Ensnared (Brutes of Bristlebrook, #1)(35)

Jasper walks in with two bottles of wine and pours us each a glass. I try not to seem too eager as I take a sip. At Dom’s curt nod, everyone starts eating and I dig in, sighing over the incredible flavors.

I notice Beau is favoring his left arm, and under the collar of his shirt, I spot a bandage.

Patting the corners of my mouth with my napkin, I ask worriedly, “Did you run into trouble on the trip?”

After a moment, Beau replies in a guarded tone, “Trouble?”

I look between his shoulder and Dom’s bruise, not failing to notice the heavy silence that has fallen across the table.

“Nothing serious,” Dom cuts in, though he’s looking at Beau, not me. “Just the usual scuffle over supplies.”

Scuffle. Did he classify the shoot-out in the clearing as a scuffle as well? I take another sip of wine.

I can’t let myself forget that theirs is a bloody, rough system. There’s little doubt in my mind that, sooner or later, they’ll have other run-ins, fights. Deaths. They have too much to be desired. Too much to defend. Violence doesn’t come naturally to me, but if it means my safety, I’m pragmatic enough that I won’t quibble about their methods. It is why I’m here, in part.

I want to ask the details, to absorb myself in their problems, the way friends should. The way family does. It’s the kind of beginning for us I might like, the kind where I help ease their burdens. It might make this whole sordid deal feel less . . .

transactional.

Except that Dom’s tone doesn’t invite further questions, and the way the others avoid my eyes tells me well enough that they plan on keeping plenty between themselves.

The realization, right in the middle of the friendly meal, is sudden and painfully sharp. I am not one of them, and they have no intention of letting me try to be. Jasper misled me, and Beau did too.

I’m not their equal . . . I’m just their pet.

And a silly, stupid girl.

Hurt unfurls in my chest, but also something else. Something new. Something hot, and stubborn, and singed at the edges.

Something that pushes against my soft feelings with angry little claws.

Thankfully, my indoctrinated manners save me, and I swallow around the lump in my throat and mindlessly change the topic only a heartbeat too late. “Well, thank you for the clothes; it’s nice to wear things that fit again.”

Irritation flickers over Beau’s face before his features smooth, and I only have a moment to wonder if I said something wrong before he smiles at me. “My pleasure. Had more fun than I thought I would, actually, picking out those . . . bits and pieces.”

There’s a naughty edge to that smile that makes my stomach flip and helps the hurt work its way into a little box. I have dozens of them crammed tight and packed shut inside me.

“Which ones are you wearing?” he prompts.

I clear my throat as I realize they’re all looking at me. I focus on the food in front of me, cutting into the meat.

“Well, I suppose one of you will find out,” I mutter, more tartly than I’d intended.

Jasper leans back with a soft, “Hmm.”

Thankfully, Lucky changes the subject, chattering about the deer he hunted and about showing me the farm. Talk turns to what I’ve been doing, and how I like the garden and animals—easy conversation led by Beau and Lucky, with Jasper chiming in now and again when we reach a lull. Dom mostly watches from the head of the table but trades surprisingly warm jokes with the three, though he doesn’t say a word to me. Jaykob stays quiet, finishing his meal first and then playing with his pocketknife again, flipping it dexterously between his fingers.

Between my glass of wine, the delicious food, and the innocuous conversation, by the end of the dinner, most of my dread has eased and the sting of rejection—and that odd burst of anger—has faded. But when the last fork drops and the words peter out, I know my payment is due.

I take a deep breath.

“Little librarian, are you still sure you want to stay?” Dom asks, deep voice carefully neutral. His eyes are as piercing and predatory as a wolf at bay.

Wetting my dry lips, I nod once.

Beau sits forward, favoring his injured arm just slightly, and he awards me a relieved smile. He looks gorgeous today, in a simple navy shirt and jeans.

“Well in that case, we should cover off a couple of things before we get started,” he says, his drawl is slow and careful as he measures my response. “Before the strikes, we all had sexual health tests done regularly for the club, but it’s been a while and we’ve had other partners since.”

“Not all of us,” Jasper breaks in coolly before taking a sip of wine.

Lucky is stiff and uncomfortable beside him. Catching my stare, he shifts in his seat and offers me a smile that’s really more of a grimace.

“Now, darlin’, I’ve done regular checkups for all of us and as far as I can tell, we’re clean—but we don’t have modern testing available, so there’s no way to be sure. Some diseases are asymptomatic, so there’s always a risk. And then there’s pregnancy to think about.”

I’m grateful he’s bringing this up, even if the whole conversation makes me want to run in the opposite direction. “I have an IUD—the copper one. I don’t think it’s meant to expire for another five years. And I was clean. I was tested after . . . well, after Henry. There hasn’t been anyone since, like I said. I haven’t had any checkups or anything though, obviously.”