Chapter Nine
“She’s not okay,” Zeke whispered to me as we continued to stare at the closed door to Lennon’s room.
It had been an hour since she’d gone in and an hour since an incoherent Carter Holloway had been wheeled out of the room by paramedics, clearly high on something.
The sight of it had sent a familiar shudder down my spine and I knew Dallas was feeling the same way because he’d refused to look up from his computer since coming into the hotel room—a sure sign that my twin was definitely not okay.
“Who would be?” I asked him, shaking my head and rifling aimlessly through the fridge. It was stocked—Alan the assistant made sure of it—I just wasn’t sure what I wanted to actuallydowith the ingredients inside.
The urge to take care of the woman inside of the bedroom was riding me hard, my inner alpha urging me to break down that damn door and pull her into my arms and protect her from a world that seemed hell-bent on bleeding her dry.
But what would that solve?
So instead, I would cook something.
As if my thoughts magically conjured her, the door to Lennon’s room opened and she stepped out into the living room with wet hair and dressed in a matching sweat set.
“My beauty team should be up in a few minutes, please tell them to come straight back into my room,” she told us, her voice measured and her expression neutral.
“For what?” Zeke asked, frowning from where he was perched on top of the kitchen island.
Lennon’s brows drew together with confusion. “For the event tonight? It’s in a few hours and they will need to redo my hair and makeup so there’s a lot to do.”
“You’re still going?” Dallas asked, speaking for the first time in an hour. “Why the hell are you still going?”
“It’s scheduled…” Lennon replied, her words trailing off.
“I’m sure you can cancel on account of your brother being carted off to the damn hospital,” Dallas snapped, causing Lennon to flinch.
“Dallas,” Maverick cautioned, his voice full of barely concealed thunder as he stepped in between the two and blocked their view of each other.
“We’re all ready on our end, you just worry about getting yourself together,” he told Lennon with a surprising amount ofgentleness that appeared to soothe her because the tightness in her shoulders eased slightly.
She leaned around Maverick to look at Dallas, her wet, blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she shot him a tired look. “Look, you might not agree with it. But the less attention on Carter the better. If I cancel tonight people will be asking why and that is not something my mother or I are willing to answer right now. Not that I even need to tell youanyof this. You are my security. Act like it.”
Her words were harsh and Dallas wheeled back as if she’d reached out and slapped him.
“Fine,” he said, slapping his laptop shut and tucking it under his arm. “Guess I’ll be downstairs talking with Agent Shaw about the plan for tonight.”
Dallas turned to stomp out of the suite but I stopped him, “Dude.”
“What?” he asked, his question bit out through clenched teeth.
“You need to apologize,” I told him quietly. “You were out of line.”
We looked at each other, communicating in the way that we’d perfected after years of only ever being able to rely on each other.
I knew exactly why he was on an emotional roller coaster, but that didn’t mean he got to take it out on Lennon.
For a moment I thought he would do it, his eyes darting from me to Lennon who looked hurt despite her earlier words.
Then, like the stubborn ass he was, he just shouldered past me and out of the room.
With a sigh, I scrubbed a hand over my face.
“What an idiot,” I muttered to myself as someone else knocked on the door within seconds and I opened it to reveal Alan and the makeup crew.
“What was going on with Agent Wilson?” Alan asked as they stepped inside and immediately began to flutter around Lennonlike bespoke butterflies. “He stomped right past us and ignored us like we weren’t even there.”
