Fuck. Her face as she looked at us. Like we were the monsters.
We are the fucking monsters.
“She hasn’t even got any clothes,” Jax whispers. “Or any of that omega stuff they like. She’s got nothing, and she’s hurt, Tris.”
I stare into my glass. “I’ll sort it.”
I’ll sort everything. I just need time.
My fingers tap on the desk as I battle the urge to stride up there and check on her for myself. But Jax tried, and she didn’t answer. After today, the last thing I want to do is force my company on her.
I can feel the lack of her like an itch under my skin. I’m fucking desperate to scratch it, but I need to set an example to my pack and keep my distance.
But… she needs clothes.
Standing up, I make for the door. Jax swivels in his seat.
“Where are you going?” he calls.
“Shopping.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, I make a quick detour to my room before I arrive at her door. Rapping my knuckles against the wood, I wait, but she doesn’t respond.
I clear my throat. “Sienna.”
“Yes?”
Spinning, I take in the sight of her, all five foot nothing of fiery attitude. She leans against the bathroom door with her eyebrow raised and arms crossed, still barely dressed. My eyes flicker down before I move them up with some effort.
Tossing the sweatshirt at her, I rub my neck when she scoffs.
“No, thank you. I’ve already been down that road today, and it didn’t end particularly well for me.”
Her cheek still has a hint of red from Alicia’s slap, and my fist curls.
“I’m sorry,” I say in a low voice.
Now both of her eyebrows raise. “For?” she asks quietly.
“For not saying something. Or doing something. She shouldn’t have done that to you.”
Sienna huffs quietly, but I don’t miss the way her chin quivers. My chest constricts.
“I thought we could go shopping,” I offer. “Get you some of your own things to replace the ones you lost.”
And just like that, the fire returns.
“The onesIlost?” Sienna advances on me, her finger jabbing my chest. “I think you mean the ones your psychopath girlfriend threw away. Right?”
“Er- yes. That is… correct. Yes.”
Fucking hell. I’m supposed to be the next Council Leader and she’s tying my tongue into knots.
Sienna stares up at me, our bodies so close she brushes against me as she breathes. I’m not breathing at all.
Then she spins, scooping up the discarded sweatshirt and tugging it over her head before turning back to me with a small smile.
“After you,” she says primly, sweeping her hand towards the stairs.
