Page 87 of Kings & Chaos

“Where’s the present?” I asked, sliding into one of the chairs at the island.

Rock tipped his head at the black box, finished with a big pink satin bow, sitting by the blender.

“We’re giving it to her with breakfast right?” I confirmed.

Rock nodded.

“I don’t think we should tell her about the tracker,” Neo said.

My head snapped up to look at him, pacing the kitchen. Guy was like a fucking rabid animal, always prowling, afraid to sit down in the sun even for a second.

“No way. We tell her the truth,” I said.

“If we tell her the truth, she won’t wear it all the time,” Neo said.

“She will,” Rock said. “Especially after what happened at the cabin.”

“She’s too stubborn,” Neo grumbled. “Too… reckless. She doesn’t understand what’s at stake.”

“Whose fault is that?” I asked. He shot me a glare that would have frozen hell, and I continued. “I’m just saying. She knows she’s in danger. She’s determined to find out what happened to Emma. She’s not stupid.”

“Agreed,” Rock said, flipping blueberry pancakes on the griddle. “We have to tell her.”

“What if she won’t wear it?” Neo asked.

“That’s a chance we have to take. This isn’t some random girl we’re talking about. This is Willa. We have to tell her the truth from now on, at least when it comes to the stuff we’re sure about.”

Neo stared me down. “You’re just saying all of this because of last night.”

I knew what jealousy looked like on Neo, and it was written all over his fucking face. “No, I’m saying it because of everything. Because of what happened when we were kids, because of the last three months that she’s been living here. She’s not some abstract person.”

She’s ours. She’s mine.

I left that part unsaid. It felt like it had been true forever, but Neo wasn’t ready to accept it.

“I’m with Drago,” Rock said. “And if you’re bent out of shape about last night, you only have one person to blame. You could have joined us. I doubt she would have objected. It’s pretty obvious the two of you need to fuck.”

A familiar shadow passed over Neo’s features. It was the same tortured expression he’d get when we were kids and his dad was being especially vicious, except now Neo punished himself.

I was pretty sure that he felt like he deserved it. That he didn’t think he deserved anything good.

And there was nothing better than Willa.

“This isn’t about last night,” he said, the mask of cool indifference back on his face. “I couldn’t care less who she fucks.”

His voice was full of false bravado, and I thought about the way he’d beaten Enzo when he’d dared to put his hands on Willa, the way he’d broken Josh Ryan’s fingers at Ruby’s. He wanted to tear apart anyone who touched Willa, maybe even me and Rock if he couldn’t have her.

In other words, Neo was a fucking liar, but there was no point calling him on it.

“If you say so,” Rock said, whisking the egg yolks in the saucepan.

“We’re telling her the truth.” I took a drink of my coffee. “End of story.”

“Telling me the truth about what?”

We turned toward the voice and there she was, looking like a fucking movie star with sex-rumpled hair and a little of last night’s makeup under her green eyes. She was wearing one of my plain black T-shirts, and it hung to mid-thigh, her legs bare except for a pair of thick socks she’d clearly nabbed from my dresser.

I’d never wanted anyone more. I’d never wanted to protect anyone more.

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