“I will. J-just not now, okay?” I pause, then blurt to deviate her attention, “Did Jonathan call you?”
“Yup. Seven in the morning like a damn alarm — not that I slept. I spent the entire night plotting his demise. He thought he could lock you up and have his happily ever after? Nuh-uh, not happening.”
Not that she could’ve done anything to him, but the fact that she didn’t give up on me warms my heart.
“I even brought backup.”
“What type of backup?”
She grins with pure mischievousness. “Johnny doesn’t get to chase me away, then call me over as if I’m his lap dog.”
“What did you do, Lay?”
“Relax. I only shuffled his cards with the one person he hates.”
Recognition settles in. “You didn’t.”
“Totes did.” Her grin widens. “I brought my Daddy.”
I jump to my feet. “Lay! What if they go against each other?”
“You think they would? Oh em gee, I should’ve stayed to watch.”
“You’re…” I point a finger at her, lost for words.
“The best?” She flutters her lashes. “Your ride or die?”
“I’ll deal with you later.”
“Mate, wait!” she calls after me, but I’m already flying down the stairs, not bothering with shoes.
If my vague memories from last night were real, Jonathan barely slept. It was close to four in the morning when he spooned me from behind. The last thing he needs is a quarrel with Ethan at the start of his day.
There’s no doubt in my mind that they’ll go at each other’s throats. Ethan might act cool, but he doesn’t hesitate to take a jab at Jonathan — in fact, he makes it his mission. As for my tyrant, well, he has no tolerance for Ethan whatsoever and he doesn’t shy away from showing it.
He even projects that hostility at Elsa, just for the fact that she shares DNA with Ethan.
Sure enough, clipped voices filter in from the main lounge area at the entrance of the King mansion.
“You’re not welcome here, Ethan. Leave.”
“Layla is worried about Aurora and I can’t leave without making sure she’s safe.”
“Her safety and her entire existence are none of your fucking concern.” Jonathan’s voice turns eerily calm but with a threatening undertone. “Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Don’t fucking breathe near her.”
A chuckle comes from Ethan. “And if I refuse?”
“Let the answer to that be a surprise.”
“Are you threatening me, Jon?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What? Jon? That’s what I used to call you back in the day.”
“You lost the right to call me that a long time ago, you fucking bastard.”
“I lost my wife, too.” Ethan’s tone hardens.