spent straining for him, she wanted to drag him into an unused room and let him devour her.
“Hey, where’s Adam?” Zara asked.
And like that, everything hot in Frankie went cold.
Zara was scanning the men in confusion. “Did he drive separately?”
Mark pulled back from Ava, looking concerned and, though he tried to hide it, hurt. “Actually, Zara, he didn’t show. He didn’t say anything to you?”
“What? No.” Zara’s good mood died like air in a vacuum. “Where is he?”
Mark glanced at his guards, shaking his head. “We’re not sure.”
“Maybe his phone died?” Ava suggested, looking concerned.
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t ditch your bachelor party.” Zara was frowning. “Um. I could run home and check if he’s there. We live on Blueridge Crest; it’s like five minutes away.”
Mark said, “Actually, I sent guards—”
“Don’t we need to start the ceremony?” Frankie cut in, feeling like shit as she used etiquette to tie a rope around her friend’s feet. She didn’t want Zara out of her sight while her boyfriend was an unknown quantity. “We’re already running late. He’s probably had a family emergency, or has come down with something and gone to bed.”
“Oh.” Zara glanced around like she’d misplaced something that should have been attached to her. His absence didn’t make sense. “I guess. Yeah. He’s probably just sleeping off a bug. Um. I’ll set up.”
As Zara moved to the far side of the lounge where the Keleharian bridal ceremony would take place, Frankie turned away from the group, scrubbing a hand over her face. Guilt clamped her lungs. Jesus. She hadn’t thought about Zara returning home tonight to find Adam missing. She couldn’t wait until morning to tell her—she’d have to do it immediately after the bridal shower.
Frankie scrubbed her face harder as dread dropped her heart like a stone. How was that conversation supposed to go?
Hey. So, funny story. We have reason to believe your boyfriend is a murderous psychopath. Left field, right? Remember when you thought about breaking up with him, but I said to wait because he’s a good guy? My bad.
This was messed up. This was so—
The back of her neck prickled and Kris murmured, “Can we talk?” from directly behind her.
She dropped her hand, but didn’t turn around. “You’ve been told everything.”
He paused. “We need to talk.”
She could do with the excuse to steady herself. Possibly while wrapped around him. “Alright.”
Fingers brushing his as she took the lead, she crossed the vacant dance floor and passed two guards stationed by the swinging doors to the kitchen. The chefs had departed for the night, leaving the stainless-steel space half-lit and silent. Pressing both palms to the metal table in the center of the floor, she lowered her head and let out a long breath as the doors flapped shut behind her.
“Frankie,” Kris said, standing just inside the door.
“Give me a second.”
“Frankie.”
Slanting him a glance, she expected to see a suggestion shining in his eyes. Or, perhaps, the release of his suppressed anger at Adam’s disappearance now that it was safe to show it.
Instead, his attention was on the floor in front of him.
“What?” she asked.
Lines gathered on his brow and quietly, he said, “I need you to leave.”
“As soon as there’s news, I’ll be on him like a pile of fucking bricks.”
“No.” His voice was weird. He still wasn’t looking at her. “You need to leave Kiraly.”
The order landed like a strike to her solar plexus.
Sliding her hands off the table, she slowly faced him. “I misheard you.”
“For your safety,” he said, and his voice dulled into a buzz in her eardrums. Oh God. He was doing it. After all these years, he was finally shoving her behind him as he faced the fight. “Adam knows we’re onto him. I don’t want you hunting him down. You’re a target as much as I am. He’s dangerous and he knows you’re close to me.”
The buzzing in her ears grew louder.
“No,” she said.
“Yes.”
She should have expected this. Seen it coming ever since he’d waded into a barfight for her in Sage Haven. Since he’d pounded his fist into a black bruise on the bar floor of the Bearded Bunting. For years, he’d burned to protect her and had never been allowed.
Now, it terrified her to realize that he was done taking no for an answer.
Her pulse hurt—throbbing in her chest, her neck. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do,” he said, and looked up at her.
“No.” She gave a single shake of her head. “I’m not leaving you.”