Discarded Housewife, Chosen by Her Protector novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: The Rule

Ronan gives Iris one rule, Ansel orders her to come home and Sable growls instead of obeying; Ansel's text says the twins stay with him unless she comes to the guest house by Sunday.

Ronan Tavish did not squeeze my hand or tell me it would be all right.

He took his hand back as soon as I stopped shaking.

"My car is outside," he said. "I have one rule. You decide where it goes."

"Why would you do that?" I asked.

"Because nobody has asked you tonight where you want to go."

My throat tightened, because he was right.

My purse held my phone and a lipstick, and my keys opened a house I no longer lived in.

My driver belonged to Ansel, and so did my coat.

"The Marlow Hotel on Fifth," I said. "I'll take a cab."

"My car is faster," Ronan said. "Your call."

I nodded.

Behind us the ballroom doors banged open.

Two men from the Blackwater pack came out first, big men in dark suits, and Ansel came after them.

He had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, and his face was calm and sorry, the face he wore for the board.

"Iris," he said. "Let's not do this in a lobby."

"There's nothing left to do," I said.

"You're upset. That's fair." He stepped closer. "Come home tonight. Lorna will keep the children quiet, and we'll sort out the guest house in the morning."

"I signed. It's done."

"It isn't done until I say it's done."

His voice dropped low, and I felt the old pull in my chest.

I had felt it for six years whenever he said my name in that tone, and I had always thought it was love.

"Iris," he said. "Come here."

My feet did not move.

Sable stood up inside me, slow and heavy.

She did not whine and she did not say wait.

She growled, low and long, and the sound went through my ribs.

Ansel stopped talking.

I watched his eyes drop to mine, and I knew what he saw, because the glass door beside him showed my face.

For one second my eyes were gold.

His mouth opened, and every drop of color left his face.

"Not here," he said, very quietly, almost to himself. "We'll talk tomorrow."

One of his men took a step toward me.

Ronan did not move, and he did not raise his voice.

"She said she's leaving," he said.

"This is pack business," the man said. "Stay out of it, Alpha or not."

"She isn't pack, and she isn't property," Ronan said. "If you touch her, I'll treat it as an insult to Redfern, and I'll treat it that way in front of every Alpha at that table."

The man stepped back.

He looked at Ansel, and Ansel nodded stiffly.

"Take her," he said to Ronan, in a voice that tried to sound bored. "She'll be back by Sunday."

"Why Sunday?" I asked.

He did not answer me.

Ronan put his hand lightly at my back, not touching, just there in the air, and walked me through the glass doors.

The night air was cold on my bare arms.

His car was a dark truck at the curb, and he opened the passenger door and waited.

I climbed in.

He shut it gently and walked around to his side.

My phone buzzed on my lap.

It was Ansel.

I read it twice.

"Joey and June stay with me. You've never been their legal guardian. Lorna's lawyer says a judge will agree. Come to the guest house by Sunday and you can see them. Don't, and you won't."

Ronan got in and glanced at the screen, and I turned it face down against my knee.

"You didn't ask to read it," I said.

"I didn't read it."

"You looked."

"I looked at your face," he said. "That was enough."

The truck was warm, and it smelled of pine smoke.

Down in my chest Sable was circling and circling, and I did not know yet whether she was angry for me or glad.

"Where to?" Ronan asked.

I stared at the hotel's lit sign down the street, and at the black windows of a house that was not mine.

"Not the Marlow," I said. "Somewhere Ansel can't find me by Sunday."

"Then I know where," Ronan said, and he started the engine.

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