“Oooh, I wish I didn’t have to focus on the fight,” he says, “but I’m sure I’ll have some options by the time it’s over.”
I groan. “Wrath, you’d better win because I really don’t want to see you getting your ass pummeled.”
“You won’t. You’ll see me pummeling someone else’s ass, so cool down and have some faith in your little bro.” He hooks his arm around me, pulling me farther into the warehouse.
But I’m all tensed up, hating the thought.
I order an old-fashioned, but the whiskey makes me think of Killian. I consider discarding it and ordering something else, yet find myself sipping on it eagerly.
“Just back out now,” I tell Wrath after another swig. “They can easily find a replacement. Half the guys in here would kill to get the attention of having their asses handed to them.”
“I didn’t even tell you who my opponent is.”
“Will it make a difference?”
“It’s Riggy Segal.”
“Rigs?” I know him from the underworld. A worthy opponent, who could definitely kick his ass, which gives me some comfort. Only a little, though. “I don’t get what you enjoy about these things.”
“It’s my life, isn’t it?” It’s hard for Wrath to say anything all that seriously, but I can hear the seriousness in his tone, and it reminds me of my own feelings about this life. What Dad set up for us and how I don’t want any part in it, yet here we are. And while I don’t always love Wrath’s choices, I don’t have the right to make decisions for him.
“Come on, Logan. I know what’ll cheer you up.” He pulls me over to the girls we spotted on the way in.
Maybe if I can find a girl who’s interested, we could beat it before it gets to the point where I have to watch him fight. And there’s one among them—dark hair, with these beautiful cat eyes—looking at me like she knows exactly what she wants from me already.
“You catch a lot of fights here?” I ask her, feeling like I might as well have asked if she comes here often, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Few women ever do.
“Unfortunately, my friends dragged me, and I’m eager to find any excuse to get out.”
Maybe I just found my ticket out of this, away from all that shit I don’t want to face right now. I chat her up—her name’s Alana—and we’ve barely gotten a few words in when I notice heads turning.
I follow the crowd to see an entourage entering. The first guy looks like a bodyguard—suited up, all bulk, like he used to be a linebacker. Following him is—the hell?—Killian, flanked by Jaime and Krychek. They look a little worn down, but when we make eye contact, Krychek smiles and winks at me like he got a kick out of me handing him his ass.
Killian doesn’t look as amused. He glances between Alana and me like we’ve wronged him, and instinctively, I realize that flirting with a girl while engaged to him is dangerous. But we’re not really engaged, and if he thinks that even if I did marry his ass, I wouldn’t need some pussy, he’s out of his fucking mind. Well, more than he already is.
“Guess you Richie Riches all know each other,” Alana says, catching my attention.
“Uh…yeah.” That’s all I’m willing to say.
My gaze follows Killian, and I’m waiting for him to look back, but he keeps on, so maybe I’m overthinking this? I’m just relieved he didn’t approach right away, ask me if I’d decided what I was going to do as his future wife. I’ll take that as a win.
5
KILLIAN
He’s mine. Whothe hell is this fucker with her grimy hands all over Log?
I don’t normally come here, but I’ve got ears on the ground, and when I was informed Logan showed, I wanted to see my bride-to-be. Lordes have always been known to be protective of their possessions—and we essentially view people as objects. Comes with the whole psychopath territory.
And I’ve been patient with him long enough.
Before, when he fucked around, it was because he didn’t know whom he belonged to, but now that he does, there’s no excuse for him running around with anyone else. It’s disrespectful, especially when I’ve shown him so much grace, allowed him time to come up with an alternative to our agreement.
That’s absurd, though, and he must’ve realized it by now. There’s never been a choice for him but to follow through with this marriage. When I pretended to give him time to consider this, it was for more than my own amusement. It was so I could revel in the deep satisfaction that he would be squirming as he came to accept he had no choice but to submit to me. I’ve already won, but now my possession is pissed he’s caught in a trap, and he’s dared to insult me—a fucking Lorde. I’m livid, and Logan better be glad I’m on a steady diet of antianxiety meds and a mood stabilizer. The things that allow a volatile man like me to function in the world.
“Boss, you want me to grab him for you?” Jaime asks, still sporting that shiner, courtesy of Logan. Seeing it cheers me up, reminds me of what I like about the guy rather than this searing fury in my chest.
“I need a Xanax and a stiff drink to get in a better mood so I don’t do something I regret.”
