Page 56 of Deadly Passion

“I’m not the only one who’s been pretending, Freddie,” I say. “Unless you want to talk to me about how we’re going to kill Trout, I want you to get the fuck out of my room.”

“We’ll let you know the plan tomorrow morning,” he says curtly. “We’ll bring you Trout, and you can take it from there.”

“Fine,” I snap in agreement.

Usually, I’d argue and insist I want to be involved in the planning stages, but I can’t bear to be around him right now without wanting to wring his neck.

He turns and walks out without saying another word, leaving me with a plate of cold food that I no longer have an appetite for. Freddie may be disappointed about his perfect woman being an assassin, but I’m equally disappointed in him. He’s not the Prince Charming I built him up to be.

CHAPTER 35

FREDDIE

Istorm out of Ivy’s room before she can see my hands shaking. My heart thuds hard enough that I feel it beating at the back of my throat. Maybe Ivy’s right. I am a monster, and I’ve been fooling myself all along.

Bram waits on the landing. He crosses his arms over his chest, and his eyes narrow in silent judgement. It’s easy for him to act self-righteous when he knew the truth about her from the start. She didn’t deceive him or lift his hopes only to rip them away.

“What?” I demand.

He scowls. He must have heard everything, which makes me feel worse, but I don’t let it show.

“Get out of my way,” I hiss.

He raises his eyebrows.Or, what? Are you going to hit me too?

“Move,” I snap, hiding my shame under a furious expression. “That’s an order.”

He doesn’t move, blocking my path.

“Bram,” I lower my voice in warning. “I know you’re injured, but I won’t hesitate if you—”

He lurches forward. I brace myself. Instead of punching me, he opens his arms and pulls me into an embrace. Shock roots me to the spot, and he tightens his hold. Do I look like I’ve lost my shit enough that I want a fucking hug? If so, I have to pull myself together fast.

We stand for what feels like ten minutes but only seconds have passed. He squeezes my shoulders to let me know he’s here, that he understands my pain, that he knows how awful I feel about what I did… and that he’s still here, despite everything.

Would he act like this if he knew about the deal I tried to make with the Killers Club? I planned to hand Ivy to the people who made her a murderer. I let my hurt overshadow how the Dukes stand for protection. I don’t deserve his kindness. Taking a punch would have been easier. Ivy’s assessment of me was correct. Yes, she hurt me, but it didn’t justify my actions.

“Freddie,” Seb calls. Bram loosens his hold, and I step backwards, brushing myself down and pretending this didn’t happen. “Food’s going cold!”

I clear my throat and adjust my shirt collar. It’s my job to look after my men, not the other way around. I shouldn’t have let my mask slip, but Bram draws emotions out of people, even when they least want him to. It’s an uncanny ability.

“We need to eat,” I tell him gruffly.

Bram nudges his head towards Ivy’s door in reply, questioning whether she’ll be joining us.

“I brought her a plate,” I say.

Bram’s gaze lingers on her door, still not content.

“She’ll be fine,” I insist. “Look, I know I shouldn’t have...” I give up on trying to make excuses. “She wants to be alone.”

He smiles sadly, then nods his head. Although he’s torn about leaving her behind, he’s still following my instructions, which means something.

Back in the living room, discarded takeaway boxes cover the carpet. Callen and Seb sit on the sofa, shovelling food into their mouths like they haven’t eaten for weeks.

“I left your food in the kitchen,” Seb says, then narrows his eyes in Callen’s direction, “before someone tried to eat it all.”

“Thanks,” I reply, but I’m not hungry.

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