Broderick: A Sabine Valley Novel

by Katee Robert

  Chapter 25

  Shiloh

  I wake up so sore, I could almost convince myself I was tricked into joining one of Maddox’s workouts instead of having hours of intense sex. Then again, Maddox’s workouts never have me aching between my thighs. I’m smiling even as I open my eyes.

  To a very, very bright room.

  Too bright.

  I shoot up. “We’re late.”

  Next to me, Monroe throws an arm over her eyes. Even in my panicked state, I can’t help the pulse of heat that goes through me at the sight of her naked body. She’s so damn sexy, and I might have gotten close and personal with nearly every inch of her last night, but I can’t wait to do it again. Lust is a heady drug, which is the only explanation for how we both managed to sleep in.

  “Monroe.”

  “We’re not late. I had my assistant reschedule the one meeting I had.” She lifts her arm enough to open one eye. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to be able to concentrate today. Let’s stay in bed and have some fun.”

  The pulse of heat inside me gets stronger. It’s oh so tempting to do exactly that, but there are things we really need to discuss. Like the fact that Monroe’s mother wants Broderick dead. As if the thought of him draws my attention, I can’t ignore his presence in this bed any longer. I twist to look at him.

  He’s… Gods, he’s something else.

  Broderick is on his stomach facing away from us. The position gives me an excellent view of his broad back and the reddened scratches marking it. Scratches originating with both me and Monroe. I shiver. The sheet is gathered low on his hips, revealing the upper curve of his ass, and I have the strangest desire to bend down and bite him.

  If last night is anything to go by, doing so will ensure we don’t talk about anything at all for hours. While that’s an attractive solution to avoid uncomfortable topics, I can’t shake the feeling that the moment this stops and we’re forced to separate, Broderick to his duties and Monroe to hers, this fragile truce between them—between us—will end.

  We need to talk some things out before then.

  Still, I can’t help running my hand down Broderick’s spine. There’s a scar beneath his left shoulder blade, a slashing line that must have come from a knife. It’s faded with age, an injury he had long before we met. There are a lot of those to go around.

  He shifts beneath my touch, but the only move he makes is to turn his face to us. “Morning.”

  Monroe sighs and drops her arm. “The fact that Shiloh hasn’t leaped up to sit on my face means we’re talking.”

  He nods against the pillow. “Coffee?”

  “Please.”

  Broderick hefts himself out of bed, and I’m struck speechless all over again at the sight of him naked. His body isn’t perfect. He’s broad and muscular, but the man will never have a six-pack because he just doesn’t give a shit about stuff like that. He pads into the closet, and Monroe nudges me with her knee. “Stop staring at him like that, or he’s going to have an uncomfortable walk down to the kitchen with a giant hard-on. I need my coffee, Shiloh. You know what I’m like before caffeine.”

  Broderick reappears wearing a pair of low-slung lounge pants and nothing else. He shouldn’t look even better with pants on than he did naked, but logic has no reason when it comes to Broderick apparently. Especially now that I’ve had his hands and mouth all over me, his cock deep inside me. He eyes us. “Stay out of trouble until I get back.”

  Monroe stretches, arching her back, and both of us follow the way her breasts bounce just a little with the movement. She grins. “No promises.”

  “Thought not.” He shakes his head, a small smile pulling at the edges of his lips as he leaves the room.

  Dear gods, everything he does it overwhelmingly attractive. I’m in huge trouble. I knew there was no going back last night, but there’s something about having to live with the consequences of my actions that I don’t know how to, well, live with. Broderick is my best friend, and now I know my best friend fucks like a fiend. Now I know that he’s both fierce and playful in turns and absolutely ruthless when it comes to giving pleasure.

  How am I supposed to go back? I laugh a little, though the sound feels forced. “Should we get dressed?”

  Monroe eyes me. “That depends. How likely do you think one of us is going to be to storm out of here before the end of this necessary conversation?”

  That’s a good question. Pretty damn likely, judging from past experiences. I sigh. “At least if everyone is mostly naked, it will take longer to do a dramatic exit.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” She grasps my wrist and tugs. “Come cuddle me until he gets back.”

  I let her pull me down to spoon me, her chest to my back. She wraps her arms around me and hugs me close, burying her face in the back of my neck. “My shampoo smells good on you.”

  “Thanks,” I murmur. Monroe’s been casually touching me since we met, but this feels different. There’s a heaviness to this moment, a weight I’m not sure I’m imagining. “You okay?”

  “Sure.” Her laugh even sounds off. “Just having a small crisis of faith. Hold still, and it will pass.”

  Yeah, no. I twist, and after the slightest hesitation, she allows me to turn in her arms. “What’s wrong?” She tries to lock down her expression, and I’m startled to realize I know her well enough to recognize that. I cup her jaw. “Talk to me.”

  “You’re killing me, love.” She closes her eyes. “It’s nothing for you to be concerned about and nothing you can help with.”

  I should let it go. If Monroe doesn’t need my help, it’s selfish in the extreme to push it on her, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s lying to me. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  I feather my fingers along her temple. So much has changed for me in the past twelve hours, I’m tempted to project those changing feelings onto Monroe. That would be a mistake. She’s not one to let her emotions get the best of her, and whatever her motivations for seeing Broderick and I finally fuck, I don’t think they’re malicious. Not even she’s that cruel. I don’t think. “Are we friends, Monroe?”

  “Friends?” She opens her eyes, and there’s something almost like pain there. “Yes, love, we’re friends.”

  Then she definitely wasn’t motivated by revenge or any darker things last night. I knew that in my gut, and this just confirms it. No matter what else is true of Monroe, she’s fiercely loyal when she decides she cares about someone.

  When she cares about someone. “Monroe—” I don’t have to find the courage to finish that sentence because the bedroom door opens and Broderick comes through. He’s found a little serving tray somewhere, and there are three mugs on it and two little cups.

  Monroe sits ups too fast, almost as if she’s running, and yanks the blankets into some semblance of order so Broderick can set down the tray without spilling. Once he does, I realize the two containers have cream and sugar in them, respectively. He catches me looking and shrugs. “Easier this way.” Without another word, he doses one mug heavily with both cream and sugar and passes it to me. I take a sip and, no surprise, it’s perfect.

  Broderick glances at Monroe. “Cream? Sugar?”

  “I can make my own coffee.” She’s got that same strange look on her face, and the sentence comes out almost like a question.

  “No one is arguing that you’re not capable of doing it. Now answer the damn question.”

  “Sugar,” she murmurs.

  We both watch Broderick dose her coffee with sugar and pass it to her. Monroe stares into her cup for a long moment. “Did you poison it?”

  “No, Monroe, I didn’t poison it.” He’s got that fond little smile curving his lips again. This is the Broderick I know, the steady friend who cares about everyone around him. I’ve never seen him look at Monroe like that, though.

  The warmth in my chest gets stronger. There’s nowhere for it to go, though. I sip my coffee and try to pretend my heart isn’t beating to
o hard with things unsaid. There are no words I can utter to change our situation and, more importantly, right now, in this moment, things are working.

  These two people are more than tolerating each other. It might be the sex, it might be me, it might be a million other reasons, but I’m not about to question it or do something to cause them to go for each other’s throats again. Especially if it’s just to prove the point that they seem to actually like each other right now.

  They’re both stubborn enough to start a fight for the pure principle of it. I refuse to be the one to light that match.

  Still, this peace won’t hold if outside forces get their way. I stare hard at Monroe until she sighs and lowers her coffee mug. “My mother somehow learned that Abel intends to kill me if I don’t stop embarrassing you publicly.”

  “That’s not what he said.” Broderick’s voice is mild, but tension bleeds into his body. “How did she find out?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it? Because I didn’t tell her.” She catches his disbelieving look and snorts. “We both know I was handling the situation. Informing my mother of a threat against me is like keying in the codes for a nuclear launch in response to a knife fight. It’s poor planning, and I wouldn’t have done it unless I had no other option.”

  I wait to see if Broderick will argue that, but he nods. “Makes sense. So someone else did it.”

  There it is again, that sensation of pieces clicking into place, of Broderick and Monroe aligning themselves in the same direction. I clear my throat. “Broderick—”

  “Hold on. I’m thinking.” I can practically see his mind whirling. Finally, he nods. “So we have a mole.”

  “I expect we have several between the two factions.” They both look at me, and I have to fight not to roll my eyes. “Come on. Give me a little credit. We have informants in both the Mystics and the Amazons. Of course they’ve already set up the same.”

  Monroe perks up at that. “Who are you informants in the Amazons?”

  “Nice try,” Broderick says drily. “That still doesn’t explain how they found out about Abel threatening Monroe. It’s not exactly something he did publicly. We were in the hallway, and the only other person present was Eli.” He catches my look and shrugs. “He has no reason to run telling tales to the Amazon queen. He’s wearing Abel’s leash and happily.”

  “In the hallway,” I repeat.

  “There are dozens of people in this house, Broderick.” Monroe scoots back to lean against the headboard, her expression contemplative. “Fallon is running off to her father every day. She might have heard and passed it on. That’s probably the simplest answer.”

  That’s not impossible, but it’s missing quite a large step from where I’m sitting. “But why would he convey that information to your mother? They’re enemies.”

  “Precisely because they’re enemies. If she follows through on her threat—which was to kill you, Broderick—that would create a nasty conflict between Raiders and Amazons. In a situation like that, that Mystics emerge on top. War is bad for business and bad for power cumulation, though everyone believes otherwise.” She sips her coffee. “There’s a reason the faction territory lines haven’t changed since the inception of Sabine Valley. The river creates too good a natural barrier. In the past, even when factions have taken pieces, they never hold them. You’d have to take the entire faction, and that’s impossible.”

  The people living there wouldn’t go for it, for one. The only reason Abel managed a mostly bloodless coup was because he operated within the rules of Lammas and the Paine family was here long before Eli’s father took over. Not to mention Abel smoothed things over and promised not to rock the boat beyond the compound. That wouldn’t work in any other territory.

  There’s just one thing that doesn’t make sense. “How would Fallon even find out? Were one of the Mystics around when you spoke with Abel?”

  “No.” Broderick narrows his eyes. “But I talked to Ezekiel not long after. Maybe Beatrix heard something.”

  This is all getting very convoluted. “Ultimately it doesn’t matter how Monroe’s mother found out. We still have to deal with it.”

  “There’s nothing to deal with.” Broderick sips his coffee. “We figured things out.”

  “Cute, but that won’t stop my mother.” Monroe closes her eyes. For the first time since I’ve met her, she looks exhausted and stressed. “If she thinks there’s the slightest danger to me, she’ll act.”

  I stare. “Even at the expense of the faction?”

  “It won’t be at the expense of the faction.” Her smile is mirthless. “We’re better prepared than you are. That’s not me being an asshole; that’s facts. The Raider faction is three weeks and a few days into a regime change. No matter how easily Abel managed it, that still destabilizes things. You brought your own force into Sabine Valley, and they haven’t had a chance to integrate with the locals properly. You’re outgunned and outmanned.”

  Broderick doesn’t move. “There will still be a high cost on the Amazon side of things.”

  “Yes, there will. Which is why I can’t allow it to happen.”

  “But…”

  Monroe’s voice goes soft. “Who do you think will be the first person harmed if things go sideways? It won’t be me, Broderick. It will be Winry or Jasper. My mother might be willing to gamble with their safety, but I’m not. We can’t conclusively figure out how my mother got her information, but in the end it changes nothing about our plan.”

  It certainly seems like the only person Aisling will move heaven and earth to protect is Monroe. She wouldn’t threaten me otherwise. The truth coming out about my parents won’t change anything on the grand scale in Sabine Valley. They only had the faintest bit of power in the Amazons, let alone in the entire city.

  No, the only person who will care is Monroe. It will potentially damage her relationship with her mother, and that’s something Aisling is willing to kill to prevent.

  It’s sweet in a really fucked up sort of way.

  This is better, though. If I keep Monroe and Broderick focused on putting on a show that will protect both of them, they will stop worrying so much about my past. “What do we do? I’m assuming you have something resembling a plan.”

  Monroe flips her hair over her shoulder. “The same thing we’ve been doing, love. We fuck and we play, and we let everyone know we’re getting along swimmingly. We give the faction leaders no reason to get involved.”

  Chapter 26

  Broderick

  I thought taking the time to go get coffee would be the break I needed to get my head on straight. It didn’t work. Sitting here on this bed with two of the most beautiful women I’ve ever encountered, having a conversation that doesn’t involve arguing for once…

  It’s enough to make me want things I’m not sure are meant for me.

  Monroe stretches. The sheet is bunched at her waist, leaving her breasts bare, and combined with the cute way Shiloh has the covers nearly tucked to her chin, my heart gives an uncomfortable lurch.

  I care about Shiloh. Fuck, I love her. I have for a very long time.

  I didn’t expect to care about Monroe, too.

  It’s not love. That would be ludicrous. Not simply because she’s the enemy, but because just a few days ago, we were at each other’s throats. I can admire her strength and cunning and beauty without being in love with her. I can enjoy how seamlessly we work together when we’re focused on accomplishing the same thing without my emotions getting involved. No matter how much I enjoy her in my bed, ultimately sex changes nothing.

  At least in theory.

  I clear my throat. “I don’t know if it will be enough to fuck and frolic or whatever the hell you just said.”

  “As long as we’re moving in the right direction, neither your brother nor my mother will jump the gun.” Monroe shrugs. “War is bad for everyone, and they’re not going to dive headfirst into it if there’s another option. We need to be convincing enough to prove there’s an
other option.”

  Shiloh pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “What if you’re wrong?”

  “I’m not.”

  “You say that so confidently, I almost believe you.”

  “You should.” I clear my throat. “She’s not wrong.” I know Abel. He might give the impression of being a barbarian brute, but there’s a reason we’d all follow him to hell and back without complaint. He’s too savvy to do something he can’t take back just for the sake of doing it. “Depending on how we play things, it should negate the current danger.”

  Shiloh curses. “Fine. What’s the plan, then?”

  Monroe drains the last of her coffee and slides out of the bed. “Since we have an off day, let’s have some fun.”

  Shiloh shakes her head. “Fun isn’t going to get both of you out of the crosshairs.”

  “Silly girl, I’m not talking about fucking.” Monroe grins suddenly. “Though we can do more of that later, if you like. I want to visit Old Town.”

  Now it’s my turn to narrow my eyes. “There’s a reason we haven’t let you run rampant all over the faction, Monroe.” Though if there’s a mole—or several moles—in the compound itself, it removes some of those reasons. And with her going to Amazon territory every weekday, it’s not as if she can’t slip information to her people whenever she feels like it. Still… “It’s not safe.”

  No matter how formidable she is, she’s still an Amazon in Raider territory. A single woman. There are plenty of people in our faction—especially in Old Town—who hate both Amazons and Mystics and won’t hesitate to take that hate out on Monroe, deserved or not.

  “Are you worried about me?” For once, the question doesn’t have a mocking lilt to it. Monroe stares at me like she’s never seen me before. Before I can come up with a response, her expression clears. “Oh, of course not. If I die, it puts you right back into the fire with war.”