Page 144 of Slaughter

Tristan nods. “Thank you, Ralph.”

I tug on Avery’s button-down. “Why can’t we stay at my house?”

“It’s not safe,” he replies.

“I don’t think she’s safe anywhere around you.” Alex gives him another jab, but like the man he is, he ignores her well.

Tristan looks at her but speaks to Ralph. “Show Alex to her room.”

Her brows rise. “My room?”

“Unless you plan on going?”

She looks at me. Her eyes run over my faded bruises and then back at Tristan. “I’ll stay.” She says it like I’m in danger here. When, in fact, this is the safest place for me to be at the moment.

I close my eyes and place my hand over my mouth to cover a yawn. The day is catching up with me.

“Come on, Bunny.” Avery pulls me forward, and my shoes slap on the floor. Too heavy to pick up and my eyes too tired to stay open.

He takes me down a hallway and then pushes open a door. I step inside the bedroom and look around when he switches the light on. It’s big and extravagant. But that’s what I expect when it comes to Tristan. He and Avery were always alike.

I fall onto the king-size bed. The fluffy dark brown comforter swallows me up. The bed dips, and I open my heavy eyes to see Avery now sitting beside me. His hand caresses my cheek. “How do you feel?”

“Good.” I give him a drunken smile and close my eyes again.

Then I feel his lips on my forehead. “Get some rest.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

AVERY

I SHUT OFF THE LIGHT AND close the door, allowing her some sleep.

“Can I get you anything Mr. Decker?” Ralph, my brother’s butler, asks me.

“No, thank you.”

He turns to walk away but stops and faces me. “Your brother wants to speak to you. He is in his study.” Then he disappears.

I remove my suit jacket and walk up the stairs to his second floor. I don’t know why he wanted his office up here. I tried to tell him it would be better on the first, but he never listens to anything I say.

Coming up to the landing, I take a right and enter the second door on the left. He sits behind his desk. “You wanted to see me.”

“Yes, I …”

“You’ve been ignoring my calls, Avery.” A voice announces from the speakerphone on his desk.

My eyes narrow on my brother’s. He tricked me. “I’ve been busy.”

“With Presleigh?”

I say nothing.

Tristan leans forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “Sir, we just arrived in New York.”

“To get Preston?” our boss asks.

“Other business,” I answer, sitting down across from his desk.

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