Page 85 of The Retreat

Old One: Should I shout it across the room? Think he’ll hear me from the locker room?

Annoying Little Sister: You really are the worst *eye roll emoji*

Old One: And you have his number, text him yourself. I’m not his secretary.

Except I am. I keep his schedule, maintain his routines, and make sure he’s in bed on time. Mostly on time. Sometimes.

Okay, he’s in bed on time, but rarely sleeping.

Annoying Little Sister: Give him a hug for me when you see him

Old One: Are you trying to take what I’ve already stolen? Hands off my husband. You had a chance at him.

Annoying Little Sister: If I had known who Dad was going to set me up with, I would have married Owen

That has my attention.

Old One: Who the hell has he set you up with and when?

Annoying Little Sister: Theo Bradford *angry face*

Old One: Are you kidding me? He’s thirty-one, divorced, and has three kids!

Anger flairs to life in my chest and burns through me. I clench my jaw to keep from screaming, and my foot starts bouncing. What the actual fuck is he thinking? And what kind of pervert agrees to this? She’s a teenager, for fuck’s sake! Had Owen and I done this all for nothing? If she gets married, what would that mean for Owen and me? Maybe he’d be happier being free.

“Problem?” Roberts is on high alert, scanning the area for what’s set me off.

“Nothing here. You can relax.” I force myself to breathe, though I want to strangle my father instead. “My father is a prick.”

He hums but doesn’t say anything else. I’m left to stew on the other side of the country where I can’t do anything.

Except…

Corruptor: What are the odds that Oliver dislikes Theo Bradford?

Baby Bird: Should I know who that is?

Corruptor: Probably not, but I need a favor.

Baby Bird: Is someone dying?

Corruptor: My father, if he doesn’t stop trying to sell off my sister.

Baby Bird: Uh oh. Tell me what’s going on and I’ll call Oliver.

Corruptor: he’s here, I can talk to him.

Baby Bird: you know it will be better coming from me.

I spend the next few minutes telling him what I know, texting Cassie to get more information, and relaying that as well. I’m not sure if Oliver has a real hatred for the Bradfords or if I should buy a lotto ticket, but he agrees to help Cassie. I could kiss him.

I won’t because he would murder me, if I was even able to get that close to him, which I doubt. But I would.

Owen starts out the match as the first player for the round robin. The round ends after someone gets five points or three minutes passes. Whichever happens first.

I lean my forearms on my knees, watching his every move. He was an amazing fencer before joining this team, and his skills have only improved. Not to mention the muscle he’s put on because of all the training. I regularly worship him on my knees.

He’s agile and patient, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The way he reads his opponent is both impressive and terrifying and gets me hard. Sword fighting is sexy as fuck, and the way he handles himself out on the piste…I bite my lip to hold in a moan when Owen parries the attack and moves seamlessly into a riposte for the touch. It’s like watching art at this level.

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