Page 24 of Collared Mate

“Next time I see you, I’m going to kill you,” he declares in front of a room of scandalized diners. With that, he buttons his jacket and stalks out of the restaurant.

After a horrified, frozen moment or two, people rush to help me. I can stand up, because Rick never goes for the legs. My head is ringing, and my arms are going to be bruised from blocking all those rich boy not quite haymakers, but I’ll be fine. My lip is split and my eye is starting to close up, but all in all this isn’t so bad. Could have gone a lot worse.

“I hope you’re okay, sir,” the manager says. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m going to request that you make reservations at alternative restaurants from here on out.”

“You’re banning me, you mean.”

“Both parties are going to be asked to make reservations at alternative venues,” he says, hideously polite.

“I understand,” I tell him. “I’m sorry for the mess. Please send me the bill.”

“We were planning on it, sir,” he says.

My car is waiting for me, as is my 2IC. Hades is Greek, with the fiery temperament to match. He is not well pleased to see the state I am in as we pull away.

“It looks worse than it is,” I say to reassure him.

“You let him do that,” Hades says.

“Yeah.”

“Why? You could have beaten him a dozen times over, with both hands tied behind your back. He’s a sloppy fighter. He did not once protect his head, and he gave you his neck over and over.”

“Sun Tzu,” I tell him. “When strong, appear weak. That sort of shit works incredibly well on Rick because he takes everything at surface value.”

Hades gives me a long stare. “I hope this is going to be worth it. These Swale people seem like a bad time. Bad energy.”

“They’re a little cursed,” I agree. “But when you meet your fated mate, you do what you have to do in order to have her.”

He lets the corner of his lip drift up in what might be a smile. “I guess,” he says. “But tell me we’re going to teach Rick a lesson before this is over.”

* * *

Fiona

I’m having a lovely after lunch nap. The bed is just the right kind of comfy, the room is warm, the way the afternoon sun is filtering through puts me in mind of cozier, happier, safer times…

“Fiona!”

Rick slams in through the front door of the house, stamps upstairs, then throws open the door to my bedroom. The place is big enough that this takes several minutes to happen, and I hear him coming so it’s not like I am surprised or shocked, but I am annoyed.

I sit up, hair tousled, pajamas rumpled. “What’s going on?”

For a moment, he looks so fucking angry I am a little scared to even breathe in his presence.

Then he gathers himself.

“Busy day,” he says. “Sorry. I need you to take an urgent meeting for me. Something’s come up last minute, and I can’t go.”

This is a little weird. Rick never asks me to do anything business related, but maybe he’s going to let me into the family business a little more. That would be amazing. I’d much prefer that to his near constant efforts to get me married off.

“You want me to take it?”

“It’s a meeting with Kyle Browning. See what he wants and action it. It’s about time you started making yourself useful around here anyway.”

He’s pulling off his tie and fixing his hair in the mirror.

I was starting to get suspicious right up until he insulted me for no reason while asking for a favor. That’s classic Rick. Now I’m less worried that he’s pulling some shit, and more worried about why. He doesn’t look right. There’s color in his face that isn’t usually there, and… shit. Bruising on his knuckles. Both sets of them. He’s been punching something. Or someone.