“Yes, sir,” Declan said. “We have more.”
“Alright then.” He sealed the plastic and carefully laid the bag on his desk. “I will keep my eyes open, and I will do checks through everyone’s home. If she’s with any of my men, I will find her.”
“Thank you,” Declan said. “I know that won’t be easy, so really, thank you.”
Ass-kissing fucking dick.
“No. It won’t be easy, but I don’t tolerate things like this from my men.” His eyes caught my glare, but he continued speaking to Declan. “We respect our women here.”
I scoffed.
“Brooke.” Declan shot me another look.
“Is there something you’d like to be made known,Brooke?” He used the same assertive tone to speak my name that Declan had, and both pissed me off.
Neither of them were my father, and I was no child. I didn’t care how old Abe was, what time he belonged to, or what he deemed appropriate. That was unacceptable.
“You would’ve allowed me to speak,” I snapped.
“Excuse me?”
“If you respected your women like you say you do, you would have allowed me to speak a moment ago.”
“I specifically addressed Declan, and you interrupted. You were the one who was disrespectful—”
“He didn’t know, and I did. You wanted to hear it from a man because a woman’s voice has less value to you than a man’s. I don’t care if—”
“Yet again, you’ve interrupted me.” His tone deepened once more to that aggressive, authoritarian octave. “Should you bring yourgirlto my home again, Declan, I hope you’ll have taught her to keep those lips sealed unless instructed to open them. Otherwise, bring a muzzle.”
My breaths picked up to an uneven level, heart hammering so hard against my ribs that I thought it’d slam across the room.
“Don’t worry.” I stood, clanking my empty vodka cranberry to his desk. “Doubt we’ll meet again.”
As I headed from the room, Declan apologized on my behalf.
That fuckerapologized.
By the time I made it downstairs, my hands were fisted. I was ready to punch something, or kick something, or burn this entire damn mansion to the ground. Everything moved past in a blur, so furious that time seemed to distort. One moment, I was atop the stairs, the next, I was rushing outside, staring at that fountain.
A statue of Artemis in his front lawn.
A statue of a goddess who was known for protecting sweet nymphs, dancing through the wilderness, and putting those arrows that hung on her back through the bodies of rapists.
Orion stood behind her for a damn reason. Artemis was the protector. Orion was a man who respected that. A man she allowed the pleasure of existing in her presence because he treated her with the dignity a goddess deserved.
The statue of a woman who loved and cared for women on the lawn of a misogynist who expected women only to speak when spoken to.
Artemis would’ve wrapped a muzzle around Abe’s face just before putting an arrow between his eyes.
That man had no right to admire her and then spit in the face of a woman.
Contemplating reciting a spell that would combust that statue to dust, someone grasped my elbow. “Brooke—”
I wheeled around, eyes widened with fury. “Don’t you Brooke me, you chauvinistic piece of shit.”
Declan’s brows furrowed. “I’m not a chauvinist—”
“Yes, you are. Yes, youfuckingare.” I stepped forward, breaths hard and fast, tone deepening to match his. “My girl.She’s mine, and she always will be. Who the hell do you think you are?”