“We doing anything about Mila or what?” Max asked my brother as he sat down beside him on the couch. Lifting his beer, he glanced over at the bar where Mila had gone to get herself a drink.
I followed his gaze, noting how close my twin was standing to some thickly muscled beast of a guy. But the lighting in the club was too dim for me to make out his features. All I could tell was that from the way she was standing, she was very, very interested.
Maverick started to tilt his head in our sister’s direction, but River pulled his head down, whispering something in his ear that had his full and undivided attention. “Nope,” Mav told Max. “Let her have some fun. She can take care of herself. Where is she going to go with Volkov’s men watching everyone’s every move?”
“Whatever you say, man. She’s your sister.” He tipped back his beer, draining it before reaching for another in the huge ice chest beside the couch. Before leaning back, he glanced at me. “You thirsty, Monroe? You want a beer? Something else? I’ll get it for you.”
I tried to smile for him, but from the way his lips pressed into a hard line, I figured I didn’t pull it off. “No thanks,” I told him, curling my legs up under me. “I’m good.”
The champagne I’d had with Tavia and the other girls earlier had made me dizzy, causing my plan to drink away my heartache to fly right out of the window. I was such a flipping lightweight, whereas Mila could have drunk a shot of everything behind the bar and still been able to walk straight. Probably.
Around me, everyone seemed to be having a good time, but soon I wasn’t paying attention. I was surrounded by people, but I felt as if I were all alone. I missed G, missed the feel of the necklace against my skin, hated that I couldn’t talk to him.
Only a year or so before, I realized there was a microphone in the medallion. At first, I’d been upset, thinking maybe he was using me to spy on my family. Or rather, Daddy and the MC. But then I realized if that was the point, then why did he continually save me? Why hadn’t he done something with the information he was no doubt privy to by that point?
That was when I’d started talking to him, needing to be a part of his day in some way, even if it did look like I was insane talking to an empty room. More recently, however, I’d been asking more of him. Not just how his day was or if he was okay.
I wanted to know when he was finally going to come for me.
The continued silence I’d received on that particular question told me loud and clear all I needed to know.
He was never going to come for me.
Hours passed. Mila was gone, off with the guy she’d met at the bar after telling me to cover for her. She promised she would be back at the mansion to get ready for the wedding. Maverick was so lost in River, he didn’t even notice Mila was gone. The others seemed to be taking his lead on what to do where she was concerned, so they didn’t mention the fact that she was MIA.
Tavia and the two Donati sisters had already joined us, but they were mingling with the others in our party and some of the VIPs who weren’t with us. Theo was glued to Tavia’s side, but just before midnight, she was ready to go.
I was all too happy to go back to the mansion with her and fall into bed, but first, I needed the bathroom. Groaning because my muscles felt stiff from sitting in one spot for so long, I got to my feet, telling River I was going to stop in the ladies’ room before we left.
She barely pulled her mouth free of my brother long enough to garble out a “’kay,” before her lips were locked on his again.
There was a line in the ladies’ room, but it moved fairly quickly, and I was on my way out the door within a few minutes. As I moved to the side to let another girl in, my phone alerted me that I had a text. Sighing, I pulled it out of my jeans pocket.
My eyes were on my phone screen and not where I was going, shaking my head at the picture of my sister getting a tattoo from the guy she’d left with earlier. Daddy was going to have a total fit. He didn’t care how much ink we got, but he had to be the artist. A tattoo was forever—unless you got it lasered off—and he didn’t trust anyone but himself to put it there. It was his only rule when it came to any of us getting a tattoo, and Mom agreed with him.
He was going to go into a total rage, but knowing Mila, she would get him on her side in ten minutes flat.
Another girl passed me, and I stopped, letting her by and taking a look around. I felt the oddest sensation at the base of my skull, one that screamed someone was watching me. But the narrow hallway that led to the ladies’ room was empty except for me and the girl the door had just closed behind.
“I’m going insane,” I muttered, but my hand went straight for my medallion.
Only to wrap around nothing.
Tears burned my eyes yet again, and I leaned back against the wall, sucking in one deep breath after another as I fought not to break down.
I never should have taken off the necklace. It was everything to me, and I’d just left it at home like it was nothing.
“Your tears gut me, precious.”
I jerked, convinced I was imagining it. I pressed my hand to my chest, hoping to ease the ache hearing his voice brought. Out of the sha
dows, his big, scarred hand covered mine, holding it against the pounding of my heart. Then the rest of him materialized out of the darkness.
As he’d been every other time I’d been able to see him, he was dressed from head to toe in black. Boots, pants, thin long-sleeved shirt with the hood pulled up over his head—shielding his scarred face from me. His palm felt rough with calluses, but his touch was gentle.
“G,” I whispered his name and was thankful the wall was at my back. Otherwise, my weak knees already would have given out and I would have fallen at his feet.
His other hand went to my hip, holding me in place as he stepped closer, blanketing me in his darkness as another girl walked by. She didn’t seem to notice us, as if we weren’t even there.