Page 86 of Tangled Like Us

“A test for what?” Maximoff asks.

“To see how well they can follow orders. And to make sure they’re not here for fame and access to your family. If they complain or push back, we don’t let them through.”

Maximoff knows this isn’t security at a music festival. It’s 24/7, high-level close protection to American royalty. Some of us might be young, some of us might act like friends, but we’reonmore than we’reoff.

Vigilant, always.

“It’s not for the weak-willed,” I tell him.

His shoulders square. “That doesn’t explain the 19k versus a pancake breakfast.” He scrunches his face. “Were you just going easy on Donnelly?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I observed some of Donnelly and Farrow’s training, and it was clear toallthe leads that those two were tight. To the point where Donnelly would probably slit his own fucking throat for his friend.” I lift my shoulders. “But one was from my side of town and had no issues taking orders. The other was Farrow.”

Maximoff thinks hard, brows cinched. Processing.

I keep going. “I knew if I asked Donnelly to run a 19k, he’d do it backwards, blindfolded, crawling on the fucking ground. The hardest thing for him isn’t physical or mental exertion in harsh conditions—it’s being told to sit down and eat celebratory pancakes knowing Farrow is about to go bust his ass in the pitch-black night.”

We were seeing if Donnelly would complain. If he would ask or fight to be with Farrow. Spend two seconds back-talking, and that’s two seconds you’re not paying attention to what’s important.

Their lives.

Our duty.

We could tell Donnelly hated it, but he did what he was told and never pushed back on the leads.

Farrow passed easily.

I rake my fingers through my hair, curling strands behind my ears. “Look, I can see how Farrow would think I was singling him out. A 19k in the dark, in the mountains, alone with no real path to follow—that was unlike anything we’ve ordered a bodyguard to do on their first day. But we had to make it hard on Donnelly to sit back.”

Maximoff nods. “I get that. But why not just tell Farrow all of this later on?”

“Farrow and I don’t talk, and like you said, he didn’t care enough about it to ask.” This might be the most I’ve ever said to Maximoff in one sitting.

Words start to pass out of my head. I don’t know what else to say.

That’s all I’ve got.

Everything else feels extraneous.

Maximoff takes a deeper breath, his shoulders loosening a fraction. “Why did you tase Farrow?”

This,I expected. “Farrow thinks it wasn’t an accident,” I state, already knowing. Farrow has told me as much. He couldn’t believe that I’d fuck-up that badly and tase him.

But I did, and I’ve taken full ownership of that mistake.

I was assigned Jane’s mom that day. Just for extra security. It was after a photo shoot for Forbes, and Farrow was leading Lily back to the car while Rose was being heckled.

The target wasn’t backing down, and there were enough people pushing from behind that it created a major problem.

Protocol:don’t draw a weapon in crowds.

I thought I had a clear shot. I broke the rule because it wasn’t a gun. It was a taser. The range was shorter and not deadly.

I still remember my line of sight. Zeroed in on the target. As soon as I took the shot, Farrow came out of nowhere and cold-cocked him. The taser hit my guy instead.

It was one of the worst days of my career.

“I fucked it,” I tell Maximoff. “I thought I had the shot.”