Page 57 of When She Needs Them Most
My eyes narrow as my mind files through ways to slaughter Lincoln. They’re fucking bonded. How did he not sense her getting closer?
I fist my hands in my lap to keep from propelling myself off the couch.
“Sweetheart,” Linc says in a soothing voice as he prowls closer.
The little omega holds up a palm. “I’d appreciate it if you would stay right there while you answer my question.”
My fucking heart skips a beat.
Jesus Christ, this is bad.
Most people don’t have a variety of contract killers on speed dial. And Linc straight up said he would handle it himself…
So bad.
A complete fucking mess.
Arden pushes himself off the couch. “You’re pregnant and already under a tremendous amount of stress. All we hoped to do was to alleviate some of those worries.”
“By murdering multiple people, including the only living relative my daughter has on her father’s side?” Chelsea asks dubiously.
Fuck.
“That is a good point. We could need him for an organ or bone marrow or something one day.” I point to assure her I’m on the same page. “I’m pretty sure we can find someone to house him indefinitely. It’ll take a little digging, because I don’t know anyone off the top of my head, and that’s going to be significantly pricier. We might have to take a contract or two a year to keep up with his containment costs if you want him kept alive, but it’s no big deal. We just talked about scaling those back, so we could be home with you and Luna all year round.” I smile, nodding and hoping she understands we’ll do whatever she prefers.
It’s totally her call.
Arden and Lincoln both turn, glaring daggers at me, and I realize pretty quickly that I misread that situation.
Goddammit.
Chelsea takes a step toward the door. “I think I’m going to stay at my house tonight.”
“Sweetheart,” Linc says in a pained tone. “You still don’t have heat. Or groceries.”
“Yeah, I still think I need a bit of space.” She freezes, pointing a thumb toward the stairs. “Right after I grab my keys and phone.”
Arden makes a strangled sound. “Lincoln is right. That house is barely livable. Please, if you’re uncomfortable being around the three of us, how about you stay here, and we’ll sleep over there?”
“We bonded,” Linc says, sounding hurt.
“Right,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “So, clearly, I’m not breaking up with you.” Her nose wrinkles, right along with her forehead. “Not that we ever really had a conversation about exclusivity.”
“We would never hurt you or the baby,” I say, because I feel like she needs to hear that.
Her head tilts, and she gives me a soft smile. “I believe you. Things have just been moving kinda fast, and I think it wouldn’t hurt if I spent a night or two at my house.”
Jesus fucking Christ. I’m going to have to break in and sleep on the floor in her bedroom, only to make sure I’m gone by the time she wakes up.
That, or lock her inside our house until she gives birth. I’m going to guess that wouldn’t do us any favors.
Linc frowns so deeply, his forehead wrinkles. “If it’s that big of a deal, we can let it go. Honestly, all we were trying to do was to look out for you. You never know when that asshole could show up.”
Chelsea’s shoulders slump, and she takes a few steps forward, giving him a hug. “I can feel your misery in the bond,and I hate it. I’m also not going to ignore bad behavior, likeplotting murderby allowing it to be swept under the rug.”
Arden sighs heavily. “Perhaps if we were to tell you a little about the types of people our contracts are for, it would help you understand that we aren’t a danger to society.” He gestures to the sofa.
When did he become the studious one?
