18. Lilah
18
LILAH
I woke up the next morning feeling like myself for the first time since we’d gotten back from Greece. The jet lag seemed to have passed, and I felt alert and awake, my head clear.
I also felt horny for the first time since my rescue, and I wondered how long it would be before Nolan or Jude — or Nolan and Jude — found their way back to my bed or invited me to theirs. It felt like forever since the night on Folegandros when we’d gone to dinner, when we’d fucked by the pool while Rafe had watched.
My skin got heated at the thought of Rafe, the intensity of his gaze the night before when he’d stood in my doorway. I half regretted not throwing caution to the wind, pulling him into my room and letting nature take his course, but that was my body talking.
My brain — and my pride — were determined to stand firm. I was going to get an apology out of him one way or another.
I sighed with frustration and got out of bed. I pulled my new knife (it really was beautiful) out from under my pillow, slipped it into the pocket of my hoodie, and used the bathroom. Then I went downstairs to find the guys.
They were in the kitchen, glued to the news on the TV mounted to the wall. I caught a glimpse of the headline — something about the guy running for the Senate — in the moment before Jude spotted me.
“Morning, boss.”
Rafe’s head snapped in my direction and he reached for the remote and turned off the TV.
“Morning,” I said. “What was that? Why did you turn it off?”
Rafe made a grunting sound and stormed out of the room with his laptop.
I lifted my eyebrows. “Something I said?”
Nolan cut a glance at Jude, who shrugged.
“Sandoval’s running for senator,” Nolan said. “Want coffee?”
I blinked in surprise. “Yes, please. Sandoval Sandoval? Your Sandoval?”
Captain Sandoval had been their commanding office in the SEALs, a real dirtbag who’d murdered innocent civilians, then made false accusations against Nolan, Jude, and Rafe when they’d filed a complaint.
It had led to the Bastards’ dishonorable discharge, which was total bullshit.
“We don’t claim him, sweetheart, but yeah,” Nolan said, moving toward the coffee machine, “that’s the one.”
“That must be weird,” I said, sitting next to Jude at the island.
“It’s not great,” Jude said.
“Won’t all the stuff that happened in the military come up?” I asked. “I mean, don’t they do a ton of background on the people who run for office?”
“It’s come up,” Nolan said, sliding a mug with steaming coffee toward me.
“And?” I took a sip of the coffee. “Thank you.”
Nolan nodded.
“It’s all too vague for anyone to care,” Jude said. “The media uses phrases like ‘controversial allegations by former soldiers.'”
I frowned. “Sounds like bullshit.”
“It is,” Nolan said.
I bit my lip. “Can you speak out about him? Should you?”
I felt like I was taking a step into quicksand. I didn’t know the rules — unspoken or otherwise — about a situation like this.
“It wouldn’t do any good,” Jude said. “And there are risks.”
“Why wouldn’t it do any good?” I asked.
“You don’t want to know about the risks?” Jude asked, one corner of his mouth turning up in a wry smile.
“I mean, yeah, but the risks are secondary right? Isn’t the most important thing stopping a guy like Sandoval from getting his hands on more power?”
“Fair,” Jude said. “But it wouldn’t matter because we’re damaged goods.”
“Because of your dishonorable discharge?”
Jude nodded.
“The narrative would be ‘soldiers dishonorably discharged make unproven allegations against decorated captain,’” Nolan said. “We’d be dismissed as flunkies with an ax to grind.”
“And even worse, it would bring the nut jobs out of the woodwork,” Jude added.
I could see it: the news reports, the Bastards’ faces plastered on screens all over the country, the rehashing of their discharge and the fake allegations made against them, the online trolls with nothing better to do than gossip about people they didn’t know.
It would be rough for anyone but there would be additional fallout for Nolan, Jude, and Rafe, whose work depended on living under the radar.
“That’s so messed up.” I thought about Rafe, the expression of fury on his face when he’d stalked from the room. “Will Rafe be okay?”
“As okay as he ever is,” Nolan said.
I took another drink of my coffee, trying to analyze the heavy feeling in my chest. Was I… feeling sorry for Rafe Maddox?
Ugh.
I looked at Nolan. “Did Gage say how long it would be until he has word on the hard drive?”
Other than my interaction with Rafe about the knife, we’d more or less gone our separate ways after they’d gotten back from the beach, and after the awkward dinner at Jude’s parents’ house, I’d been relieved to have the space.
It was one of the things I liked about living with the Bastards. They were always there, but they weren’t on top of me all the time. I was used to having space and there were still times when I wanted to be alone. I liked that I never had to explain that, and I’d been surprised how easily we’d slipped into a comfortable routine, the way they let me be when I retreated to my room.
Nolan shook his head. “He never does. Depends on a lot of different things, and judging from the security on the Artemis , I’m guessing whatever’s on the hard drive is pretty secure.”
“Damn,” I said.
No one wanted to say it out loud, but in spite of what had happened in Greece, we were stuck. I’d gotten the invitation code from Imperium Fratrum, had been on one of their boats ( the other boat will be here soon ), had been surrounded by their guards, and we still didn’t know much more about them now than when we’d gone to Folegandros.
Jude leaned in to kiss me. “We’ll figure it out, boss.”
I was surprised by how natural it felt. I cut a glance at Nolan, wondering if he felt some kind of way about the fact that Jude was acting like my boyfriend, but Nolan was moving around the kitchen like it was all the most normal thing in the world.
Then again, I had fucked them both in Greece, so I guess a kiss wasn’t exactly scandalous.
“I’d offer you breakfast, but the fridge is empty,” Nolan said. “Carter’s away. Want to go to the store with me? We can stop for coffee and pastries on the way home.”
“You had me at pastries.” I looked at Jude. “You’re not coming?”
“Afraid not. I have some things to do for the business. But get me a chocolate croissant, will you? I’ll thank you later.”
His wicked grin caused heat to flare between my thighs, a promise in his words I was more than ready to redeem.