“I trusted you,” she hisses, “to put the clan first. To have my back. What else have you been hiding from me?”
I glare. That’s fucking unfair. I’ve never lied to Maeve before. The first night I joined, I told her who I was—what I was to the Bruno family. And she still kept me on her team.
“I don’t lie to you.”
“But you did.” Her fingers lace over her belly and I see the glint of metal on her hip. She’s too close to a knife and I gulp. Maeve with a blade is a deadly combination. “They’re off-limits, Hayes. All of them.”
Her siblings. She put the order in place once she took command. Her final ‘fuck you’ to her father that forbade anyone from touching, talking, being alone with any of her siblings—even Briar, wherever the fuck he is.
“And what, Maeve? You’re going to kill me for touching your sister?”
Her fingers twitch. “Maybe I need to send a message.” I watch her knife warily.
“And what if I love her?Inlove with her? Then what?”
She stills, jaw tight. I’m under no illusions that Maeve held off on sending Collins to the Bruno compound because she cared about us together. If she wanted to, she would marry Collins off to whomever would benefit her the most.
My only Hail Mary was that it’s Roman. They’ve fought their whole lives, scrimmages in the streets, failed coups in the early days of her father’s quest for territory. She would never give him the satisfaction of having something of hers—family, blood, power. She’s holding out for spite alone.
She swallows. “Do you love her? Truly?”
Helplessly, I fall into the chair before her, hanging my head, awaiting her judgement. “I do.”
“When?”
Memories flash before my eyes. Of Collins, young with braces and looking at me when I saved her from her bullies. Collins, when she graduated from college. I hung out in the shadows with Maeve, watching from afar while Sloane hugged her and Ferguson posed for pictures. Of Collins, throwing her stuffed animals at me when I tried to enter her room without permission.
Of her unbridled laugh, the one she lets loose when no one is around—except me. Or the way her eyes flash silver, like lightning breaking over dark clouds, when she’s angry.
All those small moments building in my chest and I rub my breastbone.
“I’m not sure,” I murmur. “I fell for her wit. Her charms. Her rage. But I’ve never not loved Collins, Maeve. It’s as easy, as natural, as breathing.”
“Breathing,” she repeats, thoughts gone. Then she blinks, clearing her throat. “You still went against an order. There are consequences for such things.”
“I’m ready for whatever judgement you pass.”Please don’t kick me out.“But Maeve, I’ve never betrayed you. Never lied to you. You’ve been my only family for so long—I would never willingly hurt you.”
She seems to mull this over, sighing. “I’ll come up with a punishment. After the Games. Don’t get comfortable.”
“But Hayes,” she begins, pinching her brows. “Some common decency would have been nice. Collins has gone through things—” she cuts off. “Things you don’t know.”
“I think I know her pretty well, boss.” I wink, messing with my hair. “Everything has always been to her level of comfort.”
I’d jump head first into a shallow puddle if it meant doing what Collins wanted. I’d swim out into a tsunami and drown with a smile on my face. I go at her pace—I don’t think Maeve knows Collins pace is akin to a raging riptide and all you can do is go along with the current.
“Still—”
“What did you want me to do?” I hum. “Ask your permission? I’d lose both ears for simply implying.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it. She might love me like a brother, but her protectiveness over Collins comes first. As it should.
“You should have still asked my permission.”
“And die?” I scoff. “No thanks.”
Her lips quiver. Just a little blip. The ice is thawing and she’s starting to warm up to me.
“But you’re right. I should have been a big boy and talked to you about what was happening.” About my emotions. About Collins' plan. We’re too far into this to backtrack, but I wish I could change a few things.”
