Why am I always the one to be left out of decision making? It hurts, and I know they do it to keep me safe, but it still bothers me.
“So you three ride off and leave me here? The damsel in distress again, on her own.”
To my surprise, he laughs. “Don’t be dramatic, Ophelia. It’s not like that, and no, not on your own. Roman will be staying with you.”
“I will?” Roman shouts from the kitchen. “News to me.”
“Cain’s only going to be distracted if Ophelia is there,” Malachi says, “and if she stays, she needs to be kept safe.”
“If you’ve forgotten, I was the one who stabbed the Prophet.” I try to stand, but Malachi has a firm hold on me.
“That’s different. This is Cain’s father. It’s his shit, and he needs to deal with it as he sees fit. I’m going with him ashis friend, but it’s not really our battle, and he’d never forgive himself if you were hurt.” His eyes darken. “Jesus, Ophelia, he’s already not able to forgive himself for what his father did. He says he will leave once he’s removed his father as a threat.”
“Leave? As in … us?” Mal’s nod is like a dagger to my soul. “Oh. That would be bad.” My words are a whisper.
“Yes, it would be,” Roman says as he brings me two slices of toast, layered thickly with peanut butter. “But you were also talking about leaving us. Were you not?”
He’s right, and I have no answer to that.
“Never fear, though, because I have a solution.” He waggles his brows, forcing a reluctant smile from me.
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”
“A ritual,” he says. His face grows serious. “It will tie us to each other and help ward off outside influences who seek to destroy us.”
Another ritual? My mind flashes back to the previous one, and the things we’d done. Depraved but delicious things.
“Does it involve sex?” I ask.
Roman laughs softly. “It involves sex and so much more. It will be the most intimate one can ever be with another human being.”
I squirm a little on Mal’s lap. What is it with these men? I feel like crap. I’m exhausted, grieving, and scared, too, but the minute I think about sex with these men, my body responds.
Does that make me sick?
Eating my toast, I remain on Mal’s lap, and, when I’ve finished, Roman takes my plate and returns, handing me a cup of coffee. It’s sweet and creamy, and I still relish and savor all the things that many take for granted, because we just didn’t have everyday luxuries in the commune.
The commune. My thoughts return there, to Daisy, and tears well up once more. Mal must notice, because he reaches his handto my face and gently wipes the pads of his thumbs over each eye.
“I hate to see you cry, baby.” He kisses my eyelids softly and then my nose, and finally my lips. Just a whisper-soft brush of his lips over my features, but it warms my heart.
The door bangs open and Cain stalks in, like a gust of wind heralding a storm. He’s taken his shirt off, and he stands in the doorway, chest heaving, glistening with sweat.
He sees me and glances outside again. Almost as if part of him is contemplating turning right back around and running away.
The way I did when I first saw him again after all those years apart.
“Cain.” I stand and set my cup down. As I take a step toward him, he steps back.
There’s a wild look in his eyes. Is he really going to run from me? That’s not him. He’s a fighter, not the sort of man who tries to escape his problems by outrunning them.
When I’d gone to bed the previous night, I’d been unsure how I felt about everything that had been revealed, but I’m much surer this morning.
“Don’t you dare run back out that door, Cain.” The firmness of my voice surprises me.
It works, though, because he hesitates, his brows raising slightly.
“Can you come sit for a moment? We need to talk.”
