And that’s when something in me snaps into place. Theabsolutely notof it, all. This pepped-up motherfucker is the one that they want Maggie to marry? Over my dead body.
Maybe literally.
I slide my arm around Maggie’s waist and pull her tight into my side, like it’s something I’ve done a hundred times before. Like she belongs at my side.
Her body stiffens for half a second in surprise before she leans into me, her hand coming up to rest against my chest.
The contact sends a jolt through me that I very much did not plan for.
Eddie’s smirk tightens.
‘Roman,’ I say brightly, sticking out my hand despite my stomach lurching at the thought of touching the snake. ‘Boyfriend.’
He looks at my hand, pointedly ignores it, and leans toward Maggie instead.
‘I was hoping we’d get a moment,’ he says, eyes roaming her face with an intimacy that makes my jaw clench. ‘You look… delicious. Being home suits you.’
Maggie’s fingers curl in my shirt. And a flare ofprotectiveness wells up in me. Which is insane, because I barely know her. Outside the kidnapping and all.
‘She’s quite busy with wedding prep, and I’m sure you’re here to celebrate the bride and groom, not to pester your ex.’
Eddie finally looks at me properly. His gaze is cold and calculating.
‘Noone asked you.’ He turns back to Maggie as if I’ve ceased to exist. ‘We should talk. Alone.’
The casual entitlement of it makes me want to launch myself at him. Which would be unadvisable if he’s the killer Maggie claims him to be. Which looking at his demeanour, I could very much imagine.
Maggie inhales shakily, before steadying herself. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’
Eddie’s face contorts with rage for the briefest of moments, before it washes with an unsettling calm. Gone so fast I might have imagined it.
‘Youalwayssay that,’ he replies.
I don’t like the certainty in his voice.
Before I can think better of it, I guide Maggie away from the table by her hand, hating turning my back on him. Eddie gives me some serious creeps.
This protectiveness I feel is stupid. I should shove Maggie at Eddie and get out. She kidnapped me. I shouldn’t feel anything toward her. Her hand in mine calls me a liar. The way I weave my fingers through hers, and don’t hate it.
We round the corner, and the tension drains out of her in a shaky exhale, her face paling.
‘I hate him so fucking much,’ she breathes out.
‘You don’t say. He has the sort of face that you want to punch, huh?’
She nods, then freezes. Her eyes locked onto something over my shoulder.
‘There,’ she whispers.
I turn.
Priscilla stands at the counter with her back to us, crushing a pill with the base of a spoon. Her movements are methodical, like she’s done it a hundred times before. She sweeps the powder into a glass with ease, and stirs.
My stomach drops.
‘See?’ Maggie hisses. ‘I told you I wasn’t crazy.’
I give her a look.
