Page 33 of Broken Princess

He huffs and grunts, refusing to meet my eyes, and shuffles towards the door, attempting to hide his shame. Which turns my giggle into a guffaw.

I hear a muffled, “for fuck’s sake,” and try to suppress the full-blown laugh that threatens to decimate my broken ribs.

“Happens to everyone, you big priss,” I call after him and give in to the pain that assaults my ribs as I laugh with abandon at the six-foot-three-inch Adonis storming off with a very large and very loaded weapon. The full-belly laugh surprises me, making me feel lighter than I have in years.

A few minutes later, Nico wanders in and makes a beeline for the coffee machine. I’m stretched back, nursing the ache in my ribs from my giggle fit.

I’m surrounded by people that make me happy, that care for me. While this thought is alien to me, it’s not unwelcome and I can’t hide the smile that blossoms on my face.

“You’re going to have to tell me what you did to break Enzo.”

“And give away my secrets? Never. I will learn everyone’s weakness and use it for evil… well, not evil, but definitely for shits and giggles.”

“Brat,” he accuses.

“Of course. What’s your point?”

My retort causes him to do a double take, but he shakes it off and returns to playing with the coffee machine. Thank fuck it’s one of those pod-style ones. Mamma needs her lattes, and it would creep me out to see any milk being stored in the med-room fridge next to the frankly sinister-looking pouches of blood that stare back at me through the glass door.

It’s fucking distracting having blood bags on display below the TV.

While I’m lost in thought, wondering how many of those bags were pumped into me by Doc Em, a heavenly waft of java snaps me out of my thoughts. Nico hands me my mug and returns to the machine. He has lined up a little procession of cups.

“Are you the designated barista today?”

“I just got here first. Sin called a meeting and every now and again, I’m not a complete and total prick. Besides, you put Zo in a foul mood, and I’ll resort to bribery by coffee to make sure I’m not on the receiving end of his wrath.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re all a bunch of drama queens,” I say in a light tone.

“And you woke up sassy and itching to start a fight, apparently.” He approaches me with the swagger of a wild animal stalking its prey and drops his voice to a raspy growl. “There are many people in this house that would gladly take a brat in hand, Aurora.” He has a sinful smirk on his lips, but something causes it to drop, and he looks back at me sternly. “Enzo is not one of them—be careful you don’t push him too far.”

Well, that’s cryptic as fuck and in no way informative. What does that mean? Before I have time to dwell on it, I hear feet pounding down the stairs and the loud voices of Benny and Sinclair. They’re joking about something, but I can’t make out what until they come through the door with wide grins on their faces.

“Okay, you little hellion, what did you do to wedge a stick up Enzo’s ass already this morning?” Benny asks with a chuckle. “Sin and I can’t figure it out. Spill, Aurora.”

“Me?” I say as innocently as I can muster. “Absolutely nothing, my dear Benedict.” I smirk at him and for the first time since I arrived here, I feel like the old Aurora, when we were kids together and I was Rory and he was Benny. Like I’m not a stranger to someone I used to know so well. Taken out of the banter for a moment, my face must drop because Benny’s face looks worried now. I tip my head, encouraging him to come closer, and when he’s close enough that only he can hear me, I say, “I’ve missed you, Benny. Please forgive me for disappearing on you. And what’s with calling me Aurora?”

He shakes his head and leans into me, hugging me as much as he can without causing me any pain, and whispers, “Shut up, Rory. I missed you too, but I had my own shit to work through. And we’re both here now. We can talk another time. Just hug me and let’s get started on our plan.”

I squeeze him back as much as my injuries allow and pull away to take in this much calmer Benny than yesterday. “I take it Nico’s distraction helped?”

“If you mean I’m no longer experiencing violent bouts of rage, then yes… I’m angry still, but I have it under control.” He pauses and shame washes over his face. “I’m sorry, Rory. What my father has done to y?—”

I place my index finger over his lips and glare at him. “You are not your father. You are not responsible for his actions any more than I am responsible for Max’s.” I give him a broad smile I hope is reassuring, and he nods, retreating to the couch and sitting next to Nico, who winds his arm along the back of the cushion behind him so he can stroke his arm. A part of me envies their connection and how obviously and effortlessly they comfort each other. I don’t know what Nico did to pull Benny out of his funk, but whatever he did, it’s impressive.

I catch Sin watching me, but he doesn’t look away.

Sin watches everyone, and he uses any information he gleans to diffuse tensions within the group. That man is the glue that holds them together. Just like he knew what to do when he found me freaking out, I’ve seen him—when he thinks no one is watching—act in similar ways with the others. His greatest talent is making sure the team has Enzo’s back. I know Enzo sees everything he does, but right now I wonder if Nico and Benny understand the pivotal role he plays, or do they just see him as the grumpy geek he pretends to be? They have to know, right?

Enzo returns, breezing into the room with his shields back up. Nothing about his countenance reveals how he dealt with his little problem. He appears strong and rigid, and in no way relaxed. But that’s what he always looks like when he’s getting down to business.

Everyone has a coffee mug and is assuming either a perch on the counter or the couch as he calls this meeting to order.

“Sin has found something that will work, but it’s risky. If we get caught, we’ll be enemy number one to all Syndicate members. I can’t stress enough how much I need you all to follow the fucking plan.” He levels his gaze on each of them and then stops on me.

“You will not be involved in any part of the pickup.” There’s a pregnant pause, as if he’s expecting me to disagree with him.

“Zo, I may be ready to tear their throats out through their assholes, but I’m not fucking stupid.” He smirks at my colourful imagery. I pause and lift my chin, ready to stand on the hill I will die on. “But I will be involved with the interrogation.”

---