Page 48 of Oathbreaker

Though at least Royal’s is edging away from irritated.

Instead, his blue eyes are shrouded, as though he’s preparing for something.

Well, the man better.

Because I’m about to tell them something that will make them incredibly unhappy.

Or…maybe not?

Maybe, like Banks, they already know, and just didn’t want to say anything?

Maybe—

“Well?” Dash demands.

“Well, what?” I ask.

“Well,” Atlas says, waving an impatient hand, “where the fuck is she?”

Watching my daughter so I can tell you guys I banged your best friend and got knocked up, and funny story, that’s why we’re all here tonight, folks!

Which is a thought I’m keeping in my head.

Deep in my head.

“Thorny,” Royal says and though it’s calm, there’s a note of impatience there. “Talk to us.”

“Right,” I whisper. Then exhale and focus. “I need to tell you guys something.”

And great…more tension.

It swirls through the air like an almost palpable force, clenching at my throat, my stomach, clawing its way through my insides.

“Can we all sit down?” I say.

Atlas crosses his arms but, for the record, doesn’t move, just glares at me.

Dash adopts a similar expression, though he does it with his hands on his hips.

Royal studies me for a long moment—eyes unreadable—then sighs quietly and sinks down into the chair he always sits at when we come to the Sapphire Room.

“Guys,” he says when Atlas and Dash don’t move (probably because they don’t want anything to do with Colt), and though they go into a long standoff with glares exchanged all around, eventually they move to the table and sit down.

I don’t miss that Atlas sets the black leather cocktail menu sitting at its center on its side.

Covering the plaque with Colt’s name on it.

Oh, this is so not going to go well.

But I need to do it.

And the best way to deal with tough shit is to put my head down and just…get down to it.

So, I shore my spine, take another fortifying breath, and get down to it.

“I should have told you guys this a long time ago,” I say quietly, glancing at each of them in turn before I direct my gaze down to my hands, searching for the right words, trying to choose them carefully. “I…at first I didn’t know why I so stubbornly kept the truth close to my chest, except that it felt like one of the few things in the world that was mine and mine alone.” I suck in a breath, release it slowly. “If I told anyone, if the truth came out, then it wouldn’t just be mine anymore.” My throat goes tight, eyes burning, and I have to push the next words out. “And if it wasn’t just mine a-anymore th-then?—”

God!