Glass probably tasted better than those words. No amount of even attempting a bow would soften the bitterness in his tone. “You seem to be having a problem, Reed.”
“No,” Adam said, the word stilted. “I am simply not used to forced idleness.”
“Forced idleness?” The figure on the screen chuckled, but the sound was not remotely humorous or entertained. “Don’t waste my time, Reed.” Any pretense of amusement vanished. “You and your little friend think you can work a separate game and that I won’t find out about it?”
The curl of unease and apprehension from earlier redoubled. Adam stiffened at his tone. What the fuck had those guys done?
“What, precisely, is it you think we’ve done?” If anything, the belligerence in his tone doubled. I’d give Adam this, he had balls. But then, I’d known that from the beginning. Ezra was the more personable of the two, but Adam would get his hands dirty if he deemed it necessary.
“I’d have care with your tone,” the king warned him.
“Then you might consider starting to take care with your own.” Adam was as far from cowed as one could be. “You didn’t recruit me for my manners, but for my name, my connections, and my money.”
“And because of this, you think you have leverage? Special privileges?”
“I don’t think I have shit, I just know I’m not going to keep kissing your ass while you hide in the shadows and we do all the dirty work. You wanted me here. I’m here. You want me polite and respectful? You start demonstrating the same.”
“Or what?”
“Or I walk.”
“Mr. Reed, you are aware of the rules. You were aware when you agreed to them.”
“I’m also aware that you need me a hell of a lot more than I need you.”
The gauntlet had been thrown down. Whatever the king had done to earn Adam’s ire, I didn’t want to imagine. He’d once tried to leverage Rome’s safety in an attempt to hold his life over me. It had taken a few bloody encounters for him to get the message. My loyalty wouldn’t be bought that way.
Nor would I tolerate a single threat made against my brother. Whatever leverage he had over Adam—or was that it? Had he lost his leverage over him? That would make Adam very much a wildcard.
And a wildcard could be put to my advantage.
Maybe.
“You’re quiet, O’Connell.”
“This conversation has nothing to do with me.” Impersonal and polite. “I was merely waiting to find out why you wanted me here.”
Adam didn’t even spare me a look. Then again, if he’d wanted me to back his play, he should have said something earlier. But I wouldn’t have looked to him for assistance either. That wasn’t the relationship we had. The fact Ezra had warned me not that long ago had been an aberration, not the norm. None of the Royals were tight. Gang or not, they feasted on each other’s failures, not successes.
“Interesting. You have no comment on the situation?”
Right. “Do you want me to comment on it?”
The shadowy figure shifted, leaning back in his chair. As it was the closest I’d ever come to seeing the “man” himself, I tracked every visible twitch. Not that he gave many clues. “You didn’t achieve the rank of Bishop by being so careful, now did you?”
I snorted. “I’m not a bishop.” I was only a knight.
“Ah, but that is where you are wrong, O’Connell.”
It was the first I was hearing of it, but I didn’t leap to the bait.
“In fact, that is exactly why you are here.”
Adam shifted his weight and even as aware of him as I was, I didn’t dare look away from the screen. Alarm bells went off in my head. This situation was about to go from bad to worse.
“Is that so?” I kept the inquiry careful. Guarded.
“Yes, to move up, the knight must take bishop you see, and Mr. Reed has decided he no longer needs us.”
Fuck. My. Life.
“And you know the rules,” he said, steepling his hands together. For a split second, they were out of the shadow and I could make out a ring on his right hand. Not much definition, but it was a heavy ring. “Execute, Mr. Reed, Mr. O’Connell, and take his place as Bishop.”
CLASH
MILO
I didn’t say a word when I checked out where they were going to be. The next show was clear across the country. But I could make the drive in a couple of days. I’d get there the same day they did. Gas money and a few hundred dollars socked away for a rainy day. Her birthday was coming up. Well, the birthday she celebrated anyway. And I wanted to see her. I was also being selfish as fuck.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t care. I just—needed the break. A break from everything. I needed to see her and have a breather. Leaving a note for the guys, I told them I’d be back in a few days. It was better to slip away unseen or someone would take it upon themselves to follow me. Or just climb in the car.
Once on the highway, I exhaled a long breath. The agitation in my blood cooled. The tension in my spine unknotted. Music cranked, the cool wind blowing through the windows, and my foot on the accelerator as I left Braxton Harbor in the rearview mirror. I didn’t run away. Didn’t think I was now. Just—this damn urge to see her. I trusted my instincts. When I ignored my gut, bad shit happened.
With every mile I put on the car, I relaxed more. This was the right call. The guys would be fine for a few days. They could handle it. If they didn’t—well, I’d deal with it when I got back. The drive took just under two days, a little over thirty-seven hours, including a four hour nap I took in the car at a rest stop.
I made it to Orlando in time to see her walking into the hotel. It was pure luck that I guessed the right one. Well, luck and the fact I knew their troupe had used that hotel before. She looked dead on her feet. The bitch walking with her looked like a bitch. I didn’t know who the cunt was—wait—yes, I did. The chaperone. Okay, maybe a chaperone should look like someone smashed her face with a brick to create that expression.
Still…not a fan.
I followed them inside, made a show of checking the wall with all its pamphlets of local attractions while they checked in. Ivy looked so damn tired, but then it was still early and they’d been traveling.
“Since the venue is tied up with the riggers,” she said while they waited on the hotel desk clerk to sort out their rooms—multiple. So, Ivy had her own room. How—lonely. Then again, maybe she wanted privacy. Having grown up with the guys all sharing the same room most of the time, I craved personal space, but it could also be too damn quiet. “I’ll just do stretches and use the gym here.”
The chaperone nodded. “Do not go down to the gym without me.”
Ivy rolled her eyes.
I bit back a smile. I swore she gave the woman a look that just radiated “bite me.” Kind of bratty, but I appreciated it. Rules were there to chafe, but also to protect. Or so Ms Stephanie often reminded us. The rules were also there to be bent carefully with just the right amount of pressure.
Pre-law had given me a lot of insight on that one.
As soon as they had their rooms and keycards, I made a note of which floor and let them disappear into the elevators, before I asked the clerk about whether they had a room available. Unfortunately, my plans had been blown at the last minute and the girl behind the desk blushed when I smiled at her.