guilt and regret on me. Not mine…God, he was in so much pain last night." Her voice wobbles, and she bounces her eyes to her daughter, who is now building a three-wall cubby with my 'emotional-support' pillows. Cassidy looks back at me. "I don't want them to kill your dad, Fawn. Of course I don't—"
"I don't know him," I state straightaway, defensive, and wishing I wasn't, but I need them to know who I stand beside. I'm not a victim here. Not collateral damage. I don't want them to lump me in that camp. I'm the same as them.
"When Max needs to do something…" Cassidy trails off, muttering to herself through a small nod. "I need to let him do it." She peers her sad hazel eyes up at me. "He carries so much inside, so much weight. He just… he has all these contradictory pieces, ya know? He's so sweet. So…gentle.My big gentle menace. And then he's so…cold and hard.I don't pretend to understand, but I support him and whatever he feels heneedsto do. Stopping a man like Max Butcher from doing what he feels is right would be like wrapping his heart in chains. I could never do it. It's part of him… And I love and accept all his parts." She suddenly gazes at Shoshanna, who has relaxed her shoulders, as if the anger is no longer twisting her muscles tight. "We don't need to understand them, Shosh."
Shoshanna seems pained as she says, "Bronson is too fragile to do this alone. He needs me. He knew I'd fight him on this. He knew I'd want to go. To help. I can help. I'm a doctor for God's sake. What if they need me? What ifheneeds me—" She looks down at Stone. Then inhales angrily and exhales hard, enforcing calm. She lowers her voice. "The crazy son of a bitch didn't even tell me."
My heart hurts. "He just left?"
Her expression softens, letting her guard slip. "I should have known. Last night when he got back, he had this look in his eyes. They were sogreen. And when they're green… Well,crazyhappens. I thought it was amoment.He has them sometimes.
"After everything he's seen, done, been through with that cunt Victoria, it's like there are days that the darkness consumes him. Circles him. And he needs me to hold him for hours sometimes. Like a child. My six-foot-five tattooed, bearded man-child.God, I love him so much. I—" She covers her mouth to smother a sob, then forces it away. "I was wrong. It was a lot more than a moment. Then I found a single rose and a note on the dresser this morning."
"What did the note say?" Cassidy asks.
She smiles tightly and gazes down at her sleeping babe, her amber irises swimming in tears now. "It said 'think about my boy.’"
Cassidy exhales hard. "That’s a good note."
