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“You are, Carter,” Tristan replies a bit begrudgingly. He gives me another glance. “Everything is fine, Isabella. We’ll try to keep it down for you, okay?”
I can see this exchange is only pushing Carter further and further down a deep hole, and I can’t leave them in the aftermath. Not like this. Things with Nicolas have already been rough for Carter, and there’s no saving Tristan from the mounting blame that Carter has been throwing his way lately.
They have been so close, so trusting of one another for so long that I don’t understand why they are being so hostile now. There’s a cold, taut thread between them that’s ready to snap at any moment.
Lorenzo is in the group, too, which is what I don’t understand. Last I knew, things were fine with him, but I’ve come to learn that the Blackthorne loyalty line can change at any given moment. Whatever happened tonight—or was said among these men—is now trickling into our living room.
And it’s not going away anytime soon.
I descend the staircase and come to Carter’s side. He looks unapproachable to most, especially with this stern scowl on his face, but it’s nothing I haven’t faced from him before. He stands straighter, like he’s trying to ignore me, but he crumbles and falls after a moment.
He melts after a quick press of my lips onto the hollow of his throat where I can reach. His arm crawls around my back, and I sink seamlessly into his side. His scent is strong, like his voice that woke me up, but he holds me loosely, kindly, and I know I’ve calmed him down by now.
“What is going on here, Carter? Why are you upset?”
He flicks his wrist, the men scattering to the kitchen—keeping their heads down in the process. “This isn’t a conversation for you to concern yourself with, dove. It’s complicated and stressful. I don’t want to bother you with it, okay?”
I can’t help but look back at the three men who once had a strong bond with my lover. Looking back at Carter, it’s clear that he’s not the same. His demeanor is cold, his face is rung with exhaustion, and I can see that his posture has changed significantly.
He’s bent forward just enough for me to notice, his arm around me tighter than it should be in a relaxed setting. It’s as though he’s on edge constantly, and it doesn’t bode well for his mind… or his body. To be precise, I can’t recall the last time he’s slept over four hours in a night, and it shows.
“Carter,” I say, pressing my hand to his taut chest. “You need to drop this for the night.”
“What do you mean, dove?”
“You need to set this aside for the night. Did you eat at Anita’s?”
“Yeah, I had soup. What are you talking about?”
“I think you need rest.” I lean into his chest, his arm around my back, ready to snap my spine if I’m not careful around this topic. “Carter, I’m worried about you. You’re not on good terms with your closest family members anymore. Tristan gives me a look, and you get all fired up about it. And then there is Lilian…”
His fingers pinch my chin, pulling my face up and extending my throat against his chest. The coldness in his grip is enough to make me worried, to make me sick, and I can’t help but want to wiggle out of his grasp, but it doesn’t help.
He’s frozen in time, his eyes glazed over in wrath that even the most volatile volcano doesn’t compare with.
“Carter,” I lead.
“Tell me what he said about Lilian today.”
It takes me a moment to understand what he’s talking about. I did happen to go to the phone store with Tristan this morning, and he helped me pick out a few electronics for the house that I knew Carter would appreciate. We got some minor security pieces, a cell phone, and a new laptop after mine got drenched.
The conversation between us was relatively light, and while Tristan has felt a cold shoulder from his boss lately, it wasn’t like we were bashing Carter. It’s obvious in his eyes that he doesn’t seem to agree with that assumption, and it’s as if he is accusing me of doing something worse than just asking a few questions.
“Carter, I just told him about her giving me her number, that’s it.”
“You still have it? You didn’t call it, did you?”
My brows crease with dismay. “What? Why would I call her, Carter?”
“Bring it to me. Right now. I’m burning that note.”
“Carter, I need you to calm down, I don’t understand why you’re so—”
A deafeningcrashinterrupts our conversation immediately. It sounds like glass and metal, the noise catching everyone off guard, from the current to the most recent recipients of Carter’s scolding. I sink into his side, Tristan and Lorenzo already drawing their weapons while Nicolas pauses to load his.
I don’t like the sight of guns, not after being taken by Jacob Lacey, and the presence of so many in an already tough situation is terrifying. Carter pulls a pistol out of his back holster, his finger lining the side of the barrel while we all stare at the staircase, waiting for the culprit of the noise.
After a heftythump, I shiver and press harder into his hip.
