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Vaden places his glass down on the desk. “We’ll wait.”
I don’t want to choose right now to ask what the fuck the shipment is since we got off the plane fast and everything happened too quickly. I knew there was a shipment because of what I overheard with Priest, but I didn’t know what.
Priest doesn’t move when War opens the door as both he and Vaden exit. I stay seated, eyes locked on her and the way she’s following War. Something is definitely there.
“Next time, Katsia?” Priest’s words are low as he rounds the bath, kneeling behind her. Her whole body changes. Her shoulders stiffen and her eyes widen as the color of her face turns ashen. It’s like watching a deer realize the lion is about to eat. “Send a text to say so.” He reaches for the wet strands of her hair, moving them gently off her shoulder, only Priest is anything but gentle and I know that the next thing he’s going to do won’t be.
He grabs her by the back of the neck, forcing her head to the side.
She winces, her fear exploited. “My time is precious, and you are not.” He releases her so hard she falls into the middle of the bath, before strolling toward the door, placing a cigarette into his mouth and lighting the end.
Finally, I stand and follow, because what the fuck is happening right now and why do I get the feeling I’ve been left out of shit that I shouldn’t have?
I don’t bother to talk to any of them as we make our way back to our cars. I don’t even know what to be angry about at this moment. And I’m not sure where my anger is coming from. The fact that I don’t know what theshipmentis and that I thought this was just one of their frequent visits to ensure the island is being run right—which if I looked closer, I don’t think it is—or that War and Katsiaclearlyhave some kind of… thing.
And now I’m angry that I’m angry at that.
Fuck.
“Halen, meet us at the Hutt.”
I open my door and ignore War, slamming it closed behind myself and blowing out a heated breath. I squeeze the steering wheel to numb the prickles of rage burning through me. When it swings open again, I half expect to see War, but instead it’s Priest.
He kneels to my eye level. “You wanna start with the diva shit, save it for when we’re back in Riverside.” I don’t bother looking at him, keeping my eyes locked ahead. “I mean it, Halen. Meet us at the Hutt and I will fill you in.”
“Will you, though?” I snap, and I hate that it comes out as bitter as it tastes. “Because the way I see it, I’ve been kept in the dark.”
“Yeah?” He raises his brows. “Of course, the fuck you have. You’re new here, remember? Back there, you’re Halen Hayes, the golden daughter and royalty, but here, you’re a fucking King. Soactlike it!” He slams the door in my face and I jolt in my seat.
Agh!
I slam my car into reverse and direct it out of the long driveway, not bothering to wait for any of them. I know where I’m going and I know this island.
I need a drink.
I drive toward the main street, parking my car outside the town square. Reaching for my phone, I hit dial.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Speak.”
I rest my head against my chair, blinking up at the ceiling. “The boys have their ways. I don’t know anything, and they’re drip-feeding me little bits.” I swallow past the swell of my throat.
A door closes in the background. “Amica, you need to understand that this is new for them too. They’re adapting as much as you girls are, but listen to my words.”
I press my phone against my ear.
“You are Halen Hayes. My daughter. A prodigy. You belong there just as much as they do. If they forget that, remind them.”
My throat burns when I swallow once more as I rasp, “I hope I make you proud one day.”
“I’m always proud of you.”
After talking with Dad, I jump out of the car and look both ways before running across the road. The BAR sign flashes from a wooden panel, as I push through the lumber doors. The chatter quietens instantly, but the music continues to flow. I spot a dark area nestled at the end of the bar, passing girls dancing on tables as half-naked men holding serving trays duck and weave between patrons.
One heads straight for me as I slide into the booth. A single low light hangs in the middle of the circular table, offering shades of jacinth. The waiter stops near my table, and I trace theblack paint that’s smudged over his tight abs, before following up to where it’s smeared below his eyes.
