Thanksgiving bluff, but after everything we saw at the Colosseum I feel like there’s a ticking clock on Eli’s life. Why is Nero determined to get close to his family? How can I get him to trust me again so I can protect him?
He’s pretty much never in school now, and when Noah went to his house to ask about him, Nero appeared at the door and said his stepson was at his girlfriend’s house.
His girlfriend.
I have one last shot at protecting Eli and George from their own goodness. It means letting go of any hope that Eli might be mine again. He was never mine in the first place – he always belonged to Mackenzie. And now he belongs to George, and I’d make damn sure they have the rest of their lives to be nauseatingly good and kind and beautiful together.
She’s better for him than I could ever hope to be.
It doesn’t matter that knowing they’re together feels like a lion tearing my heart out of my chest. They’re both family now, and I’ll fight to protect them, no matter the cost. After all, that’s the motto of family. Et in morte fidelitas – even in death, loyalty remains.
Speaking of family… I haven’t confronted Antony with what I know. He’s held that secret close to his chest for a reason, and I intend to do the same. It’s hard being around him, knowing that every time he leaves the house to return to Tartarus Oaks, he’s moving away from the future we plotted together. With every secretive phone call he takes, I feel our home disintegrating around me.
But I’m the one who swung the hammer first by bringing the guys in.
Maybe he’s not the only one prepared to wear a crown of thorns.
I need to make a decisive move. I text George and tell her we’re hanging out tonight, just us girls, and I won’t take no for an answer.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Antony seizes my arm as I head toward the garage.
“I’m hanging out with George tonight.”
“You think that’s wise? Isn’t she trying to steal Captain America from you?”
I can’t help my jaw clenching. “He’s not mine to steal.”
“He’d better be.” Antony’s mouth cocks up into a smirk that takes me right back to the violence of the arena. “You’ve got five days until I put a hit out on that boy. He’s dangerous while he hates you, especially if he’s got your ex-friend in his bed.”
“You wouldn’t dare, and she’s not my ex-friend.”
“I don’t care if she’s the queen of fucking Sheba. We don’t know her loyalties and Brutus is still out there.”
I fold my arms. “Let me tell you how this is going to go. I will let you take the lead and boss me around and threaten my friends, even though we both know you’re full of shit. But I have never, ever had a real girl friend before, and I am not going to let Brutus frighten me into losing her. Have Tiberius drive me if you need to get to the club. He can watch her house while I’m there, but I am going to see George tonight, and that’s final.”
Antony shakes his head. He looks pissed as he raises his phone to his ear. “I knew I should never have taught you to have a fucking backbone. Wait here while I figure out how to prevent your reckless ass from getting killed.”
In the end, Antony drives me over to George’s place himself. I’m hoping it’s a ploy on his part to get me alone so we can talk. Instead, he cranks a party playlist and raps along with Drake. He’s in a good mood, and now I know why. It’s almost Saturnalia, and Brutus is nowhere to be found. From what I saw at the club, even if the guy does come back, Antony – who isn’t even of August blood – will be the new Imperator and our whole plan is shot to hell.
I will have endured four years alone in that house for nothing.
Over my dead fucking body.
George lives in Lethe, one of those forgettable suburbs that sits between the rich assholes of the hills and Tartarus Oaks. She bounces out the door as soon as the car pulls up. Her hair’s dyed bright pink this time and clipped back from her face with barrettes shaped like skeleton cats. On anyone else, she might’ve looked like a five-year-old on molly, but George pulls it off.
“Who’s the dish