Page 151 of The Price of Forever

“You’d like to view it that way.” Axel laughed, crossing his arms. “Jesus Christ. Well, I’d like to hire a close protection officer who makes good on his word.”

I clenched and unclenched my jaw, suddenly wary of where this was heading. “I promise you, I followed all appropriate protocols—”

“Like you followed the protocol about beginning a relationship with your client?” Damian interjected.

I clamped my mouth shut. The shit had officially hit the fan.

“You had one job,” Axel spat. “One place to keep her away from. One person to keep out of her life. And look where the fuck we are right now.”

“She’s a grown woman,” I said, but my rationale withered in the wake of their righteous anger. “I can’t influence decisions. I can only protect given the circumstances.”

Axel laughed dryly. “That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. I’d fallen headfirst into the most complicated situation of my life, and I didn’t know where to go from here but through. “I can’t change how I feel about Jordan, but—”

“Would you rather resign or get fired in the middle of a hospital waiting room?” Damian asked, sniffing. His question caught me off guard. All the delirium and anxiety from spending the morning sleep-deprived in the hospital made me shaky. Off-balance. Absolutely prone to collapsing from within.

That’s what was happening to my insides. Utter destruction. All of the worst-case scenarios, wrapped up into one little brick launched off the skyscraper rooftop of my brain, where it would explode on the floor at my feet.

“You guys,” I sputtered, “this isn’t how I wanted—”

“I have zero qualms with firing you right here,” Axel said. “In fact, at this point, I think it would be fitting.”

“Please.” I looked at each of them in turn, trying to turn this ship around. “Let’s talk about this later. After we’ve calmed down.”

Axel shook his head, his blue gaze searing through me. “Consider your work with the Fairchilds terminated immediately.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

JORDAN

“You wanna press the button?” Seven’s teasing question made me laugh as we entered the elevator in my building. He’d been so doting and sweet to me since I’d been discharged from the hospital that morning.

Given what went down between him and my brothers, I needed to escape. We’d snuck out together in the early hours, before my brothers had a chance to come pick me up. Damian and Axel were also furious with me, but they still wanted to help. I could feel the frostiness in our interactions, though. The suspicion. The growing distance. And after a decade of distance followed by so much warmth, I never wanted to feel that coldness between us again.

“I’d rather race you,” I told him, pressing the button for the fourth floor. “But I don’t want to make you feel bad for losing after you just lost your job, too.”

He bit back a smile, wrapping me in his arms as the doors closed. “That’s very thoughtful. For a brat.”

I laughed and looked up at him, clutching his thick forearms wrapped around me. Everything was a total mess, but in his arms, I could find a little sanity and stability.

And we both needed it.

At my floor, he leaned against the doorframe as I hunted for my key.

“I’ve been dying to see your new place,” he said, his eyes on me rummaging through my purse.

I glanced up at him, and my mouth parted. His bicep bulged where he leaned against the doorframe, his looming, powerful frame an aphrodisiac I wasn’t prepared to behold.

“Can you not stand like that?” I ripped my gaze away from him to re-focus on the task at hand. “That sexy lean is dangerous. I don’t want to alienate my neighbors this early. I’ve only lived here for a few weeks. That’s far too little time to start fucking in the hallway.”

“Mm.” He only leaned harder. “If you hadn’t just gotten out of the hospital, I’d make good on the last part of that sentence.”

I couldn’t fight the grin as I finally found my key and opened the door. It swung open, showcasing my brightly lit, wood-floored paradise. I took it in with new eyes, after my surprise hospital stay. The newest potted plant additions—a fern, an enormous snake plant, and a baby fig tree—all stood bathed in sunlight in the kitchen, not even drooping like I feared they would. I glided in, gesturing around. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”

He clicked the door shut behind us, taking a few moments to look around and absorb everything. Then he nodded.

“It’s perfect.”

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