but she has a knife and knows how to use it? I have a hundred more examples for you.”
He tugs his shirt over his head and stalks over to the offending piece of furniture, dropping down onto it and getting comfortable. “It could work as a sex bench. Climb up and sit that pretty pussy on me, Queenie.”
I huff at him and saunter into the bathroom, swinging my hips as I go and smirking at his answering groan. “I need to freshen up first. Give me a minute.”
He doesn’t say a word about it, mostly because he’s aware of the five minute shower I took when we first left the hospital and there’s no way that will be enough for me to relax now and enjoy being with him. My hands sting when the water hits them and I’m sure I’m ruining the glue, but my OCD wins out for now. I’ll have to fix them later.
I also need five minutes to process the guilt and loathing at myself for being here in Atticus’ house, fucking my other lover, while he’s in a hospital dying.
Atticus has always, always done things for the greater good.
Being here and taking over his business for him while he’s out of the picture is, without a doubt, the greater good, but the guilt may still eat me alive.
“Stop fucking thinking about it. There’s nothing we can do for him up at that hospital and you left enough men up there guarding him to take out a fucking president if they have to. We’re here because he would want you here.”
He’s right, I know he’s right, but I still feel the crushing weight of the evening bearing down on me. “I always thought we’d figure our problems out and find our way back to each other. I… I had just decided to talk to him properly about making this work. About having you both and feeling whole again and then I was taken. He gave me his vest, Aodhan. If he hadn’t, if he had’ve just waited—“
Aodhan cuts me off with a savage snarl, “If he hadn’t, it would be you in that fucking hospital bed and I don’t feel an ounce of guilt saying I’m glad it’s him and not you. Crawford is glad it’s him and not you, I can say that without even thinking about it. He’s a fucking asshole of a man, but he’s been nothing but consistent when it comes to you. Whatever the cost, he was going to get you home safe. Why the hell do you think I’m okay sharing you with him? I couldn’t give a fuck about history or any of that shit, I can share with him because I want you happy, healthy, and whole. He was a fucking big part of that.”
I take a deep breath, the tears streaming out of me and spilling all over the freaking place but I can’t acknowledge them. I need to stop. I need to pull myself together and be the woman in charge.
Luca had called me the Queen Crow, but I feel like a freaking imposter right now.
“Baby, stop. Stop crying, we’re going to go to bed. We’re going to be done with this fucked night and we’re going to get back up tomorrow swinging. No one touches the Family and lives.”
I choke on a sob, stepping out of the shower and into the towel he’s holding out to me. He wraps me up and bundles me into his arms.
“He’s not family, he said so himself.”
Aodhan shakes his head. “He’s got my vote. Lips’ and Harley’s, yours. Illi and Odie will vote for him after they hear the story… fuck, Illi might vote for him just for what he did to the Bear. Six to two means he’s in.”
I clear my throat. “That makes it a six-all tie. There’s still Jackson, Viola, and… two of Lips’ siblings. I think Jackson would vote for him though.”
He nods slowly, not asking any questions. “Put the call out. Get the official vote and get him in. No more tip-toeing around this shit. If your brother has issues, he can come talk to me about them.”
As I follow him back out into the bedroom to get dressed, I snort at him, the most un-Avery sound he’s probably ever heard, but really? “You’re going to face off with Ash over Atticus? I’ve officially heard it all.”
He shakes his head at me like I’m freaking dense. “You’re mine. I’ll face off with Ash for