By all rights, the wide, evil grin he sports should have me worried. I can’t let him get to me, though, so I push any concerns aside in favor of returning said grin.
“Do we have a deal?”
Chapter 19
Aron
No less than ten Syndicate officers try to stop me as I flee the mansion. I do my best to deflect any questions, claiming that “urgent Syndicate business” crap, but some of the men refuse to take that as an answer. A couple genuinely want to help with whatever I’m doing, but some are just bored and nosey. We clearly haven’t given them enough to do while we plot against Dad.
If I ever decide to speak to Matt again—and if he survives his insane fight with Grady—I’ll have to suggest we give the men more work to occupy them.
I storm out the mansion’s gates with no specific direction in mind, plowing through the trees and underbrush of the woods that surround the estate. The snapping branches and crunching leaves telegraph my presence to anyone within earshot, which is incredibly stupid of me, but at this point, I don’t care. I just need to get out, to find someplace where I can think.
Knowing Matt, I won’t be able to stop him now that he’s got his mind set on fighting Grady. As much as Matt cares about me, he’s too stubborn to back down from something like this. Heclearly sees Grady as a threat that needs neutralizing, and rather than fucking shooting the bastard, he thinks it’s a grand idea to sacrifice himself on the minute chance he might win.
I don’t know what to do. Matt the Lover might have thought twice about it, but he’s acting as Matt the Don. How can I challenge the don? I can’t exactly contradict him in public, and my attempt to talk him out of it privately failed. My only hope now is to find a way to either stop the fight from happening or interrupt it before Matt’s killed.
Shit. I can’t interrupt it. Not in front of the whole damned Syndicate. They’ll view that as disobedience at best, at worst a sign of Matt’s weakness. If they start seeing Matt as weak, the whole fucking enterprise will crumble like these leaves I’m walking on.
Is there really no other option? Will Matt really force me to watch him commit suicide by Grady?
My steps slow to a halt as I realize that there’s nothing I can do. I lash out, punching the closest tree. My knuckles crack and bleed, and when I look, there are bits of bark and dirt embedded in them.
Something about the sight, the blood and the mess, sets me off.
I attack the tree trunk like it’s a punching bag in the gym. Over and over again, I hit the tree. Each punch stings and burns, further ripping my skin and leaving more and more bits of bark in my knuckles. Right. Left. Right. Left. Jab. Jab. Jab. Hook. Uppercut. Every way I can possibly damage both the tree and myself.
By the time I’ve worn myself out, there are several patches of trunk that have been stripped of their bark, the bare spots smeared with red. My hands are raw, dripping blood, and I’m not entirely sure I haven’t broken something.
I pant and heave, staring at the mess I made. A strange, eerie calm settles over me, and I lean my forehead against the rough bark as tears stream from my eyes.
I’m going to lose him. There’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.
Defeated and in pain, my shoulders sag as I sob quietly into the tree trunk. If Matt dies tonight, I’ll have lost everything twice in a matter of days. My whole world is crumbling like this tree bark, exploding before my eyes yet again.
A softcrunchalerts me to another’s presence, and I whip around, throwing a wild left hook at whoever dares to approach.
Matt catches my fist with ease.
“What the fuck are you doing, Aron?”
I avert my gaze, unable to meet Matt’s intense glare. “I’m chopping fucking firewood. What else does it look like?”
“It looks like my primary guard just beat the shit out of his hands.”
“Is that all I am to you?” My voice has a bitter edge to it. “Your primary guard?”
Matt uses his grip on my fist to pull me into an embrace. Rather than fighting it, I go limp in his arms. He strokes my hair as fresh tears fall.
“Shh. It’s going to be okay, Aron. I won’t let him beat me.”
“He’s a fucking killer, Matt. That’s literally his entire reason for being. He’ll rip you apart for the fun of it. I can’t do this. I can’t watch another person I love be torn to bits.”
“Hey.” He pulls back and cups my cheeks with his hands. “What are we, Aron?”
I sniffle and wipe my snotty nose with the back of my hand. “We’re the Royal Syndicate.”
“And what does that mean?”
