Page 9 of The Revenge Agenda

“Ian’s fiancé.”

“Huh.” Madden laughs. “All I would have given you is a black eye.”

“Yeah … that was strangely nice of him.” Molly wrinkles his nose.

“He said he wanted me gone.”

“Tell me you didn’t try to stay?”

“Of course not. I went down the street. Then I remembered my bag, and so of course, I couldn’t go back and get it in case they saw me, and so I was waiting for them to fall asleep, but it was so cold, and then Hunter was there with my things and making me warm and ordering me a ride.”

“I promise you that if I ever found some hussy sniffing around Seven, I would not be compassionate. At all.” Molly hesitates. “My default is to hate Hunter and hate Ian and ride out to defend your honor, but that actually sounds like a decent thing to do.”

I dump the coat off me because unlike Molly, I’m more than capable of irrational hatred. It has nothing to do with him. And I appreciate what he did for me, but I’m going to be mad at him anyway. He was mad at me, so there’s no reason for me to feel guilty either.

“It’s Burberry.” Xander smothers his face with it. “Gah, he smells so good. This is coming to bed with me tonight.”

“Great. My boyfriend’s fiancé smells good. I’m so glad.”

Xander pulls a face and dumps the coat to the side. “Did I say good? I mean bad. Sooo bad. Dude has a serious case of BO.”

I sigh because he really doesn’t. I’ve been surrounded by that scent for the last half an hour. Ian gets to be surrounded by that scent for the rest of his life. Stretched out in his bed, sheets bunched around his waist while he scrolls through his phone. Just relaxed in that expensive cologne … “I already miss him.”

I’m swamped in a group hug, like we used to do for Christian when he had his bad days. He’s been home for a month now and hasn’t needed a blanket burrito once, so apparently, getting married makes you an emotionally stable life form.

Unless you’re Ian—then it makes you an epic douchebag who hurts people’s hearts for no reason. I can see him and Hunter together, both of them so pretty and successful and stable. The way Hunter stared me down was unnervingly steady, like the only thing in his mind was me, and if Ian wants to be with someone like that, he can go nuts! Sounds boring, but okay.

“I bet they have pretty sex.”

“We’re not thinking about that,” Madden says, nudging the bottle back my way.

“I bet everyone has pretty sex. Except me,” Xander grumbles.

“What else am I supposed to think about?”

“What about your things?” Madden asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ll need to go get them. Do you feel up to that, or do you want one of us to go?”

I’m not following. “Get them …”

“Unless you’re planning on leaving them there?”

It takes an embarrassingly long time for it to sink in. I would need to pick up my stuff … because he’s not my boyfriend anymore. He probably never was. I can’t go over there and yell at him and try to sort it out because he has an actual partner who he’s committed to, and I was … just another person to have sex with.

I clear my throat, gaze planted firmly in my lap. “He doesn’t have anything of mine. He was always careful about that.”

Neat freak, my ass. There was no compulsion to keep everything in order; he just didn’t want Hunter to find anything of mine. All the traits and qualities and moments I thought we were really connecting … lies.

All lies.

It’s a battle in my head trying to sort them all out. Motivations are hard for me, and I’ve always been too trusting. If someone tells me something, I believe it. It’s who I am.

It’s exhausting to have my brain wired so differently from everyone else’s. They all speak this language I’m still trying to learn, but even after twenty-eight years, I’m not fluent. I forget to be careful. Forget to interpret.

I’d felt safe with him.

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