Page 63 of Sire
“Vale is my daughter’s best friend, and I’ll die before I hurt my daughter. And me being with Vale? It’d hurt Alena. But if they weren’t best friends?” He shakes his head. “Vale would be mine. She’d drive me bat-shit crazy with her snarky mouth, and I’d be the happiest man alive.”
“I think you should go for it. Help Vale with her accounting. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“A lot.” His tone gets serious. “The worst that can happen is exactly why I’m sitting here, honored to be protecting you.” He pauses. “You need to let us go after the man who sold you into that trafficking ring, Wren. I’m fucking serious.”
I glance away.
I’m really torn on this.
“Wren?” Nash touches my arm. “Men like him don’t stop at hurting one girl. He won’t stop untilheis stopped.”
I turn back. “Can I think about it?”
“Yeah.” He winks. “And you can pick what we watch.”
We go through a bag of popcorn while we watchJohn Wick, and I impress Nash with how many times I notice when a gun fires more shots than its magazine would allow.
We’re like two peas in an ammo pod, until he starts to doze off and I curl up beside him and close my eyes, too.
Hours must’ve passed because I wake up in Sire’s arms, carrying me across the room.
“You’re home,” I sigh happily.
“Yes, Angel. I came home for you.”
I glance over his shoulder into the living room. “Where’s Nash?”
“He left thirty minutes ago.”
“I like him.”
“Good.” He lies me down on his bed. “You’ll need to pick a second king, and Nash is available.”
“A second king? Like you two will?—”
“Shhh.” He kisses me. “Let’s sleep. We can play Q&A tomorrow.”
Through heavy eyelids, I watch him loosen his tie. “I like you in a suit.”
“Do you?” He grins, hanging his jacket in a neat row of a dozen dark ones that match. “I would’ve thought you’d liked my younger, Gucci look.”
“No.” I joke, “I like your whole lusty, oh my Lord look.”
He laughs, unbuttoning his starched shirt, “Well then—” But his phone on the nightstand buzzes.
“Shit,” he mutters.
I glance over and seeFIVEon his screen. “Who’s Five?”
“Jace,” he tells me before answering, “Yeah?”
His eyes narrow while I can hear the angry boom in Jace’s voice, but I can’t tell what he’s saying.
“Goddammit!” Sire roars. “Don’t let them kill him! I’m on my way.”
He hangs up and looks at me. “Get dressed, Angel. I can’t leave you here, and I’ve got brothers trying to kill each other.”
Briskly,we walk down the midnight sidewalks of Charleston. The bar scene is alive, and it puts Sire on edge.
