CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ava
A res politely turns down dinner, even though I hear my other brothers’ stomachs growling. They all leave and moments later, a doctor arrives to give me a quick examination.
Sitting in the living room with Griffin hovering over me, this doctor takes my vitals and checks my temperature. Since I’m not in any severe pain, just suffering from a small bout of dehydration, the doctor advises fluids and rest.
The doctor’s final question before he leaves quiets the room. “Are you on any kind of birth control? A shot, or an IUD?”
Griffin’s jaw tightens.
“No. Nothing. I wasn’t...sexually active.” I sneak a look at Griffin whose stare is so intense it can cut glass.
“I suggest you make an appointment with a primary health provider for a full physical.”
“Will do, doc,” I say with a salute.
“Dr. O’Rourke,” he says proudly, shaking my hand.
“Thanks, Cormac,” Griffin says and escorts him back to the foyer.
I amble that way until I’m faced with Griffin and his brothers plus one cousin staring at me by the front door. A courier brought several suitcases an hour ago. Jon and Bridget took my bags up a set of stairs, but I haven’t seen anything beyond the first floor and the sunroom.
I’ve decided that will be my favorite spot to unwind.
Bridget serves a tasty dinner, and as much as I want to devour the scrumptious-looking pot roast, my anxious and shrunken stomach won’t allow more than a few bites.
Griffin and his brothers talk as if I’m not there. But not in a rude way. They’re very open with their plans to deal with Brandon’s death and those who are still loyal to him. All over a bottle of whiskey they pass around. Even to me, but I refuse.
When the plates are cleared away, Griffin stands up. “Why don’t you brats go home? I need to be alone with Ava.”
I shiver at how he says alone .
We all get up from the table and the brats stare at me, especially Connor who is the one I need to watch out for. He seems more unhinged than his brothers. From the drive here, I gathered Shane is a cyber guy, a hacker, but not a nerd. At all. He’s tall with that rugby-player bulk.
Connor is lean, but that sweater he’s wearing got a workout from his pecs and biceps. He’s the guy who will snap someone’s neck.
Rhys... I’m not so sure about, only that he served in the Irish military and did private security work like his brother who I’ve not met yet. From the flow of the conversation, Rhys is some kind of expert marksman.
Connor struts up to me and the part of me still damaged wants to shrink back. But these guys are like bears, I can’t run away or show fear. “If you kill my brother, we’ll find you, kill you, your aunt, and your brothers. We have no problem going back to Astoria and—”
“Speak for yourself, brat,” Griffin interrupts and nudges his brother away from me. “She’s not going to kill me. Right?”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Rhys says, folding his arms.
When I try to answer, Griffin puts tattooed fingers against my lips. Damn, that’s sexy. “I’d like to give my fiancée a full tour of our home.”
Our...
I swallow a lump at that one.
Right, this whole ruse is to quash rumors. He possibly doesn’t trust Jon and Bridget, who might need a few grand extra a month from skeptics in the neighborhood asking about us.
We have to make this look real.
The brothers and Rhys leave, and when the front door clicks shut, Griffin leans against the back of it, staring at me.
Soft voices from behind me turn me around. Jon and Bridget have jackets on and walk toward the foyer as well.
“Don’t forget your grocery list, Ma’am,” Bridget says sweetly like she didn’t hear Connor threaten to kill me two seconds ago.
What’s with the ma’am? I’m twenty-seven. “Will do,” I say to return the politeness, though.
“Night, sir,” Jon says, and a guard in a suit opens the door for them.
When the house managers leave, I step behind Griffin. “Is that your guard?”
“One of them.” He smiles. “I have two personal guards and a larger team of men who rotate outside. Front and back. They’ll stay in that watchroom during the day when we’re home.” He points to a small hallway that leads to a sitting room with a kitchenette.
“Like a wardroom,” I say, remembering the naval term for a place to meet and rest.
“I like that better,” Griffin says, admiring me.
“Yay me! I contributed.” I’d like to celebrate this little victory, but five months of captivity has winded me after a few hours on my feet.
“You’re safe here, Ava,” Griffin says, stalking up to me.
“You called this place ours.”
“You’re living here.” He shoves those big hands into the jeans he changed into before dinner.
When I look closer, I see they’re Levis. I expected that he’d go for a more expensive brand. Compared to my posh and well-dressed brothers, Griffin and his bros look rugged but sophisticated.
On the outside we’re different. Opposites.
But on the inside, I’m starting to think Griffin and I are exactly the same.
Ares tried to dress me up like a doll in the few months I was home. I never felt comfortable with the expensive look he forced on me. I went from a private school uniform and denim shorts in the summers to military fatigues. For the last five months, I’ve worn rags.
I’m not ready for a ball gown.
“Your hair is different,” Griffin comments.
I touch it on reflex. “Alexander had it dyed before he dropped me off at the Navy recruiter. I can dye it back if that’s what—”
He grips the ponytail I made and stares down at me. “It’s your eyes. I never forgot these big, brown shiny eyes. I knew it was you in one beat of my heart. Do whatever you want to your hair. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Hair won’t change that.”
Gasping, I grip his hand and lay an arm-twisting technique meant to flip him and put him on his back. Only, he’s too strong. Or, I’m too weak.
“Ouch,” I mutter.
“If you want me on my back, woman, just say so.” He lets me go.
I glance around. “Your house people left. Do we really have to sleep in the same room?”
“No.”
“Good.” I relax.
“But I don’t trust you. You’re sleeping right next to me, and I’m locking you in.” He grips my face. “Kill me. You won’t get out of that room.”
“I see no need to kill you.” I let out a shaky breath, the fight draining from my soul. “It’s clear that... Never mind. Can I see the rest of the house?”
“It’s clear your brother Ares doesn’t want you.” Griffin stands over me.
“My aunt is under his thumb, too,” I acknowledge bitterly.
“Is she important to you?”
“My mother left us when I was young. Aunt Lena stepped up. So yeah.”
“I’ll take you to see her tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I squeak, surprised. “Aren’t you busy running your empire?”
“Not too busy for my fiancée.” He steers me toward the stairs. “The tour you wanted.”
The living room is double height with floor-to-ceiling leaded panes of glass that line the entire rear facade of the townhouse.
Up one flight of stairs, Griffin points. “Bridget said this is the ‘parlor’ level. There’s a library and reading room my aunt used. There’s a television in there, too. Feel free to use both.”
“I liked the sunroom. And the yard seems nice.”
Griffin stops in his tracks and peers at me. “Try to climb the fence and you’ll be shot by my guards. They’re trained to act first and think second.”
I laugh, thinking he’s kidding. “And go where?”
My brother would bring me right back here.
“I’ll try to make life here bearable,” he whispers in my ear. “And I’m open to suggestions on how to pass the time.”
“In between all the shopping I need to do,” I mutter, unable to flirt right now.
We climb another set of stairs, and I get the reason for all the levels. The need for the height. Each bedroom is on its own floor. It’s Manhattan and nothing is sprawling.
“There are four guest bedrooms, each with an en suite bathroom,” Griffin says, climbing.
“And I can’t sleep in one of them?” I step into one with a fireplace. “This will do.”
“Sorry. I’ll make a lot of concessions. This isn’t one of them.”
Baby steps, Ava. You’ve been here before.
All those men in BUD/S training hated me and the other females like Cherise. Thought we should be serving them dinners at night and fucking them after a long day of hard work. But I dug and dug until I proved myself to them, even if I failed out. Most do. This is no different.
I glance up the next set of stairs. “Master bedroom?”
“Primary bedroom. It’s called primary now.” Griffin leads me that way.
It doesn’t hit me until we’re on this floor that it’s more of an apartment up here. There’s a sitting room with a large plush sofa, a fireplace, and a television. There’s a small kitchenette with a coffee maker, sink, and refrigerator. The bathroom takes up at least the space of one of the bedrooms below.
There’s a massive step-in enclosed shower with glittering glass tiles and a jacuzzi tub in the corner. A long marble vanity with two sinks stretches out across one wall, and there’s a separate room for the toilet.
“Does this work for you?” Griffin asks over my shoulder. “Want to see the closets?”
“Plural?” I spin around.
“There’s two, his and hers.” He walks past the bathroom and opens a door.
The suitcases brought over by the courier sit in there. I take in all the shelving. There’s one wall for shoes and two half-walls with drawers. In the center, a makeup counter looks bare, and I don’t think I can change that. The rest are bars for hanging clothes.
“I know what I’m doing tomorrow.” I run my finger across the designer luggage I can give two shits about. “Putting all this away.”
“Bridget will help you.”
“I can do it.”
“Look up.” Griffin pulls on my ponytail again.
“A skylight. Cool. Is it locked?”
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” He pulls harder, laughing.
I’m wondering if I have the strength to stand on the makeup counter and jump to break the glass. I busted plenty of glass as a RAVEN. Hence all the scars on my body.
He’s right, I can’t help myself. I spent weeks figuring out how to get out of that cage. With all the technology I can work around or use my brute strength to kick in doors, those steel bars brought me to my knees.
“You said something about making concessions,” I say to Griffin.
“Here we go.” He steers me out of the closet and into the main part of the bedroom itself where he sits me on a long wooden bench in front of a king-size bed.
“I had a routine. A workout routine. A training routine,” I argue.
“What were you training for?” He leans against a dresser on the opposite wall and crosses one ankle over the other. “Other than to kill me.”
“To stay in shape, smart-ass.”
“I’ll get you a gym membership. Your guard will go with you.”
I bite my lip. “Can I pick out the gym?”
“Of course.”
“You really won’t let me sleep in one of those other bedrooms?”
“No,” he growls and points. “That bed is absurdly big. It’s a California King. You’ll have plenty of room.”
I yawn. “I’m too tired tonight to strangle you anyway.”
“Good to know.” He peers down at me. “I have an offer for you.”
I gasp. “No lead-up, huh? What’s your offer?”
“One year.”
I blink up at him. “One year for what?”
“I’ll let you go after one year.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. “You’ll divorce me?”
“I’ll let you divorce me.”
Ares will kill him if it’s the other way around, I get it. Although, I’m not sure I’m too far ahead of Griffin when it comes to Ares’ good graces.
“Why?” I ask, curious.
“Because I don’t want a wife. Not like this. I agreed because it was the only way to take over House Keller. That’s what I wanted.”
Not me. But he didn’t know me. Or rather, didn’t know I was the woman who gave him a great night.
“Six months,” I counter to him.
“Done.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Just can’t help yourself.”
“Just you wait.”