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"Itisbullshit, Priest, and you know it." Finn folds his arms across his chest.
Edward leans back in his chair and taps his fingers together.
"Anger, fear, aggression. The dark side are they, but sometimes one has to give in to temptation to find oneself," Enzo murmurs.
Behind him, Jagger groans. "Care to translate that for us, Yoda?"
"I heard what that asshole said to her." Enzo looks between me and Rick. "Rick did the right thing. If he hadn’t, I’d have lost respect for him."
I stiffen. "You heard what my ex said?"
"He’s your ex?" Rick asks in a hard voice.
I shuffle my feet.
"Gio, answer me." He infuses his voice with a command that slices through to my core. A tone that insists I obey. A pitch that hooks into a primal part of me deep inside and insists I answer.
Before I can stop myself, I find myself nodding. I’m not looking at him, but I sense him stiffen. Damn, why does it feel like I’ve done something wrong? I didn’t engage with that bastard. He's the one who grabbed me, and Rick's the one who reacted when I didn’t need him to fight my battle. Also, there is no connection between Dennis and me anymore, so why do I still feel like I owe Rick an explanation? I keep my gaze averted and scowl at Enzo. "Thanks for feeding his ego," I snap.
Enzo’s features soften. "I understand why you feel responsible, but you don’t need to be. Rick did the right thing and almost all of us agree."
"Almost?" I frown.
"The Prick?" Rick drawls.
"The Prick," Finn agrees.
"The Prick?" I look between them.
"That’s Caspian’s call sign, one he’s not happy about," Enzo adds.
"Never known a name to be more apt." Manning smirks.
"He’ll come around," Rick declares.
I turn on him. "And if he doesn’t?"
"He will, end of story." He cuts his palm through the air in a sign that says he won’t brook any argument. I glower at him, and he meets my gaze with a raised eyebrow, as if daring me to defy him. Which I so badly want to do, but I’m not stupid enough to do it in front of everyone. I haven’t known him too long, but common sense dictates it’s best to pick up on this when we’re alone. So I contend myself with glowering back at him. And that, for some reason, makes his lips twitch.Bastard.
"And what about Dennis?" Edward cuts in.
"What about him?" Rick wrenches his gaze away from me and some of the tension drains out of my muscles. Being in such close proximity to him is like imbibing a testosterone overload, one that’s making my belly quiver and my breasts tighten in anticipation. I shuffle my feet, then squeeze my thighs together, in the hope of relieving some of that tension in my core. Only he senses it, for his nostrils flare. He doesn’t look at me, though, thank god.It must be my imagination that he’s as tuned into me as I am toward him, right?
Edward’s phone rings. He looks down at his screen and his gaze widens. He answers the phone. "Priest." He listens to whoever is on the other side, then his brows knit. He rubs the back of his neck, looks at Rick, then nods again. He sets down the phone and his features tighten.
"What?" I clear my throat. "What is it?"
14
Rick
"No, absolutely not. You are not doing this." She paces back and forth across the floor of the living room. We’re back at the house, and the rest of the team are sprawled around in the space.
Finn lounges in the chair opposite me. Enzo and Manning take up most of the couch, while Jagger leans a hip against the wall. The TV on the wall has been turned off—for the first time since we’ve occupied the house—a measure of how serious the topic of discussion is.
Caspian stands with his feet wide apart, a sneer on his face. The rest of the guys take up the chairs that’ve been dragged in from the rest of the house. All twenty of them are here. Guess there’s some use for the group chat Finn has instituted. Not that I’m part of it. But Finn had shared the message on my behalf and the guys responded at once. Now their gazes are trained on the woman who stands in the middle of the room and scowls at me. Her golden eyes crackle with fire. Her blonde hair is piled up in its usual bun. She hasn’t changed out of her work clothes or her heels, while the rest of us are in our jeans and sweatshirts.
"This is not going to help things." She turns on Finn. "Why don’t you make him see sense?"
