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musty in the room. A few more breaths and I know what I need to do—the exact opposite of what I want to do.

Talk to Broderick.

It doesn’t matter if he’s acting like a stranger right now. He’s my best friend. We just need to sit down and hash it out. Sure, we’ve never really had an argument before, but we’ve had difficult conversations in the past, have trusted each other with things we don’t talk about generally.

I know how worried he gets for his brothers, especially during dangerous missions, despite the fact that you’d never realize just looking at him. A side-effect of what they survived the last time they were in this godsforsaken city.

He knows about my past. Oh, not where I’m from and not the horrific details. But he knows my parents were monsters who committed monstrous acts on the one person they should have protected.

If we can talk about those subjects without flinching, we should be able to talk about Monroe without devolving into a screaming fight.

Right?

Once I decide on a course of action, I don’t like to wait, so I head back downstairs. Broderick won’t be in the room he’s supposed to share with Monroe. He avoids it at all cost; even his clothes are kept somewhere else. I intend to figure out where.

I find Gabriel near where he was when I came in. Now that I think about it, it’s weird that he’s lingering near the entrance. I narrow my eyes. “What are you up to?” He’s only a couple years younger than me, but as both the youngest and the sweetest of the Paine brothers, he’s often treated as the baby of group. I don’t know why they gave him Fallon as a Bride. She’s so cold, she’s liable to torment him just for the sake of watching him squirm.

He’s squirming now and trying to look like he isn’t. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

He glances away, giving me a view of a jawline that’s nearly identical to Broderick’s. Not that I need the reminder that they’re brothers. The Paines fall into two categories—dark-haired or dark-eyed and ginger. Only Abel, Broderick, and Gabriel are the former. The rest of them have variations of Cohen’s red hair. “Gabriel.”

“I’m waiting for Finnegan and Iris to get back from patrol so I can leave.”

After the conflict with Abel and Eli’s people that ended with Eli being shot, Abel has strict rules about the Paines leaving the compound. One of which is that they aren’t to do it alone. “Who are you going with?”

Gabriel blushes and looks away again. “Is there something you need?”

After a brief internal debate, I finally say, “Take someone with you. I don’t care who. Your brothers will tear this city apart if something happens to you because you’re off chasing sex with someone who isn’t your Bride.” Not that I can blame him, exactly. Fallon is gorgeous, but she’s terrifying.

There are a lot of terrifying people in this house these days.

“I’ll be safe.” Which isn’t the same thing as taking someone with him or being careful. “I’m not going far.”

I take a deep breath. When it comes down to it, Gabriel is twenty-eight and more than capable of handling himself in a fight. “You’ll stay in Raider territory?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t planning on crossing either river.” He gives me a charming smile. “Though I have to ask—how’s that glass house look from where you’re standing? Monroe’s color looks good on you, Shiloh.”

Fuck. I forgot I still had remnants of her lipstick on my face. “Yeah, yeah.” I adjust my ponytail. “Did Broderick make it back?”

“Not yet.”

I thought he was right behind me when I left the bar, but maybe he and Monroe ended up fighting…or fucking. I poke at the thought, trying to decide how I feel about that. I have no claim on the woman. I don’t want a claim. I like what we did in the bathroom, but ultimately she’s not for me.

And Broderick?

He’s not for me, either. He couldn’t be clearer that he only sees me as a friend, and I value that friendship too much to ruin it by confessing that I regularly masturbate to the fantasy of him. My skin flushes hot, and I have to put that thought away. It serves no purpose here.

I clear my throat. “Do you know where he’s sleeping these days?”

“Oh. That.” Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Third floor, south hall. One of the rooms that Abel decided we didn’t need to worry about yet. He cleaned it up, and he’s been camping up there like Rochester’s wife in the attic.”

“Nice literary reference,” I murmur.

Gabriel blushes harder. “I read.”

“I know.” I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve found him reading on watch over the years when we were occupying hostile territory in one city or another. I clasp his shoulder. “Be careful, okay?”

“You, too.”

I head back to the stairs and climb up to the third floor. As tempting as it is to take a shower and gather my wits about me, the truth is that I don’t trust my courage to hold if I don’t keep up this momentum.

It doesn’t take me long to find Broderick’s room. As Gabriel said, Abel decided early on to confine people’s rooms to the second floor. The better to keep track of all the Brides. Now that he has Harlow, one of his Brides, wrangling the others, it’s made everyone’s job a bit easier. Still, with the barracks in the compound to house the rest of our people, there just hasn’t been a huge need to mess with the third floor.

At least Broderick’s room isn’t covered in dust like the one Cohen dragged me to. I resist the urge to poke around and simply perch on the edge of the bed and wait for him. Now that my anger isn’t driving me, I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing. I want to tell him off, but… Why? Yes, he was a jerk for trying to tell me who I can and

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