Chapter Three
London
“Carlisle, I’m—"
“Don’t.”
It’s been two hours since Carlisle returned to the club.
I’ve been alone with my thoughts too long, and I can’t take it anymore.
Olivia is still dancing with the nameless stranger, and I have no idea how she’s managed to stay so cool and calm.
I can’t stop thinking about Mason’s reaction when he finds out I was a part of all this.
A part of me wants to go back in time and walk it all back.
Another part of me is tempted to find Mason and come clean.
I’m not sure I can do either of those things without making everything worse.
Carlisle is scanning the club intently, his face giving nothing away. “I don’t need your apologies, princess. Just don’t give me any more problems.”
His words sting, but I can’t blame him.
Carlisle, like many others, has every reason to hate me.
Before me, Mason was solid and reliable, and while he occasionally liked to shake things up for the hell of it, he was focused and knew what needed to be done.
I had made all their lives harder, and I can’t blame Carlisle for the hate.
How can I when I’d feel the same if the roles were reversed?
Everyone’s lives had been turned upside-down because Mason and I couldn’t stay away from each other, and now the only way out was through.
I know it, and so does everyone else, but it doesn’t make things easier.
“I wasn’t going to apologize. I just—"
“I’m doing this because I think we have a chance,” Carlisle interrupts. “Let me make one thing clear, though. You and I are not friends. We are not allies. I do not have a blind spot where you are concerned, so whatever you’re doing to Katia and the Paynes, it doesn’t concern me.”
I jerk back and clear my throat. “I’m not doing anything to them.”
“Even if you are.” Carlisle pauses to look at me, and the look he gives me makes my blood run cold. “It’s not my concern. My job is to keep everyone safe, even with all the fuckups.”
I nod.
Carlisle’s eyes tighten slightly. “It’s nothing personal, but I do think all our lives would be easier if you weren’t around.”
“I know.”
It’s not like I haven’t had the same thought, but whatever Mason and I have between us, it’s not something I can give up on.
Carlisle glances away again. “We’ll be able to head back soon.”
My heart misses a beat as the music is turned down, and a loud clamor of voices rises.
Ice settles in my veins when I hear a loud siren sound.
Carlisle says something in a low voice, but I can’t hear him over the pounding in my ears.
Then we’re moving, with Carlisle’s hand on my shoulder to steer me, and the ringing in my head grows louder.
We push our way through the crowd, and I struggle to find Olivia in the sea of faces.
My stomach lurches when someone bumps into me, and I realize Carlisle is now holding his gun.
Over his shoulder, I spot some men racing in the opposite direction.
“What’s going on?”
“Something is going on at the manor. I’m taking you to a safe room.”
“We have to get to Mason.”
Hiding out in the underground sex club Mason operates isn’t going to help anyone.
Carlisle’s fingers close around my wrist, and he drags me forward. “I don’t have time for this. You’re going to the room, and I’ll head back to the manor to help. It’s not a suggestion.”
I struggle against his grasp, but he doesn’t budge.
Miss Deveroux, who is in charge of making sure things run smoothly at Mercy, is waiting for us in the hallway, her eyebrows pinched together.
Carlisle pushes me toward her and takes out his gun. “You still have that gun handy?”
Miss Deveroux nods and reaches for me. “You know I do.”
“Do whatever it takes to keep her safe,” Carlisle says without looking at me. “I’ll be back when I can.”
He moves away without waiting for a response, and I watch him get swallowed whole by the crowd. When he’s far enough away, I turn to Miss Deveroux and wipe my hands on the back of my jeans. She’s not looking at me as she peels off her leather jacket and hands it to me.
I shove my arms through. “How much trouble are we in?”
Miss Deveroux motions to me, and I follow her into the dimly lit hallway.
I follow Miss Deveroux, my heart pounding loud enough to drown out everything else. She takes my hand and leads me through the hallways until we reach an empty room with a digital lock on the door.
She punches in a code. “They’re still sweeping the perimeter. Word is the Paynes are out for blood because they can’t figure out how it happened twice.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Miss Deveroux grunts, and the door hisses open, revealing a spacious room with a king-sized bed, a couch, and a smaller door that leads to a bathroom. “It’s obvious that there’s someone on the inside helping their enemies. I guess the real question is why they haven’t figured out who it is.”
I follow Miss Deveroux into the room, each step feeling like lead. “There’s been another attack?”
Shit.
Mason must be livid.
“If you ask me, being on lockdown isn’t enough,” Miss Deveroux continues as if she hasn’t heard me. “But it’s not up to me. I just do what they tell me.”
“Where’s Olivia?”
“In another safe room,” Miss Deveroux replies. “You shouldn’t be arguing with Carlisle at a time like this.”
I exhale. “I know. I was just trying to—”
Miss Deveroux turns to face me and holds up a hand. “I’m sure you mean well, but there’s a lot going on that you can’t possibly understand.”
Her expression softens as she pulls the door shut behind us, plunging us into silence. “I don’t know how Olivia managed to convince you to get involved, but you need to be smarter, and you need to be careful.”
I clear my throat. “You’re probably right.”
I shouldn’t have let Olivia get inside my head, but whatever damage I’ve done, it’s too late. I can’t walk it back.
And I can’t regret it.
“But I can’t sit around twiddling my thumbs and watching the people I love in danger,” I add. “You’d be trying to figure out a way to help, too, if it were you.”
Miss Deveroux shrugs. “Maybe, but I’d give it a lot more thought.”
I let my arms fall to my sides. “How do you know I haven’t? I’m not as na?ve or as stupid as people think I am.”
I’m tired of people brushing me off as a nuisance.
“I never said you were.” Miss Deveroux shakes her head. “But it’s only been a few months. Think about how different your life was before this. Nothing could’ve prepared you for this.”
She’s right.
What was I thinking?
Miss Deveroux covers the distance between us and reaches for my hands. She gives them a small squeeze, and when I look into her eyes and see the fatigue and concern, a wave of shame washes over me.
“I’m sorry you keep getting dragged into these things.”
“I knew what I signed up for,” she replies.
I search her face. “You didn’t sign up for me, though.”
Miss Deveroux’s lips lift into a half smile. “Maybe not, but I’d like to think of us as friends.”
“I’d like to think so, too.”
She moves away and sinks onto the nearest chair. A few moments later, I lower myself into the seat opposite her. She drapes her arms over the back of her chair and opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, I stand up and stumble to the bathroom.
I barely make it to the toilet before I sink to my knees and gag.
My eyes water and my throat burns as I feel Miss Deveroux’s hand on my back.
She lifts the hair off the nape of my neck as I empty the contents of my breakfast and sputter.
Then, she helps me to my feet and stands behind me as I lean over the sink, cup my hands together, and splash cold water on my face.
Miss Deveroux leaves the bathroom and returns with a glass of water. She hands it to me, and I down it in one gulp. With a raised eyebrow, she leads me back into the room and hands me another glass. I curl my fingers around it, and my knees give out.
“Too much excitement for you, huh?”
I offer her a weak smile. “I guess I need to have a stronger stomach.”
“As long as you aren’t pregnant.”
I glance up sharply as a sliver of unease races through me.
My mind races as I do the math, feeling worse with each passing second.
Mason and I haven’t been as careful as we should have been, but I’d been so caught up in everything, I told myself it didn’t matter.
I can’t be pregnant.
With shaky hands, I set down the glass and push myself to my feet. I drift over to the window, forgetting that we’re underground. When I push back the curtain to reveal a brick wall, I almost want to scream. Miss Deveroux places her hand on my back, and I bow my head.
A short while later, Carlisle’s voice breaks the silence.
The door opens, and I throw my arms around Miss Deveroux. “What am I going to do?”
“You need to be sure first,” she says. “Don’t tell anyone yet.”
My mouth tastes like ash as I pull away.
In a daze, I follow Carlisle down another series of turns until we reach the back door again. The afternoon light is almost blinding as I stumble out and nearly lose my footing. Carlisle helps me right myself with his free hand hovering over his gun.
“The siren and everything when we were coming back from the diner was a drill,” Carlisle tells me as we approach the estate and its tall, imposing gates. “They want to be prepared for everything.”
A surge of relief courses through me. “Good.”
Carlisle matches my pace as we climb the front stairs, where Olivia is waiting. Her eyes move over me, but she doesn’t say anything. Together, we step into the estate, and I barely hear anything as we climb the stairs, and she pauses in front of Mason’s wing to squeeze my hand.
After Olivia leaves, I hurry into the room and slam the door shut behind me.
In the bathroom, I grip the sink and take several deep breaths.
Slowly, I lift my gaze and stare at myself in the mirror, at the unfamiliar dark circles.
In a daze, I touch two fingers to the glass, and my breath hitches in my throat.
My hand drifts to my stomach.
I leave it there as my mind whirs.
Miss Deveroux is wrong; she has to be.
But the longer I stand there, replaying the past few days in my head, the worse I feel.