“It isn’t,” He turns with the folder in his hands, cocking his head as his eyes run down the length of me. “I have a question.”
“Well ask,” I sigh impatiently, “And if I think you deserve it, I’ll answer.”
I hear a quickly stifled chuckle from behind me, but I don’t turn to confirm it, not when Malakai glares at Sebastian in a look that could maim a man.
“Is there anything in your past you might want to tell me about?”
I feel my spine stiffen but I quickly relax, shoving down the emotion that rises with that question like I have done many times before.
“I stole an orange from the market when I was five,” I widen my eyes dramatically.
“Olivia,” he says my name like he’s scolding a child.
“Malakai.”
“Try again,” He grinds his teeth, making the muscle pop in his jaw.
I tap my finger on my lip, fighting off memories from a time long ago, a time I’ve buried and try my hardest not to think about. It’s not even overly bad but it ishumiliating,and that feeling is not one I like to feel. I hide all that behind a mask of indifference.
“No, I don’t think there’s anything you should know about me.” I say without emotion, “Or anything I want you to know either.”
He tosses the folder down onto the counter, “Open it.”
“Malakai,” Sebastian steps forward, “Perhaps…”
“Open. It.”
Nerves flutter through me as my fingers grasp the edge of the folder. Suddenly a hand slams down on top of it. “I’m stepping in here.” Sebastian snaps, “Not like this, Malakai.”
“Move, Bast,” Malakai steps forward and I’m suddenly sandwiched between two very big men, Sebastian at my back, Malakai at my front. This is a lot oftestosterone.
“You’re making a mistake.” Sebastian warns.
“How I handle my wife is none of your concern.”
“Um, I’m right here,” I wiggle, trying to free myself, “What the hell is going on?”
Sebastian pleads with me when I meet his eyes but for what, I don’t know.
“What’s in the folder?” I ask.
“Open it and find out.”
Sebastian shakes his head.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, whatever it is can’t be that bad!
I snatch the folder off the side and rip it open, several pages falling out and onto the floor.
All three pairs of our eyes drop to the photo laying face up in the middle of the kitchen.
I think I squeak as my very naked body stares back at me.
“Where did you get these?” I breathe, feeling tears prick my eyes, those memories pushing at my wall I have erected in my mind to keep them back. It’s not that bad.It’s not that bad.
“Someone kindly delivered them this morning.”
“Malakai,” Sebastian warns.
