“It’s okay,” Solana says, but all the while, she’s glaring at Judge. “We’ll come back tomorrow. But text me tonight so I know you’re okay.”

Judge doesn’t miss her inference, and Georgie shoots him a sharp look too. I feel like I should defuse this situation before things get any worse, but Judge doesn’t give me a chance. He grabs me by the arm and hauls me from the room, calling out for Lois to escort my guests out. I give them one last fleeting glance before we turn the corner, and Judge is snapping at me again.

“I told you to be ready for this afternoon.”

“I am.” I try to yank my arm out of his grasp, but his hold is too tight. “Jesus, what’s the big deal? I thought we were just going to a Society event. Why is Santi coming here?”

He doesn’t answer me as he drags me into my old room and plunks me onto the chair. His eyes are wild as they move around the space as if he’s only now realizing none of my stuff is in here.

“Stay put,” he demands.

I frown at his retreating form and then promptly disobey him by scurrying over to the bed to hide the small burner phone Solana and Georgie brought me. There’s enough time to stuff it under the pillow before I hear Judge’s footsteps, and I dash back to the chair. He enters the room right as I’m recrossing my legs, eyes me suspiciously, and then starts to offload some of my things.

I stare at him like he’s lost his mind as he tosses a few dresses onto the bed, a necklace onto the table, and one of my books onto the nightstand. And then it all falls into place. Is this why he’s so out of sorts? Because he’s terrified Santiago will realize Judge has been fucking me every night in his bedroom? The realization stings, but then, when doesn’t it? Everything Judge dishes out comes with a side of pain.

“I suppose it wouldn’t do to have him see I’m sleeping in your bed every night?” I observe bitterly.

“No, it wouldn’t fucking do,” he clips out.

God, he really is in a mood today. And now I am too. So much so that even when Santi appears a moment later, hovering in the doorway, I can’t seem to wipe the irritation from my face. He sees it, frowns, and then looks at Judge.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Judge grits out. “I’m just trying to get Mercedes ready.”

I shoot him another withering glance at that lie, but he acts like he doesn’t notice. Santi, however, definitely does, and the disappointment on his face is clear.

“Are you causing problems?”