That was right about when I fell asleep, exhausted from the day.
Though ‘exhausted’ was clearly an understatement because my sleep was dreamless, a bone-deep fatigue invading everything. I was still dressed in my oversized hoodie and leggings when I finally blinked my eyes open, Sterling’s calm breathing making me feel relaxed as I squinted my eyes at the clock, realizing it was nearly one in the morning. The television was on, so I could see that Stratton was sleeping in the armchair spread out and Lincoln was on the other side of me. I frowned, not liking that I didn’t know where Yates, King, and Dermot were.
Slipping from bed, I toed on some slippers and made my way out of my room and down the large marble staircase. I figured I would check the office first. I wasn’t disappointed to find King sitting at the desk, his forehead propped up by his hand as Yates sat in front of him in one of the leather chairs with its back to the door. He was saying something quietly, but that wasn’t what caught my eye. No, it was Dermot, who was currently knocked out on the couch, his lip busted open.
I stepped into the office and offered King a wide-eyed look, his gaze both tired and angry, something dark brewing under there. My gaze darted to Yates, who was now looking back at me, my eyes narrowing with concern.
“Holy crap!” I slapped a hand over my own mouth, wincing at how loud I was, but thankfully, Dermot didn’t wake up.
“He’s not waking up anytime soon,” Yates mused as I crossed the room and gently grasped his face, looking over the bruising on the side of his jaw and the dried blood from under his nose. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be broken.
“What happened?” I demanded.
“We had to ‘convince’ Dermot to not start a full-out gang war,” Yates mused, tugging me down onto his lap and burying his head against my chest. “You smell like rain; I like it.”
I almost smiled at that, the man seeming both sleepy and somewhat adorable. Maybe he needed to get hit in the head more often.Obviously joking. I was sincerely concerned he now had legitimate screws loose.
My eyes darted to the bottle and empty glasses between King and him.
Ah, that made sense.
It was also part of the reason King was so quiet, because a slightly drunk King got super quiet, and it was honestly a bit eerie sometimes. His eyes ran over my face as he let out a slow exhale.
“I’m fine, he’s fine, Stratton’s fine,” I assured him quietly. “We’re fine, King.”
He inhaled and nodded. “I’m still going to slaughter them.”
I didn’t respond to that, not willing to clarify if he was being serious or not as I looked down at Yates, his eyes closed. I had no idea if Dermot had told him about them pulling a gun on me, but I felt like that little detail didn’t need to be brought up currently. If it came up later, fine, but right now they needed to go to bed.
“Was he really going to try to take them all on?” I murmured.
King snorted. “I don’t think he’d thought through it that far. Dermot has a… temper. Not the same as me, but for sure a temper. He’s a bit of a hair trigger when he feels like someone is threatening something important to him.”
“Oh.” I swallowed.
“That would be you, princess, if you didn’t realize.” He took a drink of the amber liquid in his glass. Lightning flashed outside, thunder rolling in the distance as the sound of rain pattered on the window nearby.
“He went because of me?” I clarified.
“Yes.” He nodded and then sighed. “He is assuming responsibility for your safety and what happened tonight. I told him that it wasn’t his fault since the bastard pulled a gun on him, but I don’t think that’s valid reasoning in his mind.”
I blinked and shook my head, running my fingers through Yates’s hair. “That’s insane, King.”
The man laughed darkly. “After all of this, that’s the insane part?”
To be fair, it was a valid question.
I watched as he reached to pour himself another glass, and I moved to stop him. I had a feeling that King would want to be sober for our trip, and currently he was on his way to being wasted.
“We have to be on the jet in two hours.” I reached over and slid the bottle down the desk, Yates making a noise of complaint at my movement. King watched the bottle until it came to a stop and looked back at me, his smile turning a bit lighter.
“So responsible, princess.” He offered me a heated look.
“That’s me,” I laughed. “Super responsible.” And not crazy, clearly.
Yates let out a soft sound, nuzzling against my chest that was currently covered in a hoodie and making me turn ten shades of red. King flashed a smile at my embarrassment as I narrowed my eyes. I stood up and nodded towards the door. “Come on, both of you need sleep. Let’s go.”
“This reminds me of when we got drunk sophomore year and Dahlia tried to make sure we didn’t get caught.” Yates flashed a smile. The memory had me almost smiling.