Mihai
MIHAI
W hen I get to Connor’s suite, I don’t even bother knocking; I just push the door open and step inside.
Connor is lounging on the couch, watching some old movie with a beer in one hand and a textbook lying open on his lap. His blond hair is tousled like he’s been running his hands through it, and he looks up as I walk in, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, if it isn’t the Crown Prince himself,” he teases, sitting up. “What’s got your boxers in a twist, ?”
I glare at him, but it’s more out of habit than real irritation. “I went to check on Madison.”
He sets his beer down and leans forward, interest sparking in his green eyes. “And?”
I take a deep breath, still trying to process everything from the past hour. “And… she was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack.”
Connor’s face falls, the teasing grin fading as concern replaces it. “Shit. Is she okay?”
“Yeah, I calmed her down,” I say, my voice quieter than usual. “But it wasn’t easy. She was… she was completely overwhelmed. It hit hard.”
I rub the back of my neck, feeling the tension building again just from remembering the way she was curled up, completely lost in her fear.
Connor watches me, his green eyes narrowed as he studies my expression. “This is more than just ‘checking on her,’ isn’t it? You look like someone slapped you across the face, .”
I glare at him, but he’s right, and we both know it.
“I just didn’t expect…” I trail off, the words sticking in my throat. I’m not used to being at a loss for words, but after seeing Madison like that, after seeing her—the version of her hidden under all the fear—I’m rattled. There’s no other way to put it.
Connor raises an eyebrow, clearly not about to let me off the hook. “Didn’t expect what?”
I sit down heavily on the armchair across from him, running a hand over my face. “I didn’t expect to see… her covered in fucking tattoos.”
He blanches, sitting up straight. “Madison has ink? Serious ink?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding, still trying to process it myself. “She’s got this deer across her chest, these intricate designs up and down her arms… hell, she’s even got this massive peacock on her thigh. The whole time, I was just… stunned as fuck.”
Connor whistles, crossing his arms. “Well, well. So she’s got a bit of a wild side. Did not see that coming. And clearly, neither did you,” he chuckles, leaning forward with a glint in his eye. “So she’s got you all frazzled. The big, bad , undone by some ink and a panic attack. Who would’ve thought?”
“Don’t push it, Connor,” I warn, though my tone lacks bite.
I’m too preoccupied with the image of Madison in that tank top, her shoulders bare, her tattoos on display. God, she’s fucking gorgeous.
Connor smirks, picking up his beer again and taking a long sip before he speaks. “Okay, okay. But it sounds like she’s got more layers than we thought. What’s the problem here, mate? She’s not a doll you can just put in a glass case. She’s real and she’s been through hell.”
“I know that,” I say, my voice rough. “But it threw me. And now, I’ve got her and Sofia to think about, and I don’t know how to balance all this. Now Cat gave her a phone?—”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s what’s got you worked up too? A phone?”
“No,” I snap, then soften my tone slightly as I rub the back of my neck again. “I mean, yes. Kind of. I didn’t think of it, Connor. I didn’t make sure she had any way to communicate. Cat did. And I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”
Connor shrugs, a small grin playing on his lips. “That’s because my baby sister’s an angel. She probably saw the lass struggling and wanted to help. You, on the other hand, are too busy tryin’ to be Mr. Responsible to notice the little things.”
I grunt, sitting down on the arm of a chair. “That’s not the point. I should’ve been the one to do it. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of her.”
Connor gives me a look, his grin fading. “, you can’t do everything, and besides, Cat didn’t overstep. She saw a problem and solved it. You should be grateful she did.” He leans back, folding his arms across his chest. “You’ve always been good at juggling, but sometimes you need to let other people help.”
I narrow my eyes at him—part glare, part curiosity. “What do you mean?”
He raises an eyebrow, then shrugs. “Like me, for example. I could spend some time with Madison—see if I can help her out.”
“No,” I say immediately, my voice sharp. “Absolutely not.”
Connor rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated. “Oh, come on. I’m a psych major, for fuck’s sake. I might actually be able to help her more than you can. You know… with the talkin’ thing. Or rather, the not talkin’ thing.”
I stare at him for a second, trying to gauge whether he’s serious or not. Of course, he’s serious—Connor may be a joker, but when it comes to his field, he knows what he’s doing.
Still, I can’t shake the protective instinct flaring up inside me. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” I snap. “She’s not just some project for you to poke around in.”
“And I won’t be treatin’ her like one,” Connor shoots back, his voice sharp. “I’m not a fucking amateur, . I know how to handle trauma. You think sitting in silence with her is gonna get her to talk? You’re keepin’ her alive, sure, but that doesn’t mean you’re helping her heal.”
I narrow my eyes, not entirely sure what to think. “I don’t know, Connor. I just know that she doesn’t need to be overwhelmed.”
He shakes his head, standing up from the couch and pacing slowly. “She’s already overwhelmed, if you think about it. She’s been shot at, her family’s dead, and she’s been thrown into our world without a damn choice. You think what I’m offerin’ is going to make that worse?”
I rub the back of my neck, trying to calm down. “She’s fragile right now.”
“And you’re not?” he snaps back, surprising me. “You’re stretched thin, mate. You’re trying to be the one who fixes everything.”
I clench my jaw, not wanting to admit that he’s right. I’m not equipped to deal with the psychological mess she’s carrying around. But the idea of Connor spending time with her, getting close to her… it doesn’t sit right with me.
And why the fuck not, ? God, I hate my mind.
Connor tilts his head, studying me for a moment. “So, what, you’re just gonna keep her locked up and hope she magically decides to start talking? That’s your plan?”
I glare at him, but he’s not backing down. “I’m trying to do what my father asked me to do. Keep her safe. Keep her alive.”
“And I’m offerin’ to help with the rest,” Connor says, his tone firm. “You don’t trust me to do that?”
I don’t answer right away. It’s not that I don’t trust Connor. Hell, he’s one of the few people I do trust. But this situation with Madison… It feels fragile. And I don’t know if I can handle someone else getting involved, even if that person is Connor.
My jaw clenches, and I stare at the floor. “I just don’t want to make things worse.”
Connor steps closer, his tone softening. “You’re not making anythin’ worse. But you’re not doin’ her any favors by keepin’ her in a bubble, either. She needs to know she’s not alone. I can help with that. I’m good at this.”
I look back up at him, weighing the options. Connor’s always been a talker, always been able to connect with people in ways I can’t. And he’s been studying psychology for years—perhaps he really can help Madison in ways I can’t.
“Fine,” I mutter, though I’m still not entirely comfortable with the idea of him being in her head. “You can spend time with her. But don’t push her. She’s not ready for that.”
Connor grins, his usual cockiness returning. “Hey, I’ll be the perfect gentleman. You won’t even recognize me.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m serious, Con. Don’t mess this up.”
He chuckles, grabbing his beer from the table and taking a swig. “Relax, I know how to handle people, remember? Madison’s in good hands.”
I sigh, standing up to leave. “I’m trusting you with this. Don’t give me a reason to regret it.”
Connor gives me a mock salute, his grin widening. “You got it, boss. I’ll be a saint.”
I watch him for a moment longer, still unsure about this whole thing but knowing I also don’t really have a choice. If Madison’s going to survive this, if we’re all going to survive this, then I need to let go of some of the control I’ve been clinging to.
But damn, if it doesn’t feel like letting go while dangling off the edge of a cliff.
Connor stretches his arms over his head. “Alright. I’ll go and see if I can catch her later. Maybe talk her into taking a walk or somethin’. Fresh air might do her some good.”
I nod, still not entirely comfortable with the idea of Connor being alone with her, but trying to let it go. “Just… keep me in the loop, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Connor says, waving me off. “I’m not tryin’ to steal your job, . I just want to help.”
I watch as he walks toward the door, pausing to grab his jacket. Before he leaves, he glances back at me, his expression more serious now. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing fine.”
With that, he’s gone, leaving me alone in the quiet of his suite.
I slump back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. I know Connor’s right. I know I can’t handle this alone. But letting someone else step in, especially with Madison… it feels like giving up the control I should have. And that’s not something I fucking enjoy.
Perhaps Connor’s right; he can help Madison in ways I can’t. But knowing that doesn’t quiet the feeling that I’ve got to keep an eye on her myself—that if anyone’s going to get through to her, it has to be me.
And that thought? That’s fucking dangerous.