Maxwell's POV
After about thirty minutes of catching up with Kennedy, I excused myself.
"Give me a moment," I said, standing from the couch. "I need to check on something in my bedroom."
Kennedy nodded, refilling his whiskey. "Take your time. I'll be here."
But the truth was, I wasn't comfortable anymore.
Olivia and her best friend had been upstairs for way too long. And when those two were together, God only knew what kind of trouble they could get into.
Olivia alone, I could manage. I'd spent time studying her - learning her tells, predicting her moves, understanding how her mind worked. Her expressions were terrible at hiding her feelings, which made her beautifully transparent to someone who knew what to look for.
But Kira? Kira was a wildcard. I didn't know her patterns, couldn't predict what she might convince Olivia to do.
And right now, my most precious possession was sitting upstairs, vulnerable to whatever scheme they might be cooking up.
