Page 90 of Iris
How about…a bastardization of the truth? I was there, after a delivery, which can be true. Sometimes I am. I went out for a smoke, and I heard something. Saved you from those to fuckwits. You were upset, beyond upset. Because your dress was torn and from what they said. I helped you and took you?—
I grab his arm and the typing stops. “What do you mean what they said?”
A muscle tics in his jaw.
Xavier
In the Stiches.
I nod tightly. “And where did you take me?”
Xavier
Home?
“No. There are servants.” I pause, thinking.
And then, shaking, I call Violet.
“Iris! Thank god.” The phone muffles. “It’s Iris. She’s okay, Stephan. Youareokay, aren’t you?”
I meet Xavier’s gaze. “Yes.”
“We’re halfway out the door. Mari’s running interference with Stephan, saying you’re on a walk. But…where are you? We’re coming to get you.”
“No. I’ll go, you’re pregnant, Princess,” her mate says, making me both happy and irritated.
“We’ll both go.” Then she says to me, “Where are you?”
I give her the details and she says, “We’ll be there in ten.”
They’re here in five, and whenever they’re together, I can see it, how they fit, how they complement each other.
I swear she’s even bigger now than the last time we spoke, and Stephan stands so close, protective of his family. Of her.
But his expression turns to sparking flint when he sees Xavier.
I’m still in his coat which swims on me, but thank goodness my modesty’s restored, the bra protecting me, the ripped ends tucked into the join of the cups and I can’t help think it no doubt improves the dress.
“Why are we meeting across from the school?” Violet asks after enveloping me in a big, warm hug.
“Heath.”
“He’s not on the warpath yet,” Violet says.
“He will be.” Stephan nods at Xavier. “He’s not going to be happy.”
There’s a tenseness in the air, and though Xavier hasn’t said a word, it’s clear he’s ready to defend me. So is Stephan.
I shift in between the men. “This is?—”
“I know who he is.” Stephan doesn’t lift his gaze from Xavier.
Violet crosses to me. “I don’t.”
It’s Vi, and she’s asking me silently for an explanation, so I tell her. The planned story anyway. She looks at her phone and goes pale, putting it away. “Two of them?”
Heat burns in my cheeks. “I didn’t—Xavier saved me from Donegal and Jerome?—”
