Page 5 of Sweet Rule
Someone whose biggest risk is an investment portfolio or a marketing plan they are sure has increased ROI doesn't know dick. I roll my shoulders and crack my neck while I ride the elevator down to the first floor. When the elevator doors slide open there’s nothing but more quiet that greets me.
It is the kind of quiet that used to exist in my penthouse, but Honey had been there to chase it away. Her warmth and laughter, the fact that she made herself known in every room she was in, making it easy for me to know exactly where my girl was, it had turned that penthouse from a place that was no more special to me than this empty lobby into something more.
Honey had made it a home.
My chest goes tight, the burn of what had happened coming alive. I have to concentrate on keeping the emotion of losing her at bay. I love her. Love every part of her down to her fucking bones. Every part of me that I’ve killed, shut down and forced to die, has sprung to life with Honey. Those weeks had been enough for me to remember what it was to walk in the light.
I exit the building, the doors sliding away in front of me. The air is cool still but it will be summer soon. Honey had told me how much she loved summer in the city, which is proof she’s the kind of woman that goes looking for the good in every situation. No one likes summer in the city.
The heat makes people angry and irrational. There isn’t a New Yorker that wouldn’t jump at a reason to ditch town for cooler climates, but Honey insisted it suited her just fine.
“I grew up in South Texas, Law. It doesn’t get that much hotter and as for the people?” She shrugged, giving me a lopsided grin. “I’ve had worse. Plus, you’re going to be here this summer.”
She’d kissed me then, slow and with a smile curving her lips against mine. I’d smiled too, holding her tight and giving into the idea that summer in New York could be a good thing if I had Honey with me. I had planned to spoil her with trips to the best restaurants, time in a spa, forced shopping trips she’d insist she didn’t need but would happen because I like to dress her in the best that money could buy.
She deserves it. That is the kind of man Honey turned me into. Soft enough for me to want to push away the ugly I’d come face-to-face with so that I could be a man worthy of her.
She made me want to be a man again.
The kind that doesn’t just exist to conquer and endure, but a man that has a home to go back to when the work is done.
Zeus has taken that from me. Why, I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. And Addie is the key to it.
I climb into the car and nod at Taylor. He is ready, face grim as he waits for the destination. He isn’t going to like it, but he’ll do it. I have a feeling I’m not going to like it either, but it has to be done.
“Take me to Addie’s.”
CHAPTERTHREE
HONEY
“Did you sleep well?” Zeus asks.
I nod and keep my eyes lowered at the question. I’m sitting with him at a long dining table. It is dark wood, polished to a high shine that gleams beneath the golden light cast from the chandelier. Delicate crystal, silver utensils and fine china make up the dinner set in front of me. There are other people, thirteen or so, all seated at the table with us and involved in their own little conversations as they sip their wine and sample from the feast laid out in front of us.
There is more food and drink here than any of us can possibly consume, but that is Zeus’ way, or so I’m fast coming to learn. Meats, exotic fruit and cheese are piled high on marble charcuterie boards that I would normally do my best to dive right into, but I don’t have the stomach for it. Not even the ornate desserts can tempt me. I have a plate put in front of me, piled high, all the same. My eyes drop to it. It’s easier to look at it than Zeus. He is watching me again.
I carefully catalog my food, focusing on my breathing. There is lamb on my plate with a rosemary sauce. Salad and fresh baked bread that looks like it has-
“Are you not hungry?” Zeus’ question stops the conversation. Everyone seemingly loses interest in what they are doing when he speaks. I raise my eyes, because the silence is so loud I am powerless to do anything else. I have to look at him, even if I don’t want to.
I mostly don’t want to look at Zeus because he has a way of seeing parts of me that I don’t want him to. I figure he does it to everyone in his world. The uncanny ability to crack people right open with a single glance and see what is brewing deep beneath the surface.
He has to, from the way I see people bend over backward to please him. Everyone at this table is waiting to see what he will say next, what he will do next. Even if they are sipping their drinks with feigned laziness and enjoying their meals, I am under no illusion they wouldn’t cartwheel over each other to please him.
Zeus’ eyes move over my face before he sighs and leans back in his chair. “You don’t look well, Honey.”
I swallow hard. How the fuck am I supposed to look when the man I love has sold me out for a piece of the pie that is the Cairn? Law has enough money to do whatever he wants for more than one lifetime. It wasn’t the money that had driven him to do it, but the power. Knowing my man would play me to wield a little more power doesn’t exactly do anything good for my mindset.
I shrug. I’m not going to say a word of that to Zeus. It’s not like he hasn’t picked up on it in the almost week I’ve spent with him. He knows I’m not sleeping, even if I don't leave my room. There is no hiding how little I am eating. I’m living here now, I guess.
I don’t have anywhere to go, not really. I had moved in with Law, for all intents and purposes. Even so, the quiet of my walk-up isn’t what I want right now, even if I don’t spend time in the club other than the meal times.
Meal times are non-negotiable for Zeus. The first day that I didn’t come he came to my door to get me himself. His crisp rap on the door announced him and just from hearing that knock, I’d known it was him coming to get me. I’d followed him awkwardly with a pillow crease across my cheek from the nap I’d been taking, to the dining room of the club, a big sprawling room with a table fit for twenty at the center of it. Since then, I make sure to attend dinners so that I’m not shuffling after him and feeling even more out of sorts than I already do.
“I’m tired. That’s all,” I say quietly.
“You need to take care of yourself.”
