Page 186 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

I grin. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, of course. I can’t believe we’re fucking doing this, finally.”

“We’re doing this for you,” He reminds me. “So if you need anything from us, you’ll tell us?”

“Yeah, of course,” I frown. “Why? Is there something you think I need?”

“Is there something you think you do need?”

“I fucking hate mind games, Mr. Rogers.”

“I fucking hate being called Mr. Rogers by you kids. Just call me Drake.”

“No.”

“Fucking brat.”

“So I’ve been called.”

“Natalie’s been telling me about someone who happens to be the senator’s stepson.”

I drop my teasing and grimace. “Okay?”

“Is he going to be a problem?”

I blink. “What? What are you saying… Oh! No!” My eyes widen as a sudden rush of anxiety hits me. “No! Rurik's okay. He won't be a problem. At least, I don't think so.”

Mr. Rogers just stares at me, his eyes unblinking. It’s like he’s trying to peer through my brain and read my thoughts, and I don’t like it.

I glare. “I’m serious. Rurik is fine.”

“So that’s his name,” He says slowly. A small smirk formed across his face. “Rurik.”

“We’re not a thing anymore if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried…Wait, he’s that boy that threatened me during Natalie and Oscar’s wedding.” He raises a brow. “The painter.”

“What do you want?” I grunt, crossing my arms.

Mr. Rogers just shrugs. “I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Is that wrong?”

“Okay, Dad,” I say in a playful mocking tone. “I promise, Rurik is perfect—”

“Don’t. I bet you call him Daddy too—”

“What the fuck?”

“I don’t need to hear what he’s good at.” He interrupts, his face twisting into a feigning look of disgust.

After a few minutes of us exchanging disgusted looks, his face softens. “I just felt like I needed to remind you that despite us not being blood-related, you’re our family.”

Oh.

I look away, nodding. “Yeah, I know. Thank you.”

Jesus, my heart feels heavy now.

“You’ll come to us if you need help?” He presses. “We’re going after the senator for you, Briar. I hope that proves nothing we won’t do for you.”

Without thinking, I throw my arms around him and bury my face against his side. “Thank you. I know. You, Nat, Oscar, Mrs. Rogers… You guys are my family.”

---