Page 145 of Tangled in Knots

“Hello,” I repeat, my fingers rubbing together to ground myself. Friction, pinching myself, squishing my toes until they cramp in my boots, these are all ways I fight my way through anxiety ridden situations recently.

I can’t afford to lose my shit.

“Please sit,” Cian says, his eyes warm and inviting. “We wanted to talk to you, and know you’re keeping a low profile. That’s why the restaurant is empty. Your safety is very important to us, Adira.”

Hearing Cian tell me I’m safe helps, since his driver could tell me anything on his orders. Cian is careful to maintain eye contact as he speaks to me, making it easier to believe he’s telling the truth.

People often lie for their employers all the time, something I’m well aware of. There’s only so much trust I’m willing to give Evan because he’s Aisling’s mate.

I’ll always be on edge around people I don’t know, even after Rock’s death. The world is inherently cruel, and nothing will ever change my mind about it.

I’m jaded after my experience with the auction house and having been shot before that.

Sitting down slowly across from them, I keep my gaze on the three of them, watching as Evan leaves the restaurant. Good, one less person to keep track of.

“I can feel your distrust, Adira,” Cian says, appearing amused.

“I don’t trust many people,” I reply. The words ‘not anymore’hang between us, and he nods.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“I’ll be fine with bread,” I murmur, my eyes skimming the menu. I can’t eat any of this, my stomach will definitely rebel.

Cecil leans forward, forehead crinkling. “Absolutely not,” he says. “You’re speaking to two men who have raised children and want to feed you. If there’s something wrong with Italian food, please tell us.”

“My appetite hasn’t been great recently,” I admit. “Heavy sauces tend to upset my stomach.”

“How does a light soup sound?” Cecil asks. “The chef here is wonderful, and makes my wife things that aren’t on the menu often. He would rather know you’re eating and happy.”

Cian stares at me for a moment, assessing what I’m not saying. “Does this have anything to do with your kidnapping with the Dresmond boys?” he asks.

“It does,” I say, taking a breath. “I was shot a few days after Christmas when I attempted to run away. They kept me sedated afterward.”

Cecil’s lips part for a moment before he snarls. “I have a lot of choice words that aren’t polite. Why are we helping these dickheads again?” he asks.

“They’re the lesser of two evils,” I mutter. “Without having to go into a lot of detail that’ll probably want to make you kill people, Rock wants to torture me by continually auctioning my body, until he gets tired of it and eventually kills me. In his mind,doing things to ensure my father is ‘rolling in his grave’ is the best use of his time.”

“The alpha is out of his mind,” Cian says. “Let’s get our food order in because I swear I can hear your stomach growling.”

Signaling the waiter, we order, and he reassures me it won’t be an issue to make me a simple soup. Feeling better once the waiter places glasses of water and bread on the table, I pick up a slice to begin this discussion.

“If Dad had as much money as Caelin told me last night that he did, then I don’t understand why Rock is insisting he stole from him,” I begin. “He had his sons blow up my childhood home, kidnap me, and deliver me at an auction house to be sold.”

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Cecil asks, eyes narrowing when he hears the sharp stopping point in my words.

“There’s only so much distance I can manage when speaking about this,” I tell him. “I’m still having panic attacks and the details aren’t really important for deciding if you’ll help Pack Dresmond in their bid to overthrow Pack Rock.”

“You’re very determined for your age,” Cian says. “Stubborn as hell as well. This pack hurt you in ways that are unimaginable for alphas. Why are they a better option than Rock?”

“Rock pulls their strings,” I explain. “I don’t endorse their actions, because I’m not a masochist, but they are showing me they no longer wish to blindly follow their father. The issue lies in the fact that once Rock figures that out, he won’t have any use for Pack Dresmond.”

“He’d kill his own sons,” Cecil grunts, connecting the dots.

“Yes, he would. I don’t know their entire story, but I believe Rock did things to create the perfect soldiers in his sons,” I say. “They never asked questions. It feels like too little too late in many ways, but they realize they can’t continue to do their father’s bidding.”

“And they’re also connected to you, aren’t they?” Cian asks. “They have to be for them to be this driven in double crossing and killing their own father.”

“Yes. I’m scent matched and bonded to Damon. We found that out while I was being kidnapped, but things were already in motion,” I sigh.

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