Chapter 13 Shep
SHEP
“YOU KNOW WHAT pisses me off the most?” Theo said as he stormed out of the private elevator that led into my loft.
I’d known this moment was coming, that he’d eventually erupt. He’d been fuming the entire way home, festering in his anger, disappointment, and complete shock at what we’d uncovered back at the storage unit.
“I could take a guess—”
“It was him,” he shouted. “This entire fucking fiasco is all because of him.”
Him, of course, being King. Something I was still trying to wrap my brain around.
“All this time, all those accusations and doubts about my loyalty, was because he fucked up way back when.”
Theo stormed through the wide living room and over to the bar cart by the wall of windows.
“And not only did he dare to question my loyalty, he had all of you questioning it too.” He pulled the top off the whiskey decanter and flipped over a glass.
“‘Sure looks like you on the video, Theo,’” he said, mimicking King’s baritone.
“‘Why did you take out your tracker if you’ve got nothing to hide? I’m going to send Shep to make sure you behave yourself. ’”
He poured several fingers of amber liquid into the tumbler. “Well… Fuck. You.”
To say Theo was angry, might just be the understatement of the century.
In fact, I couldn’t remember ever seeing him so worked up.
Usually the most rebellious and outrageous of my brothers, Theo wasn’t the type to spiral.
But as he threw back the full glass of alcohol and reached for the decanter for a refill, I let him at it.
He’d been through it over the last month or so, and if anyone deserved to get blind drunk, it was him. But hopefully the food I’d ordered would get here before that happened. The last thing he probably wanted to do with sore ribs was spend the night hugging the porcelain throne.
“In all fairness, if he hadn’t sent me to watch over you, we wouldn’t be—”
“What? Fucking?” Theo turned to me, his glass again full. “Don’t kid yourself, America. If I’d wanted to fuck you before that night, I would’ve.”
I tried not to take offense at the barb, knowing his anger wasn’t really directed at me. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting. “Implying you didn’t want to?”
Theo took a swig of his drink and shrugged. “Wasn’t allowed to want to, remember? King’s rules.”
Oh yeah, Theo was feeling toxic tonight.
I was about to push for a more definitive answer when the intercom sounded. Dinner had arrived. “I’ve got to go get that, but we’re not done here.”
Theo rolled his eyes and turned his back on me. It was going to be a long night.
I headed down, picked up the Chinese food, and, after tipping the delivery man, took the elevator back up to my place. My mind was full of images from when we opened the storage unit to see all of our faces plastered on the wall with numbers like some kind of sick countdown to the main target—King.
I still couldn’t believe he’d kept such a huge secret from us. Yes, what he’d done had been to ensure the safety of Libertine and its members. But by going off on his own, he’d done the number one thing we never did: left a loose end. One that was trying to eliminate us one by one.
It was a rookie mistake. One I was sure was eating King up tonight.
But he was the least of my worries. No, actually, I was done worrying about his feelings.
That was someone else’s job now. Or two someones.
My main concern now was for the man currently propping up my wall with his hand as he stared out at the night sky.
Still drinking, Theo looked as if the window pane wasn’t there he might just jump out, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. He’d been through it lately. It seemed everywhere he turned there had been accusations, danger, stress, and all I wanted to give him now was safe harbor.
“Food’s here.” I walked over to the table in the living room and pulled out the small cartons. “Theo?”
“Don’t want food.”
I let out a sigh and scooped some beef lo mein onto a paper plate for him. It was his favorite, and after adding a couple of pork spring rolls I headed over to where he stood and placed it on the bar cart beside him. He needed to get some food in him or he was going to regret it.
“You need to eat, Theo.”
“No, I need to drink.” He held his glass up in a mock salute.
“That’s not going to help.”
“Really? Because right now it’s doing a damn good job at making me feel…less.”
“And that’s what you want? To numb your feelings?”
“Better than remembering that my so-called friends and family were so quick to blame me for everything. That you did too.”
I reached for his arm and turned him to face me. “Me?”
“Oui, you.” Theo shrugged out of my hold, and that was almost worse than him taking a shot at me. “Back in Monaco. You thought I’d betrayed our brothers.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I didn’t know what to think.”
“And you think that’s better?”
“I think there was a lot of evidence—”
“Planted evidence.”
“—implicating you.”
Theo’s eyes narrowed. “You believed King.”
“I did not,” I said a little louder than expected. “I came to you. I asked your side of the story. I asked you why at every turn.”
“And doubted me every step of the way.”
It was clear that nothing I said tonight was going to get through to him. He was too angry, too far into the bottle, to talk with any sense. I could see it in the stubborn set of his jaw, the irritated angle of his chin, the volatile emotions swirling in his eyes.
The best thing I could do was walk away.
I turned away from him, and as I walked back to the food, I felt something warm and wet hit my back.
No…
There is no way he just—
“What’s the matter, America?”
I turned back to see the paper plate I’d given him on the floor at my feet. Half of the noodles all over the hardwood, and the other half…
“Did you just throw your fucking food at me?”
Theo ran his eyes down over me to the mess at my feet. “So what if I did?”
Oh, so that was how he wanted to play, was it? Someone had some aggression he wanted to get out, but he was a little too beat up to go a few rounds physically.
Well, two could play at that little game.
I bent and reached for the lo mein piled high on my plate, and felt a distinct sense of satisfaction when Theo’s eyes widened a fraction.
Yeah, that’s right. You’re not the only one who can act a fool.
“There’s no way you’re going to throw that,” he said, eyeing the long, thick noodles between my fingers.
“What makes you think that?”
Theo drained the rest of his drink as though he didn’t have a handful of noodles with his name on it aimed his way. “Because you’re Shepard O’Neil Winchester the third. Mr. Perf—”
He ducked, but was off by half a second, as slippery noodles caught his cheek before splattering on the window behind him.
Theo whipped his head around to stare at the saucy mess as it slid down the pane to the hardwood floor.
“I can’t believe you just fucking did that.”
Then he really wasn’t going to believe what I did next. As he turned back to face me, a second handful was launched, and this time I got him square in the chest.
“Putain! Tus es cinglé.”
I knew the first half of that but not the second. But if I were a betting man, I’d think it was something like, You’re crazy, judging by the shocked look on Theo’s face.
“You seriously want to do this?”
“This?” I eyed him with no remorse. “Didn’t you start this?”
He came toward me, scraping the food off his shirt, and as I turned to look at the food on the table beside me, he lunged.
Theo’s palm met my cheek, noodles smooshing into skin and falling into my shirt, as I stumbled back a step. But I wasn’t going down without a fight, even if it was a food-based one.
I grabbed hold of his wrist and shoved him back a step, then, once I was free of him, grabbed up another fistful of food. I hurled it toward him, aiming for whatever I could hit, but when it landed in his hair, I couldn’t help my snort of laughter.
Well, would you look at that? It wasn’t every day you saw a member of the royal family with lo mein in his eyes.
Theo reached up and slowly swiped the noodles from his face, then growled.
“Lookin’ good there, Your Serene Highness.”
“You’re going to pay for that one.”
“Am I?”
“Oui, et tu vas en chier.”
Now that was definitely a threat, and the sound of it falling from Theo’s tongue was music to my ears—and so were the knuckles he cracked before he rushed me.
He bent at the waist, aiming for mine, and even with my feet braced, the impact had me jolting back and hitting the corner of the table, and before I could catch myself, the two of us tumbled and fell.
We hit the ground with a loud thump, my back cracking on the hardwood, my front cushioning his fall as the rest of the Chinese food fell to the floor under and around us in a sticky mess.
I cursed as the breath whooshed out of me, but if I thought Theo was done, I was in for a rude awakening. He shoved up until he was straddling my thighs, then that scheming fucker grabbed an egg roll off the table and turned back toward me, aiming for my mouth.
The second I realized what he was planning, I clamped my lips shut and the fried flour shell smashed into my mouth.
“Eat it, fucker,” Theo growled, his eyes dancing with glee and mischief as he made a total mess of my face. It wasn’t until I grabbed hold of his hands and rolled him to his back that he let out a grunt of surprise.
But he wasn’t giving up without a fight. He twisted his legs around mine and then shoved me with all his might until I was once again beneath him.
“Shit.” I always forgot what a cunning fighter he was, but as sauce seeped through the material of my shirt and I stared up into Theo’s wild eyes, I didn’t care that he’d one-upped me.
Because instead of the stern, angry line that had been stretched across his lips all night, a wide smile had finally appeared. “You’re fucking unhinged.”
“Well,” Theo said, his breathing coming in heavy, hard pants, “you already knew that.”
“This doesn’t mean you won,” I said as he reached down and picked several of the long strands of noodle from my shirt.
“Non? Sure looks like it from where I’m sitting.”
I stared at the food dangling between his fingers. “What? No one’s ever thrown noodles at the Prince of Monaco before?”
“Can’t say they have.” Theo tossed it aside, then leaned down and licked a path up my cheek to say by my ear, “But I’m glad you were my first.”
I let out a relieved sigh then started to laugh, the tension between us finally defused, as we lay there on my living room floor surrounded by our dinner.
“A food fight, huh?” Theo said as he stared down at me, and I leaned up to take his lips with mine in a fast kiss. “I didn’t think Shepard O’Neil Winchester the third was the type to play with his food.”
“Maybe I just hadn’t found the right person to play with.”
“Oh really? So for next time—”
“Next time?”
“Mhmm. Next time maybe I should play a little…gentler.”
“If you mean maybe paint on me with ice cream or something, instead of throwing it at my back in a temper tantrum, then yes.”
“A temper tantrum?”
I looked around at the mess all over the floor and window, then nodded. “Of epic proportions. But you deserved to have it. I don’t know how I’d be dealing with all of this if I were in your position.”
“Let’s just say I’m not about to let King off the hook with a few well-thrown egg rolls to the head. He has a lot of explaining to do.”
“And a lot of apologizing,” I added.
“That too.” Theo ran his tongue along my lower lip then waggled his brows. “Sticky.”
I shook my head and groaned. “Yeah, I am. All over and not in a good way.”
“Well, how about we go and take care of that?”
“Shower?” Now that sounded like heaven.
“Shower,” Theo agreed, already unbuttoning his shirt as we headed across the living room as though there wasn’t food over half of it.
That could wait. My man couldn’t.
It was time to wash tonight’s stain the hell off of us.