Proof of Life (The Potentate of Atlanta #4) - Hailey Edwards Page 0,38
face.
“Seriously,” I reassured him. “You have nothing to prove to me, in bed or out of it.”
“I can’t help but feel graded on everything I do.” He referred back to my exam comment. “Every aspect of my life is witnessed and evaluated by the pack, by rivals, by outsiders, even by my mother.”
“Please don’t bring your mom into this.”
He chuckled at the joke, but then he sobered. This was a sore spot for him, and I had to tread softly.
“I want to get an A plus,” he murmured, “but I would settle for a C minus.”
“I’m not grading you on sexual performance. That’s…” I discarded several options before I settled on. “That’s not healthy. For either of us.”
“I want to please you.”
“The fact you’re mine-all-mine pleases me.”
Hello, double standards.
“I want to pleasure you.”
“You just did.”
“I want—”
“—me to film us so you can evaluate your own performance?”
“No.”
A horrible idea occurred to me, but it was so great I had to put it out there.
“I can see it now.” I rallied my strength and sat upright. “Attack of the Gwyllgi Prince with Love on His Mind and a Roll of Quarters in his Front Pocket.” I laughed so hard, I worried I might have peed a little. “I would so watch that.”
“How about The Necromancer Gets Bitten by a Gwyllgi and Runs Screaming.”
“Depends.” I choke-laughed. “Are we talking about the same gwyllgi? Like is that the sequel? And has he run out of quarters yet?”
The bone-rattling growl that pumped through his chest only made it more hilarious.
To me.
“You are not funny,” he said, doing his best to keep a straight face.
“And yet, you laugh.” I thumped his nipple. “You’re only encouraging me.”
About to fist the hem of his shirt and yank it over his head so I could enjoy the view, I froze at a knock on the door. Beneath me, Midas did the same.
“Are you expecting anyone?” I slid off his lap onto the couch. “It’s almost dawn.”
“No.” He rose, bent to kiss me tenderly, then crossed the apartment and greeted our guest. “Ares?”
An acrid stench that had become too familiar to me filled the room when she entered uninvited.
“Hadley.” A tear tracked down her cheek, slicing through soot and grime. “Your sister…”
“No.” I was on my feet before I knew it. “No.”
“Ares.” Midas stood beside me, his hand on my back. “What happened?”
“Matron Pritchard and Mr. Whitaker got into a fight in the lobby yesterday. They were arguing about the service and food at the restaurant Mr. Whitaker chose. Matron Pritchard made it plain she was eating at Michelle’s tonight, and he could starve if he chose not to join her.” More tears fell, carving grooves down her face. “I warned Addie to mix it up, just in case, but she must have caved under the pressure.”
And the mole overheard and made their plans, likely believing I would go out with my family to dinner.
No, no, no.
A clamp snapped shut around my lungs, and oxygen whistled through my teeth. “Who told you this?”
Whoever it was, they were wrong. Wrong. There was no other explanation.
“I saw it for myself.” She bowed her head. “I went to Michelle’s before I came here.”
“You followed them,” I realized, my voice sounding distant in my ears.
“They’re your family,” Midas explained for her. “I had them watched.”
Since the OPA was doing the same on my end, I could hardly blame him, but why hadn’t Bishop…?
Pivoting on my heel, I jogged into the kitchen and located my phone, which I had left on silent.
Bishop had texted me twenty-three times.
Lisbeth thirteen.
Even Anca, Milo, and Reece had touched base with me.
And I had been too busy riding Midas’s hand to keep in contact with my team during a time of crisis.
“This isn’t your fault.” Midas trapped my back against his chest, his hands clasped at my navel. “The bomber has only targeted you. You had no reason to think they would go after your family.”
But we had both known, deep down, it was a possibility. Otherwise we wouldn’t have each assigned them guards to watch over them whenever they left the Faraday. We wouldn’t have moved them to the Faraday in the first place if we hadn’t had concerns.
I had chosen my city over my family, and I had failed them both.
Not enough, not enough, not enough.
No matter what I did, it was never enough.
“I need to go.” I broke free of him. “I need to be there.”