It would help if he lost that damnable cream sweater though. It emphasizes his shoulders, the Stygian darkness of his hair.
It’s too inviting for how closed off he is.
The scrape of Dom’s chair as he sits draws my attention. He gives me an impatient look. “I’m not demonizing anyone. I don’t like hypocrites. If you enjoy something, say so. You feel something, feel it. People who put a stranglehold on their lives because they’re too afraid to actually do what they want are pathetic. And frustrating to be around.”
“Now ain’t that the funniest thing, partner—I agree with you completely,” Beau says in a sugar-sweet tone, and Dom gives him a sharp glare.
Beau squeezes my upper arms, then tugs at my hand until we’re seated next to each other. Dom is on my other side at the head of the table. I mull over Dom’s words, cut by how aptly, how neatly, they slap a label on me. As though being polite and doing as I’m told is somehow a failing, when they’ve made it clear that I’m living here at their mercy. Irritation pricks me.
One day I’m going to tell him to fuck off, and I’m not going to be able to stop myself.
And it might be soon, because my patience for just about everything is wearing thin right now.
I’m about to respond—politely, I think—when Jaykob snorts. The sound startles me. The last two times we were all together, he hardly engaged with the others at all.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jayk rakes his eyes over Dom, the sneer in his voice clear. “Not everyone is lucky enough to just ‘do what they want.’ Only people with connected daddies get that luxury. Some of us actually have to make some tough choices and hold our tongues when rich assholes tell us to jump.”
I close my mouth and duck my head to hide a smile. I forgot, for a moment, that the chip on his shoulder is at least as big as mine.
Dom’s whole body turns hard and threatening. “This you holding your tongue?” he asks. “’Cause it needs work.”
Staring darkly at Dom, Jaykob’s lip curls like he’s about to let loose.
Lucky enters with a fragrant platter of fresh roasted potato chips, then slows, tensing. After glancing around the room with new caution, he chooses a seat a watchful distance from Dom and far from Jayk. Calm and seeming bored by the altercation, Jasper brushes past Lucky with his drink—close enough that Lucky has to freeze so he can slide past—and the platter tumbles out of Lucky’s hands. It clatters across the table, spraying crispy potatoes and cutting Jayk off mid-snarl.
“Cock-sucking, son of a—” Lucky sucks his lower lip into his mouth, reaching for the overturned platter as Jasper settles into the chair beside him.
Surprised, I sit up and help him right the pieces back onto the board, looking at his pink cheeks curiously. That wasn’t like him; he’s usually so graceful. When everything’s righted, he slumps back in his seat, shifting it back slightly and not looking at anyone.
Jasper helps himself to a chip, unfazed, that cool, careful mask firmly back in place. Lucky’s eyes drift to him, a crease between his brows.
Frowning, I look between them all, noting the tense, unhappy faces.
“Is it always like this?” I ask Beau in an undertone.
His gaze follows mine, and he shakes his head once. Needing to soothe my anxious tension, I help myself to an extra chunk of cheese.
“If you’ve got something to say, Ranger, spit it out.” Dom is intent on Jaykob, and he looms at the head of the table, a dark, menacing presence looking down on his subjects.
Jayk rolls his eyes, not looking at him. It’s the Jaykob I met that first day, full of bitter anger, and my heart tugs for him.
“No sir, not me,” he mocks. “I only eat, shit, and think on command.”
Jasper sighs and then looks up to study Jaykob seriously. It’s a relief not to have that look leveled at me.
“I know it didn’t come across well the first time, but I do apologize, Jaykob, for my assumptions the other day. I know better than that. Know you better than that, in fact, and should have held my judgment until I had all the details. You deserve better from me, and I can only promise I will not be so hasty in future.”
Jayk stiffens, going from battle-ready offense to tense-shouldered defense.
“Is that what this is about?” Some of the menace seeps from Dom, the posturing. He seems earnest when he says, “Fuck. I meant to talk to you too, you know. You’re a good soldier, Jayk. I shouldn’t have gone after you like that. I trust you in our team without question.”
Dom is only apologizing to Jayk now?
Like a muscle-bound wind-up doll, Jayk gets more and more rigid with each word. The sneer settles in like it’s marked in the grooves of his face. He pushes to his feet, grabbing a bowl before Dom even finishes speaking.
“Know what? Food tastes better in the servant’s quarters anyway.” He stops in front of me, looking down with a smirk. But even that seems off, discomfited. “You feel like crawling through the dirt again tonight, princess, I’ll fuck your ass so hard your crown comes right off.”
“Jaykob,” Jasper snaps.
Beau’s hand tightens around mine under the table.
I ignore them both, searching Jaykob’s rough face for the man who stood against the world for me yesterday.
“Oh, Jayk,” I breathe.
Sharp teeth have clamped around my churning insides, shredding them as they twist. The wounds can sit beside the slices I’ve already received today.
His smirk drops at my whisper and a muscle ticks in his jaw as he pushes into my face. “I don’t need your pity.”
He slams a hand on the table beside me, and he might as well have my heart in his fist, squishing it to a pulp. A storm of fury, he makes for the door.
He’s halfway there when Dom says, “Stop.”
When Jayk ignores him, Dom stands and that spine-tingling sense of his power, his competence, washes over me again.
“Stop, Ranger. That’s an order.”
But Dom’s not looking at Jayk, he’s looking down at a small, buzzing device.
Beau curses. “Where?”
Dom shakes his head. “We need a visual. Jasper?”
Jasper nods and stands as well. “We’d best go to the study.”
They both look at Jayk’s back where he still stands beside the door. He doesn’t turn around but, after a long moment, his head drops back and his chest heaves.
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Fine.”
I watch Jayk leave, wondering if he would accept a hug later, then roll my eyes at myself. Almost definitely not. I suppress a sigh.
I wonder if he’d give me one for my sake, if not for his.
Dom looks at Beau pointedly, then at me, then back to Beau. Without another glance my way, he leaves the room. Beau presses his head into his hand, rubbing his forehead and avoiding my gaze.
My mouth twists. I wonder if Jayk’s bitterness is catching.
“What’s happening?” I ask, though I dread the non-answer I know is coming.
Jasper regards me through his pretty mask—impenetrable, except for those exhausted rings around his eyes. “It’s nothing that need worry you. We’ll make sure of that. You should get some rest, Eden. It’s been a long day for you.”