Page 127 of The Penalty

Mildly Hot: And tell Killian my heart is broken beyond repair

“The fact that you still have him in your phone as Mildly Hot is hilarious and ridiculous.” Killian’s infectious laugh filled me with warmth. “Let Xavier know Max is willing to share.”

“Uh, no he’s not.” Max arched an eyebrow.

“Neither am I.” I flashed my best friend a smug smile. “Xavier’s all mine, sweetie.”

“Look at those claws. Get it girl.”

Once we ordered and the food arrived we were knee deep in wedding talk. I haven’t had much to look forward to this year outside of work. Ending it with my best friend’s wedding could be the perfect remedy to the muddled chaos that’s been following me around since, well, since forever it feels like.

“And then after the wedding, we’ll be ready to go with Charlotte’s foundation.” Killian squeezed my hand. “Tracey and I just need to get Hannah’s signature. Her family has been beyond generous.”

The Caldwells offered to donate a sizable amount of money to help get the foundation off the ground. As grateful as I was to them, I insisted on providing most of the financial support.

We’d finalized which animal shelters and mental health clinics will receive the first grants. Our inaugural event next spring will be the big reveal for everyone.

“I have a couple of meetings lined up with potential donors,” I said, clasping his hand in mine. “Thank you both for all the work you’ve done so far.”

“Have you told your parents about it yet?”

“I’ll tell my dad now that the name is official.” I frowned. “I doubt my mother would care. She’ll probably say it’s an extravagant way for me to avoid taking responsibility for—”

“Enough.” Killian’s sharp tone startled me. The people at surrounding tables glanced in our direction. “Helena has her own shit to work through. You are not responsible for anything. Tell the voices in your head to shut the fuck up.”

Heavy tension clouded our otherwise enjoyable dinner. Killian was right though. One of these days I’ll silence the nagging, accusatory inner monologue that’s plagued me since Charlotte took her own life.

“What name did you decide to use?” Max’s tentative question sifted through the unpleasantness.

I sipped some water before answering. “The Seraphim Rising Foundation.”

Max propped his chin on his hand, regarding me curiously. “What does seraphim mean?”

“It means…” I paused. “Well, I’ve seen several definitions for it but my favorite is fiery ones. Traditionally, Seraphim are red-winged angels. You know the tattoo I have? The twin phoenix feathers made from flames? A version of that will be the logo. I thought it would all tie in nicely.” I caught Max’s eye. “I guess you could say the meaning is really only significant to me. Always trying to rise from the ashes.”

The boys remained quiet for a few seconds.

“I like it,” Max finally said. “I know your sister would like it too. You’re a smart one, Victoria. You never cease to amaze me.”

Killian’s eyes widened. I could tell he was ready to fire off a sarcastic remark. “Don’t encourage her, Max. She loves to show off her Ivy League education to us regular university kids.”

“Maybe if you cracked a book open once in a while, your vocabulary would expand beyond like, follow, and share.”

Killian raised his middle finger and blew a kiss. I couldn’t hold back my laughter when I mimicked his gesture.

“I’m marrying into this. Voluntarily.” Max rubbed his eyes.

An incoming text disrupted us.

Unknown: No grass, but there was touching

An uncomfortable shiver passed through me. Ignoring it, I put the phone down and leaned back into our conversation.

“Someone just got a dirty message from their hot boyfriend.” Killian folded his hands. “What did he say?”

Think, Victoria, think.

My day job is all about staying on message and talking points and controlling the conversation.

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