Page 100 of The Rogues

“You let her step all over you that night,” I repeat. “That’s why I don’t like her. She has done everything she can to dim you since the moment you two met, and you keep letting her. She doesn’t even try to hide how despicable she is anymore. Her true colors are right on the canvas.”

Cleo’s face reddens, both embarrassment and fury appearing. “I can’t believe you right now.”

“And I can’t believe you are arguing with me over this. I am not the one you should be angry at.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t be? Of course I’m angry because my best friend won’t find it in her heart to accept my girlfriend⁠—”

“She isn’t your girlfriend!” I yell, reaching my breaking point. “She even said so on the phone that she doesn’t want to be your girlfriend! I mean, come on, Cleo! You used to be the strongest person I’ve ever known, stronger than any of us combined, but you are letting her treat you like garbage. What the fuck is going on with you?”

I move around her so I can leave, but her hand comes to my wrist and yanks. Lark is there before it can escalate, tugging Cleo’s grip off me and physically pushing between us.

“You are being fucking ridiculous,” Lark hisses at our friend before turning to me. “Come on, let’s go back. I don’t want to babysit them anymore.”

“Excuse me.” One of the workers comes in through the curtain, her eyes narrowed at us. “You four have to settle down or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Fine,” Cleo mutters as she downs the rest of her mimosa and puts the flute down so hard, I swear I hear it crack. “Lark, help me get this off.”

Lark looks over at Nicola, who is slumped over in her seat. Her eyes widen with indecision as she looks back over at me.

“It’s okay. Help her. Help them both. But I need to get out of here,” I whisper. “Gus is right outside. He will help you, too.”

Guilt flashes behind her eyes, but I know she’ll feel even worse if she leaves our bodyguard to deal with them alone. I may need her emotionally, but these two are unpredictable, especially when they’re not sober. Knowing Lark, she is thinking the same thing, and it’s that honorability of hers that makes me love her so much.

“Help them,” I repeat, watching as Cleo tries to undo her own zipper with little success. “I promise, I’ll be okay.”

Only at my insistence does she finally nod. “I’ll call you later to check in, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry for doing what I can’t right now.”

I walk through the curtain without another glance, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. The first tear falls when I get out into the autumn wind, the liquid wet and cold on my cheek. Despite that, I can’t blink them back. The floodgates open, and I drown in them.

It takes less than a minute for Remi to open his door.

“Josie!” He greets me with a happy smile, but it falls when he sees my wet-streaked face. “Josie⁠—”

I move into his arms, no longer able to hold myself together. The walk back to the hotel was brutal. I didn’t want to call a cab in case I was recognized. That would just be the icing on top, wouldn’t it? Waking up tomorrow to a headline from an “anonymous source” claiming a taxi driver picked up guitarist Josie Rosewood crying outside of a bridal shop.

God, the chaos that would ensue was enough to pump my legs the three blocks I needed.

Remi pulls us inside and shuts the door, the lock audible as it clicks into place. His scent is more molasses than marshmallow today. His shirt is pungent with it, the aroma trying to mellow me with every inhale. Now that I’m safe in his arms, now that I feel the security that’s been escaping me for the last hour, I let myself fall apart the way my body needs.

There’s a small insecurity present about how ugly my sobs sound, but then there’s just as much reassurance that my scent match won’t care. His arms wrap around me tighter, practically carrying me further into the room as I soak his shirt with my tears.

“What the hell happened?” someone asks, and my head whips up to see dark-blue eyes staring at me with concern all over his face. Cyrus looks anything but happy to see my abrupt arrival, his alpha present as he stalks forward.

“Who the hell do we have to kill?” Malaki asks from the bed, sitting up and alert, his expression the most serious I’ve ever seen it.

All of my scent matches are sitting around the room, lounging around, and I’m suddenly grateful that I had the instinct to march over here. Taking in their combined aroma and seeing all of their alphas reacting to my dejection is already making it easier to breathe between the cries wracking through me.

“I’m—so—glad—you’re—all—here,” I say between the horrible sounds, overwhelmed by the amount of gratitude going through my body.

Remi sits me down beside Jamie before taking my other side. My beta pulls me into him, his hand immediately finding my hair and stroking it soothingly.

“I thought you went dress shopping with the girls,” Cyrus says, furious.

I glance up at him through wet lashes. “I did, but it was awful. I don’t know what to do anymore. Cleo is—” My lip wobbles, and the scene between us plays out in my mind all over again. “I can’t help her. I… I think I’m starting to realize that nobody can.”

That causes my prime’s face to soften. He moves forward and gets down on his knees in front of me, a delicious burst of the bitterest chocolate reaching my stuffy nose.