Instead, he points his glare at his sister. “Is it true?”
She freezes, and any attempts to calm her brother down come to a staggering halt.
“Is what the fucker said true, Mia?” he asks again, his voice filled with enough tension to start a nuclear war. “Have you been sleeping with him?”
An expression I’ve never seen on Mia’s face greets me. An expression I now realize I don’t ever want to see on her delicate features again.
Shame.
First, I’m not worth it.
Now, she’s fucking ashamed of me.
She slides her gaze to me, and even though I’ve been busy trying to stop the bleeding on Bran’s fucked-up lip, I meet the eyes that have been haunting my every waking moment.
Go ahead and lie, Mia. Go ahead and deny yourself and pretend it’s all a fucking illusion.
“It’s not what you think,” she signs.
“And what does he think?” I slap the tissue against Bran’s mouth and shove his hand on it, then step in front of him so that I’m facing Mia.
“You shut up.” Her movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and hint at a complete loss of control.
Good.
Maybe this way, she’ll be able to understand the frustration of being cast aside and discarded like a used condom.
“I’m happy to shut up, but only if you tell the truth and nothing but the truth.”
Liquid eyes the color of a stormy sea glare me down as if I’m the next target on her hit list.
“What is he talking about?” It’s Killian who asks this time, his expression darkening.
Considering his pseudo-brother relationship with Mia, his distress brings me great satisfaction. How does it feel to walk in my shoes, motherfucker?
Mia glares at me again before she signs, “It was just a ruse that meant nothing. It’s all over now.”
I’m going to choke the little shit to fucking death.
But then, in the still-functioning logical part of my brain, I realize she’s saying all these demeaning things on purpose.
I let my grin show through, hoping the blood makes it more gruesome. “I disrespectfully disagree. It was more than a ruse and is far from being over. Mia and I came to a slight disagreement about priorities and my notorious penchant for anarchy. Despite my dramatic entry, I’m not here to stir up any shit. On the contrary, I came to propose a long-due truce between our clubs.”
“Not even when you’re buried six feet under,” Nikolai snarls.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to rule it out.” I meet Mia’s gaze. “This rare chance will work out so well for both of us if you just give it a go.”
“My sister is not for fucking sale.”
“I never suggested that. Unlike what she said, Mia came to meet me every night. There was no coercion involved in our nighttime rendezvous.”
Nikolai’s eyes slide to her again and she looks hotter than a ripe tomato before she meets my gaze. “Whether the truce happens or not, I’ll never go back to you.”
“Never say never.” I was going to add muse at the end, but I’m not in the mood for the extended audience to have their nose in my business.
It’s enough that I’ve made this very public display of affection.
Her chin trembles. “You’re insane.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“You won’t have me.”
“I had you once.”
“Won’t be happening again.”
“We won’t know until I try.”
“Stop being delusional.”
“Stop fighting the inevitable.”
Nikolai steps between us, accompanied by his dull sidekick Jeremy, and puts a sudden halt to our harmless banter. “Leave before I fuck up your face.”
“Last I checked, that’s not a good starting point for a truce, no?”
“Let’s just go.” Bran pulls on my arm, but I don’t move.
“I won’t be taking a step outside unless, one, you give me your word about the truce.” I meet Jeremy’s gaze. “You know this is for everyone’s benefit. Cecily and Glyn included.”
“Not happening,” Nikolai grinds out.
“It can be for your benefit, too,” I say casually. “In return, I will refrain from breaking your face for the damage you inflicted on my brother.”
“Forget it, Lan.” Bran pulls harder, his fingers digging into my arm. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” I tilt my head in Nikolai’s direction. “I don’t like it when others harm my family.”