out,” she demurred. “All I had in the pantry was cling wrap, and that felt risqué for a wake.”
A mental picture of Hadley bound in clear plastic unspooled into his head and stuck there.
“You’re growling.” She backed against him until her shoulders hit his chest. “Loudly.”
Suddenly, he was grateful she hid the front of his pants. “You paint a vivid picture.”
“Can you two fake it a while longer, or do I need to separate you?”
Midas clenched his fists when he noticed Bishop standing beside them.
“I get we’re all happy there’s evidence to support Boaz and company might be alive, but you shouldn’t be that kind of happy in public, let alone here and now. Think with the head on your shoulders, not the one in your pants.”
As much as Midas wanted to snarl and snap, mostly Bishop’s neck, Bishop was right to call him out on his behavior. There were myriad ways this could still go wrong, and Midas wasn’t doing Hadley any favors if he let her hope sweep him away too.
If the coven had her family, they might be torturing them for information on her weaknesses.
If the coven had her family, since they hadn’t asked for a ransom, their skins might be payment.
If the coven had her family, they might already be dead and their remains kept from their eternal peace.
If, if, if.
None of the outcomes at this point were favorable, and it was dangerous letting her pretend everything would be all right if she believed it hard enough. That was setting herself up to fail, to blame herself even more, and he couldn’t encourage it any longer.
She might not survive it.
“Thank you,” Midas mostly said without growling. “I forgot myself.”
“No problem.” Bishop tensed like he expected more or worse from him. “We all want the same thing.”
“We’ll behave.” Hadley rested her hand on Bishop’s arm. “Thanks for checking us when we needed it.”
Shrugging like they had made him uncomfortable, Bishop ambled back to his corner.
“I’m doing that thing I do where I pretend everything is normal and okay even when I know it isn’t.” She pulled away from Midas. “I’m great at compartmentalizing. Fantastic, really. I can turn off messy emotions like a pro.”
From the first time she flinched away from him, he’d known she had been abused at some point in her life. He spent enough time around children of all ages who had rebounded from horrors that would shatter an adult to recognize the signs. He had also learned no good came from pressuring someone to share their past who wasn’t ready to give it voice, give it life.
The past changed how people viewed a person in the present, no matter how many promises were made beforehand, and the last thing people who had survived trauma wanted to see was their pain reflected in the eyes of their friends or loved ones.
“Everyone grieves differently.” He linked their hands. “No one will judge you.”
“When this is over…” She let the sentence die a slow death. “I have things to tell you.”
It was as if she had pulled his thoughts straight from his head, and he went very still.
“I can’t face it right now. Not with everything up in the air. I just…” She dug her nails into her palms. “I owe you my story. You told me yours, and I haven’t shared mine.”
“You don’t owe me anything. Ever.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I want to fill in the blanks instead of leaving you to do it for yourself. I want you to have the facts about me and not have to guess at them. I want you to know everything so that nothing ever surprises you. I want… I want one person in the whole world to know my story, and I want to be the one to tell it. To you.”
Drawing her against him, Midas rested his chin on top of her head and breathed her in. “Thank you.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
Twisting aside, he spotted Ares dressed in black fatigues. “Glad you could make it.”
Several of the others had shown up in their uniforms, dropping in as their work schedules allowed.
“What kind of friend do you think I am?” Her breath smelled strongly of coffee. “I wouldn’t miss this.”
Dark circles smudged the skin beneath her eyes, which were bloodshot. Her lips were cracked, and a line was worn in the skin of her brow from the frown she hadn’t shaken since the last time he saw her. Sleep