17. Wolfe Wallpaper Flowers #2
“You’ve been looking at your phone a lot this morning,” Lyla mentioned from the shadows, the naked silhouette creating a bigger void in me than I wanted. I shook off the memory and drew in a breath.
“Thanks for that observation,” I exhaled through my nose.
There was a hit on this woman, and our severed fingerprint would not hold for much longer.
Not that it mattered. I suspected Karsten was in on the fact that we held the contract after he told me one of our own took that picture of Daphne and sent it to him.
Maybe. It could also be a ploy to turn me against my men, which worked.
Rinley was as good as dead once I got proof it was him.
“Why don’t you come back to bed?” she said, leaning away so I could see her tits. They were smaller than Daphne’s, pert, and didn’t possess that bounce I craved. In fact, Lyla brought nothing I wanted, which is precisely why I chose her.
“No,” I smiled, staring at my phone, before tapping out words to Daph: I need to talk to you!
“You miss her, don’t you?” she questioned, placing her back against the purple flower Daphne had etched into the wallpaper. She hated the pattern and often tried to peel it off whenever I wasn’t looking. It hung over Lyla’s head.
“What are you talking about?”
“Daphne and your sudden obsession with your phone.”
“Don’t,” I growled. “Keep her name out of your goddamn mouth. She is none of your business.”
“Well,” she bit the bottom of her lip. “I would love to, but Threx spent an hour this morning breaking half the cabinets in the kitchen until Jessie stepped in to stop him. I guess no one knows how to put the dishes away, and that somehow makes me less of a queen.”
“Lyla, your role here is to manage the women and the state of the clubhouse, not my men. I know it’s patriarchal bullshit, but I gave you the job description before you accepted, and you chose this,” I said, throwing on a black shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
“Also, I would advise you to keep your mouth shut about Daphne around Threx until she returns. Maybe even after. You are not just playing with fire when it comes to him. You’re igniting the damn apocalypse. ”
“Yeah,” she dismissed the warning. “But isn’t Daphne a woman?” she took a drag from the cigarette now perched between her fingers. “In my clubhouse? Per the job description.”
I stared at her for a moment, blinking through the low light to get a better look at her face. Was that a threat? Lyla drew a breath but didn’t flinch, even when the world became quiet.
Shit.
“You worked the night of the naked party, right?” I cocked my head to the side, walking to my desk and tossing open a drawer.
“Yes. I always work your parties,” Lyla huffed. “Why?”
I rummaged around for the nine-millimeter I kept loaded, drumming my fingers along its spine.
“Did you see me there?” I asked, staring at the doorway, then back at her.
Daphne: I think Lyla might be in danger
“You mean before we left together?” she paused, and I nodded, throwing a look at my bedroom door. So that is why Daphne was not responding; she was talking to Threx. “Yes. You were everywhere that night. Why?” she asked again, pressing the nicotine between her lips.
“No reason. I just remembered something,” I bit the side of my cheek and pivoted, stalking toward the bed in a determined stride.
My eyes raked over her usual glass of water, chewing gum, and pack of smokes… before I found her cell.
“What are you doing?” She questioned when I buried it in my pocket.
“Nothing,” I flashed a grin, lunging for the door and swinging it open. “Routine checks.”
“I need my phone, Wolfe,” she called after me, but I ignored her. Threx was already halfway down the stairs, palming a weapon that sat heavy in his hoodie. I met his eyes in a wordless conversation.
He had been acting off since the night of the club party, and while I understood most of it had to do with the departure of his very fucking soul, I still could not make out why he suddenly became fidgety.
Threx was never the type to run his zipper up and down, click a pen, or fiddle with a damn fortune cookie that he kept with him at all times.
There was an underlying anxiety that did not point to our favorite person, at least not in the way I was used to.
Daphne: WOLFE!
“She is all capsing now,” I said, throwing the phone at Threx and shutting the door behind me. He caught it with one hand and eyed the text.
“Did she do it? And don’t fucking lie to me,” he asked, and I sighed. I had already put a hit out on Lyla. Why would he assume I’d protect her?
“Probably,” I admitted. “But I’ll have Jessie check for deletions and anything that may have been sent the night of the party or the morning after. It still could be Rinley.”
“If that is what you think, then why are you carrying?” He eyed the gun I did not realize I was holding while images of Daphne’s wallpaper flowers unfolded at the corners of my mind.
“You understand that if your queen turned on us, it’s not only going to be very messy but also break club loyalty across all tiers. No one will trust you after this.”
A familiar ache bubbled into my throat, and I struggled not to laugh. It was the same feeling I got whenever I stared too long into a flame, wanting the burn on my skin.
“Not if they don’t know.” I yawned, punching a response to Daphne. “It would be in her best interest if they didn’t.”
“You mean in your best interest.”
“If Daph comes home in the middle of a civil war, forget Karsten… Rinley and the rest of the low-tier fucks will want someone to take this shit out on. Whatever we find about Lyla stays between you and me. Okay?” I arched a brow at him until he nodded.
“Until then, keep the hit alive and continue to check in with the club’s favorite severed finger. ”
“Blade keeps that shit by my waffles,” Threx groaned, sweeping past me toward the kitchen.
“Hey,” I called after him, and he turned. “You okay?”
Threx’s teeth sharpened beneath the curl of his lips before growling at me over his shoulder. “What do you think?”
I think I had four days until this man lost his shit, and absolutely nothing in place to bring him back.
“Is Daphne?” That question stopped him; the vein in his throat popping with agitation.
“You know what is funny?” Threx said, attempting to take a breath.
“The way she thinks you are in control. Texting you after I hung up on her as if you have some fucking power over me. But you and I both know, Wolfey, that you don’t.
Why do you think Karsten told us about the picture?
Was it so you would react?” His eyes locked onto the door. “Or me?”
“If you have something to say, Threx, just fucking say it. I have too much to deal with to play your head games.”
“It’s not a head game, Wolfe. It is math.
You convinced Daphne you loved her and then hurt her when you did not tell her about Lyla, and she showed up in her goddamn shirt.
You fucked her in public after a bad job and exposed her to our enemies.
You severely underestimated your new queen’s jealousy, which may have landed a target on her life, and now you’re asking me how she is?
I don’t know, Wolfe, how the fuck are you doing? ”
I couldn’t argue his logic because everything he said was true, the way medicine has side effects, or how the price of one thing always comes at the cost of another.
A bitter, somewhat small part of me wanted to point out that none of this might have happened had he not chosen to get blown by five women that night, or I don’t know, maybe loved her instead of pushing her into my arms. However, I was reasonably sure he would shoot me in the face if I pointed that out.
Fuck it. He did not get to pin all this on me.
“She came to that party for you, Threx. She always comes for you, and let’s for just one fucking second remember that this is not all my fault. Because all of this is a side effect of what it means to be in my world, but with you, it is a consequence! And you fucking know it.”
There was a pause where nothing else existed.
“Daphne is in danger because I love her too much, but she was put there because you did not fucking love her enough.”
I knew it wasn’t true. Not entirely. There was not a soul alive who ever loved anyone the way he loved her, but keeping her close without claiming that last inch was a notch on the noose that had always hung around her neck.
One that I allowed because I did not want him to take parts of her from me.
Threx’s eyes sputtered into that silvery madness that plagued his very existence.
“I know,” he ground out, inching forward, ready to strike. “But not anymore.”
What did that mean? That he would finally claim her.
A hard clot of air shoved its way down my throat.
“We fucked this up, so we are going to fix it.” I found his eyes. “Together, Threx. She needs us both.”
“Yes,” he relaxed his shoulders. “Which is why you’re still breathing. But understand this: I will do anything to keep Daphne safe. Anything, Wolfe! Even from you.”
Even. From. Me.
I exhaled through my nose, lifting my eyes to meet Threx’s words with a slow nod, “I’m fucking counting on it.”