Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
I appreciate being heard more than he knows. Once we’ve helped everyone and cleared the line, Ben crosses his arms, his attention still plastered to the rowdiest Yankees fans in the back corner.
“Why’d you want them to stay?” he asks now, his gaze finally pulling off them and dropping to me.
“It’s the path of least resistance.” I trash an empty bottle of Smirnoff. “Ever heard of it?”
“No,” he says with a tight shake of the head. “I’m very much willing to walk the road of conflict if it means kicking those motherfuckers”—he shoots a glare at them—“off the path your feet are on.”
“I saved you the trouble, Friend. They’re fine.”
He exhales a long, long breath through his nose. “You probably came from a place where you couldn’t risk putting your neck on the line, but I didn’t. So letting him sit there—it’s not easy for me, but I’m doing it this time for you. Next time, know that you can boot him, and the consequences will not be as harsh as you think. You won’t lose the fight.”
I am used to suffering through whatever shitty moment is occurring, letting it pass with quiet resignation. The times I snark back, I’m more ready for things to go south. The situation rarely gets better. “You really think this is worse? They’re not even paying attention to me anymore.”
“We’ve left a ticking bomb in the back of the bar,” is all he says before the door swings open, and Ben straightens to an even stiffer stance when Charlie, Eliot, and Tom come striding through.
The Cobalt brothers found the End of the World.
39
HARRIET FISHER
Ghostbusters sounds painfully loud as chatter falls hushed in the bar. Whispers and gasps of, “is that Charlie Cobalt?” and “those are the Cobalt brothers, look, look” are heard.
None of Ben’s brothers ham it up for attention. They act like the bar only consists of me and Ben as they plant their asses on the barstools. Very rarely are these stools occupied. The projector screen faces the opposite wall, and the actual stools themselves are so wobbly, I’m shocked they maintain composure and don’t teeter even slightly.
Cobalts are just fucking built different. I’d be aggravated if I wasn’t a teensy bit jealous and honestly happy they’re even here. They haven’t given up on reeling Ben closer, and at times, I do wonder if he’ll stay in New York longer for them—even if maybe he won’t be living with them.
“Ben Pirrip,” Tom bows forward, forearms on the bar. “This is really where you want to be at the end of the world?”
“Without us?” Eliot feigns hurt, his grin appearing soon after. “How dare you, brother.”
Charlie says nothing. He pounds a pack of cigarettes on the bar.
“What are you doing here?” Ben asks them, already worked up from Beefy Dude. Their arrival isn’t ridding the steam from his ears.
Eliot flicks out a lighter. “We heard it’s Harriet’s birthday, so we’re gifting her with our presence.”
“Gee, thanks,” I say flatly, but inside, I am elated. Best b-day present would be Ben’s brothers convincing him to stick around indefinitely. Hands-down. Sorry to my new choker necklace.
Tom forces out a winced smile at me, and I force a grimaced one back. Our attention veers to Eliot when he asks Ben, “Better question, what are you doing here?”
“Bartending.”
“For money?” Charlie asks, almost disinterestedly.
“No, for funsies.” Ben is in a grouchy mood. They can tell, probably since this brand of sarcasm isn’t his usual approach. “I’m guessing Audrey told you I work here?”
Tom steals a cocktail stirrer. “Dude, whatever you tell her, she will spread like gangrene until it comes back and infects you and then you’ll need Pre-Med Harry, here, to check you out,” Tom waves a hand at me. “Which is worse than the actual infection.”
I cross my arms. “So you’re saying Audrey would fulfill my ultimate birthday wish and kill you?”
Eliot grabs his brother’s shoulders in a playful gesture of protection. Tom’s jaw has unhinged, until he sees Ben’s slow-forming smile, and then Tom smiles victoriously as if he was the one who flipped Ben’s mood and made him grin.
No, that was me. I did that.
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t save me, great,” Tom slips the cocktail stirrer between his lips. “The feeling is mutual.” Ben is frowning now, and Tom quickly adds, “But I’d still call upon you so do with that what you will, Harry.”
“You knew Audrey would tell us,” Charlie states plainly to Ben, redirecting this conversation.
“Eventually, I figured she might. It’s not a big secret I work here. I just didn’t want that to constantly be around.” His gaze drifts beyond his brothers, but none of them turn to look to understand what “that” means.
People have whipped out their phones to snap pics and record videos of them. I notice their bodyguards making rounds around the bar. Ben said some of his brothers will have strangers sign NDAs and delete footage if they’re being filmed outside of a public space.