“Look, I don’t expect you all to like me. I don’t expect to infiltrate your bromance. I don’t expect anything from you. But I want you to know I understand that you’re important to Sylas. If I take him, you all come with him and I’m okay with that. I don’t hold any grudges for what you did. We were all doing our jobs and it wasn’t personal.” I finish my little speech and look around again.
“So that’s all I have to say. And if you don’t believe me, feel free to strap me up to a lie detector.”
Row scoffs.
“You’ve probably trained how to beat one.” I smile.
“You’re right, I have. That was one fun summer.” Dad and I played with a machine the summer after my junior year of high school until I could beat it without even trying.
Track and Cash start asking me more about my training with my father and I share some things. Baz also seems interested and starts asking questions as well. Row and Hardy remain reserved, which is fine. I wouldn’t trust me either.
Sylas just watches me with a slight smile on his face. I’m probably going to get an earful from him when we get back to my apartment.
I stop myself after two beers, but the rest keep going. I assume they all took cabs here. I tell Sylas if he wants to keep going, he can, since I’m driving.
“I’m good,” he says, finishing his second beer.
“You’ve been awful quiet,” I say, ignoring everyone else and focusing on him.
“Just observing,” he says.
“Me?” I ask.
“Yes.” There’s definitely more to it, but he doesn’t want to say it in front of the guys. They’ve stopped staring at me like I was a creature in a zoo and are talking about other times they’ve shared together. That gets Sylas animated again and it’s my turn to sit back and watch him interact with them.
He’s light with them. Happy. He laughs a lot and there’s plenty of trash talking and shoulder punches and a hell of a lot of swearing which doesn’t bother me in the least. I like that they’re so comfortable with me there to act like they normally would.
It makes me sad and angry at the same time. Dad doesn’t see these guys like this. To him, they’re pawns. Minions. People he can use to further his goals. I put my father on a pedestal from the time I was young. I believed he was a righteous man, doing good, fighting the good fight. Whatever he did, he did for the good of others. To protect me and to protect other little girls. He was basically Superman without the cape and ridiculous outfit.
My superhero.
It’s completely disorienting to realize that he’s just a man. A man who thinks he’s doing right, even when he might not be. A man who can justify his actions any way he wants.
“Saige?” Sylas says. I realize he’s been speaking to me and I’ve been completely ignoring him.
“Sorry, what?”
“I just asked if you wanted to go.” It’s still early and I’m still dreading going back to the apartment. Even though I’m tired, I’m not ready to leave yet.
“No, I’m fine.” He rubs my shoulder and I can see the question on his face, but he doesn’t say anything further about it.
I lean against him and he tucks me under his arm, holding me close. Hardy hasn’t said a word to me and I can tell he’s watching every move I make. I also know he has a perfect memory, especially where it comes to numbers.
I continue staring at him, not to challenge him, but to let him know that I see him and I’m aware that he doesn’t trust me. That’s fine. He doesn’t have to. I’m not asking for him to adore me.
“I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” I say, getting up. I need a second.
I head for the back where the ladies room is. There’s a line, and I lean against the wall and wait. There’s a tap on my shoulder and I turn around to find Hardy. As I expected. It’s part of the reason (other than needing to pee) I excused myself.
“Hello,” I say, giving him a smile.
“What’s your endgame, Saige?” A few of the other women in line are eavesdropping but neither of us is going to say anything incriminating.
“I love him. That’s it,” I say. “My endgame is to be with him.”
He looks at me for so long, the line moves and the women behind me have to shove me forward. I don’t look away from him. Being stared at by Hardy like this is a bit like being in an x-ray machine. I know he’s going to remember everything I’ve said and every move I’ve made.
He sets his mouth and then nods, walking away without another word. I hope I’ve passed the test he just administered. I turn around and lean back against the wall.
When I get back from the bathroom, I’m exhausted and I still need to study. I tug on Sylas’ shirt, letting him know I’m ready to leave.
“We’re going to head out,” he says, standing and taking my hand. I’m surprised he’s so open about touching me and being affectionate in front of them. I thought he would have reservations about it, but maybe he’s showing them that since he trusts me, they should do.
I get hugs from both Track and Cash and Baz gives me the kind of look that says he’s picturing me naked. Row and Hardy give me nods, but that’s probably as good as it’s going to get from them. Sylas and I head out. In spite of the awful morning, I’m feeling a lot better about everything.
“You did so great, but I knew you would,” he says, giving me a rib-crushing hug before we get in the car.
“I’m so glad you approve,” I say, my voice muffled by his chest. I’m not going to tell him about my little interaction with Hardy unless he asks.
“What did Hardy say to you?” he asks, as if he was reading my mind. He once told me he could read minds, but only those belonging to redheads.
“He just asked me what my endgame is,” I say. “And I told him it was to be with you. Nothing else. Then he studied me for a while, nodded and left me alone. It wasn’t a big deal. They’re all looking out for you. I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t trust me either.”
He frowns and I tap him on the shoulder.
“Hey, it’s okay. I knew what I was going to have to face when I decided I wanted to be with you. Some guys have crazy exes or crazy mothers or other dark secrets. There are obstacles to every relationship and this is one of ours. It’s fine.” I’d be worried if they weren’t apprehensive of me.
He nods and I pull away from the bar.
“They’re protective of you. It’s sweet.” He makes a snorting sound.
“They’re not exactly sweet guys.” That makes me laugh.
“No, they’re really not, but I like them anyway and I like the way you are with them. You’re so happy and you laugh a lot. I feel guilty for taking up so much of your time. I know you used to see them a lot more than you do now.” He turns on the radio and starts drumming a beat on his knee with his hand.
“We didn’t actually meet a whole lot because we didn’t want to draw suspicions,” he says, but I think he’s trying to minimize it for my benefit.
“But you don’t have to do that now. You can see them whenever you want and I don’t want you to think you’re abandoning me to hang out with them. They’re important to you, so they’re important to me.” He takes my hand from the shifter and places a kiss in my palm and then starts massaging it.
“You’re important to me.”
“I know.”
I sigh and he starts softly singing along with the song.
“I thought you couldn’t sing,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
“Quinn couldn’t sing. But I can. My mother had a beautiful voice. She used to sing all the time, especially when she was cleaning. She said it made chores more bearable if you sang. I think I picked it up because I always catch myself singing when I vacuum.” I’ve never noticed. I make a mental note to watch him when he vacuums.
“I knew that was a lie,” I say.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Huh,” he says and then picks up the song again. His voice is beautiful and clear; good enough to be on the radio. In another life he might have been a singer/songwriter or a rock star. I could see him rocking leather pants on stage.