Page 52 of Checks & Bonds

"I know." Her eyes raked over me, appraisingly. "So what brings you here tonight, Henry? You don't look like the regulars."

I shrugged, swirling the whiskey in my glass. "Needed to blow off some steam."

"Trouble at home?" She raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes.

"You could say that," I muttered.

Amber moved closer, her perfume—something floral and intoxicating—filling my senses. "Well," she purred, "if you need help forgetting your troubles for a while..."

Her hand rested on my arm, fingers trailing lightly over my skin. I stared at her for a moment, contemplating. Freya's defiance flashed through my mind again—a thorn that refused to dislodge itself. The idea of using Amber as some twisted form of retribution crossed my mind.

But as I looked into her eyes, something held me back. The anger inside me roared for release but not like this—not through someone who didn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire of my rage and frustration.

I took another long drink from my glass instead and met Amber’s gaze with a forced smile.

Loyalty. More than anything, my grandfather taught me loyalty.

Freya may be a thorn in my ass, but I couldn't be disloyal to her. Not even in a moment of weakness.

"Not interested," I said, voice flat.

Amber pouted, batting her eyelashes with a practiced ease. "Rebecca said you'd be open to it."

"Rebecca?" My jaw tightened. Why the hell would Rebecca say something like that? Especially if she was trying to get me for herself.

My fingers tightened around the glass, the whiskey sloshing slightly. Unless there was more to it...

"She said you might be showing up tonight," Amber continued, oblivious to my growing anger. "You know, this place only opens up a couple of times a week. She said you weren't going to be in the best of moods and that you needed the distraction. She said you were good, and you were looking for someone with experience."

My eyes narrowed. I hated how well Rebecca knew me. Hated that she could predict my movements and moods with such accuracy. The thought of her manipulating the situation made my blood boil even more.

"And what did Rebecca get out of this little arrangement?" I asked, my voice low and dangerous.

Amber shrugged, taking another sip of her whiskey. "She didn't say. Just that she thought it would be... beneficial for both of us."

I set my glass down on the bar with a hard clink, standing up straight. "Tell Rebecca that I'm not interested in her games."

Amber's eyes widened slightly at the coldness in my tone, but she nodded, stepping back. "Sure thing."

Something gnawed at me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something felt off. Rebecca knew me, could predict my actions. Why would she send one of her friends her to distract me,especially since she gave me so much shit for not claiming her at the Imprinting ceremony?

Home.

I needed to get home.

Without another word, I turned and headed toward the exit. The dim lights and murmur of the crowd faded behind me as I pushed through the doors into the cold night air.

Loyalty meant something to me, even if Freya didn't realize it yet. Even if Rebecca tried to twist it for her own gain.

As I drove, a gnawing anxiousness clawed at my insides. Rebecca knew I'd come to the fight club. She probably knew Freya and I wouldn't get along from the start. It was almost too convenient.

My heart slammed against my chest, each beat a reminder of the dread building inside me.

Freya.

The realization hit me like a sledgehammer. Rebecca knew I'd leave Freya alone tonight. She knew how to push my buttons, how to play me like a puppet on strings. I'd never bring Freya to the fight club.

Ever.

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