I’m flipping pancakes in the kitchen when Jer and Ashley walk in, smiling.
“How are you feeling today, Isa?” Ashley asks, clipping her hair up into a cute little knot on the top of her head while smiling shyly at Jer.
I pause, placing my hand on my hip and narrowing my eyes at the both of them. “What’s happening here?” I gesture to the two of them with my spatula. Ashley lives in the guest house and Jer lives in the south wing. Ashley is vibrant and young, and Jer is a middle-aged ex-marine. It wouldn’t be absurd for anything to happen between the two of them nor would it be unheard of, which is why I’m questioning it.
Jer clears his throat. “I will be back this afternoon, trouble. I’ve got to drive Bryant into town.”
“You want a pancake for the road?” I ask, lifting one in the air. “They’re good—”
“—I have a question,” Stacey’s voice cuts in from the other side of the kitchen.
I ignore her, going back to my pancake. I flip it onto a plate, scoop up some butter and watch as it slowly melts on the griddle. “—Are you or are you not going to appear as Bryant’s wife? Because people know that he’s married to you.”
Flipping off the griddle, I slide the plate of pancakes over to Ash and Jer silently, before shoving past Stacey and making my way to my room, already annoyed with this day and the fact that she has ruined my pancakes. I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate being around her.
My phone rings on the bedside table as I enter, and I reach for it, answering after seeing Jess’ name flash over the screen.
“Change of plans.” It’s the first thing I say even though she is the one who called me. I put it on speaker and toss my phone onto the bed.
“What’s happening?”
Clearing my throat, I massage my temples and begin pacing up and down the end of my bed. Fucking Stacey. She’s getting into my head. “I think we might need to change how we’re doing this.”
“Okay?” Jess whispers. “But what do you mean?”
I’m about to open my mouth and answer when Devon walks through the door. His eyes fall to my phone, and then to me. I panic.
“Don’t say another word and I’ll call you back!” Just before I dive onto my bed to hang up, Jess yells.
“—wait! Isa!”
Devon freezes.
I stiffen. Fuuuuucccckkkkkkkk!
Panic surges through my veins as I finally hang up on her. Maybe he didn’t recognize her voice? Maybe he—
“What the fuck are you up to and why was Jess on the phone? We haven’t seen her since your wedding.”
I reach for words that I don’t think I can mentally grasp. “I—I—” Shit. I was a much better liar when I never gave a shit about anything or anyone. Devon always made it hard to lie to him.
“Isa…” he warns, his footsteps breaking through the silence as the click of the door vibrates. “What have you done, baby?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and drop down onto the bed, the soft covers folding around my body. “I can’t tell you, Devon.”
“Why?” he asks, and before I know it, he’s sitting right beside me, his hand on my thigh. I study it. His soft skin against mine. Perfectly manicured fingernails on hands that have ended lives. Fucking pretty boy.
“Because Bryant can’t know right now, Devon, and as much as I know you love me…” I pause, bringing my eyes up to his while chewing on my bottom lip nervously. “I know you love him just that little bit more.” There’s a long pull of silence before he takes his hand away from my thigh and rubs it over his mouth.
“Isa, love has nothing to do with loyalty, baby girl. I love you more than I could ever love anyone, Bryant included, but loyalty?” He shakes his head before standing back to his feet. I search his eyes as he studies me closely. “You’re right. Don’t tell me. I will tell him. But Isa…” Devon’s blond brows curve in. “Be careful, okay? Bryant is still the beast that you should fear, even though his teeth appear to be blunt when it comes to you.”
I squeeze the covers in my hands before nodding. “You’re right.”
I have to remember who Bryant is and what he’s capable of. It slips my mind sometimes, during my recklessness. Devon leaves after that, and I slip into the bath, scrubbing up. It’s not until I’m rolling around in my covers later that night when my door opens and the scent of whiskey rolls in in heavy waves.
“Bryant,” I whisper out into the darkness.
He doesn’t say a word, but I feel the mattress sink where he takes a seat beside me. I wish I could see him to be able to see what mood he’s in.