But if there was one thing I’d learned over the past month, it was I needed to take advantage of the ups in our relationship when I could. So, after my planned “surprise” visit to a local high school, where I gave a speech on the importance of kindness and mental health, I brought up a topic I’d been avoiding for the past week.
“I usually stay in Eldorra longer for the holidays, but I’m glad we’re heading back to campus earlier this year,” I said casually as we settled into our seats at a restaurant by the school.
No answer.
Just when I thought Rhys would ignore the bait, he said, “Spit it out, princess. What do you want?”
There goes the grumpiness again.
A small frown touched my face. I felt like a kid asking permission from a parent when I talked to him, which was ridiculous, but he radiated such authority I sometimes forgot he was my employee and not the other way around.
Well, technically, he was a contractor with the palace, but that was a minor distinction.
“My favorite band is coming to D.C. in January. Ava and I already bought tickets to see them,” I said.
“Band name and location.”
I told him.
“I’ll check it out and let you know.” Rhys snapped his menu closed when our server approached. “Burger, medium rare, please. Thank you.”
I placed my order and waited for the server to leave before repeating in a tight voice, “I already bought the tickets.” Translation: I’m going whether or not you like it.
“Refundable ones, I hope.” His sharp gaze glided through the restaurant, not missing a single detail about the patrons or room layout.
Aaaand there went the down in our relationship, just like clockwork.
“Your job isn’t to run my life. Stop acting like an overprotective parent.” My frustration mounted. I would rather hate him all the time than have my emotions swing back and forth like a broken gauge. It was exhausting. “How are you still employed? I’m surprised your previous clients haven’t complained to your company about your…your…”
Rhys arched an eyebrow while I fumbled for the right words.
“Your overbearing tendencies,” I finished lamely. Dammit. I needed a bigger arsenal of better insults.
“Because I’m the best. They know it, and so do you,” he said arrogantly. He leaned forward, his eyes darkening. “You think I want to parent you? I don’t. If I wanted kids, I’d get myself an office job and shack up in some cookie-cutter suburban home with a picket fence and a dog. I’m in this field of work to save lives, princess. I’ve taken plenty of ‘em, and now—” He stopped abruptly, but his words lingered in the air.
I flashed back to his words from the parking lot. It got too much. The deployments, the uncertainty, the funerals. Watching men I considered brothers die right in front of me.
Rhys hadn’t gone into detail about what happened when he was in the military, but he didn’t need to. I could only imagine.
Guilt and sympathy blossomed in my stomach and curled around my heart.
That was why I vacillated so much in my feelings toward him. I disliked Rhys’s attitude and actions, but I didn’t dislike him, because I understood why he did what he did.
It was a conundrum, and unfortunately, I didn’t see a way out of it.
“It only takes one slipup,” Rhys finished. “One second of distraction, and you could walk into a minefield and get blown to hell. One lapse of judgment, and you could end up with a bullet in your head.” He leaned back, shutters falling over those gunmetal eyes. “So no, I don’t give a fuck if you already bought tickets. I’m still gonna check the place out, and if anything looks off, you’re not going. End of story.”
My mind swirled with a dozen different responses, but the one that came out wasn’t the one I’d intended to say at all.
“We’re not in a war zone,” I said gently. “We don’t have to be on guard twenty-four-seven.”
Rhys’s jaw hardened, and even though he’d gotten out of the Navy years ago, I wondered how long he’d been fighting his own inner battles.
“Life is a war zone, princess. The sooner you understand that, the safer you’ll be.”
While my life wasn’t perfect, it was far better than most people’s. I knew that. I’d grown up in a bubble, protected from the worst of humanity, and I was incredibly privileged for that reason. But the idea of living life like I was at war with it every day made me indescribably sad.
“There’s more to life than trying not to die.” I kept my gaze on Rhys as our server brought out our orders and set them on the table. “It’s just a concert. I promise I’ll be fine.”
5
Rhys
I’ll be fine, my ass.
Bridget’s words, spoken with such confidence a month ago, had come back to bite her, and by extension me, in the proverbial behind. After looking into the concert venue, I’d expressly told her not to attend the performance, which took place in some sketchy warehouse that should’ve been shut down for breaking a thousand and one safety code regulations. The building was one strong gust of wind away from collapsing.
Yet Bridget had gone against my orders and snuck out in the middle of the night to attend the damn concert, only to get kidnapped afterward.
That was right. Fucking kidnapped by a mercenary who’d grabbed her and Ava off the street.
It wasn’t even the concert that pissed me off. If Bridget had insisted on going, I would’ve gone with her, because she was the client. I couldn’t physically restrain her from doing what she wanted.
No, I was pissed about the fact she’d gone behind my back and the whole kidnapping incident could’ve been avoided had she been honest with me.
I glanced in the rearview mirror to reassure myself Bridget was still there. As furious as I was, the sight of her in the backseat, bruised but safe, eased some of the icy terror that had gripped me since I woke up and realized she was gone.
Luckily, I’d had the foresight to plant a secret tracking chip in her phone a few weeks earlier, and it’d led me to Philadelphia, where I found her and Ava tied up and at the mercy of a gunman for hire. The whole situation resulted from a long, sordid saga involving Alex Volkov, Alex’s psycho uncle who’d kidnapped Ava as leverage against his nephew, and years of secrets and revenge.
I honestly didn’t give a shit about the drama. All I’d cared about was getting Bridget out of there safely, and I had, if only so I could tear her apart with my own hands.
“Ava’s staying with us tonight.” Bridget smoothed a hand over her friend’s hair, her brow knit in a worried frown. “I don’t want her to be alone.”
Ava lay curled up in her lap, her sobs softer than before but still frequent enough to make me wince. I had no clue what to do around crying people, especially ones whose now ex-boyfriend confessed to lying to her during their entire relationship to get revenge on the man he’d thought had murdered his family. And that was only the CliffsNotes version of what had happened.
It was fucked-up shit, but Alex Volkov had always been a little fucked up in an I might murder you if I’m in a bad mood kind of way. At least everyone was alive…except for his uncle and the gunman.