Ophelia starts up her treadmill and begins a steady walk. “Well, for one, we are all sisters. Empaths on crack. The granddaughters of infamous witches that they forgot to burn, or in our case, hang. Or something like that. I read it in a quote and it’s so accurate.”
I stifle a laugh. My face almost cracks from the half-smile; it has been so long since I’ve felt like smiling. “I am in a bad mood. I agree,” I say, moving back to where the treadmills are lined, taking a seat on a wooden bench that’s built into the glass.
“Talk to Ophelia. Ophelia is a vault.”
I sigh, resting my head against the glass as the sweat continues to drip down my sternum. I remove my tank and toss it on top of my towel. “It’s Brantley. I’m not dealing well with the betrayal.”
“Ah,” Ophelia murmurs. She lifts her eyes to me. “Why did he do it?”
“Does that always have to matter?”
She turns the speed down on her treadmill before flicking it off. “I’m done for my exercise for this week.”
I chuckle again as she sits beside me. “Look, betrayal is hard, especially if you trusted someone as fiercely as I’m guessing you did him. But sometimes, especially in the world we live in and the world I’m guessing he lives in, things aren’t as simple as black and white. You have to allow some color.”
“He said he did it to protect me.”
“Then maybe take that for now. After you find out the whole story, then you can decide whether you’re going to be angry or not. Control your emotions now, you’ll have control forever.”
“And I’m cranky because I miss my brother and my pets.”
“Well,” Ophelia nudges me with her arm, “we can keep you distracted.”
I pick up my towel and throw it over my shoulder as we make our way out of the gym. Distraction could work; only, I’m still running on fumes of anger.
Round and round the mulberry bush…
I smirked from the dark corner, hidden from her in plain sight. “Ah, this time it’s different, isn’t it?” I stood to my full height, making my way toward her slowly. It wasn’t until I was beneath the hanging single light bulb that she looked up at me, her eyes scrunched tightly.
I tapped the bulb. “Count to ten and you’ll wake.”
She didn’t look up at me. She refused. Curled in the corner with her knees pulled to her chest.
“Are you going to start counting?” Her hair was so white, it was unreal. She had always been spectacular. Like a rogue angel begging to be violated. Slowly, she tipped her head up to look at me, her lips quivered and her eyes quickly diverted back down to the ground. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Well,” I said, moving toward her. I bent down, grazing the backs of my knuckles against her soft cheeks. “Because he simply can’t kill me here.”
Brantley
My mind feels like a blank canvas. If there was a picture to be painted on it, it’d be filled with smoke shadows and long, ugly trees that don’t produce leaves. That’s it. That’s fucking it. My fists clench, my eyes remaining zoned in on the clock that hangs behind Bishop in his office.
Tick tock, tick tock.
“Brantley?” Bishop snaps me out of the slumber my mind is more comfortable in these days. “How was Saint last night?” Nate is beside me, Eli next to him. Since the ceremony last week, all of the other Kings have taken their respective positions, which leaves just Bishop, Nate, Eli, and me to hold shit down.
“Mad.”
“That’s cute.” Eli chuckles. “I’d love to see her mad…”
Turning my head slowly, I glare at Eli from the other side of Nate. “I would really be careful with that mouth. You’ll need it when you go on tour.”
He smirks his famous Cheshire cat grin. “Stop being jealous.”
Ignoring him, I look back at Bishop. “She’s mad mad.”
“How mad?” Eli teases again, a toothpick rolling between his lips.
“She punched me in the face.”
Bishop coughs back a laugh while Eli straight-up barks out his. I flip him off. “Besides that, I could snap the tension in the room that she was radiating.”
“She’s feeling betrayed…” Bishop murmurs, leaning back in his chair. “If she’s anything like me—”
“—she’s everything like you. Precisely the problem.” I kick out my leg just as there’s a knock on the door.
Bishop calls out, “Come in.”
“Listen, I get that this is serious and I feel like a snitch for even coming in here, but Nate—” Madison growls, and I turn in my chair slightly to take in what she could possibly want. “Tillie is not doing well with not knowing what is happening with Saint.”
Having little Venari back in the ballgame has been a little tense, to say the least. I mean, at least she and Bishop have both decided to pull their heads in until the twins are born, but to say she’s just walked back in and it’s been a happy family again would be a lie.
“Lie to her,” Bishop says, brushing her off. “You’re good at that.”
Here we go.
Madison’s back straightens, defiance flashing over her eyes. “Fuck you. How about you lie to her? Oh, I know! How about you—”
“—Kitty.” Nate stands from his chair and moves toward where she’s standing, a hand on her stomach. Still can’t believe there are two babies in there. She’s small as fuck. “You need to go upstairs and rest.”
Madison relaxes in Nate’s embrace. “Please, Nate. She’s not dealing well and neither am I. Saint—”
“Is fucking safe, Mads!” I glare at her, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. I run my fingers through my hair, exhaling pent-up anger. “Fuck, you know, it amazes me how you all question my intentions and actions when it comes to her.” I stand from my chair and walk to the only window in the room. I turn to face them, my hands in my pockets and my head resting on the wall to the side. “Actually, it’s slightly insulting. So here’s what’s going to happen when it comes to Saint Vitiosis.” I point to Bishop and Madison. “Both of you are going to do what you need to do, and I’m going to do what I need to do. For right now, though, she is safe.”
“With Veronica, Brantley! Seriously!” It’s good to have Madison home. She’s back with full force.
“Yeah, Mads, with Veronica and her coven. A world that, as far as we know, our enemies don’t know about.”
Madison shakes her head but looks away from me, not wanting to say any more. Which I appreciate. She looks at Bishop. “We need to talk. Now.”
Bishop’s lips curl slightly. “Why the fuck for?”
“Now! Bishop.”
He stands from his chair, storms to the other side of the room, and slams his office door behind him, leaving Nate, Eli, and me.
“There’s too much tension. Why don’t they fuck and get it over with?”
“Because,” I say, kicking off the wall, “just like his little sister, Bishop doesn’t take betrayal well.”