Page 149 of War and his Queen

“But nothing,” he snaps, his fingers crawling to the back of my neck. “And yeah, I’m well aware that the same can’t be said for you.”

I wince.

“Oh, are we surprised that she’s a slut?” the girl sings off in the background.

I sidestep War, taking purposeful strides to her.

“Halen…”

I ignore his pleas, picking her up by the throat and shoving her up against the wall. Decayed wallpaper crumbles frombehind her head, and my grip tenses hard enough for the sharp tips of my nails to sink into the side of her skin. “I could tear your throat out right here and not bat an eye.”

Her nails scratch at mine in a desperate attempt to get me off her. “But these shoes are expensive.”

“You killed my boyfriend. He was—" she wheezes. “He was Candyman’s son.”

Her body falls to the floor with my parting words, “Call me a slut again, bitch, and I’ll hang you from the ceiling by your tits while my brother records a porn with your corpse.”

War snickers from behind me and I step backward until I’m crashing against the hardness of his chest.

With a grip around my forearm, he spins me around to face him. “We’ll figure this out.”

“I need everyone’s attention.”

I’ve fought it too long. Pop is right. Everyone is right. I can’t do it on my own anymore, not even with Pop.

I need to turn around and take the other road.

War

I can sit hereand think about all the ways we have fucked things up in our lives, or I can do what she said. Even as she whispered those words into my ear, I can’t trust her. I want to. Fuck but I want to, and I do. I trust her with my whole fucking life. I just don’t trust her with her own.

Priest follows me through the front entrance of the Castle, and we drop the set of keys into the bowl near the front door.

“She all right?” Katsia asks from behind me, and the muscles in my shoulders stiffen.

Priest’s eyes shift between the two of us, before he disappears down the hallway to the back wing of the house, also known as Bishop’s office.

“Why the fuck did you say that to her?” I could kill her. Put everyone out of their misery. But then that would leave River in the firing line of Perdita, and, well…

“I didn’t!” Her arms fold in front of herself, her cheeks reddening.

She sighs. “Okay, so I didn’t correct her, but it wasn’t to get her jealous. I thought if I had implied that poor, innocent child was ours she wouldn’t run. That she’d, I don’t know, fight me?”

I remain silent. I can’t figure either of them out. They hate each other, I know that much, but there’s something else there. Dare I say a level of respect from both sides…

“She’s back, though, so that’s all that matters. I’ll be—" She jerks her head toward the kitchen, where Kyrin and Scarlet are. “—there when—if—she needs me.”

I ignore her and push away from the table, making my way down the long corridor to Bishop’s office. I open the door to everyone.

Bishop sits behind his desk, Priest parked up by the bay window with Vaden, and Nate and Brantley seated around the boardroom table near the back wall. Madison, Tillie, Lilith, Eli, and Saint are also there, with one more person. Tate. Madison’s crazy best friend and mother to the baby out in the kitchen that Katsia tried to pass off as her own.

Hector’s towering body rests on the edge of Bishop’s desk, and right there, knees to chest on a satin wingback chair, is Halen. The hoodie she’s wearing is pulled over her head, and her arms secure her knees to her chest.

“Amica.” Bishop is the first to break the tense silence. “We are your family. You know that anything you have done won’t matter, baby.”

Her body starts rocking a little, and I scrape one of the empty chairs up beside her. I need to give her space, not drag her onto my lap and swallow her whole.

For now.

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