Page 157 of Wicked Minds
I’ve seen a difference in him these last few weeks. It’s small, barely noticeable if you don’t know the guy, but I see it. There’s a lighter air around him, a brightness in his eyes that I haven’t seen in months. I’ve even caught the dude smiling. Fuckingsmiling!It’s small. Looks more like a grimace. But it’s fucking there!
I snap a picture of the woman herself curled up beside me in bed and send it to him, attached with the wordslike a baby.
It’s sweet how he worries about her. It’s not a side of Royce I’ve ever seen before. Sure, he loves me and Gray, and we have one another’s backs, but we also know we can hold our own, too. It’s different with Riley.Heis different with Riley.
Setting my phone back on the nightstand, I snuggle deeper in the bed, the smell of vanilla swirling around and lulling me toward dreamland.
“Shewhat?!” I bellow, gaping at Royce in horror. It is way too fucking early for this shit! “She can’t do that, can she? No, there’s no fucking way she can do that. She’s not even her fucking mother. What right does she have to give up—no, not give up, fuckingsella child that isn’t hers.”
God, I am angry. Beyond angry. I am fucking furious. I have half a goddamn mind to drive to that bitch’s house and wring her entitled fucking neck. Thinks she can sell my girl’s daughter and get away with it. I’m going to bury her six feet under.
“Logan, calm down.” Grayson sighs wearily.
I spin to glare at him where he’s sitting in a chair in our living room. How can he be sitting right now? I can’t even stand still. “Calm down?” The words come out in a near shriek. “Don’t fucking tell me tocalm down,Grayson.” I fling a hand in Royce’s direction. “Did you even listen to what he just said? Or is your head so far up your asshole that you’re living off your own bullshit? This is so fucking far beyond you being pissed about something she didn’t even fucking do. Get over yourself, you shithead. This is herdaughter.Her fucking daughter.Yourhalf-sister. Doesn’t that mean anything?—”
I’m shoved into the living room wall, Grayson’s hands fisted in the front of my shirt as he glares murderously into my eyes. “Of course, I give a fucking shit. I might be struggling with all of this, but despite what you may think, I don’t want to see Riley or her child hurt. Not like that.”
Teeth gritted, I huff out a breath before shoving him off me. “Then what the fuck are we going to do about it, then?”
I glance between him and Royce. Surely they’ve had more than enough time to figure out what the fuck we’re going to do to get Aurora away from that conniving, selfish bitch.
“Xander’s reaching out to a contact of his,” Royce informs me as if that means anything at all. “For now, we play along with her game. Make her think I’m doing what she wants.”
“Right, and what happens when she figures out you’re not who you’re pretending to be? There’s only so long you can pretend to have some seedy connection with the black fucking market before it blows up in your face.”
The pulsing of the blood vessels in his jaw is the only sign of Royce’s irritation as he stares blankly at me. Waiting for me to cool my jets. Newsflash: I won’t be calming down any time soon!
“She needs this to be a quick process. All I have to do is pretend to find her a buyer, get her to bring Aurora to a meeting with them, and then we take the kid.”
Oh well, if that’s all…
All I can do is blink stupidly at him because there aresomany holes in that plan that I don’t even know where to begin.
“Why does she need this to be a quick process?” I bite out instead.
Royce’s lips purse. “My guess? Bertram’s release.”
“You think she’s after money to start over with Bertram?” I ask, throwing out the first half-logical explanation that came to mind.
Royce shrugs. “Maybe.”
“You think she and my dad are still a thing?” Grayson queries, lifting his head from his hands to look at Royce.
“That, or she’s hoping they will be when he gets released, maybe. I dunno, I’m guessing, but what other reason could she have for choosing now?”
I absently nod my head in agreement. Truthfully, I don’t give a single flying fuck about the why.
“Are they still married?” Royce asks Grayson.
“Haven’t a fucking clue,” he grunts. “I had assumed they weren’t, though I actually don’t know.”
Stopping my pacing, I collapse into an empty chair. “Riley mentioned that they were divorced,” I tell them, still not really caring. I want to get back to this sieve of a plan so we can brainstorm how to block some of the holes and not fuck it up.
“But does she actually know that, or is she just assuming, like I am?” Gray asks.
I give him anI don’t give a fuckshrug.Really, why does it matter when we have bigger things to worry about?“You’d have to ask her.”
“We’re not,” Royce states firmly, an edge to his voice that has me fully focusing back on the conversation.
