He lets out a growl. “It makes me look stupid, Sin.”
“It makes you look like you don’t want to marry a druggie. I don’t see where that makes you look stupid.” I sit down at the table across from Nicholas and slide a plate over to him. “Eat,” I command. “You look like shit.”
To my surprise, he smirks at me and begins to dig in.
“Easton—”
“Make the announcement, Chance. You’ve got twenty-four hours.” I hang up and set my cell down. Placing my elbows on the table, I bow my head, running my hands through my hair and pushing it off my forehead.
There no longer needs to be a wedding. My ticket is sitting right in front of me. I made the deal with Chance before I even knew Nicholas was alive. And even when I found out, there was no guarantee the Spade brothers were just going to hand him over to me. I needed several eggs in my basket. Now I’ve got the golden goose.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans back into the seat, slouching into it. His eyes drop to my ring that has the Lords’ crest on it. He looks at it longingly, as if he wishes to have one himself. “So I’ve got a week,” he speaks, starting where our last conversation left off.
I imagine freedom isn’t as good as it sounds. Carnage is all he’s known for so long. It’s like a prisoner who is getting out on parole after serving thirty years but knows they won’t be able to function in the real world. Cage a person long enough and they believe they can no longer fly.
“You’re not going back to Carnage.” I stand, picking up his plate and placing it in the sink.
“What?” He jumps to his feet. “They said a week until they collect.”
“You’re free. Don’t fuck it up.” I go to return to the bedroom, but he grabs my upper arm, spinning me around to face him. His face inches from mine, eyes narrowed. “What did you do?” he demands.
“What needed to be done,” I say simply.
“Easton—”
ELLINGTON
MY FATHER’S EYESmeet mine over Sin’s shoulder and he stops whatever he was about to say and lets go of him, stepping back. Sin turns to look at me and sighs heavily.
I heard enough to be confused even more. I don’t know what Carnage is or why my father was there, but I didn’t like that Sin said he did what needed to be done. If it involves the Lords, it’ll require flesh and blood.
My dad runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead as if he’s trying to fix it. To look more presentable in my presence. It’s weird to see him. It’s him but he doesn’t look the same. He was always in shape, took care of himself. But he’s skinnier than I remember him ever being. His hair is graying, and his eyes look dull. They were always a pretty blue. Not as blue as mine and my mother’s but just as beautiful. He’s got a scar across his right cheek that wasn’t there before. Another on his forearm. They both look like they’ve been there for years.
“Sit down, Elli. You need some breakfast,” Sin states, walking over to the stovetop. He grabs a plate and starts putting eggs on it.
I walk around the island, my back to the counters so I can keep an eye on my dad and fall into a chair, watching him walk over to the table as well. He takes the seat farthest away from me at the opposite end, sitting at the head of the table.
Sin comes over and sets a plate down with a fork and a bottle of water. Leaning over, he kisses my forehead and then sits down to my right, facing the entrance of the kitchen. “Eat up. You need the energy.”
An awkward silence falls over the room as I drop my eyes to look over the eggs, bacon, and piece of toast. “I’m not hungry,” I whisper.
“Elli—”
“Why is he here?” I drop the fork to the table, listening to it clank, and look at Sin, interrupting my father. “Why are you here?” I growl, getting to my feet, irritation building. “Why are you both in my house?”
“There’s a lot we need to talk about,” Sin states, his eyes showing he’s getting irritated as well that I won’t just give up. Like I don’t deserve to know the truth.
I let him fuck me senseless this morning but that’s sex. He knows it’s a weakness of mine. That doesn’t mean I won’t be levelheaded afterward. “Let’s start with you.” I place my hands on my hips. “Hmm? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“The truth,” he gets to his feet, the chair scraping across the floor in the process, and turns to face me, “is that Gunner called and told me you were at a party getting fucked up. As usual.” He steps closer to me, and I swallow. “And asked what I wanted him to do. I told him to drag you out of that party if necessary. When he called me back, he had found you in a bedroom, by yourself. Unconscious and vomiting.”
I narrow my eyes up at him as he takes another step closer, my back now pressed against the counter. “I was fine…”
“You were overdosing!” he shouts. “Holland lied to you. Mack didn’t give you ecstasy. It was fentanyl. Gavin had to give you Narcan which led to withdrawals once it wore off. You could have died, Elli. Why did you do it?”
I can’t answer. That would show him just how weak I am.
“Tell me! Why did you take something from someone not knowing what it was?” he demands.