If I could have taken this burden from him, I would have.
“You need to eat more than two bites,” Asher said from my left. I looked down at my barely touched plate. Glancing over at his next to mine and then to Dean’s on my right, I saw both of their plates were clean. Jeana had made a pasta dish for dinner. I was equally bummed as I was relieved that she hadn't made tacos. The moment I'd begun to relax, I'd instantly lost my appetite. It would have been a crying shame if I'd let tacos go to waste.
The three of us were seated at the island in the kitchen. I'd come in here to join Dean and Asher when I'd realized I was going to be eating dinner alone. Stefan hadn’t showed up, and neither had anyone else for that matter. They were all preparing for the execution by hunting down the rest of Samuel’s and Dylan’s enforcers and men in their inner circle.
Fixating on a glittery speck in the quartz countertop, I mumbled, “I can’t eat.” I felt strung tight with an abundant mix of bipolar emotions. I was sad for my father but happy my uncle was finally getting put in his place. I was tired yet wired, like the family meeting had given me a euphoric high I was relishing but crashing from at the same time. The memory of myself rubbing up against Mark like a cat in heat made my skin itch for a shower, yet I wanted to roll around, basking in the sweet scent of victory. Maybe I was having a stroke?
“What’s wrong?” Dean grumbled. I blinked, breaking the staring contest I was having with the counter to face him. He was staring at me with a puckered brow. I couldn’t tell if he was concerned or pissed off.
“I think I need to have sex…” I blurted with zero shame. I didn’t have room for that particular emotion. Dean’s brows shot up and Asher cleared his throat. “Or a cigarette. I’m feeling very contradictory at the moment and it’s…unsettling.”
“Uh…” Dean stammered, clearly at a loss.
“Why’d you take off your rubber bands? Didn’t they help you when you were stressed?” Asher asked.
Stressed! I’ll be damned, I guess I am. I usually got pissed when I was stressed. At the moment, though, I couldn’t pin down one single emotion and just feel it.
A drink was definitely in order. Standing up, I made my way over to the pantry. Stepping into the temperature-controlled room, I scanned shelves with an array of unopened bottles. We were Irish, so it wasn’t a surprise Stefan had enough whiskey to get an entire army sloshed. Thankfully, he also catered to those with other tastes. I sighed happily when I found a bottle of Patrón. It wasn’t until I was walking out of the pantry with tequila in hand that I finally grasped everything Asher had said. My steps faltered. I stood there stunned as I locked my eyes on the giant sitting across the room. He was waiting, expectantly. How’d he…?
“How long did you spy on me?”
He smirked. Standing from his stool, he scooped up his empty plate. “The last two years,” he replied as he made his way over to the sink. “And we weren’t spying. We were there to protect you.”
I fought hard not to scowl as I pulled a shot glass and salt from different cabinets around the kitchen. “Whatever you were doing, you were very observant if you knew why I wore rubber bands. Did you hack into the college to get my test scores, too? Tap my phone? Bug my house?” I grumbled as I set my collected items on the counter. I didn’t return to my seat. Instead, I chose to stand on the other side of the island, across from Dean, who was watching as I uncorked the Patrón bottle and poured a shot. I preferred my tequila chilled when drinking it straight, but I didn’t really have the patience to prepare it that way. Wetting the back of my hand with my tongue, I dashed some salt on the dampened skin. I licked the salt away and threw back the shot. Damn, I needed that.
Asher leaned against the sink with his arms folded over his chest after placing his plate in the basin. “You didn’t answer my question.”
I shrugged. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not living among the sheep anymore. Showing weakness here is a death sentence.”
“You’re the boss’s