A snarl builds in my throat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Course I do.” Jade twirls the whiskey. “Fucking Alpha decided he knew best and fucked shit up. Am I wrong?”
The accuracy of his assessment steals my retort. “He stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.”
“Fucking billionaire assholes.” Jade raises his glass.
I clink mine against his. “How do you deal with being surrounded by those Alphas?”
“One day at a time.” Jade sobers. “Sometimes hour by hour. But Caleb’s okay.”
“And the rest?”
“All agitated trying to soothe their mates, and Aaiden’s pissed that Gabe’s still MIA.” Jade shrugs. “He’s fucking miserable, by the way, if it helps salve your wounds.”
It doesn’t. The confirmation that Gabriel’s hurting, too, only twists the knife deeper.
My hand tightens on my glass. “If he’s MIA, how do you know he’s miserable?”
“Not a Rockford, so I’m not on his avoidance list.” Jade takes a sip of his whiskey. “And I’m enjoying watching Aaiden tie himself in knots, so my lips are zipped on baby brother’s location.”
My focus shifts to the door, half expecting the head of the family to appear any second. He’s never far from Jade. “Where’s papa bear right now?”
“Aaiden?” At my nod, Jade shrugs. “Probably throwing a tantrum if he’s realized I slipped the leash.”
“I’m surprised he doesn’t have you under better watch,” I mutter.
“Fucker would chip me if he believed he’d survive putting anything besides his cock inside me,” he mutters.
Shock brings my head around. “You…want that?”
Jade snorts. “Trauma doesn’t always change what you want. But it sure as fuck complicates things. And Rockford Alphas deciding what’s best doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Fucking right.”
We sit in silence for a minute, each stuck in our own mental hells while sipping our whiskies.
“So, how’s the hunt for Tony going?” I ask, wanting an update even if I’m not working with Gabriel anymore.
Jade’s eyes go flat. “Slow. At this rate, I’ll be as old as Aaiden before I get my revenge.”
“That working out for you? The revenge thing?”
“Not really.” He traces the rim of his glass with one finger. “But I can’t stop.”
The raw honesty catches me off guard. I expect deflection or bravado, not this quiet admission.
“Even when I put every last one of them in the ground, the hurt will still be there,” Jade says, matter-of-fact. “And if I don’t find a way to come to terms with it before then, I’ll burn myself up once I’ve lost my outlet.”
My fingers tighten around my glass. The words hit too close to home, echoing thoughts I’ve had during my darkest moments. Nights spent cleaning blood from my knuckles after beating some nameless asshole in an alley, wondering if there would ever be enough violence to fill the void inside me.
“What’s your alternative?” I ask the question as much for myself as for him.
Jade’s usual cockiness vanishes, and fragile uncertainty takes its place. “Haven’t figured it out yet. Letting people in, maybe.”
“That’s a fucking nightmare.” I finish my drink in one swallow.
“Yeah.” He laughs, the sound devoid of happiness. “But what’s our other option? If we can’t slay our demons, we might as well lie down in the grave with them.”
