THE SYNDICATES

RAVEN SCOTT
 CONTENTS

Theo
1. Illya
2. Illya
3. Illya
4. Illya
5. Theo
6. Illya
7. Theo
8. Illya
9. Illya
10. Illya
11. Theo
12. Illya
13. Illya
14. Theo
15. Illya
16. Illya
17. Illya
18. Theo
19. Theo
20. Illya
21. Illya
22. Theo
23. Illya
24. Theo
25. Illya
26. Illya
27. Theo
28. Illya
29. Theo
30. Illya
31. Theo
32. Illya
33. Theo
34. Illya
35. Theo
36. Illya
37. Illya
38. Theo
39. Illya
40. Illya
41. Theo
42. Illya
43. Illya
44. Illya
45. Illya
Carlyle
1. Carlyle
2. Carlyle
3. Carlyle
4. Valerie
5. Carlyle
6. Valerie
7. Carlyle
8. Carlyle
9. Valerie
10. Carlyle
11. Valerie
12. Carlyle
13. Carlyle
14. Valerie
15. Carlyle
16. Valerie
17. Carlyle
18. Valerie
19. Carlyle
20. Valerie
21. Valerie
22. Carlyle
23. Valerie
24. Carlyle
25. Valerie
26. Valerie
27. Carlyle
28. Carlyle
29. Valerie
30. Valerie
31. Carlyle
32. Valerie
33. Valerie
34. Valerie
35. Valerie
36. Carlyle
37. Valerie
38. Carlyle
39. Carlyle
40. Valerie
41. Carlyle
42. Valerie
43. Valerie
44. Carlyle
Erik
1. Natasha
2. Natasha
3. Natasha
4. Erik
5. Natasha
6. Erik
7. Natasha
8. Erik
9. Erik
10. Natasha
11. Natasha
12. Erik
13. Natasha
14. Natasha
15. Erik
16. Natasha
17. Erik
18. Natasha
19. Natasha
20. Erik
21. Natasha
22. Natasha
23. Erik
24. Natasha
25. Erik
26. Natasha
27. Natasha
28. Erik
29. Natasha
30. Erik
31. Erik
32. Natasha
33. Erik
34. Natasha
35. Erik
36. Natasha
37. Erik
38. Erik
39. Natasha
40. Natasha
41. Natasha
Oran
1. Oran
2. Oran
3. Oran
4. Oran
5. May
6. May
7. Oran
8. Oran
9. May
10. May
11. Oran
12. May
13. Oran
14. May
15. Oran
16. May
17. May
18. Oran
19. May
20. May
21. Oran
22. May
23. Oran
24. May
25. Oran
26. May
27. May
28. Oran
29. May
30. May
31. Oran
32. May
33. May
34. Oran
35. May
36. May
37. Oran
38. May
39. May
40. Oran
41. May
42. Oran
43. Oran
Mateo
1. Mateo
2. Mateo
3. Lucy
4. Mateo
5. Lucy
6. Mateo
7. Lucy
8. Mateo
9. Lucy
10. Lucy
11. Mateo
12. Lucy
13. Mateo
14. Lucy
15. Mateo
16. Lucy
17. Mateo
18. Mateo
19. Lucy
20. Lucy
21. Mateo
22. Lucy
23. Mateo
24. Lucy
25. Mateo
26. Lucy
27. Lucy
28. Mateo
29. Lucy
30. Mateo
31. Lucy
Theo
1

Illya
Counting my tips carefully, I set my bills in order from most crumpled to
least, ascending, and a tiny smirk quirked my lips. The notes had obviously
seen too much of the inside of a wallet, but I wasn’t complaining because
they’d go right into my saving’s jar at home. A pleasantness spread across
my chest, but I knew this feeling would only last until Saturday night when
my patrons realized they had to go to church on Sunday. They’d start feeling
guilty for going to a strip club, buy their wives nice flowers, get their kids a
football, and act like they hadn’t seen their pastor here the night before.
Which was ironic and kinda sad and pathetic, but, hey, it was money in
my pocket.
Immorality at its finest.
“Illya, mija, I thought you would be gone by now.” Roge’s thick Mexican
accent slithered up my spine, and I turned away from my money to smile at
him. Short and squat, his beady eyes watched me intently from deep in his
face. It wasn’t surprising to me a man like him surrounded himself with hot,
half-naked chicks half his age. He treated all the girls like a creepy step-dad
that wanted to bang us but also innocently take us out for ice cream if we
were upset. “Don’t you ride a bike? It’s late.”
His roughened and textured skin from years of the sun and age wrinkled
when he smiled, and Roge’s narrowed eyes scanned me under furrowed,
bushy brows. I knew what Roge would see— some plank of a body topped in
dyed pink hair that brought out the green in my eyes. I have curves, but
you’re just never gunna see them. No one will.
Natural, brown hair wasn’t going to make me stand out here, so I had to
get creative. I wore a full-torso leotard and didn’t have the option to take it
off to arouse interest. Of course, being fully clothed in a strip club in itself
was unusual, but it often wasn’t enough on its own.
“I’ll be fine, Roge.” I faked a Spanish accent at work just because it got
me better tips, this being a border town and all. His smile morphed into a
frown. “It’s not like it makes a difference— three a.m. or four a.m. Actually,
I think it’s better because people are up and starting to get ready for their
commutes and stuff.”
“If you say so. I’ll give you a ride if you need it.” Like I’d ever get into a
car with you or show you where I live. Even so, I just smiled and nodded
gratefully, and Roge wandered off down the lane, I guess, toward his office
in the back. Stripping wasn’t a very difficult job, and I was happy just to be
making money at this point. Turning back to my neat stacks, I pulled up a
stool and sat down to focus.
“I’ll count it again just to make sure. I’m really bad at math.” Grumbling
to myself, I picked up the smallest stack of twenties and carefully plucked off
the top bill. Twenty— forty— sixty. Setting it down, I snatched my
substantially larger stack of tens and took a stabilizing breath. Seventy—
eighty— ninety— one hundred— one hundred ten— one hundred twenty.
This was the hard part, and my brows furrowed in concentration as I
grabbed the fives. My brain just didn’t do math— I got languages much
easier. Sure, I had to count using Schoolhouse Rock songs, but I also learned
six languages easy-peasy. Frankly, I’d gladly give up the ability to multiply
high numbers to be able to go anywhere and talk the talk.
Wait, I messed up. Groaning softly, I shook my head viciously and set
down my fives to start over. Maybe, I’d be better at math if I hadn’t dropped
out of school. Then again, I know enough math to get my GED, so . . .
Scowling slightly, the crease between my brows deepened, and I clenched my
jaw hard behind thinned lips.
“Illya.” My mind blanked at the call, and I smacked my palm against the
table as a frustrated, low shriek burst from my lips.
“What! I can’t count for shit! Come on!” I was louder than I intended, but
I’d worked here for months and everyone knew I sucked at math. Glancing
up as my face flamed in embarrassment, I chuffed harshly as Marcella
shuffled toward me to pull up a stool. “I’ve been trying to count this for five
minutes, okay? Just—”
“Relax. I’ll help you out.” I must’ve had, like, severe dyslexia but for
math, not words, and I rubbed my palms up my face and into my hair to
groan in dismay. “Ready?”
“Don’t ask me that. I feel like an idiot.” Propping my elbow on the table
to hold my cheek in my palm as Marcella started slowly counting my bills
while I watched. This ugly sensation clung to my ribs, and I scratched my
crown absently as silence rang in my ears. My face twisted in a grimace, and
my eyes narrowed on her hands as she started to count while snapping bills
from her hand on the table.
Thankfully, Marcella didn’t say anything to distract me while she helped
me out, and I clenched and released my jaw absently. She counted all the
twenties and tens, and I scooted a little closer when she got to the fives and
ones. This, particularly, was my downfall, and I licked my lips heavily as
anxiety gnawed at my gut. I was great at a lot of things, but it was simple
math that kicked me in the ass. Ugh . . .
“So, your total is two hundred thirty-one dollars. Do you want me to do it
again to make sure?” I shook my head hard, and Marcella let out a twinkle of
a laugh as she put all my bills in a single stack and handed it to me. Flipping
her long, brown curls over her shoulder, she smiled with a bright glimmer in
her eye, and flames licked my cheeks as I took the bills. “What are your plans
for tomorrow? You’re coming in, right?”
“Tomorrow’s Friday, of course, I’m coming in. I have Monday and
Tuesday off, though. Why?” I tucked my bills into my money pouch wrapped
around my waist, and Marcella rocked back on her stool to shake her head.
Really, it was just a glorified fanny pouch, but I didn’t want to keep so much
in something as stealable as a purse or losable as a wallet. “I’m not slated to
come in until ten p.m., though, so I’ll probably get some stuff done. I have to
go to the store and find something to eat and stuff. My roommate never shops
because she buys junk.”
“Okay. I’ll already be here. I get off at one, but I’ll be sticking around
anyway.” Nodding in acknowledgment, I stood up and smoothed my shirt
over my pouch as Marcella smiled up at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Illya.”
“Yeah. Thanks for your help, Marcella.” Shuffling around her as her
smile brightened, I pulled up my jeans over my hip absently. Patting my
fanny pouch to make sure it was there, I felt around for my keys beyond the
fake leather. Nodding, my anxiety of doing basic counting disappeared as I
pushed open the door to the ‘sales floor’ of the building. The DJ was walking
around with a broom and picker-upper-thing, and the catwalks had been
turned off in favor of the big lights hanging from the ceiling.
For a strip club, this place was fairly clean. We didn’t serve food, and the
drinks were outrageously priced, so people didn’t want to spill them and
waste fifteen dollars. Making my way toward the heavy double doors that
served as an entrance, I was careful not to touch the chairs and barstools that
hadn’t been wiped down yet. The crisp, clear air that filtered through the
open door replaced the thickness of sweat and alcohol, and I stepped into the
darkest part of the night to inhale deeply.
Life was fucking good right now. Striding leisurely toward my bike, I
patted my back for my switchblade and smiled at my own, light steps and
pulled my bike chain key out of my pouch. Glancing up at the neon signs that
blazed at passing cars tantalizingly, I rolled my lips between my teeth as a
sigh bubbled up in my chest.
I mean, working at a strip club wasn’t ideal, of course, but it was a job.
Riding a bike everywhere wasn’t ideal, but it cost nothing. Living in a studio
on the verge of being quarantined definitely wasn’t that great, but it was a
place to live.
There was always a ‘but’, a silver lining, and things might not be great,
but they were good enough. Kneeling down to unlock my bike, I wrapped the
chain around the handlebars before backing it up and straddling the seat. My
mind whirred slowly as I pushed off toward the street, and I bopped my head
absently to glance around. At this time of night, the roads were dead, the
lights blinked instead of their usual rotations, and if I got too close to
downtown, I’d see a lot of crackheads.
Which was why I always took the back route. I had the added bonus of
working out, too, so that was nice.
“Sylvie’s probably going to be waking up right when I get there.” Pursing
my lips, I took a breath through my nose as I cruised down the street. I wasn’t
sure what was happening with her, but I knew Sylvie was being sneaky again.
She was clean and doing well. We had a plan to pay off her drug dealer’s
debt, and she had a job as a busser.
But something was wrong, I just couldn’t put my finger on it. If Sylvie
relapsed, I was dropping her like a hot potato because fuck that. I dealt with it
once. I wasn’t dealing with it again.
2

Illya
Dropping heavily onto my cot to tie my sneaker laces, I glanced over at
Sylvie as she draped across her own cot and played Alien Invasion on her
phone.
“I’m heading to the store. Do you want anything in particular?” She
shook her head, her short bob whipping her cheeks lightly, and my lips
thinned under furrowed brows. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I think I’m getting sick. I’m just not hungry.” The bland response
was the same one she gave me yesterday, and I simply shrugged it off. Sylvie
didn’t eat a lot, but I wasn’t going to be responsible for her whole person. “If
you could get me a VitaWater, the green one, that’d be great, though. I’ll pay
you back next Thursday.”
“It’s one VitaWater, Sylvie, they’re, like, two bucks. Just don’t forget to
pay your half of the electric bill.” She rolled her eyes at me even as a smile
stretched her thin lips, and I chuckled softly. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you
later.”
“Okay.” Worry sloshed against my ribs when I stood up, and I tightened
my fanny pack around my waist and hiked up my jeans as I fought a frown.
Heading out of our small efficiency space, I locked the door behind me even
though it was about ready to fall off the hinges.
That was the one thing I never did— get involved with drugs. Long after
Sylvie kicked her heroin habit, the effects remained, and she wasn’t the same.
I stuck with her through it all, but I told her clearly I wouldn’t do it again.
Whenever she got the itch, she would tell me, and we’d work through it.
But I knew she stopped going to NA meetings recently. I suspected she’d
stopped paying her drug dealer what she owed. I had a sneaking fear this
‘sick’ issue she was having wasn’t actually being sick, but because she’d
started using again and was hiding it from me. Hopping down the stairs to the
first floor, I ran my hand through my hair roughly in agitation.
I loved Sylvie in a way that only trauma could develop, and we’d gone
through so much together that a life without her would be hard. Even so, I’d
do it if I had to.
 Memories swamped my mind’s eye as I emerged into the brilliant light of
late morning, and I unlocked my bike with practiced movements. Both our
parents died when we were young, and Sylvie and I met in a group home
when we were teenagers. We decided to run away together, which wasn’t
nearly as romantic as it should’ve been, and lived on the streets because it
was better.
Now, both of us were twenty-eight, and I felt like I was finally starting to
get my life together. I saved every penny I could, and it was slow going, but
at least it was going.
Sometimes, I wished I could marry a rich guy and meander my life away
in bliss and luxury, but I wasn’t going to take the easy way out. My dad once
told me that nothing worth earning in life was easy, and I took that to heart.
Climbing onto my bike, I reached to rub my chest absently, and my skin
tightened and twitched under the friction from my shirt.
“I’ll take the long way to the store.” Truth be told, the grocery store was
only six blocks from my apartment, but I wanted to enjoy the day. The air
was hot but not sticky, and the sun was hard but not blazing— at least not
yet. For the slums of San Diego, not dying of heat stroke was an indicator of
a good day. Pushing off to cross over the sidewalk and into the street, I lifted
my butt off the seat to ease into a steady pace. Thankfully, there weren’t
many hills in this city, and we were far enough from the ocean to avoid
getting saturated by salty air.
Honestly, I thought I did pretty well for myself, all things considered. I
didn’t have a preferred job, though, and I didn’t have the luxury of being
picky. Maybe, eventually, I’d try my hand at something else, but what that
was, I really had no idea.
Also, the taxless money was really nice even though it usually amounted
to the same as a forty-hour workweek. At least the government wasn’t taking
half of it.
“Ugh-h-h . . . it’s such a nice day. Maybe I should ride around for a while
after I put all the stuff away.” Snorting, I sat on my bike seat to cruise, and a
grim smirk tilted my lips. ‘All the stuff’ was usually just water, dried
vegetables, and just enough deli meat for two sandwiches. There was a bread
store that sold nearly expired bread for a dollar, which I could put in the
freezer. If I was feeling really wild, I could buy myself some peanut butter
and a few apples, and my mouth watered at the notion.
Gnawing on my inner cheek as I sailed down the street into a wide turn, I
frowned at the grocery store sign hovering above the buildings of a plaza a
half-mile away. How did my ride go from fifteen minutes to five? Oh, right. .
. I think too much sometimes. Cars zipped past me, and I glanced around at
the somewhat nice, kept up structures around me. This part of town wasn’t as
well-endowed as downtown in the east end, but there weren’t many terribly
awful spots, either. Of course, if I rode a little ways south, I’d end up in a
hive of drug addicts and dealers, but they mostly stayed on their side of town.
The more they stuck together, the less inclined the cops were to bust
them.
Turning into the grocery store parking lot opposite a small strip mall, I
clung close to parked cars to avoid getting hit by someone backing out or
pulling in. The bike rack was by the dumpsters, on the side of the building,
and I bopped my head as I silently went over my pitiful list.
“I should grab some cat food just in case.” Just as the grumble passed my
lips, I rounded the front of the store only to grind my heel into the ground.
Sylvie stood by the dumpster, in full view, with a guy that looked slimier
than a used car salesman. Fumbling to pull my phone out of my pack, I
swiped open the camera and zoomed in as a fire sparked in my chest. Glaring
at my phone screen, I hit the ‘Record’ button while she handed this guy what
looked like thirty dollars.
And, there, right on the screen, he passed Sylvie a little baggie of what I
recognized as black tar heroin despite being wrapped in paper inside the dime
bag. They weren’t even discreet about it. Neither checked around to look for
witnesses, and I clenched my jaw hard as betrayal seared my throat. Seething
silently, I blew smoke out of my nose, and I videoed Sylvie stuffing the
baggie in her pocket before heading around the back of the store.
I was, generously, fifty feet away, and even with my terrible math skills, I
knew that was close enough for them to notice me out of the corners of their
eyes.
“What the fuck? What the fuck, Sylvie?”
The guy waited around a moment before following Sylvie, and my lip
curled in disgust. No wonder she wasn’t eating— she was using again! I had
this shit on video! There was no way she could deny it, now. Her lack of
appetite had started a few days ago, so she must’ve used at least twice. Sylvie
wasn’t one of those people that used five times a day, maybe four or five
times a week when she was at her worst.
But this was worse than her worst. My heart pounded hard against my
ribs, and I stuffed my phone angrily back into my fanny pack to jerk my bike
to the stand.
Memories beat against my burning eyes, and shivers raced down my
spine. Sylvie and I made a pinky promise so long ago, standing outside a
womens’ shelter in the rain while we waited for the doors to open. With such
clarity, I could remember her tone as she explained she wanted to get clean.
Determination sparkled so brightly in her eyes even as she regaled me with
the tale of her blowing a dude for drug money.
Where had that gone? Why did I feel like I was the one strung out? Why
did I have the ache that may never go away?
“Fuck. Fuck, Jesus Christ. I can’t believe you!” Hissing, I was so angry, I
jabbed the lock in place and stomped my foot just to release some energy.
“You bitch!”
I told Sylvie— I expressly, clearly stated— that I would fuck her up if
she ever used again and I found out about it. I wasn’t going through the mood
swings, the sweating, the screaming— never again. When she was in a good
place, I told her straight that she’d be gone— g-o-n-e— gone!
“Damnit!” Straightening to take a huge breath, in an attempt to calm
down, I shook my head viciously, and my fake blonde hair clung to my
cheeks from the sweat of my ride. “Okay, okay. I just need to calm down. I’ll
do my shopping. I’ll bring everything home. I’ll go for a super long ride to
figure out how to confront her, and then I’m kicking her out. I don’t care
what she says.”
3

Illya
Tapping my foot furiously as I watched Sylvie unlock the door through
pupils narrowed to slits, I didn’t try too hard to hide how miserable I felt. It
happened in slow motion— the click of the lock, the turn of the knob, and the
door popping open. When the barrier swung open, my eyes snapped up, and
Sylvie’s pointed features twisted like a deer getting whacked with a front
bumper.
Something flashed in her dark eyes, and I knew that she knew she’d been
caught. I could tell by the look on her face that she was still under the
influence, so it’d been less than two hours since she bought that shit behind
the dumpster.
Well, she won’t have anywhere to go but that damn dumpster in a minute.
“Don’t even try to deny it. Get your shit and get the fuck out.” To be
honest, the drug use was bad enough, but Sylvie had lied to me to do it— the
same, bullcrap story as every other drug addict. Her face froze at my hard-
edged demand, and my eyelid twitched in agitation at the notion that she’d
try to lie to me again. I had a pretty alright phone with a pretty alright camera,
and there was no way she’d convince me that what I saw was something else.
“Illya, I can explain. That wasn’t for me. This girl at work pays me a little
to go get it for her, like . . . like a middleman.” A harsh guffaw burst from my
throat, and I shook my head as Sylvie walked over to me with panic slowly
settling on her features. Her voice heightened, developed a little stutter as her
mind tried to keep up with her lie, and an ugly, black blotch opened up in my
chest. “Please, I swear, I didn’t use. I wouldn’t . . . I would never jeopardize
—”
“Get your shit and get out or I’ll throw you out.” In a place like this, there
was no lease, no nothing, just pay my rent, keep my head down, and hope
ICE doesn’t show up and clean the building out. Grinding the words through
my teeth, I knew there was no help for me if Sylvie didn’t leave on her own
— either I physically removed her, or I threw up my hands and walked out.
Neither would be painless, I knew, and my heart twisted at the huge, fat
tears that sprang to her eyes. Sylvie opened and closed her mouth a few
times, standing there stupidly, and I grabbed her arm to yank up her thin
sweater. She couldn’t react fast enough, and I ground my teeth hard at the
track marks on her arm. I’d judge that she’d used three, maybe four times
over the past week or two, but the amount didn’t matter. Throwing her arm
back, I scoffed in disgust when she stumbled a little, and I raked my hand
through my hair viciously.
“How dare you lie to me, Sylvie?” Hissing through clenched, aching
teeth, my eyes stung with how pathetic she suddenly seemed. I could barely
look at her. “How dare you? Don’t you stand there and lie. Don’t say a single
word. Either get your shit and get out, or I’ll throw you and your shit out the
window.”
“Illya, can we just talk about this . . . please? I made a mistake, okay— I
know it— bu— ” Pulling my switchblade out of my fanny pack, I flicked
open the pointy end, and Sylvie sputtered a little as her eyes grew big and her
face pale.
“I’m not gonna say it again.” She just stood there, staring at my
switchblade as I twirled it around, not brandishing it per se but proving I was
serious. Of course, Sylvie didn’t need to know how badly my stomach roiled,
how weak my knees were. I mean, we went through a lot, and I thought we
were best friends. Drugs killed more than just the physical, though. Her dark
gaze flickered to mine, and I jutted out my chin in defiance even as I
struggled to breathe.
My heart pounded hard as she sort of deflated, and Sylvie shuffled
heavily over to her cot under which all her stuff was stored. We didn’t have
much, and Sylvie was very much a sentimental person. Watching down my
nose as she sat down heavily, I held my breath in flaming lungs while my
heart made a bid to squeeze through my ribs. Holding her head in her palms,
she started crying in earnest, and my conviction wavered for a fraction of a
second.
Relapsing didn’t mean Sylvie was bad, just that she was weak. She’d
done well while sober, and maybe something happened that tipped her over
the edge. True, she kicked the habit, but it never truly went away.
Flames licked my throat and engulfed my spine at the notion that Sylvie
would turn to drugs because she felt like she couldn’t confide in me. We were
supposed to have each other’s backs, but I seem to always have yours, and
you don’t have mine.
My switch trembled slightly as I snapped it shut, and the sharp click
pulled a hiccup from Sylvie from beyond her palms. Walking over on
unsteady legs, I knelt down and didn’t try to hide my sneer when she peeked
at me through her fingers. The hope that her crying had moved me
shimmered in her eyes, and my disgust coated my tongue as my stomach
flipped dangerously.
I put my hand on her knee, and Sylvie wiped her eyes with a sniffle that
grated my ears. Reaching under her cot, I grabbed her duffle bag of shit and
stood up too fast for her drugged up mind.
And I threw that shit right out the window of our third-story apartment.
Sylvie jumped up with a gasp of shock, running to the window and half
hanging out of it. I heard the distinct thud of her bag smacking into the
pavement, and I propped my fists on my hips when she whirled around to
glare hotly at me. A scary kind of cold gripped my bones in a vice, cooling
my breaths and slowing my heart even as she trembled with rage.
Her duffle bag had some important items in it— expensive stuff from her
grandparents that she couldn’t dare part with.
“You better go get that before someone snatches it.” I barely heard my
own voice over the ringing in my ears, and Sylvie went wide-eyed as she
switched emotions. Panic drenched her features, and I watched through a veil
of grey when she ran out of the apartment. Shuffling to my own cot, I
grabbed the locks I’d bought at the grocery store for an astronomical price,
and the metal was frigid in my palms.
It’d take me minutes to change out the locks, and I put my knife away to
take up a screwdriver instead. Sylvie had clothes and stuff under her cot, but
I’d throw that out when I finished securing the door.
“I can’t believe this.” Grumbling to myself as I worked to unknot my gut
and breathe a proper breath, I shook my head and sucked up air through my
nose. The heat of my apartment was strangely absent, but I didn’t put too
much thought on it as I started on the knob. Five years of friendship,
extremely close friendship, was just . . . gone.
Poof.
“It’ll be fine. It’ll suck ass, but it’ll be fine.” Maybe, I could squat
somewhere to save money. I really didn’t make a lot with all things
considered, but I had fairly good credit, and I didn’t want to ruin that by
neglecting my bills. Squatting wasn’t new to me, and I scowled under
furrowed brows at the dull, brass knob as it started to come loose. “I’ll ask
around at work. Marcella had talked about wanting a roommate.”
 In the fifteen minutes it took to change out both the locks on the door,
Sylvie hadn’t come back, and I tossed lock parts onto my cot to walk to the
window. Her bag was gone, but she was there, curled up on the sidewalk,
bawling her eyes out. Guilt stabbed my heart, but I shut the window and
blocked out the heat of the day to lean on the wall and slide down to my butt.
Pulling my knees to my chin, I hugged myself, and the skin on my chest
strained and stretched painfully as my ribs threatened to concave on my
insides.
“Don’t feel bad. I gave her three chances. She should’ve taken one of
them.” Even as I grumbled to myself, my eyes stung and my mouth watered
dangerously, and I buried my face in my knees. “Don’t feel bad.”
4

Illya
Music pumped through my body from all directions, even from the concrete
floor, and I reached down to adjust my heel strap absently. A gaping hole had
opened up in my chest over the few hours between kicking Sylvie out and
heading to work. Everything at home was too quiet, too still, and I couldn’t
take it. Roge was shocked when he’d seen I’d come in early, but I simply
explained that I was bored at home, so I might as well come in and make
some money.
And, truth be told, I was glad I came in early because Roge put me on
VIP, and at least I’d have something else to focus on.
Straightening to fluff up my fake, dyed, red hair, I gingerly knocked on
the door, and A particular type of excitement and apprehension thickened my
blood. VIP meant money— thousands of dollars, sometimes— and I hastily
tugged my leotard up my chest a little. Couldn’t have whatever rich asshole
in this room see a huge scar and not tip me, right?
Haha . . . not funny.
The door swung open, and I plastered a smile on my face as my gaze
traveled up. Cool air rushed around me from inside the room, and
goosebumps washed my bare arms and legs. The man on the other side of the
threshold was taller than me despite my five-inch heels, and I actually had to
tilt my head to find his stubbled chin.
“I’m Illya.” My fake, Spanish accent rolled off my tongue expertly, and
the man’s cheek twitched noticeably to give me a glimpse of a dimple. Hard,
brown eyes scanned me through fine points, and my smile widened when he
stepped aside to let me in. “Thank you.”
He must’ve been a bodyguard by the number of scars on him— just
visible, there had to be a dozen— but I couldn’t focus on looking at them in
that moment. Three men in nice suits sat on the crescent sofa, two occupied
by my coworkers, and some relief seeped into my veins. Sometimes, VIP was
a risk, especially if I was alone, and the rich guys were assholes.
“I didn’t think they let you cover so much skin here, mi novia.” The man
sitting in the middle, by himself, scanned me as I sauntered over to him, and I
could feel my smile turn brittle. “Why don’t you take that off slow, huh.”
“Aw, getting to the good part already? That’s a little fast for me.” The
guy with Marcella’s ass in his face burst out laughing at my response, and I
sat down in Middle Guy’s lap as he went red. Surprise tickled my chest at the
brightness in his eyes, his face tinging pink with appreciation, not anger, and
I wound my arms around his neck. “Let’s savor the moment.”
“You got me. That was a good one.” He chuckled, his hand sliding up my
back, and I played my part, biting down on my bottom lip when he leaned in.
“I’m Mateo.”
“Illya.” I mean, my name was foreign enough that most people thought it
wasn’t real, anyway, and Mateo’s brows roses in surprise. “It’s a pleasure to
meet you, Mateo.”
“I’m sure it is. Do you actually dance, or do you just shake your ass?”
Gesturing to my pale pink leotard, Mateo’s surprise boiled down to curiosity,
and I hummed softly. Patting his shoulder, I popped up, and he sat back in the
sofa to prop his head in laced fingers.
“You’re the first person that’s ever asked me if I danced instead of
shaking my ass.” Tilting my body to take off my heels, the whole world
shifted at the loss of those five inches, and Mateo downright grinned at me.
He seemed like a really happy guy, and my own smile became a little more
genuine. “Okay, I haven’t done this in a while, so pardon me if I’m a little,
well, bad.”
“This is exciting. Theo, have a seat and watch this.”
“Like fuck I’m sitting on that couch.” Even so, my skin tightened as sharp
eyes scanned me again from the back, and I set my heels under the table
holding a half-empty bottle of tequila. Raising my arms over my head, I
arched sharply and shook out my arms, flexing my thinly covered toes on the
carpet.
Holding out my arms, I blinked once— twice— before memories flooded
my mind and beat against my eye sockets. My mom made me take ballet, and
I really liked it even though I wasn’t super talented. Clenching my jaw, I took
a stabilizing breath and viciously forced down the images that played behind
my lids.
All eyes were on me when I focused again, and I nodded more to myself
than anyone else. It must’ve been a year or two, now, since I went en pointe,
and I winced at the immediate sting in my toes and up my ankle. Shock
sizzled in the air, creeping up my skin, but I ignored it to lift my leg in a
smooth arabesque. Pursing my lips, I held my breath as a burning sensation
shot up my supporting leg.
Straightening to lower myself to the balls of my feet, I let out a huff and
rolled my ankle hard. Clapping surrounded me, and I smiled a little even as I
reached to rub my foot through its sheer protection. My heart raced with
exhilaration, and Mateo grabbed my arm to sit me on his lap again with a
huge smile and impressed glimmer in his eye.
“Wonderful . . . beautiful . . . ” Flames licked my cheeks, and I mumbled
a ‘thank you’ before Mateo turned to Theo, still standing by the door. “I told
you coming here was a good idea, Theo. It’s always nice to find someone like
her after dealing with nasty, slimy, lying, sneaky cunts constantly.”
“You’re the one that fucked her, Mateo.” A dark shiver lodged between
my shoulder blades, and I glanced over my shoulder only to find Theo staring
directly at me. Well, more like glaring. “What does it say about you that you
got involved with her, huh?”
“She was the one that started shooting up again instead of coming to me,
Theo.” The sudden sharpness in Mateo’s tone rose the hairs on the back of
my neck, and I flexed my foot for good measure before taking my cue.
Standing up to position myself between his spread knees, I raised my arms
and swished my hips as I became part of the room. “That bitch should’ve
known better, but she disappeared. And I get word today that she’s using
again. That’s unacceptable. It’s also unacceptable that you haven’t found her
yet.”
“We looked thoroughly. No one’s seen her since the deal went down at
Keystone Foods.” Are they talking about Sylvie? Oh . . . Rolling my lips
between my teeth as the guy under Marcella spoke up, I carefully masked my
expression. “Mateo, I promise you we looked under every rock. She’s gone.”
“That’s not good enough!” The nasty snarl rolled up my back, and I
gasped when Mateo shoved me unexpectedly. Tumbling to the floor, I flailed
a little, and I tensed when unfamiliar, strong hands grappled my shoulders
before I face-planted into the table. Surprise widened my eyes when I looked
up to find Theo looming over me, but our eye contact was brief before Mateo
drew all attention.
A high-pitched squeal cracked through the room like lightning, and my
head whipped up as Marcella stumbled over the side of the sofa. Mateo flew
into an absolute rage, rearing his arm back to punch the guy in the face
several times with practiced, quick jabs. He grunted with the effort, earning a
satisfying crunch from the guy’s face, and I tried to make myself as small as
possible.
Sinking into Theo’s chest in the hopes that his broad shoulders and
muscular arms would hide me, I tried to block out the sound of fist crushing
cheek. Covering my ears, I silently wondered what the absolute fuck Sylvie
had done getting mixed up with this guy. If she was who he was after, I
would probably be top on the list of people he’d visit.
Oh-ho-ho . . . this was bad.
This was really, really bad.
“You’re fucking incompetent. You can’t even find one drugged up bitch
in this city. It’s not that fucking difficult! If you turned over every stone, why
the fuck haven’t you found her yet!” Punctuating each statement with a hard
punch, Mateo’s voice boomed through my palms and rattled my brain.
Calloused palms squeezed my shoulders, and I tore my eyes off him to find
Theo, still, staring. Honestly, it was getting a little creepy at this point, and I
held my breath as anxiety flooded my veins. As if sensing my rising
apprehension, Theo sort of rubbed my shoulder with his thumb, and tension
build to constrict my chest.
He only has three fingers on one of his hands.
“Oh.” Jumping when Theo stood up swiftly, I tore my eyes off him to
watch Mateo drop heavily into the seat he’d just abandoned. He breathed fire
through flared nostrils, his pretty face red and pinched in anger, and I
scrambled to stand up. My shoulder and arm tingled wildly, and an eerie
stillness descended on the room as uncertainty floated between my coworkers
and I.
Mateo cleared his throat roughly, and my chest tightened when he flashed
me a pensive, apologetic smile and gestured me to him. Snatching my wrist,
he pulled me into his lap again, and my heart made a bid to jump out of my
chest.
“I apologize for that. I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you. You’re
just a random stripper, after all. It’s not like my problems are your fault.”
Anxiety curdled my blood when he started petting me like I was a kid getting
blamed for something I didn’t do, and the hairs on the back of my neck
bristled wildly.
No, but I’m involved and that’s bad enough.
5

Theo
Leaning on the wall with my arms crossed tightly over my chest, I scowled as
I watched Illya swish her hips with an ease that came with practice. Well, of
course, she had practice. She was a stripper and this wasn’t some dumpy
club accepting anything with an ass and tits. The smooth lines of her long,
lean body glistened under the lights as they switched from blue to purple to
pink to green and back again.
Taking a shallow breath through my mouth, my lips thinned at the
pungent stench of alcohol even as my brain wafted through it. Illya dipped,
balancing on her heels with her knees out, and I clenched my jaw as I
watched her ass jiggle. My palms itched to grab her and see if those globes
were as tight as they looked.
My guess was, yeah, they definitely were.
Under the intense sharpness of tequila, the smell that curled tantalizingly
up from her hair fogged my mind. It must’ve been a strong scent, because the
booze was so thick here that it dripped down the walls. Reaching to rub my
jaw roughly with my left hand, I tapped my bicep with what was left of my
right hand.
“Theo.” Grunting without tearing my eyes off Illya, I ran my hand
through my hair— the hand with all five fingers, because what’s a comb
without bristles? “What would you do in my situation, huh?”
“I’d kill her, honestly.” My eyes narrowed into slits when Illya paused,
losing her composure, and I cocked my head absently at the slightly frozen
part of her face, right around her mouth. “There’s no way this turns out good
for you, Mateo.”
“Yeah, I just don’t want to jump the gun.” At that, I couldn’t help but roll
my eyes, and I shot Mateo a hard glare as he flopped his head back against
that nasty-ass sofa. My chest tightened in sympathy at how hard this was for
him, but . . . come the fuck on, man. This wasn’t rocket science. “Don’t you
think it’d be worth it? To beat the odds?”
“I think it’s unnecessary. Beating the odds is one thing, Mateo, but you’re
wishing for something that’s not going to happen. If you find her, she’ll have
to detox and all that shit. Do you really wanna watch that?” At some point,
my eyes drifted back to Illya. She was much better to look at than Mateo,
anyway. Granted, Mateo had that pretty boy, Spanish features, silky accent
thing going on. Shaking my head viciously, I exhaled a hot breath as fire
licked up my spine and down my legs. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking
you’re as important to that drugged up slut than she is to you. You fucked
twice, it was a mistake, all that bullshit.”
“Yeah, I’m still gonna try, though.” Mateo was in love, and I guffawed
when he just ignored me. Only, he wasn’t in love with that bitch Sylvie, who
was desperate to lower her debt and starting to slide back into bad habits well
over two months ago.
No, he was in love with the thing inside her that he’d so carelessly let
happen. Truthfully, I felt kinda bad for Mateo because there was no way that
this scenario would play out with a happy ending. Not that talking sense to
him is going to do any good. He’s dead set on trying to have this baby.
“Since Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumbfuck can’t do their jobs, I want
you to find her, Theo.” Grinding my teeth, I only jerked my head in a nod,
and Mateo glanced over at Johnny with disgust on his face. “Get out. I’ll deal
with you later.”
Johnny shuffled up with his busted face and dejected, slumping
shoulders, and I frowned under furrowed brows. The guy was already on thin
ice after fucking up with his last job, and I shuffled out of the way to let him
out. My gaze swung past Illya to Cris, Johnny’s much younger, junior kinda
partner, who was staring at the stripper’s ass so hard it was almost comical.
“Tell me exactly what you two did looking for her, Cris.” Obviously, no
one had tried too hard to find this chick, and I wasn’t sure why. Mateo hadn’t
been subtle about what would happen if she couldn’t be smoked out of her
hole in the ground. Cris cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter, and I
tuned out the conversation to turn my attention back to Illya.
She was pretty, with her deep, dark blue hair and vivid, eyes so green
they were probably fake. I scanned Illya’s muscular legs, outlined in tight
stockings, and a throb rippled across my abdomen to stiffen my cock. Mateo
dragged my ass out here because he “needed a change of scenery”, and I had
to say I wasn’t as disgruntled about it now as I was on the way.
“You didn’t even talk to her roommate!” My body sprung into action
before I even consciously registered Mateo screaming at this kid who was no
older than nineteen. Jumping forward as he, once again, shoved Illya, I just
grabbed her without thinking to push her behind me. My boss advanced on
Cris, as if he wanted to beat face, but stopped himself when he realized that it
wasn’t Cris’ fault.
Cris was a hardworking kid, and my gaze flickered between him and
Mateo as the other stripper rushed to huddle behind me. Swiping his hand
through his jet black hair, Mateo rolled his shoulders and huffed as Cris tried
to get eaten by the sofa cushions.
“Did you even bother with going to her apartment?” Mateo tugged his
button-down shirt and cleared his throat, but the tension only mounted in his
back when Cris shook his head with uncertainty.
“Johnny thought she wouldn’t be there, so there was no point in going. I
told him to check her job, then, but we started checking crack houses instead.
He told me that she wouldn’t be stupid enough to go home or to work.” Long,
thin fingers hugged my arm, and I glanced down as Illya peeked out from
over my shoulder. So close, even behind green lenses, I could see how
curious she was, and a frown dragged down my mouth. My muscles gorged
on apprehension and adrenaline, and my cock ached as I fought the need to
grab her hand and . . .
“Theo.” Swinging to Mateo, my gaze narrowed into tight points, and Illya
tensed against me. Clenching my jaw hard when she pressed her body into
my back, I exhaled hotly through flared nostrils as my boss shot me a nasty
look. “You’re on top of this, now. Asking Johnny was a mistake. Do
whatever you need to do to find this bitch.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I’d get the job done. I’d worked for Mateo for almost
three years now, and had never failed him a single damn time. We were
mutually beneficial to each other because I wasn’t in this for advancement or
money or infamy, and he didn’t want to deal with the politics of someone
trying to climb the ladder.
“I’ve scared them again.” Mateo rubbed the back of his neck almost
sheepishly, and a headache sprung behind my eyeballs at how quick he flew
between rage and normalcy. “I think it’s about time I left and gave you girls
some peace.”
“It’s okay.” Illya wasn’t the one that spoke up, and I reached around with
my mangled hand to keep her still. The other stripper stepped out from
behind me with an understanding smile puffing out her cheeks, but I didn’t
trust Mateo as far as I could throw him.
And that was pretty far, a good thirty feet, at least. Mateo was a fucking
lanky shrimp, after all.
“It’s honestly, perfectly fine. We don’t get a lot of excitement, just a lot
of creeps. I was meaning to ask you, do you box or anything? Those were
really good punches.” My eyelid twitched as the brunette tried to keep the
party going, and Illya groaned softly in annoyance. The soft noise rolled up
my spine and dug violently between my shoulder blades, and I squeezed her
arm weakly. Mateo grinned, his face practically lighting up like a Christmas
tree, and the hairs on the back of my neck flattened.
“Yeah, I do, actually.” He sounded so damn happy that someone noticed
his expert punches, and I snorted incredulously. The tightness in my chest
eased, and I unhooked my pinky and pointer finger from around Illya’s arm.
She sorta hung back, reading the atmosphere, and I tilted my head to watch
her rub where I’d grabbed her gingerly.
Fake, green eyes flickered to mine, and my own narrowed into tight
points as Illya flushed in the face. My cock ached fiercely, and I reached to
adjust myself in my jeans. Her cheeks fired red, although my action did
nothing to relieve the almost painful prickling in my thighs and abdomen. For
a long moment, I watched her get redder and redder with a pleasant, burning
satisfaction bubbling up in my chest until she rushed to sit on the sofa.
“So, do you have any special skills, darling?” Mateo broke my daze as he
pulled the other stripper into his lap, and I inhaled sharply with a shake of my
head. Repositioning myself by the door, I crossed my arms— an ever-vigilant
statue ready to catch bullets— but . . .
I couldn’t keep my eyes or attention off Illya. Mateo could be getting shot
at in this moment, and I wouldn’t care. Which is worrying, but there’s
something about her.
6

Illya
“Well, that could’ve gone a lot worse. At least those guys tipped super nice.”
Smiling as I stuffed a rubberband-held wad of cash into my fanny pack, I
only nodded at Marcella’s musings. My fingers still tingled wildly where I’d
touched Theo’s arm, and my own was damn near numb from his grip on my
bicep. The strange sensation of being grabbed by a man with no middle or
fourth finger rose the hairs on the back of my neck even now, hours after
they’d left.
The club was quiet, the DJ working quietly on the floor, and I didn’t have
anything more to distract me from the fact that Theo stared at me for almost
two hours straight. A shiver of uncertainty slithered up my spine, and fire
blazed just under my skin at the memories that played so fresh in my mind.
Tightening the strap of my pack absently, I gnawed on my bottom lip as my
thoughts wandered.
Theo was downright creepy with that stare, but I couldn’t help but think
he just didn’t have much experience with women. Screwing a woman and
finding her attractive were two different things, and the vision of him fixing
himself flashed behind my lids when I blinked. Yeah, definitely not the kind
of guy that dated.
Doing that was so damn gross, and a shiver rattled down my spine before
I forced myself to focus for a second. Checking to make sure I had everything
I needed, I glanced over as Marcella waited by the door, and a guilty smile
stretched my lips.
“Sorry, tonight was really weird. I’m still trying to process it.” She
nodded in understanding, and I took a stabilizing breath as we headed out of
the back and onto the main floor. “That guy, Mateo, he just . . . he flew off
the handle so fast. I wasn’t expecting that at all. He seemed pretty alright for
the most part, but . . . ”
“I totally get it. I didn’t walk into that room thinking I’d get knocked over
the sofa, for sure.” Marcella flipped her hair over her shoulder as she spoke,
and I hummed softly in acknowledgment. “I bet that’s why I got such a huge
tip. That guy seems like he has a lot of unresolved issues though to get angry
like that and then get so . . . almost bashful?”
“Yeah.” Pushing open one of the doors, I took a huge breath of the crisp,
night air and sighed a gust. “I have to go wash this stuff out of my hair. I
kinda just wanna go to bed, but then I’d get dye all over the place.”
“You probably spend more money on temporary dye than food, don’t
you, Illya?” She smirked slippery, and I nodded with a little giggle as we
approached my bike. “Anyway, do you want me to give you a ride? We can
stick your bike in my back seat.”
“No, I like the ride home. It’s super late and no one’s out. Even the
tweakers don’t come out at this time of night. They’re super paranoid when it
gets so dark.” My wry reply earned me a chuff, and Marcella wandered off to
her car wordlessly as I unlocked my bike. Hoisting my only mode of
transportation off the rack, I wound the chain around the handlebars and
swung my leg expertly. Within seconds, I was off, and I pumped the pedals a
few times before starting to cruise.
Tonight was like every other night— the blinking traffic lights, the quiet
streets, the darkness broke up only by tiny streetlamps. Sailing into a left
turn, I glanced behind me absently, and a car pulled out of the tiny gas station
across the street from the club. In the darkness, the lights from that one car
were almost blinding my peripheral, and I blinked hard as I twisted forward.
Mateo might’ve been a wild ride, but Theo was really the one that
disturbed me. His eyes only left me when they had to, and he fit into the
category of ‘creeps that don’t seem like they’d hang out after closing but
definitely would’. I had no doubt that, at some point, he’d show up at my
apartment, too. It wasn’t a stretch to realize they were talking about Sylvie.
If he didn’t find her, what would Theo do to me because I was her
roommate? I couldn’t imagine that Mateo was pissed because of just a one-
night stand. More than likely, Sylvie must’ve stolen something from him, and
he wanted to get it back or punish her, or both.
I was the person closest to her, and that’s always who the bad guys go for.
“He’s probably a drug lord or something.” My expression soured at my
own grumble, and I shook my head as I weaved between street lights. If there
was one thing I’d learned in this town, it was to have a really good Mexican
dialect, and Mateo’s sucked. What little Spanish he’d spoken during those
two hours gave me the impression that he probably learned it in high school
or something, and might not have ever been to Mexico at all.
In this town, Spanish was a more popular language than English. Just
sixty miles away was the border and Mexi-Cali, and when entering a store,
most salespeople greeted me in Spanish, not English.
Luckily, I knew six languages, courtesy of libraries, of course.
My shadow cast long in front of me, and I glanced over my shoulder to
find those same, intensely bright headlights glaring at me. The car puttered
along slower than I was riding, and I nibbled on my bottom lip in uncertainty.
In the four years I’d worked at the club, I’d never once seen a car so late at
night on this road, and it wasn’t trying to pass me. Worry gnawed at my gut,
and my heartbeat a little harder as I pumped the pedals to speed up.
Of course, it has to be the night that I have almost three thousand dollars
on my person. Mateo gave Marcella, Clary, and I three grand each, and I’d
made good tips after they’d left. Roge’s cut dipped me under, but who was I
to complain? He only took twenty-five percent of a night— that was a deal of
a lifetime.
“Crap . . . crap . . . ” I took one more turn that would lead me in the
wrong direction, and the car followed me. Squeezing the break on my bike, I
pulled to the side and hopped off my bike. My adrenaline spiked when the
vehicle parked as well, and I unzipped my fanny pack to pull out my knife
and flick it open. “You better start driving, buddy!”
The driver’s side door swung open, and I squinted to try to make out
anything beyond the headlights. Tension zinged through me, and my muscles
gorged on anxiety as I struggled to take deep, calming breaths. I’d been in my
fair share of fights over the years, and I clenched my jaw hard.
“Stop acting all big and bad.” Deep and dark, the baritone wrapped
around me in a vice, and my breath hitched as a body shuffled to block one of
the lights. Theo’s silhouette sharpened from the glare, and I tightened my
grip on my knife. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I’m not expecting you to.” Cutting me off, Theo must’ve had a remote
for the car auxiliaries because the lights suddenly turned off, and I winced.
Before I could blink back the colorful spots, he was in front of me, and the
hairs on my neck stood up as goosebumps pocked my arms and across my
chest. So softly, he dragged his fingertip down my jaw, and my heart
hammered furiously at how fast he was. “You won’t be needing this.”
A huge hole opened up in my chest when Theo pulled his hand back, and
my knife hung from around his pinky. His eyes seemed so bright, and I
automatically took a step back as weakness assaulted my knees.
 “Don’t be scared . . . unless you have something to hide, Illya. Answer
my questions, and you’ll get your dinky knife back and be on your way.”
Crossing my arms tightly over my chest, the fine hairs on my face bristled
when Theo reached to cup the back of my head. He was very gentle, but his
eyes were violent and hard, and a quake assaulted my spine. “Where is she? I
know you know her, that bitch Sylvie.”
“I don’t know.” Five fingers curled into a fist in my hair threateningly,
and I gasped sharply as Theo jostled my head a little bit, just enough to know
he meant business. My eyes met his, and my mouth dried at how fiery and
lively his orbs were even now. “I said I don’t know. I . . . I caught her buying
drugs at the store earlier, and I kicked her out. I don’t know where she went. I
made a video just in case.”
“Show me.” Nodding hastily, I unzipped my fanny pack, and Theo eased
his grip on my hair as an amused chuff rumbled from his throat. “Why are
you wearing that thing?”
“It’s harder to steal.” Answering the question, I just wanted Theo to leave
me alone, and I pulled out my phone to unlock the screen. My hand shook,
and I held out the bright screen before tapping the ‘play’ button with a stiff
finger. “I kicked her out about two hours after this happened, maybe an hour
and a half. I don’t know where she went, I swear.”
“Uh-huh.” The absentminded response came just before Theo glanced at
my phone, and I tensed when he frowned at the screen. “Did you really think
I’d follow you just to attack you?”
“Yeah, you did stare at me for two hours straight.” Stop asking questions
and let me go. Oh, my God . . . Dark eyes snapped to mine, and I stiffened
when they flared with offense. Theo’s jaw ticked a few times before he
grunted, and the moment slid by on pins and needles until he ducked to watch
the video.
“Right. Do you know this guy?”
“No, he’s a different dealer than the one Sylvie had before I helped her
get clean.” Theo had no accent beyond the typical American one, and I
couldn’t even be mad right now as he started kneading my scalp. Sucking in a
sharp breath, a cold sweat broke out under my clothes, and he jutted his chin
out at me with an expectant grunt.
“Replay it.” The video couldn’t have been longer than twenty seconds,
and I swiped back the time bar at the bottom of the screen. “How long has
she been clean?”
 “Four years. I told her if she ever used again, I’d kick her out of my life.
I’m trying really hard. I can’t be with someone that’s not trying just as hard.”
I couldn’t help the bitter betrayal that bled into my tone, and Theo’s cheek
twitched in the shadow of the screen. “This . . . this is all I know, okay, so . . .
you’re gonna leave me alone, right?”
“Don’t count on it.” Once again, Theo’s eyes met mine, and I sucked in a
sharp whistle of a breath when he jerked my head. Squeezing my eyes shut, a
whimper lodged in my throat, and my heart tried to burst through my ribs.
My skin crawled when he bumped his nose to my temple, and his clean-
shaven chin brushed my ear. “Next time, I’ll get you to dance for me, Illya.”
A shudder raked my shoulders, and Theo unfurled his fist from my hair to
walk to his car and speed off. Only when I couldn’t hear it anymore did a
faint exhale escape me, and my knees gave out on me as I crumpled to the
pavement.
He kept my knife.
7

Theo
My knee bounced hard as I glared at a picture of this chick, and I rocked back
on the cot to flop back my head and scowl at the ceiling. The paint was
peeling and the corners were starting to seep with mold. How could anyone
fucking live here? There wasn’t a single laminate floorboard that wasn’t
picking up, and it reeked of weed that’d seeped in from other apartments.
Jesus.
I’d hazard a guess that Illya and Sylvie thought this was heaven compared
to some places, and I hoisted myself up to turn my gaze back to the photo in
my hand. This was the only picture of Sylvie that I could find, and it’d been
packed in Illya’s stuff and tucked under her ‘bed’. In the photo, the brunette
was eating ice cream in grainy quality, and I had to really hunt through
everything Illya owned for it.
Clenching and releasing my jaw, I tapped the photo against my palm
absently as I glanced around the one-room apartment. There was nothing to
give me any indication about anything. The only possible lead I had was the
reusable bags on the counter. Of course, I already knew that the grocery store
was a dead-end because I’d had someone posted there for days. Sauntering
over to the cabinets, I hooked a finger around the handle to pop it open, and
there was nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Cat food. Illya must feed the strays. She must’ve had thirty cans of this
shit, all neatly stacked, all the labels perfectly facing the same way, and I shut
the door to lean on the counter heavily. Pulling my cell phone out of my
pocket, I swiped the screen and punched in my code awkwardly. I could
barely bend my fingers anymore, and I ground my teeth as I struggled to
navigate to Mateo’s contact.
“What!” He was pissed again, and I didn’t lift the speaker to my ear
before Mateo angrily screamed through it. I mean, I got why he was frantic to
find Sylvie before she could do too much hard to herself, but I really didn’t
think she was worth this.
 “The roommate’s a bust. She’s not here, and neither is her stuff. We’re
going to have to find her the old fashioned way.” My gruff response earned
me a growl of frustration, and I frowned as I glanced around the dank, musty
place. “I’ll head over to the south end in a minute.”
“I don’t care what you do, Theo, fucking find her! Today!” Mateo hung
up on me, and I scowled darkly as I slid my phone back into my jean pocket.
The past few days, he’d gotten worse and worse, and I was starting to burn
my fuse with him. There was nothing Mateo could do to me. If he tried
anything, I’d fucking kill him without hesitation and move on.
All this over a chick . . . how pathetic.
Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Leaving the apartment, I still had a hard
time wrapping my head around the fact that Mateo was stupid enough to get a
fucking debtee pregnant. That’s what all this was about, after all. Why he
was so desperate to find her? Sylvie’s dumbfuck self came to Mateo after a
few weeks and said she was pregnant, didn’t know what to do, yadda yadda.
After he bought her a nice apartment downtown and all that, she fucked off
for some reason I didn’t really care about.
My thoughts came to a screeching halt at the hard thud of cans crashing
to the floor, and my head whipped up. Illya stood at the bottom the rickety
stairs, her bright, hazel eyes wide and her purple hair fluffy and bristling
around her surprised features. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and
my eyelid twitched as I scanned her through narrowed pupils.
“Hello?” Idiot. Clearing my throat roughly, I took the stairs, and she
gasped before looking down and dropping to her knees to grab up all her shit.
Illya wasn’t fast enough, and I knelt down to grab a can and hold it out for
her with my jacked up palm. Uncertainty rippled across her face, but she
slowed reached out to take the can of corn. A spasm ripped through my
forearm from the sudden release of pressure, and my two fingers twitched
involuntarily as she dropped the can into one of her two bags.
“Thanks.” My lips thinned as pain shot through my palm. Even after six
years, I hadn’t learned not to use my right hand, and that can of corn proved
to be too much. Sitting back on the step, I gripped my right wrist hard and
grunted in acknowledgment of Illya’s grumble. A prickly sensation bolted up
my arm, and I tore my eyes off her to watch my muscles roiling under my
skin.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have skipped the PT.” I’d gotten my hand blown off
in Iraq, but after being discharged, I didn’t keep up with therapy like I
should’ve. I was left-handed, so I didn’t think it’d be such a big fucking deal.
Surprise furrowed Illya’s brows at my mumble, and I ground my next words
through my teeth. “So, you really did kick her out.”
I’d deliberately avoided mentioning that Illya was Sylvie’s roommate
because Mateo would probably not take it well. Her eyes sparkled in alarm,
and I couldn’t help a chuff as they flickered up the stairs behind me. My good
hand shook a little as I reached into my pocket, and I held out the photo I’d
taken.
“I’m borrowing this.” But she didn’t look up as a sharp contraction
tightened my muscles and curled my fingers, and Illya gasped in what I
guessed was horrified shock. Hissing as tingles bolted up my forearm, I
tensed as my palm twitched viciously, and I dropped the photo in my lap to
squeeze my wrist.
“A-are you okay?” Illya almost sounded like she didn’t want to ask the
question, but I nodded sharply as goosebumps swept up my arm. It’d pass—
it always did— and her eyes met mine with skeptical concern as I took a
shallow breath. “Did you find Sylvie yet?”
“I have to find her today or Mateo’s gonna throw a fit. He’s an idiot. I
told him if he ever tries anything stupid with me, I’d shoot him in his pretty
face, so he’ll take it out on so— ” Sucking in a sharp breath, my explanation
caught in my throat as the convulsions in my hand rippled up my arm. “Shit.”
“Uh . . . okay.” Realization crept up on me, and I cocked my head as Illya
crouched to hug her knees awkwardly. She wanted to go upstairs and lock the
door behind her, but she felt responsible because I’d picked up that can with
my bad hand. Sweet. “I haven’t seen her. To be honest, I thought Sylvie
would’ve come crawling back, but because she hasn’t, I think . . . ”
“That she’s holed up in a drug den somewhere on the south side? Yeah, I
figured that out, too.” Her tank top strap started sliding down her shoulder,
and I unfurled my fingers from my wrist to reach and straighten it.
Goosebumps blanketed her shoulder and bare arm, and she tensed under her
soft skin as red climbed up into her face. “You’re coming with me. I’ll let
you go when we find her.”
The demand slipped out thoughtlessly, and Illya’s eyes met mine to flash
with sour distaste and regret. The muscles in her neck strained when I cupped
her chin, and I tilted her head back and to the left.
Not for any reason, just to see if she’d let me.
“What color are your eyes, really?” Last time, Illya had green eyes, and
now, they were hazel, but I could tell they were fake once I’d paid a little
attention. The tightness in my arm started to ease, and I squeezed her chin
when she pursed her lips thinly in defiance. “Tell me.”
“They’re green.” Surprise twitched my cheek, and I released Illya’s face
to rub my spasming palm with my thumb. She rolled her jaw slightly, her
thick lips parting, and a harsh exhale escaped me as the pain in my arm
finally started to die down. “Okay, so . . . I have to work in a couple hours, so
...”
“Fine. Go put your shit upstairs. I’ll drive fast.” Glancing down at my
hand, Illya licked her lips in pensiveness, and I hoisted myself up to flex my
stiff fingers. “Hurry up.”
8

Illya
“Stay here.” Shutting off his car, Theo pulled the keys out of the ignition with
his left hand, and I sunk into the seat even as he cast me a sharp glance.
“Don’t run away. I’ll be pissed.”
“I’m not gonna run away.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I frowned as
I gazed out the window at the rundown, unkempt house we’d stopped at.
Theo stared at me for a few, slow seconds, and I huffed childishly at how
sharply this day had turned from okay to downright bad. When I didn’t look
back, he got out of the car, and only briefly did the notion of running away
flash through my head.
Theo knew where I worked and lived, though, so there was no point but
to suffer through his. The sooner he found Sylvie, the sooner he’d leave me
alone. Hopefully. Right now, we were just going door to door searching for
her, and I pulled my phone out of my fanny pack to check the time. I had
work in three hours, but I was seriously considering lying about it and saying
I had to in at six p.m. instead of seven p.m.
“Why did you do something so stupid, disappear, and still manage to get
me involved somehow.” Mumbling through clenched teeth, I rested my head
against the seat as I watched Theo walk up to the door. He didn’t knock, just
strong-armed the barrier open, and my mind swiftly turned to the little
episode at my apartment.
Obviously, Theo had been through some stuff. I mean, he had two fingers
missing from one of his hands. Now, in the cold light of day, I noticed a scar
running up the side of his face, and his nose had clearly been broken more
than a few times. I couldn’t help the curiosity I had surrounding him, but I
surely wasn’t going to ask about it.
If I asked about Theo’s scars, maybe he’d want to see mine, and I just
wasn’t going through that. Not for him. Not for anyone.
“Ugh . . . ” I wished the seat would open up and suck me in, and I reached
to push my palms into my eyes. The ruined skin on my chest prickled as my
lungs deflated in an exasperated sigh, and I ran my hands down my face with
a loud groan. “This sucks.”
 I was stupid to think, as the days passed by uneventfully, that I was done
with Theo, and I scowled darkly. If I never saw him again, it’d be too soon.
Who cares if he’s muscular and a little aloof and actually a human, not a
robot wearing human skin.
To be fair to Theo, he didn’t break into my apartment by busting down
my door. He just picked the locks, and I gave him points for that, at least.
Seeing him in pain with his hand also gave me some closure that he was a
little bit human, and my heart throbbed in my chest. I couldn’t imagine the
struggles Theo had to go through every single day, and I turned my gaze to
my hands to flex my fingers. There were more scars, I knew; there just had to
be more. Could I go all day without using two of my fingers? Could I even go
an hour?
I didn’t want to feel anything for Theo, but as much as I wanted him
gone, sympathy still stung the backs of my eyes. In that regard, at least, he
was just like me, and I pulled up my tank top to frown under furrowed brows.
The thin layer of bandages wrapped around my torso hid the worst of me, and
I winced when I pressed down on my abdomen. After thirteen years, the
constant pain hadn’t faded away, I’d just gotten used to it.
Was that what Theo went through with his hand? Or was his hand the
exception to his other scars?
“Why am I even thinking about this? I don’t want to be involved with
him. He’s bad news. I have a hard enough time without worrying about
someone else.” Grumbling, my frown darkened as Theo emerged out of the
house out of the corner of my eye, and I sat up a little. This was only our
third house checked, and he was scowling as he walked alone towards his car.
“Someone was sober enough to recognize her, a couple blocks away.”
Slamming the door, Theo worked the key into the ignition and twisted
awkwardly, and the car rumbled to life. “I don’t really trust tweakers, but
we’ll check it out anyway.”
“And then I can go back home.” Mine wasn’t a question, but Theo
nodded curtly, his expression souring some. Relief eased the burning of my
skin under my shirt, and I closed my eyes briefly. “Good.”
“How did you and this chick meet, anyway?” The car peeled off the curb,
and I cracked open my eyes as Theo, thankfully, kept his on the road. “You
said you got her clean four years ago.”
“We met at a women’s shelter when we were twenty. After a couple
months, we decided to move from Los Angeles. I told her I wouldn’t unless
she kicked her heroin habit, so she did.” That time had been so rough. The
cops had been cracking down on homeless people back then, and getting a
spot at the shelter was nearly impossible. Sylvie and I started squatting, but
she got picked up by the police for panhandling and it’d freaked us out. “We
moved here about a little more than three years ago. I told Sylvie that if she
did drugs again, I’d cut her out without hesitation. She was really upset when
I threw her shit out the window and she couldn’t get to it fast enough.”
“Why were you homeless?” Irritation bubbled up against my ribs like hot
tar, and I sunk into my seat as Theo took a turn hard. The tires squealed in
protest, but he didn’t slow down, and I gripped the door handle tightly as my
insides sloshed from the force.
“U-uh . . . my parents died when I was thirteen and I went into foster
care. Pretty self-explanatory.” It seemed like for every question I answered,
Theo had another one, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.
My plan was backfiring on me, but I couldn’t back out of it now. “I really
don’t want to talk about it.”
“There’s the house.” My gaze swung to the windshield, but this house
looked like all the others— rundown and forgotten by the town. This city had
a small but noticeable number of houses that were just ignored. I’d always
had a feeling that someone had swooped them up for this exact purpose. A lot
of drugs came into this town on its way west, but we were far enough away
from the ocean not to have a port close enough to be suspicious.
Blinking hard, I pursed my lips thinly as Theo pulled up on the curb, and
he swore viciously when he bumped up onto the crackled sidewalk. The car
jostled dangerously, and I tightened my grip on the door handle as he worked
on readjusting. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him struggle to turn
the wheel with his bad hand as he twisted to see where he was going. A nasty
kind of frustration engulfed his features, and his jaw ticked as the muscles in
his neck strained.
My heart squeezed, and I stuffed my fists between my legs and glared at
my lap as I silently cursed myself.
“Shit.” The whole car jolted hard as the wheel on the pavement slid off
onto the asphalt, and Theo’s fiery breath was so hot it reached my shoulder.
He turned the car off, and I peeked up through my lashes while he jerked the
key from the ignition. “Get out.”
I didn’t hesitate to unbuckle, and I popped open the door and tried my
damnedest to shove down this sensation tingling against my ribs. Shutting the
passenger side door gingerly, I stepped onto the sidewalk to glance at the rear
wheel and it’s absolutely messed up rim. There was a huge dent in the spokes
where the corner of the sidewalk smashed into the metal, and I winced just
looking at it.
That’s just sad.
Theo’s eyes didn’t so much as flicker to the damage he’d caused as he
grabbed my forearm with his good hand. Stomping up the walkway, the
muscles in his back rippled powerfully underneath his shirt, and I frowned
under furrowed brows. This time, he didn’t pull any punches as he shoved the
door open with his shoulder like he’d done it a million times.
He didn’t look at me, and a tiny part of me wondered if he was
embarrassed about his parking.
But then the stench hit me, and I covered my mouth with my free hand as
Theo released my arm to pull out his phone. When he tapped on the
flashlight, he illuminated wasted bodies and passed out drug addicts on dirty,
disgusting mattresses or just lying on the floor. I couldn’t even tell who was a
guy or girl— they all looked the same— and I grabbed Theo’s ruined hand
when he tried to step away.
He looked back, and flames licked up my face to my ears as my fingers
curled around smooth scar tissue. For a quick second, our eyes met, and I
sucked in a sharp breath when his thumb and pointer finger hooked around
my hand. Trying not to breathe, the ammonia in the air stinging my eyes, I
blinked hard, and he frowned before sort of nudging me back out the door.
“Here.” Sliding his phone into his pocket, Theo started taking off his t-
shirt, and a wife-beater clung like a second skin to his toned torso. He
managed a lot easier than with his parking job, and he shoved the fabric into
my face with a grunt. “Tie it around your head.”
“Like this?” Covering my whole face, I took a fraction of a moment to
inhale deeply, and my eyelids fluttered as the heady, musky smell of him
flooded my lungs. Snatching the shirt, Theo was smirking when my eyes
focused on him, and the sparkle in his dark gaze tightened my chest.
Sidestepping me swiftly, he folded the shirt in half and wrapped it over
my nose and mouth. Carefully tying the short sleeves over my hair, he
pressed his palm to the small of my back, dangerously close to my ass.
“Ladies first.” I tensed when Theo grabbed my ass and squeezed, and his
growl rolled down my spine. That seemed like such a strange thing to say,
and I tilted my head to glance back only to find him staring at my ass. “I wish
my fingers hadn’t been blown off so I could really appreciate this ass.”
9

Illya
We found Sylvie on the second floor, and I tried not to touch anything as I
crouched down to get a really good look at her face just to be sure. Theo
flashed the light from his phone right at her, but she was totally knocked out.
Her gaunt features after just a few days, the red rings around her eyes— the
crackling of her lips . . . Sylvie was probably jacked up more than ever, and
guilt stabbed my chest even as I jerked my head in a nod.
“That’s her, for sure. One hundred percent.” Standing up, I nodded again,
and Theo passed me his phone before bending to hoist her over his shoulder.
The shirt around my face gave me some protection from the stench, but he
grimaced as he held her by the backs of her legs. “Let’s get the Hell out of
here.”
“Yeah.” The floor creaked under Theo’s weight, and I left the room first
to illuminate all the trash on the floor. I was positive a few dead animals were
lying around, and I could hear mice digging through the garbage piled in the
corners of the place. Taking the stairs very carefully, so I didn’t have to touch
the railing, I paused to glance back at Theo cautiously.
Seconds ticked by like hours before we were out of that wretched house,
and I pulled down the shirt to take a huge, blustering breath of fresh air. Theo
walked briskly past me to his car, and I flipped his phone awkwardly in my
palms while he opened the back seat door and shoved Sylvie in none-too-
gently.
“I’ll drive you back. Come here.” Rounding the back of the car, Theo
popped the trunk, and apprehension gripped me in a vice as I shuffled
forward on lead feet. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but him pulling out a
bunch of disinfectant wipes wasn’t it at all. Exhaling heavily, I glanced over
my shoulder at the house, and a shiver of disgust rattled my spine. “Here.”
Theo’s call rose the hairs on the back of my neck, and I tensed when he
snatched my wrist to start wiping my hands. I didn’t dare breathe, my heart
stopped beating, and I watched through wide eyes as he held the wipe around
his lonely pointer finger with his thumb. Wow . . . wow . . . what the fuck . . .
what the fuck! The fuck is he doing!
 I did not fucking sign up for this weird, creeper shit! He’s washing my
fucking hands!
“I can d— ” My declaration died on my tongue at the downright ugly,
intense glare that Theo shot me, and I ducked my head. He wiped the bottom
of my palm and between my fingers, and anxiety curdled my blood. This . . .
this . . . this was fucking weird!
“Close your eyes.” Prickles rippled through my cheek at his gruff
demand, but I didn’t resist, and goosebumps swept over my shoulders and
down my arms and chest. He wiped my face where his shirt hadn’t covered,
and I trembled as apprehension gorged my muscles. “You never know what
you might need until you need it and don’t have it.”
“This is really weird, okay.”
“I seriously don’t give a fuck what you think, Illya.” Theo’s sharp snarl
echoed on the otherwise quiet street, and I flinched back involuntarily.
Squeezing my eyes shut, a whimper clogged my throat, but nothing happened
for the longest moment until he growled deep in his chest. “That’s what I
thought. You’re not gonna do shit.”
Grabbing my face, Theo squeezed threateningly, and I clenched my jaw
hard as he tilted my head back to wipe my neck. The fine hairs on my face
stood up, and my goosebumps swelled as he wiped down my arms.
“Why do you have to be such a pain in the ass, huh?” I refused to open
my mouth anymore, and Theo guffawed softly, the warmth of his breath
rolling down my nose. “Get in the car.”
Shaking my head, I scrunched up my face in preparation, but Theo only
stiffened. The air became deathly still, and I held my breath as apprehension
gripped my spine in a vice. I couldn’t get a handle on what Theo was trying
to do, and his palm slid down to wrap around my throat. My pulse ran wild
under his fingertips, and my lungs cried out for air even though he wasn’t
putting any pressure on my airway.
“Get the fuck in the car, Illya.”
“J-just leave me alone . . . please.” I made the mistake of opened my eyes,
and Theo’s narrowed as hurt flashed across his face like lightning. My mind
ran a mile a minute, and I tensed when he released my throat, his fingernails
scraping my skin. “Please . . .you got Sylvie. You don’t need me anymore.”
“Fine, walk back.” Spittle splattered my face from the viciousness of his
words, and I shivered from the breeze of Theo storming past me. He slammed
his car door shut and peeled off, the wheels screeching shrilly to ring in my
ears. I couldn’t make myself move, but when he turned off the street, I took a
shuddering, shallow breath. My dry lips stuck together, and I reached to hold
my throat where the imprint of his fingers still burned my skin.
“Holy shit.” Covering my mouth, I gulped down the dense lump that had
formed, and my mind circled around and around as confusion tightened my
chest. Turning on my heel, the world spun slowly, and I rubbed my neck and
rolled my head. Blinking hard, the image of Theo’s face when I asked him to
leave me alone flashed behind my lids vividly.
Was he really that upset about me wanting him to go away? Theo didn’t
have a good poker face, but that . . . what did he have to be hurt about? I was
the one he practically held hostage, for Christ’s sake! He showed up at my
apartment, and I couldn’t say ‘no’ and risk getting on his bad side!
And, now, I was all the way across town with no bike and no way home,
and I had work in two and a half hours.
“Ugh . . . ” I scuffed the concrete with my heel and ducked my head to
glare at the sidewalk. Why couldn’t I have toughed it out and gotten in the
stupid car?
Because Theo is friggen weird, and if I got in the car, who knows what
might’ve happened. He would’ve gotten the wrong message or something. I
don’t want to be around him. He has what he wants. There’s no reason for us
to ever see each other again.
Even as the thoughts whirred in my head, I couldn’t help but feel a little
bad. Theo didn’t mean to be a little creepy, and I was positive that he didn’t
see himself washing my hands and face as anything other than he intended.
But, of course, what was that old saying . . . the road to Hell is paved with
good intentions? If he thought he was doing me a favor, I wasn’t obligated to
oblige him just because he was meaning to be nice. He creeped me out. That
should be the end of it.
Finito. Done. Goodbye.
“So, why do I feel like I did the wrong thing, not him?” My grumble was
loud on the otherwise deserted street, and I rolled my bottom lip between my
teeth. I dealt with real creeps all the time, guys from the club that would
follow me around and try to touch me when there were signs everywhere.
Guys that tried to get me to blow them in the private booths. Guys that
looked at me like it’d be fun to beat me up and rape me and then brag about
it.
Theo didn’t seem like any of those guys. He just was really awkward and
rough. There was a huge difference between being truly creepy and just not
knowing the nuances of something. He’d just dragged me in and out of drug
dens looking for Sylvie, and he realized how disgusting it was for me.
“Rationalizing creepy behavior is bad, and I’m going to Hell.” Clenching
my hand, my intended fist only sent surprise rattling up my arm, and I tore
my eyes off the pavement to pause. Theo’s phone sat in my hand, big, with a
bulky case and a smooth, uncracked screen, and I pursed my lips thinly.
Every time I thought he’d leave me alone, he had a reason to come back at
me. “Maybe he’ll just get a new one and I can pawn this one.”
10

Illya
“Hey, Marcella, can you— ” Marcella nodded before I could even pop the
question, and I held my arms above my head after she took the end of the
bandage. “Thanks.”
“No problemo, chica.” She very carefully taped the wrap against my side,
and I smiled when she pulled up my bodysuit down my torso. “I think I
might’ve been wrong— you buy more bandages than hair dye, I bet. I like
this green, though. It matches your contacts real nice.”
“Thanks. Um . . . yeah, I mean, it’d suck if someone tried to grab my
chest since, you know, I don’t really have one.” My cheek twitched as flames
licked up my neck, and Marcella smiled faintly as she held the fabric taut
around my hips. Fastening the snap between my legs, I tugged and picked at
the bodysuit as I examined myself in the mirror. By far, Marcella was the one
at work that I was closest to, and she leaned on the small table covered in
makeup and glitter vials as I fiddled with my hair. “Do you really think it
looks good?”
I’d dyed my hair temporarily with green, but used two different shades,
and Marcella smiled broadly with a nod out of the corner of my eye. My
long, curly locks were going to need to get lobbed off soon. It was the price I
paid for constantly dying it, no matter how much assurance was on the box.
I’d managed to somehow keep most of my hair healthy, but all that damage
added up eventually. Against the pale pink of my suit, my hair was dark,
almost mossy, and I pulled apart my lids to adjust my contacts.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen your real hair— that’s not a bad thing. I get
why you obscure how you look, working in a place like this.” Vivid, brown
eyes met mine in my reflection, and I hummed softly in acknowledgment as
Marcella sighed. “So, did you find a new roommate, yet? Did you ever find
out what happened to your old one?”
“Uh . . . no. She just disappeared. I’m not sure where she went, but, I
mean, life moves on. I can’t hope she’ll come back because she probably
won’t, and I got bills and stuff that aren’t going to wait for her.” Keeping as
close to the truth as possible was the best way to lie, and I glanced over at
Marcella to arch a brow. “Why do you ask?”
“I just want to make sure you’re okay, Illya. I know you two had been
together a while in Los Angeles, right. It must suck that she went back to
using.” She smiled sad and sympathetic, and I clenched my jaw as residual
betrayal and anger bubbled up in my chest. “Are you looking for a new
roommate, or were you just working up the nerve to ask me if you could
couch surf?”
“Uh . . . the second one?” Fire engulfed my face, and Marcella giggled a
little with a slight nod. “Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m going to do, yet. I
didn’t want to ask because I know it’s not your house, but I don’t know how
long I can pay everything myself.”
“Oh, please, my parents are never home. They’re in, like, Asia right now
or something having the time of their life.” There was always that one person
who did this because it was fun, not out of necessity. Marcella’s parents
weren’t loaded, but they traveled for months at a time. All Marcella had to do
was pay for whatever streaming and internet services she wanted because her
parents paid the electricity and water.
“Still, it’d be kinda weird to come home and discover that some random
chick has been living in your house without you knowing.” Waving her off, I
forced a smile onto my face as Marcella arched a brow, and I bent to adjust
my heels. “It’s fine. If I need to find a place for a few days, we can have, like,
a sleepover, but . . . ”
“Oh, I’m down for that.” Truth be told, I didn’t want to live with Marcella
because I didn’t want to get comfortable with that pipe dream. Eventually, I’d
work my way up, go to school for something, and make it myself, but, right
now, I was in the gutter, essentially.
I’d been under these metaphorical grates so long that I was comfortable,
and that was the real tragedy, here.
“Illya!” Roge’s call through the back drew both our attentions, and I
straightened as he shuffled over. In my heels, he was a good few inches
shorter than me, and he scanned me from bottom to top before nodding.
“You’re being requested in the private suite. Number six.”
“Okay. It better not be that old creep that never tips, though.” Roge only
shrugged. It wasn’t as if it was his time that was being wasted, and I gave
Marcella a little wave as she sat down in front of the mirror. “I’ll talk to you
later, Marcella.”
“Yeah, later.” Leaving the back with Roge on my heels, I took a breath
before heading out onto the floor. Bad rap music instantly flooded my ears,
and I shook my head a little as the strobe lights flashed brightly. Low lights
illuminated the catwalk, and girls danced on poles for guys with that couldn’t
see a chick half-naked otherwise.
Thank God I don’t do the catwalk. When I started working here, Roge
wanted me on the walk until I showed him the burn marks on my chest. No
one would find that shit attractive, and I did a lot of private shows, VIP, and
just walking around to sit on guys laps and listen to their shitty day. It worked
for both of us, and I didn’t have to take off any clothes, for the most part.
Navigating my way through the swirling lights and waves of music
rippling through the air, I held my breath against the reeking stench of booze.
That was the one thing that never got better depending on how busy the place
was— the very concrete foundation of this club was saturated in alcohol.
Peeling back the curtain of the private booth, I slapped an automatic smile
on my face before setting eyes on the guy sitting on the bench. Prickles
ripped up my spine, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up as my
wide pupils met familiar, narrowed ones.
Theo propped his head against the wall on his forearm, and I blinked hard
as he scanned my body leisurely. Sucking in a sharp breath, my heart
thundered hard as apprehension flooded my bloodstream, and my legs ached
even as I forced them to bend.
This time, I wasn’t going to say anything— not a single peep. Not one
verbal acknowledgment.
Repeating the mantra over and over again in my head, I walked over to
Theo to stand between his spread knees with reluctance clawing at my throat.
I’d just do the dance, get my tip, and when the two minutes was over, I’d
leave. No doubt, it’d be the longest two minutes of my life.
“Illya.” Grabbing my hips, Theo sat me on his lap with a harsh tug, and I
tensed as shooting pain rippled up my chest from where he’d stretched my
skin. Holding my breath in fiery lungs, I closed my eyes briefly as I fought a
wince, but if he noticed, he didn’t react in any way. “You have something of
mine.”
Don’t say anything. Just don’t say anything. Grinding my teeth as I
reached to pry his fingers from my waist, I couldn’t hear the music over the
blood drumming my ears. Theo tightened his grip, and my face grew hot as
pin needles stabbed up my ribs.
“You’re not getting away so easy this time.” Even through the bandages,
the thick fabric of my leotard, I could feel Theo’s nails trying to dig. Did he
even realize how hard he was holding me? A choke of a sob escaped me
when the pain became unbearable, and I covered my mouth with my free
hand as shallow, quick breaths dried my throat. “I think it’s about time we
had a ch— ”
“That hurts!” My voice cracked harshly when I couldn’t keep my high-
pitched squeal behind the lump in my throat, and Theo’s grip on my side
suddenly eased. Standing up, I pushed open the curtain and ran for the front
doors, shoving my way through the crowd, but the jostling only intensified
the burning pain.
“Oh, my God . . . oh, God . . . ” I was on fire all over again, and I burst
through the heavy, metal barriers to lean on the brick wall. Gasping, shallow
breaths barely eased the screaming need of my lungs, and I held a clammy,
trembling palm to my side. “Ow . . . oh . . . ”
My whole torso was tight, straining, sending bristling needle-like pain
through me as my ruined skin spasmed and twitched. I couldn’t breathe
enough, and black spots dotted my vision as I leaned heavily against the
cooling bricks. The lights of the parking lot stretched up my legs and seeped
through my shuttered lids, and a hard sob clogged my throat.
But, if I cried, the pain would get worse. I was an ugly, none-too-gentle
crier.
Tiny, strangled whimpers slithered past the dense lump in my throat, and
I hiccupped a ragged breath as I tried not to move. Goosebumps washed my
arms and legs under my stockings and bodysuit, and a pained gasp escaped
me when a mangled hand pressed against my shoulder blade. My eyes
flickered over my shoulder, and Theo’s form was blurred by tears and my
contacts as they misaligned with my actual pupil.
Clenching my jaw hard, a sharp hiss burst from my throat when my
breasts tightened, a powerful ripple shoot down my front. Even at my face
and neck, my skin pulled taut, and I braced my forearm against the wall to
bury my face in my elbow.
“You shouldn’t have skipped PT, Illya.” Hot tears leaked down my face,
and a bark of some sort of noise rattled my ribs at Theo’s solemn declaration.
Tensing and releasing my entire body, I took ragged breaths through my
nose, and he sort of stood behind me awkwardly holding my shoulder. “Is it a
bullet hole? Those suck.”
“Oh, my God, will you just . . . just . . . just not say anything.” Sputtering
harshly, a whimper cut me off when my voice scratched my throat, and I dug
my forehead into my arm. “Why . . . why are you ev-even here?”
“I wanted to make sure you got home, but you weren’t there after I
finished dropping off the drugged-out bitch.” Yeah, because I didn’t get home
until almost seven, when I was supposed to already be at work. Bitterness
soured my tongue, and I sucked in a shallow breath through flared nostrils as
Theo’s eyes dug holes into the back of my head. “I guess you got me back for
that can of corn.”
“It’s not a bullet hole. What do you want? I have your phone in the back.”
“I already have a new one. Keep it. Pawn it. I don’t really give a fuck.”
Cutting me off, Theo gingerly nudged my shoulder, and I glanced at him out
of the corner of my stinging eyes. “You have a really low pain tolerance,
don’t you, Illya?”
My eyelid twitched in agitation, and I hoovered up a breath before turning
around. Theo looked concerned enough, a scowl on his face, and I held out
my palm as my own scowl started to form. I was so damn done with this day.
“Give me all the money in your pockets.” The scar on his face played in
surprise, and Theo’s brows rose even as he reached into his jeans. Holding
out my hand, unabashed, I clenched and released my jaw as fire engulfed my
chest. My breasts ached fiercely, and I started tapping my foot as I watched
him through narrowed pupils. He slapped at least a grand in fifty-dollar bills
into my palm, and I pursed my lips and shot him a nasty glare.
“Fuck . . . fine.” Theo’s tone was snippy, but he easily reached into his
other front pocket with his mangled hand. Pulling out a roll of cash, he
sneered at me, and I clutched the money in my fists. “What?”
“Congratulations, Theo, you get what you wanted. You’re gonna drive
me home. I hope you’re happy.” I couldn’t ride my bike like this, and, for the
first time, I snarled at him with all the venom I’d been holding in. The
shadows on his face darkened, and I pointed at my bike chained to the railing
stiffly. “Put my bike in your car while I go get my stuff.”
Turning on my heel, I wobbled a little as my inertia swiveled my brain,
but I somehow managed to stay on my feet. The door swung open, and I
shivered in relief because I probably couldn’t open it out by myself. Slipping
past two, totally sloshed dudes, I shook my head viciously on my way to
Roge’s office.
11

Theo
I fucked up. I realized that. I accepted that responsibility. I should’ve heeded
the signs and not touched the strippers. I probably should’ve just not gone to
the club in the first place.
“I’m— ”
“Don’t. Don’t say a fucking word.” Out of the corner of my eye, Illya’s
hand flexed against the center console, and I clenched my jaw hard. I didn’t
think I’d grabbed her that hard. Maybe I just touched a bad spot? Blowing out
a haggard breath, she held herself up off the seat, on her arms, and guilt
clawed at my throat. “Just drive.”
Illya was drenched in sweat that seeped through her leotard and
shimmered on her face with each passing street lamp. The tables had turned,
and I imagined that this ugly feeling in my chest was a more intense version
of what she’d felt when my hand decided to try to twist off my wrist.
Frowning as I gripped the wheel tightly with my good hand, I curled my right
in my lap, and the silence rang shrilly in the confines of my car.
“I can’t believe you. Why can’t you just leave me alone already? You got
Sylvie.” She grumbled more to herself than me, but Illya’s complaining was
overly loud in such a quiet space. A scowl fixed on my face at the mention of
that bitch. It hadn’t even been twelve hours since we picked her up, but she
was already going fucking crazy. “And you called me a pain.”
“Do you want me to take you to the hospital or something?” I didn’t
know what else to offer, or what to say, and Illya shook her head viciously as
she sucked in a shallow breath. “I already said I wanted to make sure you got
home safe, but you weren’t there, so I came here.”
“I was an hour late and now I had to leave early because of you, Theo.”
She spit the reply like a viper, and I ground my teeth as irritation swept
through me. “I don’t have the— the luxury of missing all those tips. You’re
not doing me a favor.”
“Then why are you making me drive you home if you don’t want me
around?” I drove under fifteen miles per hour, barely walking pace, and she
shot me the nastiest glare. Scowling darkly, my eyelid twitched in agitation,
and I glanced in the rearview mirror at her bike in my back seat. “You have
your bike.”
“I can’t fucking ride it right now.” She hissed when she twisted her head
too far, and guilt started to leak into my lungs. “You need to leave me alone. I
don’t want anything to do with Sylvie or Mateo or anything about that. I
don’t care. I don’t want updates. I want to move on with my shitty life
without worrying about being dragged into this shit again.”
“Illya.” Her arms shook from her effort, and I propped the wheel with my
knee to rub my face in frustration. “Mateo doesn’t know you’re Sylvie's
roommate. I didn’t tell him.”
My grumble earned me surprised silence, and I ran my fingers through
my hair absently as my mind whirred furiously. How the fuck was I supposed
to make this better? I was doing all I could to keep Illya out of Mateo’s
sights, and it wasn’t all that difficult because he only cared about his baby,
but . . .
“Why didn’t you?” Licking my teeth as I gripped the wheel again, I
slowly eased into a wide turn, and Illya’s question bounced around in my
skull. Why hadn’t I? After all, I would’ve made my work easier if I’d told
Mateo what I knew. Glancing at her, with her pained, pale features and the
muscles straining in her neck and shoulders, I pursed my lips thinly.
“If I told him, he’d probably nab you and hold you hostage with Sylvie. I
don’t want that. Mateo’s my boss, but I wouldn’t spend time with him if he
didn’t pay me a huge chunk of change.” She winced at my confession, and I
reached with my mangled hand to cover her palm on the center console. Her
fingers were ice cold and trembling, and I rubbed the top of her hand with my
thumb. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Illya.”
“I bet you didn’t, but it still happened.” Graveness dragged down the
corners of my mouth, and she sniffed hard from the passenger seat. “Listen,
okay, I really, really don’t need this right now, okay? I’m dealing with my
own shit, and I’m not particularly keen on looking over my shoulder forever,
so just . . . just ignore me, and I’m going to forget this ever fucking
happened.”
For what was probably a good reason, I just kept my mouth shut. I had a
feeling Illya didn’t care what I said in this moment. She just wanted to get
home and not be in such horrible pain. I understood that, at least. Not to
mention that I kept fucking up every time I saw her, and our past encounters
weren’t exactly in my favor right now.
 Illya was beautiful with her long face and slender form and nice, tight ass
and her perky tits, but the more I learned about her, however begrudging, the
stronger she seemed, too. She was the girl that beat the odds, and I thought
that was sexier than her body. Casting her a sidelong look, I scanned her
haggard face and the thick bead of sweat trickling down her jawline.
“Do you want to stop and— ”
“No, damnit! I want to go home!” Screeching at me, Illya slammed her
fist into the dashboard, and her palm slipped out from under mine. Sitting in
the seat fully, tears rolled down her cheeks in frustration and pain, and I
trained my gaze on the road. “Take me home! Take me home now!”
My face heated as she cried quietly in the passenger seat, and my knee
bounced wildly from the tension gorging my muscles. I couldn’t get a read on
her. Was she headstrong or a little weak-minded? Would she stab me in a
fight or run away? An ugly, black blotch spread across my chest as her
sniffles echoed against the windows, and I flexed my fingers against the
wheel.
The minutes ticked by into arduous infinity before I pulled up in front of
her disgusting apartment building, but Illya didn’t get out of the car. She
looked kind of green when I turned on the overhead light, like she was in so
much pain she was going to throw up. Her face was ghostly pale, her glazed
eyes unfocused under heavy lids, and I waited . . . and waited . . . and waited.
Leaving my car running, I climbed out of the driver’s side and pulled
open the back door. Hoisting Illya’s bike out of my car, I left the busted lock
and chain on the seat before heading for the building. My chest tightened
with regret. I should’ve left her alone like she wanted.
What was I even doing? The thought had no answer I carried her bike up
the stairs to her apartment door. I couldn’t remember the last woman I’d been
with. It must’ve been when I was in Italy, and that was over ten years ago.
With my deployments and my hand and all my drama, I’d just . . . No one
wants to deal with a disabled veteran.
Illya was the first person in a long, long time that hadn’t stared at my
hand like it belonged in a grotesque museum. Maybe that was why I was so
fixated on her.
Propping her bike against her door, I took the stairs again, and Illya was
struggling to get out of the passenger seat. My heart jumped into my throat at
the tortured shadows playing on her face, and I fast-walked to pick her up.
Her gasp sucked the heat from my neck and face, but some of the tension in
her eased as I hooked my arm under her knees.
“Don’t scare me like that. What if you fell?” My growl didn’t provoke a
response, and I scanned Illya before realization slammed into my gut.
“Where’s your stupid fanny pack thing?”
“Huh?” She slurred heavily, and a single glance at Illya’s face told me
she was on the verge of passing out. Her head flopped back only to jerk up
with a pained gasp breaching her lips, and she tensed in my arms. Kicking the
door shut, I ignored my own question for now as I carried her into the
building and up the stairs. For once, I was glad my fingers got shredded and
not my leg.
I wasn’t a dumbass. Every single important thing Illya owned could fit
into that stupid fanny pack, which probably included her keys. Reaching the
top of the stairs, I strode down the hallway towards her door, and I paused in
front of it as my mind whirled. The first time I’d been here, I’d picked the
locks, but I didn’t exactly have that option.
“Fuck it.” Tightening my grip on Illya’s firm body, I grabbed the knob
with my bad hand and shoved my shoulder into the door. Jerking the knob to
jar the door up, a grunt escaped me as the door gave way with a sharp splinter
from the frame. “Fuck.”
Nothing had changed about Illya’s apartment since I’d last been here
except for the fact that one of the cots was folded up on the floor. Somehow,
she was still away, and I sat her down on the open cot before she lifted her
hand up to push my face weakly.
“Go away. I ne-never want to see . . . see you again.” Her slow sputtering
stung, but she laid down very carefully to turn away from me. Tears and
sweat soaked her hair, and streams of green dripped down her neck and
stained her shirt. Standing up straight, I clenched and released my good hand
by my side as I debated what to do.
Not that any of my attempts to not fuck up have succeeded. Rubbing the
back of my head and neck, I inhaled a deep, calming breath and took a step
back. Gazing at her as she writhed on her cot, her neck craned hard, eyes
squeezed in pain, I covered my mouth to hide my scowl. She’s got every right
not to want to see me again.
“Damn.”
12

Illya
My eyelids popped open, and the fine hairs on my face bristled with the
sensation of being watched. Grogginess slowed my mind, and I flung my arm
over my eyes to block out the weak sunlight that streamed through where the
curtains didn’t cover. Lead enveloped my muscles, and my lungs struggled to
fill as I took a deep breath.
“I told you to go away, Theo.” I was so damn tired of this guy, and I
tossed my head to the side to frown. Theo sat on the other cot, shoulders
hunched, like a tiger ready to pounce, and he matched my expression with
furrowed brows. “Why won’t you just go away? I had to leave work because
you hurt me, and you did that creepy thing when you washed my hands after
we found Sylvie. Are you just not making the connection? I want you to
leave me alone.”
“We found your friend in a heroin den, and I could tell how skeeved out
you were.” His gruff reply sent a spasm of irritation through my cheek, and I
braced my hands on the metal support bars of the cot to gingerly sit up.
Sucking in a sharp breath when my bandages rubbed my skin raw, I glanced
down to find myself stilly fully clothed. Surprise bubbled up in my chest, and
I pursed my lips thinly as my gaze flickered to Theo. “I’m taking you out for
breakfast.”
Scowling darkly, I opened my mouth to tell Theo to fuck off, but my
words dried at the sharp glare he shot me. Clamping my mouth shut to grind
my teeth, my stomach grumbled with need, and I exhaled slowly before
forcing myself to nod a jerk of my chin. He stood up, and on my cot, it
almost looked like his head would bash into the ceiling, he was so tall and
broad.
“Let’s go.” Throwing my legs over the side of the cot, I winced as I stood
up myself, the tender skin on my chest pulling taut. Holding up my hand to
stop Theo, I struggled not to run my fingers through my hair.
“Hold on. I have to wash my hair. I’m not supposed to have the dye in for
more than six hours. What time is it?” Curiosity mingled with annoyance and
impatience on Theo’s face as he pulled a brand-spankin’-new phone out of
his jean pocket.
“Nine-twenty-two in the morning.” My eyes widened, and an almost
amused smirk played on his hard, jagged features. “Not used to being up so
early?”
“Um . . . no.” I tore my eyes off him to grab my blanket in an attempt to
fold it, but the whole top half of the cot was covered in green dye. Blinking
hard, I scrunched up my face at the fact that I’d have to spend money
unnecessarily. “Damn.”
Of course, I could just wash it all and deal with the stains, but going to a
laundromat was probably more expensive than getting a new blanket and
pillowcase. Keen eyes followed me as I shuffled towards the corner
designated as the kitchen, and I pressed my palms down on my hips to arch a
little. My back popped, and a gust of a sigh escaped me before I grabbed the
bathroom door handle.
Pausing to look over my shoulder, I frowned as Theo stared at my ass
with an appreciative glint in his eye.
“Don’t try to come in the shower with me or anything creepy like that.”
His narrowed gaze snapped to my face at my demand, and I hid my surprise
when he only nodded silently. “Seriously.”
“I won’t creep on you in the shower, Illya. I know I’m not making the
best case for myself, here, but I wouldn’t do that . . . unless you asked me to.”
Arching a brow quizzically, my frown deepened, and Theo scanned me from
top to bottom above thinned lips. “I’m not a creep. I think we got off on the
wrong foot, here.”
“Right.” Pushing the door open with that skeptic reply, I shut myself in
the bathroom to lean against the barrier and heave a massive sigh. “What the
fuck?”
Jerking the shower curtain closed, I turned on the knob to just above
lukewarm and gingerly peeled off my shirt. A fury of emotions bombarded
my chest and squeezed my heart, and I scowled at the edge of the shower
rising up off the old, cracked tiles.
If Theo wasn’t a creep, why the shit did he stick around in my apartment
and watch me sleep for twelve hours? What the Hell did he consider that kind
of thing if not straight-up weird? And, now, he basically strong-armed me
into going to breakfast for . . . for what? To show me he wasn’t a creep? That
he could do normal things that weren’t glaring and scowling and occasionally
doing a shitty parking job?
 “Ow.” Torn from my thoughts when I climbed out of my jeans to unsnap
my leotard, I held my breath as I rolled the fabric up my chest. “Ow-w-w
shit.”
My bandages stuck to my skin, and I pulled my bodysuit over my head to
tug the taped end free. Blowing out a hot breath, my hands shook as I
carefully unwrapped my torso, and I winced as swear acted like a glue
against my scar.
Could such extensive burns even be called a single scar, or was it like a
conglomerate of scars?
“Oh, my God.” Covering my mouth with my free hand, clamminess
tingled against my lips, and I choked on a gasp. It seemed like forever before
I’d unraveled myself, and I rolled up the bandage to toss it into the trash by
the toilet. My bathroom was so small that one ninety-degree turn and I was in
front of the sink, and the other way, the toilet. I didn’t have to take a single
step except to get into the shower, and goosebumps blanketed my body.
I just had to wash my hair. Such a concept was simple, but putting it into
practice was much harder. My chest tightened and spasmed from the streams
of cold water, not frigid but not warm, either, and I turned my back to the
showerhead. Squeezing my eyes shut, I took stabilizing, forceful breaths as
my heart rate jacked up, and I straightened my curled spine as I slowly but
surely got used to the pain.
“Shit.” Green ran in rivers down my body, and I grabbed my shampoo to
help wash all the color out. My hands still shook, but I didn’t pay it any mind
as I let the pounding on my scalp massage my haggard brain.
I need to take my contacts out. My face was so caked in shit that I hadn’t
even remembered my contacts until that moment, and I scrunched up my
nose in irritation. I had developed something of a routine, and that’d been
shattered to pieces by Theo. Kneading my scalp and running my fingers
through my hair, I tensed and eased as raising my arms pulled the tissue on
my chest.
Theo might’ve only had two fingers and a thumb on one hand, but I
wondered if even he could handle seeing me naked. Shit, I didn’t even want
to see me naked most of the time. Rinsing my hair, I cracked open my eyes to
glance behind me, and a relieved sigh escaped me at the clear water dripping
from my hair. The long strands were black from being so soaked, and I
grabbed my face wash to stare down my front.
“What guy thinks this is attractive?” My palm hovered over my chest, and
I cupped my breast, or what little of it I still had. A dense lump formed in my
throat, and my grip on my fash wash bottle tightened as disgust battered the
backs of my eyes. I’d never— not ever— had sex without my shirt on and the
guy absolutely fucking trashed, just blind drunk. As messed up as that policy
was, I didn’t really have a choice.
One time, when I was still pretending to the world that I wasn’t homeless
and dirty, I’d taken off my shirt with my first serious boyfriend. He was
faceless now, but the image of him projectile vomiting at the sight of me—
that was a memory I’d never be able to scrub from my mind.
And Theo would be no different, I knew.
“Maybe I should do that so he’ll finally leave me alone.” The hot pink
flesh, swirling with tints of normal, pale coloring and purplish blotches in
some places, twitched noticeably as my breath flowed down it. An absolutely
enormous, sickly green-yellow bruise smeared across my side where Theo
had grabbed me, and I dragged my fingers down it. Only the crescent indents
of his fingernails really stung, and my lips thinned as I shook my head
viciously.
That wouldn’t work— Theo would just try harder. He’d see me as a
broken thing that he could try to fix. Maybe that’s not such a bad idea
considering my patchwork, duct tape job is failing so miserably.
13

Illya
“So . . . ” Breaking the silence only when we’d turned off my block, Theo
gripped the wheel with his good hand and held up his right with a sidelong
glance. “I was in Afghanistan about three years ago when my convoy was
attacked.”
He hesitated, his jaw ticking noticeably as he flexed his fingers, and my
eyes widened in horror. My heart nearly stopped beating at that short but
powerful confession, and I covered my mouth to hide my gasp even though it
echoed in the car. Theo chuffed lightly, his lips twisting in a rueful smirk, and
he reached over the center console to set his mangled hand on my knee.
“Technically, my ring finger got shot off at the first knuckle, but a bullet
went through the tire I was behind and the rubber exploded and sliced them
both clean off. I got med-evac’d to the States, and they decided that since I
wasn’t useful anymore that they should discharge me. When I got out of the
hospital, after agreeing to go to PT that I never went to.” Theo cast me an
almost fond smile— the softest, gentlest smile yet— and my heart throbbed
painfully as his fingers flexed against my jeans. “They gave me a bunch of
money and forgot about me. My family acted like nothing was wrong, which
was inarguably worse than being shoved out of the Marines before I was even
conscious.”
I opened my mouth only for nothing to come out, not even air, and Theo
cleared his throat roughly.
“I was four months into being a civvi when I was invited to my sister’s
house. To be honest, I wanted to go, which was my first mistake. It was a
family thing. She was having a gender reveal thing. Anyway, I’m there, and I
don’t drink so I’m stone-cold sober when she comes up to me and asks me to
do something that required both my hands.” A gasp of foreboding wrenched
from my throat, and Theo grunted in acknowledgment as his expression
darkened. “I obviously can’t do shit with this hand, so I told her so. She said
to my face, in front of fifty-odd family members and kids, that my fingers
getting blown off shouldn’t affect what I’m capable of doing, and that I
should try harder.”
 “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yeah. I basically told her if that’s what she thought, I’d happily cut
off her fucking fingers and see how much she likes it. My sister wasn’t too
excited about that. That was the point when I decided . . . fuck it. I’m the
oldest of six, and I’m being treated like that after being a Marine for eleven
years? It was a huge thing. I grabbed my sister and told her if she didn’t think
having two missing fingers was a huge deal, I’d cut them off her right there.
She started freaking the fuck out, and I put her hand on the table and pulled
out my knife. I’m not gonna lie— I probably could’ve handled it better. The
police got called. I got put in jail, and she pressed charges. At court, the old-
as-dirt judge was a Vietnam vet and sided with me, but I got a protection
order slapped on me. Honestly, it was a blessing in disguise. I always felt like
they were my family, so they’d stick by me if I just stuck it out and
eventually, I’d get somewhere.” Theo’s voice grew darker and deeper as his
tangent bounced off the dashboard, and I tensed when his fingers squeezed
my knee weakly. He didn’t even seem to notice, and my mind frantically
tried to keep up with his story as his car eased to a stop at a sign. “I shacked
up with Mateo because I went to Mexico intending to disappear and be a
hermit. He needed a bodyguard, and I needed money and something to do.
He pays really well.”
“You know he’s not Mexican, right?” Blurting out the only thing I could
think of, I gulped down the dense lump in my throat as Theo cast me a
quizzical glance. For the moment, I ignored everything he’d just told me. It
was too much to process right now, and maybe he knew that. Maybe he just
wanted to tell someone, and that unfortunate someone was me. “Uh-uh, he’s
not Mexican. His accent sucks, and I’d bet money he learned Spanish in a
classroom in a fancy boarding school or something.”
“How can you tell?” Oh, shit. Blinking hard at the question, dread
gnawed at my gut, and a twitch pulled up the corner of my mouth grimly.
“I lived in Mexico when I was younger. My parents were there for work
for a few years, and I’m pretty good with languages. Mateo isn’t a native
Spanish speaker, even as a household language. If I had to guess, I’d say he
got lucky with the looks.” Theo’s brows rose at my analysis, and I rolled my
lips between my teeth as I recalled the one and only time I’d met Mateo. “I
pretend to have a Spanish accent at work because it gets me more money,
especially on Wednesday and Thursday nights.”
The car rolled through the four-way as I spoke, and Theo grunted lowly
as he turned his attention to the road. My heart ached for him, and I
tentatively covered his right hand with mine. I knew exactly what that was
like, for everyone around me to act like what happened to me hadn’t changed
me. The only difference was that I was twelve when my traumatic event
happened.
“When did you enlist?” Launching my probe into the immense quiet, I
grazed my fingertips along the smooth scar tissue where Theo’s fingers
should’ve been. They must’ve taken out the knuckles and done some
grafting, and he swung into a turn before inhaling in preparation. It feels like
my skin.
“When I was seventeen, I graduated high school and went to the
recruitment office the next day. My family wasn’t very well off, and the
military would pay for my college. I wanted to be an engineer, but I ended up
going into the Marines instead as an infantryman. I found out I was really,
really good at it. I was going to be a career man until my hand got fucked
up.”
“I never considered the military to get out of my situation.” My mouth
dried at my own admission. I sure as shit would’ve done the exact same thing
if I could’ve. I knew I wouldn’t pass the physical, though, so there was no
point in trying. “I’m doing pretty okay now, though. I mean, compared to the
past, at least.”
“You were homeless.” His wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway, and
Theo’s hand twitched against my leg. “That must’ve sucked, but at least the
weather wasn’t too bad, right? No snow or anything.”
“Um . . . no snow, yeah.” Furrowing my brows over thinned lips, I turned
my gaze out the window as the grungy apartment blocks gave way to small
businesses and slightly cleaner streets. Theo had told me a lot about himself
in the short time we’d been driving, but I couldn’t help the reluctant pull at
the base of my throat. More often than not, things went sour fast and
intensely, and him confessing all this awful shit to me didn’t change what I
thought.
The notion that Theo was trying to make it up to me wasn’t something I
could turn down, though. He was creepy, sure, but not straight-up pervert-
sexual-offender creepy. He was just a lonely guy that thought something was
a good idea when it really wasn’t. I’m going to Hell for making excuses for
his behavior. That’s a red flag. He’s just a bundle of red flags.
“That was one thing that sucked. I was deployed in the Philippines for
four months during the monsoon season. There was mud literally up to my
elbows sometimes.” Theo turned onto a stretch of road by the train station,
and a sign climbed high above the single-story plaza emblazoned with a
waffle and a name. Licking my lips heavily, my stomach grumbled eagerly,
and I almost forgot what he said as soon as he said it. “I’d rather go back to
Afghanistan than go to the Philippines in monsoon season.”
The conversation fizzled out as we came closer and closer to our
destination, and Theo reluctantly pulled his hand out from under mine.
Pulling into the parking lot, he prowled for a spot, but I could see even in my
skewed peripheral that parking made him nervous. Keeping my eyes firmly
on the window, I picked at my fingers and tried not to tense when the first
available spot required some K-style maneuvering.
14

Theo
Leaning back in the booth of a fairly nice breakfast place, I propped my head
in my arm and watched Illya scan the menu. She seemed thinner than before
her shower, but that could just be her tank top. An apology clung to the backs
of my teeth, but I had a little bit of an issue getting it farther. Her fanny pack
hugged the edge of the table, she’d washed her face free of green and dried
tears and sweat, and my eyelid twitched before I lowered my arm to clear my
throat.
“Just so you know, I didn’t sit around your apartment all night. I’m not
that dense.” Pretty, light green eyes, real eyes, met mine over the rim of her
menu, and Illya arched a thin brow quizzically. “You said your parents lived
in Mexico, right? What’d they do?”
“Uh . . . my mom worked for the U.S. government, and my dad was a
stay-at-home father.” Reluctance seeped into her tone as curiosity sparked in
my chest, and I reached to rub my wrist under the table. I’d tried not to fuck
up my parking job, but I didn’t want to find a spot farther away. And they say
chivalry is dead. “I lived in Mexico for about two years, and I learned the
language really fast. We came back to the States when I was eleven.”
“Did it suck moving around like that?” Her thick, pink lips thinned, eyes
diverting to the menu, and my own narrowed on her as I propped my elbow
on the table to hold my chin. “Did your parents drag you around a lot?”
“Yeah, but at least they were alive.” Aw, fuck. The bland reply tightened
my chest as Illya clearly shut down the topic, and I clenched my jaw hard.
Long, nimble fingers raked through her hair to pull it over her shoulder, and
my gaze followed the movement. Despite all the dye, Illya had beautiful,
bouncy curls that I just wanted to wrap my fist in, and I tapped my cheek
absently.
“Were you an only child?” Shrewd eyes flashed hazel when she shot me a
glare from over her menu, and I struggled not to frown. “I just wanna know.”
My stubble bristled when Illya closed her menu with a soft flop and set it
on the table. Slumping into the seat, she gazed at me with frustration
changing the color of her eyes, and I scratched my cheek as prickles shot up
my arm. Clear as day, she was debating whether or not to chew me out about
asking questions, but I wanted to fucking know. That’s not a crime. Inhaling
through parted lips, she exhaled through her nose before sitting up and
clasping her hands on the table to cast me a stern look.
“I wasn’t, but I am now. Can we not talk about this? Actually, let’s not
talk about anything at all, okay? I really, really, really— and I cannot stress
this enough, Theo— don’t wanna talk about myself.” Gesturing between us,
Illya frowned deeply in displeasure, and apprehension gripped my heart in a
vice. “I came out to breakfast with you because you wouldn’t let me not. You
know where I live. You know where I work. You obviously don’t give a fuck
about hurting me because you’re using your guilt as an excuse to do the exact
opposite of what I want, which you clearly don’t care about, either. I’m
gonna eat, but that doesn’t mean that whatever you want to happen is gonna
happen.”
The thick muscles in my back tensed and released sharply as anger struck
my chest like lightning, but I forced myself to take a huge breath and hold it.
Craning my neck, I rolled my shoulders in an semi-successful attempt to
shirk off the sting of Illya’s calm declaration. Her half-hooded eyes
glimmered with weariness, like she expected me to jump across the table to
strangle her or something.
She held my gaze firmly, and I exhaled slowly before even thinking of
trying to open my mouth.
“You’re not gonna give up, are you?” Truth be told, I thought that if I was
just persistent enough, Illya would cave. Obviously, I was wrong, and she
shook her head quietly across the table as I rubbed my cheek and neck with
my good hand. “At the club, I didn’t get the impression that you were so
strong-minded.”
“Because it’s my job to listen to drunk guys complain about their wives
and sit on their lap, not give my opinion.” I only grunted at that, and Illya’s
frown darkened under furrowing brows as I sat back to keep my knee from
banging against the table. “I’ve told you half a dozen times, Theo, I’m
dealing with my own shit. I don’t need anything more piled on.”
I opened my mouth, but my words never rolled off my tongue when my
phone began to trill shrilly. The only numbers I had in the new device were
Mateo’s and my favorite pizza place, and I scowled as I fished it from my
pocket. A childish disappointment hit me when I saw it was my boss. There
was always the hope that, somehow, I’d won free pizza for life. Inhaling a
steadying breath, I swiped the Accept button and slumped deeper into the
booth.
“What?” Mateo had been insufferable since nabbing Sylvie, and she still
hadn’t come down from that high we’d found her in. He strapped her to a bed
and left her with a doctor to throw a fit about her that lasted all night, and I
was honestly on the verge of shooting her myself. “I’m busy, Mateo. Make it
quick.”
“Find me Sylvie’s roommate and bring her here— now.” His snarl into
the phone rang in my ear, but Mateo didn’t intimidate me. The fine hairs on
the back of my neck stood up at his demand, and I sat up stiffly as the line
crackled ominously. “I need to ask her some questions.”
“The fuck do you want her roommate for? Sylvie’s so fucking high she
hasn’t even started withdrawal yet. I know you want to cling to the hope that
things will be fine, Mateo, but they won’t be. I fucking guarantee you.”
Frustration of my own sharpened my tone, but Mateo’s frosty silence didn’t
deter me. My gaze flickered to Illya, and worry bled into her eyes as I
covered my mouth to hide my sneer. “I’m not doing that. You don’t honestly
think the drug use is inconsequential and you’ll get lucky? Bullshit. Accept
the fact that you knocked up a drug addict and shoot her already.”
“Do it, Theo, or I’ll shoot you.” Snorting roughly, I ignored the
questioning glance Illya sent me as pure, undiluted amusement bubbled up in
my chest. I couldn’t help myself as I chuckled darkly, and Mateo’s threat
breezed through my mind with all the force of a bug being blown against a
window.
“You can try that shit with your little cronies, Mateo, but you don’t scare
me. You’re an immature little shit— doing what you’re doing just proves
that.” Mateo was a spoiled brat, finding himself in a position of power
because his brother was the head of the whole thing. It was really a shame
because I’d met his brother— Carlyle was the guy to be afraid of. A threat
from him would make me run for the hills and not look back. “If you ever
threaten me again, Mateo, I’ll break your fucking neck.”
I hung up, consequences be damned, because, frankly, Mateo was starting
to get on my nerves. Sliding my phone towards the wall, by the syrup and salt
and pepper shakers, I crossed my legs under the table to lean back with a
heavy sigh. Illya was quiet, her face pensive across the vast expanse between
us, and I waited for her to say something. The longer the silence stretched,
the more troubled her expression became, and I couldn’t imagine what she
must’ve been feeling.
“Is Sylvie really pregnant, and that’s why she went back to heroin? She
never . . . ” She trailed off a little heartbrokenly, and betrayal reddened her
cheeks as her eyes narrowed on the pointed, laminated corner of her menu. “I
guess we weren’t as close as I thought.”
“Mateo seems to think he’ll have a little, happy family and the kid won’t
come out fucked up somehow. Honestly, I’ve got half a mind to call his big
brother and snitch, but I’m sure Carlyle already knows about the situation. If
it were me, well, I wouldn’t be so fucking stupid to not use a condom in the
first place, honestly. I can’t imagine this wasn’t part of some plot, either, but
you know Sylvie better than I do.” Having a baby born addicted to drugs was
just plain cruel, and Illya picked up her menu to hide behind it. My mind
whirred with options over how to proceed because there was no fucking way
I’d just bring Illya to Mateo. Really, it had more to do with all the suffering
Illya went through about Sylvie. Why’d that bitch deserve to wring out any
more that her friend might not have? “I’m not bringing you there. Mateo can
figure this out on his own. He wanted to launch headfirst into this shit pool,
so he can deal with being up to his neck in it.”
“To be honest, this is exactly something Sylvie would’ve done before she
got clean. She must’ve been using longer than I realized.” Her grumble from
around the menu sent a twitch of sympathy through my cheek, and she sunk
into her side of the booth. “Ugh.”
“You had nothing to do with that, Illya.” What a stupid ass thing to say.
Lowering her menu, Illya shot me a small, grimy smile, and I grabbed my
own menu for the first time since sitting down.
“Maybe not, but here I am . . . having something to do with it. Somehow,
I always get dragged into shit.” My lip twitched in a slight snarl, but I had
nothing to say to that because Illya was right. At least, thus far, she tried so
hard to stay out of the drama, but it sucked her in any way.
15

Illya
“We’re going the wrong way.” Theo cast me a dismissive sidelong glance,
and I frowned deeply as apprehension bubbled up in my chest like hot tar.
“You’re not really taking me to Mateo, are you?”
“Of course not. This has nothing to do with Mateo and his stupid, childish
tantrum.” Grumbling harshly, Theo pulled to a stop at a light behind two
other cars, and he tore his eyes from the road to meet mine. “You were right,
Illya. You try really hard to stay out of it. I was wrong.”
My brows rose high in surprise, and a bark of incredulous laughter burst
from my throat devoid of humor. Theo’s lips thinned, his jaw ticking, and I
could’ve sworn on my life that I saw his ears tinge pink at the lobes before he
turned to glare at the wheel. The echo of my shocked noise bounced off the
windows to ripple across my face, and I reached to put my hand on his broad,
muscular shoulder. He tensed as his heat-blasted away my discomfort from
his declaration, and he caught my gaze behind guarded lenses.
“I appreciate that, Theo.” These tiny, tiny— almost unnoticeably tiny—
moments were becoming more frequent, and I couldn’t help but smile when
Theo jerked his head in a stiff nod. “So, where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there. It’s a bit of a ride, so get comfortable.” He
grabbed my hand and held palm to his chest, and the clumpy scar tissue rose
the hairs on my arm. “I bet you would’ve done well in the military. I knew
guys that didn’t have balls as big as yours.”
The awkward compliment sent fire to engulf my face, and my smile
widened as Theo rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. His palm was
hard, and I didn’t pull back even as he propped his knee under the wheel to
flick on his blinker as we neared a highway on-ramp. A warm fuzziness
wrapped around my heart, and I huffed hot air as it was replaced with a
strange happiness.
I got the sense that Theo didn’t compliment someone just because. He
honestly wasn’t that bad when he didn’t overthink things, but I was sure
that’s why he brought me out in the first place. If it works, it works.
“Don’t worry about Mateo. It’s really his brother you want to stay away
from. I met him once, and I’d rather not ever be in the same room as him. I
know killers when I see them.” There wasn’t much I could do but nod, and
Theo flicked off his blinker as he merged onto the ramp smoothly. “When I
started working for Mateo, he got a visit from Carlyle. They were having a
conversation I wasn’t listening to in some restaurant in Portugal, and that
motherfucker just pulled out a gun and shot me. I still have the bullet in my
shoulder. He told me he was disappointed I didn’t beat the shit out of him—
he could’ve killed Mateo and I would’ve failed my ‘mission’.”
Theo almost seemed impressed by his own story, and my brows rose in
interest even as he went quiet to focus on merging onto the highway.
Glancing around, he twisted briefly, and I held the handle on the door when
he swerved sharply into the middle lane. He didn’t let go of my hand, and my
fingers tingled as his muscles flexed under his shirt. Positively, Theo had
experience driving with one hand, but it was still kinda terrifying in a muted,
knee-jerk kind of way.
“Uh . . . so, I said that I didn’t care if he killed Mateo, as long as no one
else did. Carlyle laughed at that. It was the coldest, creepiest shit ever, like
serial killer creepy, not . . . ” Trailing off as a huge oil tanker breezed past us,
Theo clenched and released his jaw while his nerves rattled up my arm. “I
hate highways so much.”
“I knew this girl in alternative school . . . ” Inhaling deeply as the tanker
sped by completely, passing the nose of Theo’s car, I clicked my teeth
absently. Memories of those three months raced through my mind’s eye, and
a frown dragged down the corners of my mouth. “She was nuts. I was only
there for three months for my GED, but in that time, she tried to stab the
teacher twice. She got busted for smoking meth in the bathroom. She picked a
fight with this other girl from a gang, and she got her place broken into and
was raped by those guys. When she came back, she bragged about being in a
relationship with one of them and got his name tattooed on her neck a week
later.”
“She did all that and was never arrested?” Shaking my head, I shrugged at
the questioning glance Theo shot me. I mean, the answer was obvious. I lived
in LA at the time, and that kind of thing in that type of neighborhood was
almost typical. There were worse people out there, and as long as she only
hurt herself, people were content to leave her alone.
Plus, she had no teeth, so whenever she talked to someone, she spit in
their face. Nobody wanted to get too close.
 “So, did you ever think of going to college?”
“And get saddled with debt? No, thanks. I’ll manage on my own.” My
comeback earned me a snort of agreement, and I frowned as I thought far, far
back. “I don’t think there was a single time in my life— even before it went
to shit— when I thought college was a good idea. I wouldn’t know what to
go for, and I just know that going would kill whatever I went for if I had a
passion for it.”
“You like to dance ballet, though.” Humming softly, I shook my head,
and Theo cast me a confused furrow of his brow. “You looked really excited
when Mateo asked you.”
“Theo.” A small, warm smile stretched my lips, and I reached to scratch
his stubble— stubble that he hadn’t had last night at the club. He tensed,
gripped the wheel hard as he sucked in a sharp breath, and a soft sigh escaped
me. “It was a lie so he’d pay me more. And it worked. I can’t do ballet
anymore, even though I did like it before.”
“What do you like, then? Not your stripper alter ego, divesting the rich to
give to your poor once the sun goes down?” Giggling a little at that, I
withdrew my hand only for him to grab my wrist and keep my fingers on his
skin. He cast me an almost fatuous look, like a toddler that didn’t want to let
go of his mom’s neck. Every time he does this kind of thing, like with the
shirt, It makes it a little harder to dislike him.
“What do I like? I don’t even know anymore. It’s been a long time since I
did anything just because I liked it. What do you like to do in your spare
time, Theo?” Curiosity infected my tone, and he sat back in the seat to tilt his
face against my fingers. His jaw ticked under the butt of my palm, and I held
my breath in anticipation.
“Sometimes, I go to the casino in San Diego. I don’t gamble much,
though. I won a plot of land in a small craps tournament the last time I was
out that way. It’s in NoCal somewhere. I’m pretty sure they included it in the
tournament because some guy wanted chips but had no money, so he gave
them the deed.” My brows rose, and Theo smirked slippery as mischief
twinkled in his eye. “Didn’t win that at the good casino, though.”
“I was gonna say . . . I don’t think that’s legal.” He seemed to be coming
out of his shell a little, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The
car fell into silence as we zipped out of town, and I gnawed on my cheek as I
turned my gaze out the window.
This isn’t happening. What a joke. I should’ve packed my shit and run
away again as soon as Sylvie got dragged into this car. I’d be halfway to
Canada by now if I was smart. My tongue soured as I licked the backs of my
teeth, and I frowned under the slight crease between my brows. Either Theo
was a creep, and I wanted to not be around him, or . . .
We had moments . . . really nice moments, like the one I was currently
immersed in. Those few seconds— that intense, brief connection— made me
want to go deeper under the surface. I knew better, but that didn’t matter. I
didn’t want to end up dead, but what was my life right now?
The truth was that I was worse than dead, and if Theo made it a little
better for a little while,why shouldn’t I enjoy that? Grinding my teeth to hold
back a groan of frustration, my blood simmered in my veins as my mind went
around and around in circles.
16

Illya
“You’re quiet.” Tearing my eyes off the oncoming sign emblazoned with
‘Pine Valley— Next Exit,’ I flexed my fingers as a slight, tingly numbness
slithered up my arm. Theo’s pensive expression disappeared, but not fast
enough, and a sigh dried my lips before I licked them in preparation.
“I know what I said at the waffle place earlier. I was just thinking . . . my
life’s really not worth living as it is right now.” His cheek twitched under my
fingers, and Theo didn’t protest as I pulled away to twiddle my thumbs in my
lap. “I don’t want to kill myself. I hope things will get better, and I’m trying
really hard to make it better. But I’m really, really unhappy. I live in a shit
place. I work in a shit place. And I know that it’s better than it was before,
but why am I content with that? That’s fucked up. The whole concept of life
right now is messed up.”
“Isn’t that the point of working hard? So you can make your life worth
it?” There was no judgment in his tone, only slight confusion and a little
worry at my words. I mean, who wouldn’t be worried about some deep,
philosophical shit like what’d just come out of my mouth? “You don’t have
to worry about Sylvie anymore. That’s one issue down, right?”
“I may not have to worry about her, but now I have to worry about
money. I know it’s a grind— that’s not the issue. I just . . . sometimes, I just
want things to get better overnight with minimal work on my part.” A sour
smirk twisted my lips at how stupid that desire was, and I ran my free hand
through my hair absently to pull the strands over my shoulder. “It’s dumb and
unrealistic, but . . . ”
“It’s not dumb, Illya.” My cheeks warmed as Theo reached to stroke my
jaw with stiff fingers, and I blinked back the sting in my eyes. “You’ve been
through a lot. Just because other people have had it worse or are more lucky
doesn’t negate that.”
“You know . . . I honestly don’t know why. Like you said earlier, why
don’t I just give in, huh? Why don’t I just take my pants off and hope it’s
enough? My mom used to tell me that anything I did in desperation wasn’t
something to be ashamed of. It may not be panic, but I would consider myself
desperate, I guess.” Casting Theo a wry glance, my lips quirked up at the
ghost of a thought that flittered through my head. “This is the part where you
say you’re not gonna take advantage of me.”
“Like fuck I’d be stupid enough to turn you down, Illya.” He said the
words, but I could tell that screwing me wasn’t really the focal point of his
conviction. Stopping at the end of the off-ramp, he flicked on his blinker
before catching my eyes firmly. “Your mom is right— and why should you
have to take the brunt of someone else’s shitty choices? Sylvie put you in a
hole, and she’s not gonna help you crawl out. That’s fucked up, Illya, not
confronting the fact that, for the foreseeable future, your life is gonna suck.
You know it. You accept it. And it’s not gonna change overnight like you
want, but that’s okay because you always had to fight for everything, right? If
you don’t fight for this, where’s the big ‘fuck you’ to the world, huh?”
“You know, Theo, I like you better when you’re not trying to be
romantic.” His head snapped to the side to face me, and his two fingers slid
off my chin to curl around my shoulder. For a long moment, he just stared at
me, and a fury of emotions played in his eyes before he twisted forward
again. Gripping the wheel tightly, he pulled off the ramp and onto a road, and
huge oaks line either side of us.
“We’re here.” A gorgeous, hand-painted, hand-carved, wooden sign hung
over the mouth of a long driveway, and I rolled my bottom lip between my
teeth to gnaw diligently.
“A rehab center? Why’d you bring me to a rehab center?”
“It’s a rest and rehabilitation resort— not a rehab center. Just trust me,
Illya. You’ll like it.” Perfectly manicured lawns clung to even more perfectly
laid stones that lined the drive, and Theo cleared his throat roughly as he
drove up the winding, uncracked asphalt. “Mateo comes here when he can’t
handle the adult world.”
“O-oh . . . ” Well, that answered that question. I really doubted Theo was
the kind of guy to get a facial and a pedicure after a long day. The sprawling
grounds were lush and green, and people were just milling around enjoying
themselves. “I could work every day of my life and not afford to come to a
place like this.”
“I know.” Scrunching up my nose at that, I crossed my arms over my
chest as we reached the top of the long drive. The mansion that stood at the
end of the asphalt was bigger than my entire apartment block combined, and
my eyes widened to take it all in. Huge, spiral columns of granite held up an
empty balcony, and I craned my neck to press my face against the window.
The vehicle jostled to a stop, and someone dressed in a smart uniform that
may have cost more than Theo’s car came bounding down the steps.
He opened my door for me, smiling welcomingly, and anxiety slammed
into my chest as I swung my legs out. Another person rounded the front of
the car and let Theo out, and I stood up to gaze at this disgusting display of
insane wealth. And I get to experience it.
“Come on.” I tore my eyes off the mansion, and Theo took my hand to
lead me up the perfectly polished, dirt— free, marble steps. “Mateo bought a
room here we can use.”
“W-we? Theo, no.” My heart jumped into my throat, but I didn’t want to
scuff the floor by trying to stop. The ruined skin on my chest throbbed in
fiery irritation, and he twisted before pausing when he caught sight of the
apprehension on my face. Four fingers and a thumb threaded between mine,
and a frown marred his expression as he shook his head roughly.
“Mateo will know I’m here. They’ll call and tell him. I don’t want him
showing up and finding you alone. That’s all. Like I said, he doesn’t know
that you’re Sylvie’s roommate, and I want to keep it that way.” Skepticism
dried my mouth, and Theo’s frown morphed into a scowl as prickles raced up
and down my spine. “What?”
“What if he does show up? Theo, I can’t afford to be in debt to that
asshole over a couple hours in a real bed and a nice massage. Please.” I didn’t
recognize the keening tone in my voice, and my palms clammed up as I took
a step back. “This is a bad idea, okay. I can’t do this.”
“We’ll just rent a room. I just thought it’d be easier since Mateo already
has one, and it’s got complimentary features.” Sure, the more I hung around
Theo, the easier it was to figure him out, but it was also becoming startlingly
apparent that he was stubborn as all Hell. Pursing my lips thinly at that
alternative, I started to shake my head, but Theo’s scowl only darkened.
“Consider it a gift— no repayment or expectation.”
“Theo, I . . . ” I know you’re trying to be nice, but this is making me sick
and uncomfortable. The words balanced on the tip of my tongue, but I could
see it in his tight features that he was starting to burn his fuse and get
frustrated. Something had to cave, and I didn’t want it to be me, but . . . “I
guess that’s okay.”
His eyes brightened in a mix of surprise and satisfaction, and he squeezed
my hand before leading me up the stairs. My feet tingled in my ratty sneakers
as I stepped very lightly, and I glanced back to make sure I wasn’t tracking in
dirt. The front doors of the mansion opened when we reached the top landing,
and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Opulence was a good word to describe this place— it was absolutely
dripping in creature comforts and expense. There were old-timey elevators
with personally closing doors opposite the reception desk, and a huge, grand
staircase. It was like being on the Titanic. Man, I wish Leonardo DiCaprio
was here.
“Welcome back, Mister Jackson.” Even the receptionist was beautiful in a
model kind of way, and she flashed us both a smile with red-painted lips. Her
high cheekbones cradled eyes that sparkled, but I guess she had something to
be happy about. Even if she hated her job for whatever reason, I was sure she
got paid in potato sacks instead of envelopes. “How can I be of service
today?”
17

Illya
“This is so comfy.” The short, silk robe was so soft and smooth that it didn’t
agitate my scars, and I smoothed the sides down my thighs gingerly. The
front closed just enough to cover my breasts, but not enough to hide the scars
climbing up over my shoulder. Glancing around the room— or should I say
‘suite’— I licked my lips as my gaze trained on the door leading to the living
area.
After exploring this suite bigger than three of my apartments, I just
wanted to jump into the massive, jet-spraying bathtub and never get out.
Even the separate shower had jets. Flexing my toes against the plush, soft
carpet, I wandered over to the closed bedroom door and gripped the handle.
Anxiety curdled my blood, and I took a deep, stabilizing breath before
turning the handle and cracking open the door. Theo sat on the semi-circular
sofa, but his head whipped up at the change of air— because the barrier
surely didn’t squeak in the slightest.
“I thought you wanted to waste away in the bath.” Flames licked my
cheeks as I shook my head, the only part of me he could see, and Theo sat
back on the sofa to stretch his long legs. “You just like to say shit, don’t you,
Illya? You never follow through, do you?”
“Yeah, I guess I don’t.” He had a point— every word that came out of my
mouth, I ended up not adhering to. I told him I didn’t want to be around him,
but here I was— in this place, alone, with him. I told him this wasn’t
happening, but it’d been a few hours, and I was already going back on my
word.
Stepping out from the door, I rolled my lips between my teeth as Theo
stiffened, his eyes narrowing into slits as he scanned my bare legs. A bulge
formed in his jeans, and my heart hammered against my ribs as I walked over
to sit next to him. His heat seared my arm where the half-length sleeve didn’t
cover.
I was stupid. There was nothing anyone could do to dissuade me from the
fact that I was just outright dumb at this point. I kept making the same
mistake over and over again, telling myself that afterward— afterward—
afterward, it’d stop.
But it wasn’t going to stop. From the second Theo opened that door in the
club, the ball started rolling down a hill, and all my attempts to throw
something in front of that ball only made it bounce.
“It’s horrible, isn’t it?” Speaking up softly, an ugly, self-deprecating
smirk twisted my lips, and I fiddled my fingers in my lap. “You think you’re
all that and then someone shows up and you realize that you’re not. You’re
big and bad until someone bigger and badder comes along. Then, you realize
that you’re just really . . . tired.”
“You don’t have to be the only one that cares about you, Illya.” My gross
smirk turned sad, and I sighed shallowly as I brushed a strand of hair behind
my ear. Theo’s eyes narrowed tighter at the action, and my scalp tingled
under my high, loose bun from the intensity of his gaze. “It’s okay to rely on
someone. That doesn’t mean being dependant on them.”
“What has that ever gotten either of us? Sylvie turned her back on me.
My family decided I was too fucked up to be bothered, so they shoved me
into foster care. And before you say it, you know just as well as I do that
you’d eventually screw me over, too. Whether or not you want to admit it,
you’re only as close to someone as their usefulness or convenience allows.”
Surrounded by all this pomp and gaudy beauty, I felt small and insignificant,
and Theo grunted lowly in acknowledgment. “I wish you hadn’t brought me
here.”
Theo grabbing me, causing me so much pain, bruising my already
destroyed body, it seemed like so long ago even though it was just last night.
I said things and acted the exact opposite, but did I really know what I
wanted anymore? I didn’t want to struggle financially. I wanted a place to
live that wasn’t infested with cockroaches and ants. I wanted a regular job
that required me to make strangers think I gave a shit about them.
Laying down on the sofa, I rested my cheek on Theo’s thigh, but he
didn’t tense or grab my bun or anything. Closing my eyes, I savored the
tentativeness of his hand as he pulled down my robe and rested his palm on
my hip. Warmth radiated from his touch, and I reached for his right hand to
plop it on my head.
And, ever so nicely, Theo started playing with my hair. His palm left my
hip as he leaned forward to snatch the remote off the coffee table, and he
propped back to recline the seat. Behind my shuttered lids, the television
flickered on, the sounds floating garbled in my ears, but he turned the volume
down and didn’t stop threading my hair through his thumb and forefinger.
He had such incredible resolve, and what did I have? Some flimsy,
bullshit declaration that I couldn’t keep. Theo had every right to have that
first impression of me. I mean, what if my whole conviction was a lie? What
if I had everything backward, and I was just pretending to be strong?
Was there harm in just giving up, or was I just screwing myself over by
fighting?
“Hey, Theo?” A gruff hum met my mumble, and Theo worked his three
fingers under my bun to scratch my scalp. “What did you think when you
first saw me? Before everything— even going into the VIP room— what was
the first thing that came to mind when you opened the door?”
He inhaled deeply, sinking a little lower into the sofa, and I curled my
toes in anticipation of his answer.
“I was kinda pissed you were wearing contacts and hair dye. I had a
feeling you were a lot more beautiful without them, and I was right.” Stiff
fingers curled slightly in my bun, and Theo exhaled heavily as the light of the
television combatted the memories. “I get why you do it, though. I wondered
what color your eyes were and whether or not your ass was as tight as it
looked in your leotard.”
Sitting up, I shuffled wordlessly to straddle Theo’s lap, and he stiffened
with a sharp whistle of an inhale. Facing the television, thoughts were
strangely absent from my mind, and I leaned back as heat seeped into my
veins. He stared straight ahead, but his chin jerked when I tilted my head to
brush my lips along his jaw.
“Is it?” Reclined in the seat, Theo’s abdominal muscles rippled against
my ass as I ground against him, and a powerful rattle jolted up my spine. “We
both know whatever comes out of my mouth is a lie. Maybe that’s why it’s so
frustrating— lies are so hard to keep up with.”
Incredible, defined muscles played along the length of my back, and Theo
ground his teeth audible in my ear. Rolling my hips against his bulge, I
gripped his forearms just as he braced his fists around my calves, and his
thick arm hair tickled between my fingers. My tongue snuck out to scrape
against his stubble, and I shivered at the heady taste of him.
“Will fucking me give you the answer you’re looking for, Illya?” I paused
at the probe, and Theo growled in displeasure as he thrust to keep the friction
going. “I’m not gonna say ‘no’ but it’s not gonna be my fault if it doesn’t do
what you think it will.”
 “I don’t even know what the question is, Theo.” His cheek twitched
against my forehead as my breath rolled down his neck, and I groaned softly.
Unhooking his left hand from around my leg, he reached up, and my heart
jumped into my throat as my nails dug into his arm. “Don’t touch me there.”
The atmosphere became tense at my snap, and the sensation seeped
through my melted skin to send tingles shooting down my sternum. Slowly,
Theo lowered his hand to open my robe, and I released his forearm to hold
the top closed. His jaw clenched against the bridge of my nose as I clutched
the plain, white silk, but if he wondered, he didn’t do the stupid thing and
open his mouth.
“Oh . . . ” Calloused fingertips circled my clit through my panties, and I
gasped as shocks skittered through my abdomen. Pleasure flared to wrap my
heart in a vice, and I thrust my hips against Theo’s palm in hot eagerness.
“More . . . ”
“Yeah?” Nodding hastily at his low growl, goosebumps blanketed my
body, and I licked my lips heavily. Theo pulled my underwear to the side,
and I clenched in expectation and this growing desire to just feel light. Rough
fingertips circled my bead, and pleasures tightened my abdomen as I rested
my head on his shoulder. Knowing fingers spread my folds, and a gasp burst
from my throat when he ground the butt of his palm against me.
“Theo . . . Theo . . . Theo . . . oh-h-h . . . ” His body jolted at my back,
muscles taut, skin burning mine, as he thrust two fingers into my channel,
and I moaned his name. Arching to roll my hips, my chest throbbed fiercely,
but I ignored it for the moment to savor the sensation. Harsh pants sounded
above the blood pounding in my ears, and Theo curled his fingers to draw me
closer and closer.
Flopping forward, I braced my palms on his knees to roll and buck in
white-hot need, and Theo let go of my leg to grab my ass with his right hand.
His fingers inside me wiggled and curled, but he was quick to exit my
channel to slip his palm under my ass.
“Oh . . . God, yes!” My high-pitched keen when he shoved his fingers
past my entrance with a grunt rang in the room, and my knees lifted off the
sofa. “Yes . . . yes . . . yes!”
Pushing my ass up, I spread my thighs a little wider, and Theo ducked his
head to kiss and graze his teeth over my ass cheek. His knuckles bashed my
pelvis with each powerful jab of his hand, and two fingers quickly turned into
three. Clamping down on his thick digits, I scrunched up my face as my
thighs quivered around his forearm.
“Fuck . . . I’m gonna cum . . . make me cum . . . make me . . . I-I’m c-cu
— ” Shivers assaulted my spine, and I ducked my head with a cry as my
words dried up on my tongue. Theo twisted and curled his fingers deep inside
me, and my channel undulated wildly as he coaxed me to jump off the edge.
Waves of icy euphoria rippled up my chest, set cold fire to my ruined skin,
prickled up my collar bones, and I clenched my jaw as I sat back on his hand.
Sputtering a gasp, I spasmed weakly when Theo pulled out of me, and he
sighed to send frigidly cold air rolling up my back. Pushing me off him, he
grabbed my bun with his right hand, but he didn’t unfasten his jeans like my
addled mind expected. Instead, he just set my face on his thigh again, his soft,
scarred palm rubbing my face so gently.
Now, though, I had a question. One that I thought Theo had the answer
to.
What if trusting him doesn’t turn out to be a mistake like all the others?
18

Theo
My phone buzzed insistently beside me on the real leather of the couch, and
my eyelid twitched in agitation when I glanced at the caller I.D. Reaching for
my cell, I swiped the ‘Accept’ button because God only fucking knew that
Mateo would keep calling and calling like a douchebag.
“If you’re gonna harass me all God damn day, Mateo, I’m gonna block
your ass and quit.” Growling lowly into the phone, I scowled when Illya
tensed against my leg, and my lip curled into a snarl. “The fuck do you want,
huh? If it has anything to do with Sylvie— ”
“Get your ass back here, Theo, and bring the roommate, or you won’t
have to quit. I’ll put a bounty on you. I’m done playing this game.” Arching a
brow at the cold, detached tone that flowed through the line, I rolled my jaw
as my prickly beard bristled. I was not Mateo’s errand boy, or his friend, and
I carefully picked out what I was going to say. Irritation flooded my chest,
and I didn’t bother trying to hide it when I opened my mouth.
“I’ll get there when I get there.” I hung up on Mateo’s stupid ass, and I
set my phone down to flop my head back and scowl at the ceiling. He didn’t
scare me. Shit, nothing scared me anymore, even if Big Bro made me a little
nervous. I stroked Illya’s hair in the ensuing, heavy silence. “Hey, is your
name really Illya or is that your stage name or something?”
“It really is. It was my grandfather’s name.” Surprise rose my brows, and
she rolled onto her back to smile fondly when I looked down. “Yeah, it’s a
boys name. Ironically, he escaped Nazi persecution just to have his only
daughter die of smoke inhalation.”
Frowning as Illya’s smile soured, I rubbed her forehead with my thumb,
and my gaze flickered to the thick pad of scar tissue stretching over her
shoulder. Obviously, her parents hadn’t died natural deaths, but I wasn’t
going to ask. That was downright rude, and I had a hard enough time trying
to not come off as a pushy asshole.
“Will Mateo really have you killed if you don’t bring me back?” Licking
my teeth at that, I reached to scratch my scruff as a harsh sigh bubbled up in
my chest.
 “He can try. He’s too much of a pussy to do it himself. Not to mention, if
he put out a hit on me and people found out that it was for something as
stupid as not doing something that’s not even my job description, he might
get a visit from his brother.” Curiosity sparkled in Illya’s swirling, green
eyes, and I exhaled heavily as I weighed my options. “I put up with Mateo
because . . . why the fuck not, you know? I get paid a lot to keep him from
stubbing his toe. He’s not exactly the guy you want to bother to assassinate,
either, which makes my job easier. He runs things here, but that’s just to keep
him from fucking up the real operations because he’s incompetent.”
“Like fixating on Sylvie even though it’s not gonna end well.” Nodding
curtly, I slumped a little against the sofa, and Illya rolled back onto her side
to stare through the television mounted on the wall. “He does know she’s had
two back-alley abortions, right?”
“I’m positive he didn’t even see her in person, yet. I really couldn’t care
less, but Mateo needs to grow the fuck up. He’s only twenty-four and has a
raging case of rich-bitch syndrome, so maybe that'll be the thing that screws
him up just the right way.” She hummed softly, and I threaded my fingers
through her thick, silky hair to scratch her scalp. That, at least, was something
she liked that I hadn’t fucked up yet. “I know she’s your friend— or she was
— but, frankly, I would’ve gotten rid of her the second I found out if I was
Mateo.”
“Well, you’re not, so . . . ” Pushing herself onto her arms, Illya folded her
legs under her, and every move she made was so graceful that it stole my
breath. Gazing at me from under sunken hoods, she fluttered her lashes, and I
clenched my jaw hard. “You’re a lot more genuine, even if it backfires on
you sometimes, Theo.”
“I got one thing going for me, at least.” My palms itched to bury in Illya’s
long hair and kiss her, and she puffed out her lips like she wanted me to. I
wasn’t sure what I’d said that made that switch flip in her head, but I wasn’t
going to question it, either. Reaching to stroke her cheek, my mind whirred
with how fast and hard things went from Stop, do not pass Go to Collect two
hundred dollars. “I’ll get around to going back. If Mateo doesn’t want to be
treated like a kid, he shouldn’t act like one. It’s one thing to man-up when
you knock a one-night-stand up, but it’s another thing to go about it the way
he is.”
“Don’t you think he’ll find out eventually who I am? You can’t hide me
forever.” Illya inched a little bit closer, and I clenched my jaw when she put
her hand right on my crotch. My raging hard-on throbbed almost painfully,
and a glimmer shimmered in her cobalt green eyes. Squeezing my cock
outside my jeans, she puffed out a breath through her mouth, and my
abdomen tightened as desire thrummed up and down my thighs. She really
knew what she was doing, and I ground my teeth hard while my tongue stuck
to the roof of my mouth.
“I’m not hiding you. I brought you here because I felt guilty about what I
did last night. You deserve a little R-and-R, Illya.” There . . . fuck. The truth
worked before. Might as well just stick with that. “I was gonna leave you here
to enjoy some alone time, but then you started freaking the fuck out about—
”
Sucking in a sharp breath when Illya squeezed more firmly, I flopped my
head back as fire swirled in my lungs. In the second or two that I glared at the
ceiling, she attacked my jean fastenings, and I groaned when her fingers
wrapped around my shaft. Red flashed behind my lids when I blinked, but
she reached to touch my chin with her free hand instead of just diving down
headfirst.
Glancing over, my pupils narrowed at the pink tinge in Illya’s cheeks, the
brightness in her mossy eyes as they swirled with hazel.
“Theo.” My name caressed her lips, and goosebumps blanketed my bare
arms as she leaned in to brush her nose up my neck. Flames licked just under
my skin, and my throat flexed as every muscle in my body quivered with the
thick sexual tension floating in the air. “Don’t make me regret this. Please.”
“I probably might, but stick it out.” Realization slammed into my gut as it
knotted tighter with each pump of my cock, and Illya ground her forehead
into my cheek. “The one thing I’ll never do is lie to you, Illya. The other stuff
is accidental, but I’ll never lie to you.”
Every fucking person she ever met had lied to her somehow— her best
friend, her family, her coworkers, even the guy checking out her groceries.
Reaching to cup the back of her head, a growl built in my chest as her hot
breath rolled down my chest under my t-shirt. My lip curled into a snarl at
her little, broken hum, and she swiped the seeping head of my cock with her
thumb gently.
“I trust you. A little.” The soft whisper resonated deep in me, and I
gasped as Illya’s skin left my face. My right hand— or what was left of it—
disappeared into her luscious hair to gather it up, and I palms her back to pull
her robe up her hips. Plump lips teased my cock, and she spit to ease the
friction as pleasure rattled up my spine. Squeezing her tight ass, I nudged her
legs open, and my heart stuttered when she licked the head of my cock
thickly.
“Oh . . . fuck . . . ” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten a blowjob.
Most women looked at my hand and decided that I couldn’t deliver that shit
right back, so it must not have been worth it. Sucking on my head, Illya
squeezed hard as she pumped, and I thrust as a groan escaped me. Heat
skittered up my abdomen, and I parted her folds to rub her clit as she
gradually took me deeper down her throat.
Even sucking cock, Illya was graceful, her lips wrapping and releasing
until the head hit the back of her throat. Her knees slid outwards, and she
popped her ass up even as she tilted her head. Groaning when she swished
her tongue along the underside of my shaft, I pushed her head down until her
beautiful, little gag shattered the atmosphere.
“Illya . . . fuck . . . ” I’d had this hard-on all damn morning— since she so
politely told me to fuck off at the waffle place— and my breath hitched when
she gagged around my head. Pulling back, she sucked in a short breath, and I
closed my eyes and let my head fall back in pure bliss. “Yeah . . . ”
Circling her clit, my fingers slickened with Illya’s juices, and I clenched
my jaw as I worked two fingers into her tight channel. Her hot mouth took in
my cock again before she set a steady, deep pace, and her moan reverberated
up my shaft to bristle the hairs on my abdomen. When I fingered her, it’d
been frenzied and quick, but this was slow and savory, and damn, did Illya
know her way around a cock.
The roughness of her tongue along the thick vein under my cock was
tantalizing, and I pushed her head down and thrust up. Illya choked harshly
but didn’t pull away, her teeth grazing the base of my cock. Her soft palm
cupped my balls, and I sputtered a gasp as my heart palpitated in pleasure.
Grappling her perky ass with my good hand, I couldn’t do two things at once,
and her throat tightened around my head.
“Shit, Illya . . . I’m gonna cum . . . f-fuck . . . ” My voice shook with
need, and she moaned around my cock and squeezed my balls expertly.
Clenching my jaw hard, tingles shot up my thighs and down my spine to ball
up in my tailbone. “Stay like that . . . stay just like that . . . ”
And she fucking did. Illya tensed, not moving, and goosebumps swept
down her back against my forearm as her ass cheek flexed in my palm. My
cock rippled from the base up, and I held my breath as hot cum spurted from
my head and down her throat. Only then did she pull back to suck me dry,
and she pumped my cock as spasms raced up my legs. Forcing my eyes open,
I gulped harshly at the absolutely heavenly sight of her, her slender brows
furrowed, eyes glistening, face red. She was so fucking beautiful with her
hollowed cheeks and flexing throat as she greedily swallowed my cum.
That release almost fell to the wayside to Illya’s beauty, and I unhooked
my fingers from her ass to caress the sharp line of her jaw. Bright, swirling
eyes met mine, blazing with intense need, but I only cupped her face and
drew her to my chest. My heart thundered against her cheek, and she curled
up with satisfied, ragged pants that seeped through my shirt.
“You should take a really long, nice bath. Maybe take a nap in a real bed.
I’ll order room service. This trip is not gonna be ruined.” My harsh whisper
earned me a hiccup of a breath, and I stroked Illya’s face and hair as I sunk
into the sofa. Neither of us made any attempt to move, but I was perfectly
okay with that. She didn’t rub up against me. In fact, her chest didn’t touch
me at all, but she did put her hand on mine.
That was enough. That was more than enough.
19

Theo
Stepping into Mateo’s nice, high-security home, I glanced around as an eerie
silence met me. He lived the way a spoiled child lived, in a house too big,
with furniture that wasn’t used and a living room with a huge flatscreen he’d
never turned on. The baby blue walls resonated with the silence, and I shut
the front door and locked it.
More so he couldn’t escape than I could run because, let’s fucking face it,
Mateo couldn’t get me on my worst day, and I was most definitely not having
a bad day.
I’d dropped Illya off at her apartment after she spent all day in the lap of
luxury, and I glanced down at my phone to scan the screen. The time read
two a.m. on the dot, and a scowl twisted my lips because I would rather been
passed out with her curled up against my side. She slept all bunched up— I
knew it was because of that damn cot, but I couldn’t do anything about it.
The hairs on the back of my neck bristled in threat, tearing me from my
reverie, and I acted before my eyes focused in the gloom. Whipping to the
side, I shoved my body, and a terrified squeak echoed in my ears as I held a
body to the wall by the throat. Blinking hard, a ghostly white face became
sharper, and Julie sniffled hard when I released her as gently as I could.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that, Julie— I could’ve hurt you.” In the faint
light from the backyard light that seeped through the curtained sliding doors,
a glint on her face drew my gaze. Frowning, I reached to wiped the spot with
my thumb, and the metallic scent of blood blossomed with her pained
whimper. “What happened?”
“Mateo happened. I was just the first person he saw.” Her voice shook
wildly, and I scowled darkly as she took a rattling sigh. “I’m taking a few
days off— let him know. He won’t try anything with you, Theo.”
“Oh, I’ll let him know, alright.” There was a reason Mateo paid his
employees an obscene amount of money, after all— to Julie and her mopping
floors that weren’t dirty. “Did Mateo lash out at anyone else?”
“He’s been upset all day. He locked himself in his room. That poor girl—
she needs a doctor. She’s not doing okay.” Only grunting at that, I shuffled
back and opened the door for her just to make sure Julie got outside and to
her car alright. “I’ll see you later, Theo.”
Glancing around, my eyes narrowed into tight points, and my stubble
bristled at the utter lack of security. Normally, Mateo had two or three
bodyguards inside his house, more if I wasn’t around. They were nowhere to
be seen, and yet, Julie was lingering around despite getting off at ten p.m.
She must’ve been hiding or something— or waiting for me so she didn’t get
caught by Mateo again.
Only when Julie got in her car and was out of the driveway did I shut and
lock the door again, and I turned on my heel to storm towards the stairs. All
the fury I’d suppressed today came welling up to the surface, and I clenched
and released my fist by my side. My gut rotted as the silence rang in my ears,
broken only by my heavy footfall and hot, harsh pants.
I was getting sick and fucking tired of Mateo, and being around Illya,
well, I’d gotten a taste of the good life. Why would I be okay continuing to
settle with this asshole that couldn’t tie his own fucking shoes?
“Mateo!” Exhaling fire as I headed down the hall, my irritated bellow
echoed through the house, and a faint thump sounded in reply. I stopped in
front of his door only to tense, and I unceremoniously kicked open the barrier
as hard as I could. The wood splintered and flew as the lock busted through
the frame, and the knob sailed across the room right into Mateo’s computer
screen.
Really, I may be his bodyguard, and he may be a criminal— no matter
how ineffectual— but I had some loose morals. Hitting anyone that hadn’t
done shit to deserve it was one of them.
My narrowed vision tinged red as I glanced around, and Mateo stood at
the foot of his king-sized bed trying to size me up. He didn’t work out. He
didn’t go to the range. He didn’t do anything that made him even slightly
capable of dealing with me, bum hand or not. Grinding my teeth, my lip
curled in a snarl, and he blanched despite the strangely blank look on his
pretty-boy face.
“You were supposed to be back hours ago with the roommate.” I didn’t
know what the fuck possessed Mateo to open his mouth, but something in my
brain switched off. Stalking across the room, I clenched my fist tight and sent
it sailing for his nose. My jab was too fast for him to follow. He let out a girly
squeal and crumpled like wax paper with a hard thud, and my toes curled in
my shoes with the urge to kick him.
 “Let’s get one fucking thing clear . . . kid!” Grabbing Mateo by his silky
soft, prized hair, I jerked his head back and bent to glare at him. “I’m not
your fucking errand boy. I’m not obligated to come when you call like some
fucking dog. I don’t have to do fucking shit for you but keep you from dying,
and right now you’re fucking pushing it.”
Snarling nastily, spittle flew into Mateo’s face, and a primitive
satisfaction blazed across my chest when he flinched. He paled, his lips
thinning, and uncertainty flashed in his eyes as they widened in the reflection
of a lamp on his desk.
“We’re not fucking friends. You’re a spoiled bitch, and I’m babysitting
you for a fortune. Don’t ever expect me to do anything else.” Throwing
Mateo on the floor, I straightened to wipe my hand on my jeans with a
disgusted sound. “And . . . if you ever hit Julie again, I’ll cut your hand off.
Trust me, it’s not a pleasant experience.”
Just like a child, I took Mateo’s door privileges away, and I closed my
eyes to take a few deep breaths. I shouldn’t have left Illya. My eyelid
twitched in agitation as the thought flashed behind my eyes, and I strode out
of the room and across the hall into my own. Leaning against the door, I
rubbed my face and neck harshly, and my knuckles ached ever so slightly.
That was the problem with rich kids— they thought everyone was
obligated to serve them in every way because they had money. Mateo paid
me, so what right did I have to deny him? In this moment, I’d bet all the
money in my wallet that he was thinking exactly that, and a sudden wash of
icy cold swept down my torso.
I had no money in my wallet— Illya took it all last night before I drove
her home.
“Jesus Christ.” Recently, I’d made a lot of threats to Mateo, and I was
fucking itching to make good on them. For some reason, he was pissing me
off more than usual, and it was sticking to me worse. Maybe, it was meeting
Illya and seeing how much she struggled that made me so intolerant of
Mateo. “Shit.”
Blowing out a hot breath, I shook my head viciously and rolled my
shoulders in a semi-successful attempt to ease the tension in my body. The
heat in my chest died down, and I walked over to my bed to sit down and
kick off my shoes.
“Hopefully, that bitch won’t scream the second I close my eyes.” Sylvie
must’ve been passed out from the effects of her withdrawal— if she was even
going through it yet. Rubbing my face, I laid back on my bed with my legs
dangling off the end, and the ceiling swirled mesmerizingly. “What a way to
end the day.”
When I closed my eyes, I could see Illya’s face after she got out of the
bath with crystal clarity. She looked so happy, smiling almost ear to ear with
a little pep in her step. I didn’t know a simple bath could make someone so
damn happy. I’d asked if she liked it, and she hit me with one of those
phrases that started off great and just ended in a blazing dumpster fire. She
was so relaxed— but I haven’t taken a bath since before my parents died,
only showers.
What the actual fuck? How much did her life have to suck that she
couldn’t enjoy something so mundane?
Glancing around through unfocused eyes, I realized my bedroom here
was bigger than her entire apartment. Frowning darkly, I held up my mangled
hand and clenched my jaw.
“I really don’t have it bad, do I?” Which was, frankly, dumb as fuck
because I had told Illya that she shouldn’t feel invalidated by people who had
it worse or better than her. “Shit.”
Flopping my arm down, I exhaled a heavy breath as the day’s events
flickered through my mind’s eye like a movie reel being sped up. Illya was
lost, and I was generally fucking stupid and didn’t know how to help her up
to this point. No wonder she went back and forth the way she did.
20

Illya
“Theo.” Leaning on the door frame, Theo smirked at me, and I pursed my
lips thinly as I hid my hand behind the door. “What’s up? I have to go to
work in a little.”
“I came by to see if you were hungry. It worked out pretty well before, so
I thought I’d try again.” Surprise rose my brows, and I tightened my grip on
the can in my hand as he scanned me through narrowed eyes. “You haven’t
dyed your hair yet.”
“Um . . . not yet. I was just about to start.” Rocking back on my heels
when Theo leaned towards me, I held my breath, and suspicion flitted across
his expression. “It’s a bit of a process, so . . . ”
Trailing off, I saw the exact second he decided something was up, and
Theo leaned in uncomfortably close to my neck and sniffed. His narrowed
pupils tightened, and the can in my hand started to cramp my palm even as I
flexed my fingers around it.
“Why are you nervous?” Without letting me take a breath in preparation,
Theo shouldered past me, and I shut the door quickly to lean against it. The
spoon in my can rattled slightly, and my heart jumped into my throat when he
braced both his palms on either side of my head. “What are you hiding?”
The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up as he scanned me again,
slowly, and I clamped my mouth shut. I got the sense Theo didn’t think
something stupid— like I had a guy in my apartment— but he knew
something was up. Reaching down to grab my wrist, he squeezed almost
threateningly, and that action sucked the fight from me.
Blustering out a sigh, I unveiled the can from behind my back, and Theo
tensed as embarrassment engulfed my face in flames. The little can burned
my palm, and I ducked my head as confusion welled up in my chest. Why
was I ashamed? I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“I— is that . . . cat food? Were you eating that?” Disgust roughened
Theo’s tone, and I nodded dully as his muscles played under his shirt out of
the top of my field of vision. He recoiled with a harsh grunt, and shock jolted
through me when he smacked the can out of my hand. The metal and plastic
clattered to the floor loud and abrasive, and I gasped when he wrapped his
good hand in my hair.
Suddenly, his finger was in my mouth, and my stomach flipped when
Theo held down my tongue. Gagging harshly, tears sprung to my eyes, but he
just held down my head until my teeth banged against his single, lonely
knuckle. Slapping at his chest, panic fueled my racing heart, and I arched
sharply when bile sloshed up my throat.
I’d nearly finished that can, and it all came spewing out onto the floor as
weakness shook my knees. Saliva dribbled from my mouth, a dazed sort of
panic gripping my lungs in a vice, and the sounds of my gagging filled my
apartment. Theo ripped his hand from down my throat, and I grappled his t-
shirt as I threw up on his shoes.
“That’s fucking disgusting!” His gruff snarl rippled across my hallowed
face, and I pushed him hard enough to knock myself back. Hitting the floor
hard, my scalp ached from his grip, and I scooted back as my watery eyes
wandered until they met his. His gaze shimmered with conviction and disgust
and all manner of nasty things, and I hiccupped as he ran his good hand over
his head in agitation. “What the fuck, Illya!”
Theo took a step towards me, and I whipped over to crawl towards the
bathroom as harsh pants dried my throat. Whimpering pathetically, I tried to
wrap my head around what just happened as I slammed the door shut and
blocked it with my body. Suddenly, I was kinda glad that my bathroom was
small, and I braced myself against the door with my feet flat against the low
rim of the shower.
“Illya, open the damn door.”
“No!” Covering my face with violently trembling hands, I croaked out
from beneath my palms, and he banged on the door hard. My heart stuttered
with each impact, and my breath hitched at the notion that he could just kick
the barrier in. “S-stop . . . stop . . . why would you do that?”
He really just made me throw up. It didn’t even really hurt despite the
acid gnawing through my throat. My rasp was met with silence, and I
struggled to fill my lungs as my heart gorged on adrenaline. Tears ran in
rivers down my face and between my fingers, and I shivered against the door
as short, hot breaths whistled through chattering teeth.
“The fuck kind of question is that? You were eating cat food! What the
fuck is wrong with you, Illya!” Theo punched the door, but his words hurt
more than the rattling of my spine from the impact. “Why the fuck would you
do that, huh? Open the damn door!”
Why would I do that? Because I was hungry, and I had no food in my
house, and I didn’t want to buy something. I simply didn’t have money this
week, but I did have cat food because they were twenty cents a can. Two or
three, here and there, wasn’t a huge deal, and they held me over when I was
in a pinch.
Plus, I’d been eating them for a long enough time that it tasted good—
not just not bad. When I had nothing else, I could always, always, afford a
can of cat food.
“Go away, Theo. I’m not coming out.” My shaky declaration only earned
the poor door another punch, and I winced when my knee bent awkwardly
from the pressure. There was no lock— I had to use my whole body to keep
the barrier closed, and I sniffled hard from behind my hands. I hadn’t seen
Theo in a few days. I’d assumed that he was dealing with Mateo and Sylvie,
and I just went about my business as usual.
But I was not making good tips by any means right now. I couldn’t do
anything about it, either. Roge didn’t pay us or give out small loans or I-O-
Us. If there was a lull, we had to suck it up and deal.
“Open the God damn door, Illya.” Growling through the slight gap
between the door and the frame, Theo cleared his throat roughly, expectantly.
I didn’t move, didn’t dare take a breath, and he snorted like a bull waiting to
be let out of the stall and wreak havoc. “Open the door, Illya.”
“N-no . . . I’m not coming out.” Gulping harshly, I exhaled a shuddering
breath, and I could hear Theo pacing just beyond the door. “Go away. J-just
go away.”
“Like fuck!” My heart made a bid to burst from my chest when Theo
banged on the door— higher, this time, far above my head. Wincing as he
panted through the crack, I lowered my hands to keep my rib from splitting
open. “Why did you just tell me you were strapped for cash? I would’ve
helped you out, Illya.”
“Why would you?” Bitterness dribbled from my tongue, and an ugly,
black blotch slathered along my ribs. “This is my life, Theo. You can’t just
walk up and bang on it and it’ll start working right.”
“It works for everything else.” Grinding the reply through his teeth, Theo
exhaled a muffled, heavy breath through the crack in the door, and I flopped
my head back to rub my clammy palms on my jeans. “Just . . . open the door.
We’ll get you real— human— food, Illya.”
 Despite my better judgment, the block I’d made of my own body to keep
the barrier closed crumpled, and I pulled my knees to my chin. The tender
skin on my sides pulled and burned, and my eyelids fluttered closed briefly as
I gulped down the saliva pooling under my tongue. Slowly standing up, I
licked my lips as nerves tingled to the bridge of my nose.
Theo leaned on the frame when I popped open the barrier just an inch,
and he glared hotly at me as his jaw worked. Reaching to wipe my mouth, I
frowned into the deafening silence before he forced his mouth open with a
slight, faint pop.
“Do you think I’d hang it over you or something?” I shook my head
mutely, and Theo sighed harshly through flared nostrils to bristle the fine
hairs on my face. “Why would you resort to eating cat food instead of asking
me for help?”
“Cat food is cheap, and, to be honest, I’ve been eating it so long that it’s
pretty good, actually. I don’t do it a lot, but when I’m in a pinch.” He covered
his mouth at my confession, rocking back on his heels to brandish his tense
shoulders. The thick ropes of muscle in his arm rippled with power, and my
heart throbbed at the tortured glint in his eye.
“Why are you worried about money?”
“I have to pay for everything by myself. The third is coming up, and
Sylvie’s not exactly gonna pay her half this month.” The truth was that I’d
been so caught in that drama, and with Theo, that I’d lost track of the days.
I’d missed three days of work, and I was going to be short on rent by a good
two hundred dollars. Thankfully, my electric bill was barely seventy-five
dollars, and I didn’t have anything else, really, but that minimalism didn’t
help my astronomical rent. “My rent is twelve hundred dollars for this place,
and I don’t have it. That’s why I’m going to work early, too.”
“You pay twelve hundred dollars to live in this shitstain? What the fuck,
Illya?” Theo’s anger peaked again, and I pursed my lips thinly as he squeezed
his eyes shut and took a stabilizing breath. Physical pain flickered across his
face, and he cleared his throat roughly before rolling his shoulders hard. “Get
ready for work. I’ll order you something. For fuck’s sake. And use
mouthwash.”
21

Illya
Hovering over Theo’s lap, I jiggled my ass as he sat back on braced arms,
and my back bristled under my clothes from the intensity of his stare. The
light skirt attached to my leotard ticked my upper thighs, and I glanced back
just as he reached his right hand out. A callous, meaty palm slid heavily up
my back, following my spine, and I shivered deliciously from the faint
friction.
“I’m pretty sure this ass is worth more than a pizza, Illya.” He wasn’t
complaining, though, and I hummed softly in acknowledgment. “Have you
thought about moving?”
“Not yet.” Things had calmed down, at least, and Theo grunted at my
reply before I plopped in his lap to grind against the bulge in his jeans. “What
about you and Mateo?”
“He’s avoiding me because I punched him in the face. I’d say it’s going
pretty alright. He won’t leave his room— which is stupid, because I broke the
door when I busted it down.” A tickle of amusement swept through me, and I
smiled a little at the image of a grown-ass man acting like that. He has it bad.
Rich kids were the worst. Of course, there were exceptions to that rule, but on
a whole . . . “I’m supposed to watch him, make sure he doesn’t die, and he
treats me like I’m at his beck and call just because he pays me an obscene
amount of money. Life doesn’t work like that. If Mateo wasn’t shoved into
the corner, he’d probably create the largest dumpster fire ever.”
“Have you ever thought of quitting? Is it really worth it?” Straightening
against my back, Theo inhaled deeply against my shoulder, and goosebumps
pocked down my arm. “All you do is complain about him.”
“Nah, I get paid a lot, as I’ve said.” Chapped lips brushed the base of my
neck, and I gasped as Theo pushed my dyed, pink hair out of the way. His
voice roughened, tone deepening, and his left hand worked under me to
squeeze my ass cheek. “I get my own car, and I get to live in a nice place,
expense-free. The benefits outweigh the fact that, occasionally, I gotta break
his nose.”
Humming a crackled sound as my eyelids fluttered closed, I enjoyed the
hardness and heat against my back, and Theo grazed his teeth against my
neck. Beneath my leotard and the thick bandages covering my torso, my skin
twitched and pulled taut with desire, and I flopped my head back to groan
faintly. His bulge pressed insistently against my core, and he swiped his
fingers up my crotch to circle my clit outside of my stockings.
Theo hadn’t seen me naked yet— hadn’t seen the huge, ugly, purple mark
that was slowly turning a sickly green on my side. My bruise didn’t hurt
anymore, or I’d just gotten used to it, and my breath caught when he pulled
his hand out from under me to creep his fingers over my thigh.
But his palm didn’t glide south, and I tensed when Theo grabbed my
breast and squeezed with a low growl rolling down my spine. Tears instantly
sprang to my eyes before I’d even registered the pain, the fiery tug, and I
sucked in a whistle of a breath through my teeth. My elbow sailed into his
face, but the shock rendered his jolt weak against my hips. His palm felt from
my breast, and I jumped up to pant viciously as pin needles stabbed my front
in waves from top to bottom.
“What the fu— ” Theo’s nasty snarl caught when he locked eyes on my
face, but I couldn’t see him beyond the tears that bubbled up to the brim of
my lids. My pants turned to hyperventilations as fire engulfed my lungs, and
my heart strained as it beat too hard and fast. Grinding my teeth until they
threatened to crack, my mouth dried, and my furious breaths became rasps.
“Illya . . . ”
“Don’t.” Croaking hoarsely, I blinked hard, and tears boiled on my heated
face as pain sent spasms rippling down my chest, which only intensified the
pain. “Don’t . . . don’t . . . ”
Turning around sluggishly, I shuffled over to the wall to brace both my
palms, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t breathe deeply, couldn’t
attempt to get any control over myself— I just had to endure until it died
down. A mangled palm touched my back, and I ducked my head to relieve
some of the burning at my sternum.
“I guess I’ll never touch your titties again.” Even beyond the blood
drumming in my ears, Theo’s grumble sounded gruff and bitter, and I
exhaled a fiery breath through my nose. “Shit, Illya.”
“It’s okay. It-it’s fine. J-just . . . just a m-minute.” I wasn’t mad— I was
in too much pain to be mad. Besides, Theo had every right to want to touch
my chest, and it was really my fault for not saying something first. After all,
it wasn’t his fault for not knowing something I never told him. Scrunching up
my face, I crouched down to force the air from my lungs when it caught
behind the dense lump in my throat.
“Do you need the hospital?”
“No.” Cracking my eyes open, they wandered dazedly to the right, and
Theo’s face dripped in concern. “I . . . I shouldn’t have skipped PT.”
“You can’t use my own joke against me, Illya.” A pained smirk stretched
my lips, and Theo sighed heavily as he rubbed my back gently. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Managing a slightly heavier breath than previously, I reached
to tangle my fist in Theo’s t-shirt, and he covered it with his good hand. “I
didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you asking about it.”
My voice shook, but I didn’t stutter, and I craned my neck in an effort to
dislodge the ball in my throat. Theo’s face masked in graveness, and he
squeezed my hand as I slowly but surely unknotted my muscles. Like I
suspected with his arm, this happened a lot. Even the slightest breeze tipped
me off, which is why I wore the bandages. They covered my scars and
reduced friction, and unexpected touches couldn’t happen anymore.
“I wouldn’t ask about it.” His right hand flexed against my back
knowingly, and I leaned over into his chest to wipe the sweat from my
forehead on his shirt. “At least yours is easier to hide. I get a lot of looks
because of my face and hand.”
“I think it’s handsome.” The truth was that I didn’t notice Theo’s scar all
that much— it wasn’t like it ripped down the front of his face or anything.
The line was just a jagged, dark line. “The pizza’s not even here yet.”
A particularly violent spasm ripped up my spine, and I hissed even as
Theo wrapped his arm around my back firmly. Wincing as pain flared across
my chest, I tightened my grip in his shirt, and the neck seam creaked in
protest overly loud in my ears.
“You got me real good, by the way.” My brows furrowed in confusion,
and I glanced up as Theo rubbed his jaw and cheek with his bad hand. “Who
taught you to elbow someone in the face like that? You got me right in the
cheekbone.”
“Ooh, my mom did.” Appreciation swirled in his eyes, and I took a
rattling breath as I leaned my head against his chest. My mind puttered along
leisurely, and Theo sat back on the floor to gingerly wrap his legs around me.
“When I was eight, she taught me to defend myself. She was definitely one of
those people that saw the glass half empty.”
“My mom is the kind of woman that’d buy takeout and pass it off as her
own so she can impress people at Thanksgiving.” His hand swept up into my
hair as he spoke, and Theo kneaded my scalp despite the dye that’d rub off on
his skin. “When I decided to go into the military, she threw a party. When I
got deployed for the first time, she wasn’t nearly as excited.”
“Was it scary?” Sniffing hard, I closed my eyes and wiped my face on his
shirt as he chuckled a little cynically.
“I almost shit myself when they announced we were landing. Those
transport planes aren’t the most smooth things to ride through the sky at two
hundred miles per hour. I didn’t used to be like this when I was nineteen and
twenty years old. I was different back then. I always thought that I’d end up
like one of those guys in the USAA commercials with a small business and a
perfect family and all that shit.” My gaze flickered up at the sourness that
dragged down Theo’s lips, and he pressed his chin against my crown with a
faint grunt. “I mean, there’s a reason why it’s ‘young and stupid’.”
“When I was little, I wanted to be a cop.” My mom had been a cop, and
the incident that led to her and my father’s deaths had been investigated into
the ground and ten feet more. Everyone suspected foul play, but it’d simply
been faulty wiring in the house they rented. “After they died, my aunt took
me in and sued the property manager for everything she owned, and when
she spent it all, she kicked me out. I went into foster care for about seven
hours, which was just sitting at the police station getting sad looks by
everyone. I ran away.”
“That’s some shit, Illya.” I didn’t really reply, content to just soak up
Theo’s warmth until a light knock sounded at the door.
22

Theo
“We’re going out.” Under my headphones, I barely made out Mateo’s
garbled grumbled, and I glanced up from my phone as he stood up. He
looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and stress lines around his
mouth, and my lip twitched faintly. Working my headset off one ear, Sylvie’s
bloodcurdling shrieking echoed instead of sweet, sweet silence, and I leaned
back to cross my knees.
“If you leave this house, Mateo, I’ll kill her.” My matter-of-fact
declaration made Mateo pause, and he scowled darkly at me. Sylvie had been
screaming non-stop for, like, seven hours, now, but I had noise-cancelling
headphones. A wondrous investment. “Step one foot outside, and I’ll blow her
brains out. You wanted this, didn’t you? So deal with it.”
Truth be told, I didn’t want to kill Sylvie simply because Mateo was a
dumb piece of shit. I was sure there were other reasons she deserved all this
crap, but I didn’t know about any of that. Illya refused to talk about Sylvie,
and I knew the pain and betrayal was still very fresh. Certainly, she didn’t do
anything to warrant dying— otherwise, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Plus, I
would have to tell Illya, and that could go a few different ways. There was a
lot of bitterness.
And why wouldn’t it be? They’d been through a lot together, and Sylvie
had ruined it for an insanely stupid reason.
“So you’re allowed to leave, and I’m not?” Mateo sounded so infantile in
that moment that I snorted a laugh, and his slightly swollen nostrils flared in
anger. Standing up leisurely, I blocked out Sylvie’s screaming as I loomed
over him, but I knew he couldn’t do the same. Either she’d drive him nuts, or
he’d storm out, not thinking I’d do anything about it.
“You want her around, Mateo. This is only the beginning, too. Either get
rid of her, or suck it up.” Jabbing him in the chest to prove my point, I glared
at him from under furrowed brows. “You don’t have the option to run away.
Imagine what’ll happen if that baby is born addicted to heroin? Imagine how
much it’ll scream, and no one will take care of it but you. Do you want me to
get you one of those practice dolls?”
 I couldn’t help adding the jibe, and Mateo tensed as fire flickered in his
eyes. The blatant, candid truth was that parenthood wasn’t understood from
the outside. He seriously thought Sylvie would get better, would be the
perfect mom, and he’d have the perfect family. But he was wrong.
“I’m going out.” Arching a brow quizzically at that, I rocked back on my
heels and nodded flippantly. If Mateo left, I’d keep my word, and then I’d go
hang out with Illya because, unfortunately, her tips hadn’t picked up since
Wednesday. Friday and Saturday were her best days, but I wasn’t sure that
she was doing too well on that front.
Mateo hadn’t moved from his spot, though, and I rolled my eyes as
disgust soured my tongue. Sucking my teeth, I dropped back down into the
recliner, but even then, he still seemed small and meek. He’d never suffered
any way he didn’t create, and he just stood there, shooting daggers at me with
his eyes.
“Sit down and shut up, Mateo. You’re not gonna do shit, and you know
it.” Pulling my headphones over my head, I turned my attention back to my
phone. The stupid matching game kept me occupied this long, there was no
reason it shouldn’t continue. As soon as I looked at the screen, though, my
mind started to wander, and Mateo sat on the sofa to hold his head in his
hands between his knees.
I’d be laughing my ass off if this wasn’t damn inconvenient.
There were so many other places I’d rather be on a Friday night, like
Illya’s club, watching her shake her ass. At the very least, she wouldn’t be
able to deny any tips I gave her. I still couldn’t get that notion out of my
head. She really ate cat food from a can rather than buy a carrot or something.
Obviously, Illya had done it for a long time and gotten used to it, but . . .
A shiver lodged between my shoulders at the idea of being so damn
desperate that Illya ate cat food like it was a bag of chips. She only nibbled at
the pizza I’d ordered and said something about saving it, but I refused to
bring her to work until she ate at least two slices. That kind of shit, I couldn’t
stand it.
Anything I tried to do for her usually backfired, though. I had to be
careful about how I brought up things so she didn’t shoot me down because
of cost.
Anything that goes into that can doesn’t come out. Those were her exact
words when she pulled out this huge coffee can from under her cot. The top
barely fit on because of all the neatly folded bills, but she only put in, never
taking out. The role she’d demanded from me had been in there, too, so I
couldn’t feel bad about it.
Illya would be the death of me. Of that, I had no doubt at all.
“The Hell is with all the screaming?” The hairs on the back of my neck
stood up at the muffled tone, and I tore my gaze away from my phone.
Carlyle stood in the entryway, a grumpy, exaggerated expression on his face,
and I gestured wordlessly to Mateo as he popped up from the sofa. Carlyle
gazed at me steadily, but I kept my expression blank as I turned back to my
phone. “You know, I could’ve killed you before you even noticed me, Theo.”
“Go ahead. I fucking want to kill me right now, too.” Out of the corner of
my eye, he smirked maliciously, if not grimly, at my grumble. “God damn.”
“What are you doing here, Carlyle? Why didn’t you t— ”
“Why would I warn you and give you time to cover up whatever fuck up
you managed this time, Mateo.” Carlyle’s harsh snap whipped over my head,
and Mateo tensed as his big brother slammed the door shut. The screaming
continued, almost in the background of my mind, like it was on the television
or something. “I told you to get rid of that thing, and here you are—
disobeying me yet again.”
“C— ” His hand shot up to silence his brother, and Carlyle shot him a
frosty glare as I turned off my phone display to watch. Mateo and Carlyle
were full-blood brothers, but they obviously took after one parent more than
the other. Mateo was tall and lanky, and Carlyle was built like me— broad,
muscular, but a little shorter and stocky. Definitely not a guy I wanted to get
trapped in an alley with, for sure.
“Theo.” Clenching my jaw as he turned to me, I didn’t dare blink as
Carlyle scanned me through pupils narrowed into slits. “Go shut that bitch up
so I can have a serious conversation with my kid brother. Don’t kill it— I
agree with you on that. He wanted this, he’s going to suffer the
consequences.”
Ah, he tapped into the audio. Of fucking course Carlyle tapped into the
surveillance system before coming in here. Hoisting myself up, I left my
phone and headphones on the seat to head upstairs. The closer I got to
Sylvie’s room, the louder her gut-wrenching cries became. Popping open the
door, I ground my teeth as the stench of shit, piss and vomit slammed into
me.
I don’t know what the fuck Mateo was thinking, but no one was taking
care of this girl. Honestly, it was surprising that she hadn’t suffocating on her
own puke yet.
Tied to the bed, Sylvie was drenched in sweat, and her own shit covered
her thighs and hips from her struggling. For some reason, she was naked, and
vomit pooled in the hollow of her neck and crusted her short hair to her
cheeks. My fingers tingled in disgust at the idea of touching her, and my
stomach roiled as I searched the room for something. My gaze settled on a
wide, square hairbrush, and my cheek twitched in foreboding. I better not get
thrown up on. At least the first time was voluntary.
23

Illya
“Illya, can you come here a sec’?” Glancing over at Marcella, I nodded
before twisting to smile at the guy sliding dollars bills into the neckline of my
leotard. I excused myself, and he was too drunk to stop me from getting up as
Marcella hovered by a small, round table. “You have a request from VIP
four. Remember that guy that knocked me over? It’s him and his bodyguard
again, and some other guy I don’t recognize. He’s pretty hot, though.”
“Ohhh, okay. Let’s go.” But Marcella grabbed my arm and shook her
head, and my brows furrowed as my gut clenched in foreboding. “Don’t tell
me I’m going in there alone. What did Roge say? He knows, right?”
“Of course he knows. He said he knows this stranger guy personally, and
to not worry. But I’ll be in room three, okay. It’s empty right now. If you
need help, just bang on the wall, okay, Illya.” She shot me a firm nod, and I
glanced up wearily at the second-floor balconies that circled the entire second
floor. Blacked out windows shimmered against the strobe lights, and the
knots in my abdomen intensified. Shaking my head a little, I straightened my
shoulders and licked my lips before starting for the stairs.
“At least, I’ll probably get some good tips today, maybe.” This week had
just been so difficult for some reason, though, I couldn’t put my finger on
why things had lulled so badly. Friday was usually booming, but the club was
barely half-full as I glanced around. Of course, our regulars showed up, but
that wasn’t a good thing because they were so comfortable that they tipped
horribly.
Looking over my shoulder, I watched the guy I’d just been with
drunkenly talk to his friends as he replaced me with some no-name prowler.
Reaching back to pull out the crumpled bill from my leotard, I paused at the
bottom of the stairs to scowl. Two one-dollar bills was all I got after listening
to him for almost seven minutes complain about how his wife wouldn’t put
out now that she was pregnant.
“Jesus, I need a better job.” I should invest in a laptop and learn some
useful things myself. Maybe, I’d get lucky and find some free, online classes.
Taking the stairs carefully in my four-inch heels, I rolled my lips as I tried to
wipe the sourness from my expression.
Knocking on the door that led to room four, I waited for someone to open
the door, and a little bubble of excitement floated up in my chest. Mateo, I
wasn’t so keen on seeing again, but Theo and I seemed to have a real moment
the other day. When the door swung open, I was hit with a sense of deja vu,
and a bright smile automatically lifted the corners of my lips.
But it wasn’t Theo at the door, and I forced down the surprise that jolted
my chest. The bulky guy that took over the whole entryway smiled warmly at
me, leaning with his arm high, and I met his gaze firmly. He wasn’t taller
than me in my heels, but the malicious glint in his eye was scary casual and
sent shivers lodged between my shoulder blades.
“Aren’t you just the cutest.” The deep, dark purr rose goosebumps down
my arms, and flames licked my cheeks when he held out a hand for me.
“Come in.”
“What a gentleman.” His palm was warm and soft against my fingertips,
and his smirk widened to reveal shallow dimples. The brightness in his eye
flared, and I ignored the sudden urge to turn around and run away. I couldn’t
pinpoint what this huge rift in his presence was, but I sure as shit felt it wrap
around me to bristle the bridge of my nose.
“I understand that my little brother liked you the last time they were here.
What’s your name?” My gaze flickered to Mateo to find him pouting on the
sofa, and I arched a brow quizzically. I didn’t dare look at Theo, but his
glaring burned holes into the side of my face. Only, it wasn’t his usual stare
— it was a lot more dangerous— and the tension in the room could suffocate
me if I tilted my head too far back.
“Illya. I’m glad I made a good impression.” Turning back to the stranger
in the room, I smiled, and he released my hand to gesture to the sofa. “You
know my name. Can I ask yours?”
“No wonder Theo likes you so much.” The fine hairs on the back of my
neck stood up at the danger that laced his tone, and my eyes widened as I
paused. Carlyle. Straightening my half-bent stature, I cocked my head as I
scanned him. He wasn’t at all what I thought of, but that was not a good
thing. “So, you know a bit about me, too.”
“What do you want? It’s a slow week, and I don’t have time to chat about
Mateo being grounded for throwing a girl over the sofa.” My declaration
earned me a hearty laugh, and my gut rot reached just under my skin to
spread up my torso. Even Carlyle’s genuinely amused chuckling seemed split
between nauseating threat and this easygoing casualty, and I tensed when he
clapped a hand on my shoulder. His laugh stopped abruptly, and he pushed
me back ever so gently to force me to sit on the sofa before plopping down
next to me.
Leaning back as I struggled to keep a straight face, Carlyle flung his arm
over the back of the curved sofa, crossed his knees, and heaved a dramatic
sigh.
“You and I have a lot to talk about.” My eyes widened at his near-perfect
German, and Carlyle’s light brown eyes seemed to rip into my soul as he
rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Just like you know about me, Illya, I know all
about you.”
Clenching my jaw hard, my eyelid twitched in agitation, and the silence
stretched as I carefully debated what to say. I had no fucking clue what was
going on. Why was Carlyle here? Was Sylvie okay? If Carlyle knew I spoke
German, he knew that I was Sylvie’s roommate until recently. Shit.
I held out my hand palm up and wiggled my fingers, and Carlyle
nonchalantly reached into his expensive, silk suit jacket to pull out a thin,
plain, white envelope. He tossed it at me with a flick of his wrist, but I was
quick, and his eyes narrowed on me with appreciation when I caught it.
“Let’s get right to business, then.” Switching one knee over the other,
Carlyle drummed his fingers on the hard support of the sofa, and I nodded
mutely. “Someone is lying to me. I want you to translate for me so I can
figure out who it is.”
“You have your own translators. You came here to warn Theo that you
knew about me, and that he shouldn’t fuck up.” I was really, really getting
tired of being caught in the middle of drama I wasn’t supposed to be involved
with, and I knew it shone in my voice. Standing up, I smoothed my little, thin
skirt at my thighs and nodded firmly at Carlyle. “Bye.”
“Before you storm out, hear what I’m proposing. It’s not like you’ve got
anything worthwhile to hang on to.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want anything to do with it.” I didn’t get anything
else out before Carlyle was up so quickly, so silently, that I didn’t even notice
until he pressed a finger to my lips. He stood dangerously close, his eyes
glistening with just as much admiration as annoyance, and my breath caught
when he pinched my chin.
“That shit might work on others, but not me. Sit down.” He jerked my
head back, and I stumbled a little in my heels as I fell back onto the sofa.
Theo’s glare rose that hairs on my body, but I still refused to look at him as
my eyes locked on Carlyle’s. “I set this up as an experiment to see if my little
brother was capable of doing anything of substance. I hoped he would
succeed— even a little, tiny bit. However, he failed miserably, and I’m tired
of wasting money on him.”
Carlyle shot his brother the nastiest, most venomous sneer possible, and
he dropped onto the sofa to sigh and propped his elbows on his knees.
Rubbing his palms together, he cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders, as
if he had to physically calm himself down. Anxiety flooded my veins, and my
mind whirred at a mile a minute, not capable of figuring out where this was
going.
“It’s true that I came here to passive-aggressively let Theo know he has a
line to tow. I’m not stupid— I did my research on you, Illya. I don’t come
into situations with half-cocked knowledge. I know your situation, and I
know that Theo is at the end of his rope with Mateo. So, I figured if I was
going to transfer him to my service, I might as well hire you.” Surprise lifted
my brows and forced a harsh bark of laughter from my throat, and discomfort
seared my veins as I shook my head viciously.
“Yeah . . . no. There’s no way I’d ever, ever move for a guy. That’s not
happening. Even if I were going to consider it for the job— which you
haven’t discussed about . . . ” Trailing off, I frowned deeply at the
bemusement that flickered on Carlyle’s face. “If you’re offering me a job,
offer me a job. Don’t think I’d pack up what little life I have and tromp
around after Theo just because I blew him once.”
“As I said, I want you as a translator, Illya. It’s not that I don’t trust my
own, but it’s never a terrible thing to have a second opinion. How many
languages do you speak?” My eyelid twitched in irritation. Carlyle knew the
answer to that question, but he wanted me to say it anyway.
“Six.” He shot me a sharp, expectant look, and I crossed my arms over
my chest lightly with a huff. “English, Spanish, German, Italian, Russian, and
French.”
“Yet you’re working here. Let’s just say I don’t appreciate wasted talent.
Keep shaking your ass for dollar bills if you want and wallow in poverty, or
make something of yourself. I’ll even sweeten the deal, because I’m at least
partly at fault for not keeping my brother on a shorter leash.” Leaning back,
Carlyle stared at me levelly, and a strange sense of foreboding flooded my
veins. Whatever he was going to propose was going to be hard to turn down,
and that sucked . . . a lot. “I’ll give you your own apartment to help keep you
apart from the drama. Consider it a promotional gift if you take the job.”
24

Theo
“A promotional gift . . . right.” Skepticism thickened Illya’s tone, and she
cocked her head as I tried and failed to contain the intense desire that
rampaged through my body. Apparently, this whole uncertainty thing she had
going on only pertained to me, and even Carlyle couldn’t break that with a
glance like usual. Fuck . . . watching her keep her cool without the slightest
sign of struggle, staring Carlyle down like he was just another scumbag in a
club . . .
“I’ll let you pay your own bills, if it makes you feel more comfortable.
Rent excluded, of course.” It occurred to me that Carlyle knew something
about Illya that made him go so far, but I didn’t bother with that for now. He
was going to ship me off to New York with him, and that was great! Not.
“So, what do you say, Illya?”
Her name rolled off his tongue like butterscotch— thick and sticky and
not very appealing at all once melted. Scanning her as she cocked her head, I
cupped my mouth to hide my scowl as she frowned under furrowed, slender
brows.
“I’ll think about it.” Carlyle nodded, as if he expected that reply, and
stood up to huff in satisfaction.
“Good. Sleep it over, and I’ll stop by tomorrow for my answer. Oh, and I
forgot to mention . . . ” Illya stood up, folding up her envelope with practiced
ease, and I frowned darkly into the room. There was always something more
with Carlyle, but he seemed genuinely miffed before he opened his mouth to
her quizzical glance. “I’m leaving, but Mateo is staying here while I deal with
his . . . mistake. Keep him company. I’m sure he knows where the ATM is.”
“Are you gonna kill her?” Posing the question instantly, Illya did a good
job muting her expressions, but she knew she couldn’t hide them all or
Carlyle would figure out why easily. Impressive.
“Well, of course not. That thing is probably wishing for it after being
strapped to a bed rotting in its own shit for a week, though.” Frowning
darkly, I tore my eyes off Illya as shame sloshed up my throat only to be
beaten down by rationale. Knocking Sylvie out had been a blessing. All I did
was knock her in the temple with the end of the brush, and there was some
relief. Carlyle walked out of the VIP room, gently shutting the door behind
him, and I lifted my gaze as Illya practically threw herself back onto the sofa.
Her hands shook as she covered her face, and I shuffled over to sit next to her
in the growing silence.
“What the Hell is going on?” Groaning loudly, Illya flopped to sprawl
over my lap, and I clenched my gut as I struggled to force down my hard-on.
Rolling onto her hands and knees, she pouted at me as my hands itched
painfully to shove her face down. “You couldn’t have warned me?”
“I don’t have your number, remember.” Her bottom lip stuck out thicker,
and I bit back a groan as I reached to caress it with my right thumb. “That
was so sexy. I didn’t know you had some bite to your bark, Illya.”
“What does he really want?” The question had no answer, and Illya
sighed heavily before sitting back on her heels to pull the envelope out of her
sleeve. Before ripping open the side, she glanced at me, and I buried my two
fingers in her hair to scratch her scalp. “Don’t worry about what I said, okay,
Theo?”
“Said what? I was too busy trying not to storm over and fuck your brains
out to listen to what you were saying.” Illya smacked my arm playfully, a soft
smile stretching her lips, and my own twitched up as I leaned back against the
sofa to cross my knees. “Anyway, how’d you know Carlyle would pay you
just to listen to what he had to say?”
“Because a guy like that knows a lot of unsavory shit. I work here, so
while I’m here, any interaction that he wants in his favor needs to be paid for.
That’s probably why he chose now— it’s super slow, even for Friday, and
it’d better his chances.” Unfolding the envelope to rip open the side carefully,
Illya pulled out a check and groaned softly. “I don’t have a bank account. I’m
gonna have to open one, which means getting an ID.”
“You can just get a Rush Card or something, though, right?” She only
hummed at my suggestion, and I glanced over her orange hair at Mateo as he
glared at his feet. “You just don’t wanna have a card on you, huh?”
“Yeah. I don’t really have a choice, though.” Noticing my gaze, Illya
twisted to Mateo, but she didn’t linger too long before shaking her head.
“What’s Carlyle going to do to Sylvie?”
“Honestly, I don’t think he’ll do anything to her.” Dark curiosity stained
Illya’s pretty face, and I flopped my head back as I thought on that for a
second. Carlyle was all about teaching his little brother not to be a little shit,
so he hadn’t been lying— he wasn’t going to kill Sylvie. “I have a feeling
that whatever happens will be worse.”
“I feel bad for her, but . . . ” I only shrugged at that. Sylvie was a bit of a
stale topic, now. Shifting my weight to ease the pressure on my cock, I spread
my legs before Illya crawled to straddle my thighs. My abdomen tightened,
and I gingerly set my hands on her hips as she ground her ass against my
bulge.
The honest to God truth . . . I couldn’t pinpoint why I didn’t bend her
over. Gliding up her smooth back, my palms tingled wildly, and a numbness
attacked my right hand. Illya was so damn sexy, but I just couldn’t make that
jump. I wanted things to be even semi-okay, and she was neck-deep in misery
at the moment. A small, condescending smirk tilted my lips as her words
floated up in my head.
Was screwing her really taking advantage of her, or was not screwing her
really the crime here?
Leaning against my chest, Illya blew a puff of hot air down my neck, and
I closed my eyes to savor her heat. The questions fell away to simple
enjoyment that this sexy-as-sin woman was on my lap, and she nuzzled my
stubble with her cheek. Warmth suffused my body, and I reached to cup her
face as the tenderness of the moment gripped my heart in a vice.
“I’m probably going to take this job.” Whispering in my ear, Illya’s voice
thickened with distaste, but I heard the thread of resignation regardless. “He’s
probably already got everything set up— otherwise, he wouldn’t have offered
me that ‘sweet deal.’”
“Hopefully, you’ll be close by so I can sneak into your place and f— ” A
soft, choked sob cut me off, and I tensed as my gaze whipped to Mateo. He
was fucking crying hot, angry tears that streamed down the muscles straining
in his neck, and Illya paused her movements. Mateo knew his brother better
than me— probably had a much better idea of what was going to happen to
Sylvie— but it was very apparent that whatever it was . . .
It’d be humiliating beyond belief for Mateo. He was about to learn the
hard way that he can’t escape the consequences, or that things rarely happen
how he expected.
“Anyway . . . ” Ignoring him, I turned back to Illya, and her brows
twitched up expectantly as I gripped her hips. “When we get settled in, I’ll
take you on a date.”
“A date?” Her squeak gyrated my eardrums even as I nodded firmly, and
her cheeks turned rosy from the fireworks sparkling behind her contacts. “I
never thought you’d ask me on a date, Theo.”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m not that much of an incel.” She giggled a little,
resuming her swishing and swaying, and I pushed down on her hips to sigh
roughly. “Take it as progress that I even told you about it this time.”
“You should tell me about it so I can say ‘yes’ and you can feel good
about yourself.” Hot palms braced on my knees, and Illya arched her back to
pop her ass against my abdomen as she spoke. Sucking in a sharp breath at
the friction, I squeezed her ass cheeks through her leotard as a reply balanced
on the tip of my tongue.
“Fuck . . . I’m gonna wreck this pussy the first chance I get.” Growling
through clenched teeth, I dropped Illya’s ass into my lap to grip her
shoulders, and my cock ached fiercely. Her moan floated into my ears, and I
pulled back on her body until I could feel her beyond the thick fabric of my
jeans.
Powerful muscles rippled under her leotard, and I got sucked into my own
mind as Illya worked her magic.
25

Illya
“Home sweet home.” Pushing open the door with a flourish, Carlyle sounded
so excited that it banged around inside my head, and I automatically closed
my eyes. His low, sultry chuckle caressed me even as the hairs on the back of
my neck stood up, and I scrunched up my face. Softly putting his palm on my
crown, he rubbed like I was a dog needing comfort, and the silence stretched
into discomfort. “It’s okay to open your eyes, Illya. Relax. I’ve spent the past
week trying to get you to not be so nervous about it.”
“You locked Mateo in his house, but you don’t want me being so
nervous.” My grumble sent a frigid shiver to lodge between my shoulder
blades, and I cracked open one eye. Carlyle owned this whole multifunctional
building. I’d guessed it was his base, but he never said so specifically.
Rolling my lips between my teeth as he shrugged out of the corner of my eye,
I huffed myself gingerly.
The apartment was so nice, but not lavish, and I stood in the entryway
trying to believe my eyes. A hallway with a closet protected the view into the
flat, but that wasn’t what impressed me. No— it was that the paint wasn’t
peeling! The hardwood floors weren’t popping up! The stench of mold
wasn’t wafting in my face, and there weren’t black spots seeping through the
ceiling.
I hadn’t even stepped into the place yet, but just the hallway was miles
better than anywhere I’d ever lived. Forcing my knee to bend, anxiety and
excitement mingled in a volatile cocktail in my bloodstream, and
goosebumps swept up my leg under my jeans. This past week had been
insane— I’d quit my job on Sunday, did absolutely nothing until Thursday,
and gotten on a plane on Friday morning to zip across the country.
But I’d seen more of Carlyle than of Theo, and I fought a frown as I
stepped over the threshold. This man was the exact opposite of his little
brother, and I couldn’t get over the inherent unease I had from first sight.
Everything he did to try to calm my nerves only intensified them. It all
seemed so fake and two-faced. I half-expected Carlyle to throw it all back at
me somehow, even though he didn’t seem like the kind to do that.
 That kind of tactic was brash and abrasive, and Carlyle was the guy that’d
do something horrible with tact and grace.
“So, what do you think?” Blinking hard, the question sucked me back
into reality, and I glanced around at the pristine, completely unlived in living
room through dazed eyes. The carpet had never been walked on, the sofa had
never been sat on, and the coasters on the coffee table had never held a glass.
Hoovering up a huge, stabilizing breath, I only nodded dumbly, and Carlyle
practically beamed at my overwhelmed expression.
“It’s nice.” Clearing my throat roughly, I wondered how I’d gotten to this
point, but my brain refused to work. Pressing his palm against my back,
Carlyle led me into the kitchen off the living room, and I leaned on the low
wall that served as a breakfast nook. Things had gone from about seventeen
to a hundred so fast, and exhausted hallowed my cheeks and dragged down
my eyelids.
“All the food gets delivered. There’s an app that you install on your
phone to order and set up a time. I suggest doing it at night.” That got my
attention focused, and I arched a brow quizzically as Carlyle grabbed a chair,
whipped it around, and straddled the back. “Everything gets checked coming
in. Unlike my idiot brother, I’ve had a good number of attempts on my life,
and food is the cowards golden chariot.”
“Oh.” He so casually mentioned almost being assassinated that it
could’ve been comical, and I leaned on the wall to glance around the kitchen.
Every cup and plate was perfectly aligned, again, never used. Everything in
this apartment was brand new, and a ball of discomfort clogged my throat.
“Are you gonna tell me what you really want me for?”
“Come with me.” The question had burned into my very soul these past
few days, and Carlyle stood up to gesture me to follow him. Taking the short
hallway alongside the kitchen, I rubbed my palms together as nerves tingled
in my fingers. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Carlyle had really
taken interest in me, and I stiffened when he whipped around. His light eyes
sparkled as he held up a hand, and my mouth dried in anticipation. “I wasn’t
necessarily lying when I said I wanted you for your linguistic skills. I just
don’t think wasting away behind a desk is going to do me much good.”
“So . . . ” Waving my own hand impatiently at such a vague answer, I
beat down my apprehension before Carlyle grabbed the doorknob directly to
my right. He pushed open the barrier, flicking on the light to reveal a huge
closet.
 A closet with a vanity bristling with lightbulbs and a huge assortment of
makeup and neatly rowed dyes of the same brand I usually used. A closet
with no walls, just racks upon racks of clothes of any kind, and a million pairs
of shoes. A closet with a fucking sound system in it that was easily twice the
size of my apartment back in California.
“What the fuck?” Carlyle chuffed softly at my slur, and I tore my eyes off
the incredible display to frown deeply. “What the fuck is all this? I don’t need
this.”
“Yes, you do. I had someone come in and knock down a wall for this,
combining two guest rooms into one. This . . . ” Gesturing with a sweep of
his arm, Carlyle drew my attention back to the room, and I stepped through
the doorway with goosebumps blanketing my arms. “Is your job, Illya. I told
you when we met, I know all about you. You’re a master of disguise. From
now on, you’re going to do what you’re best at, and that, my dear, is not
shaking ass for dollar bills . . . unless the situation calls for it.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Whirling around, irritation bogged my chest, and my
ruined skin tightened painfully as I practically stabbed Carlyle in the sternum.
Without heels, he was a good five inches taller than me, but still shorter than
Theo, and I glared venomously as my blood simmered in my veins. “I know
my mom was an undercover cop and going to the FBI for it, but I’m . . . not .
. . like . . . that.”
Carlyle grabbed the base of my skull, and I sucked in a sharp breath as he
pulled my face into his chest. Even as I struggled and pushed, his grip didn’t
slack, and his hard muscles threatened to bruise my forehead and nose. My
heart rate jacked up, and tension zinged through me when he tangled his hand
in my hair to yank my head back.
“Don’t do that ever again.” My heart nearly stopped at the low,
threatening growl that reverberated to my core, and my breath caught when
Carlyle leaned in close to my face. The bridge of my nose prickled wildly,
and the fine hairs on my face stood up when he brushed my cheek with his
lips. “This has nothing to do with your dead parents. I’ve had my eye on you
for a while, Illya. I just got lucky you decided that you liked Theo’s dick
more than the others, and that my bitch brother got your roommate pregnant.”
Pushing me against the wall, Carlyle grabbed my leg and hoisted my knee
under his elbow, and panic bled into my mind. I was wearing jeans, and he
was still careful of my chest in his cold, calculated fury, but the threat of him
was enough. His hazel eyes flashed as a strangled whimper escaped me, and
he untangled his fingers in my hair to grab my chin.
“I don’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable or scared, Illya, but
if you don’t do your job, I have no use for you. Two months. I’ll give you
two months to get yourself in order, and then you start. Since I know you
won’t stay here for nothing, and you don’t trust me, you can sit behind a desk
and translate for me starting Wednesday. Enjoy your weekend.” Releasing
my leg, Carlyle caressed my face even as his gaze sharpened into a knife’s
edge, thin enough to split a hair. “I’ll let you know if I can’t wait that long.”
Ever so gently, he kissed me on the mouth, and shock blew my pupils as
Carlyle reached between us to touch me. Goosebumps washed every inch of
my body, but the fire that engulfed me as his fingers slid up my crotch
outside my jeans burned too hot. His lips were dry on mine, and he nibbled
my bottom lip before pulling back with a slight, knowing smirk.
“See ya later.” Rubbing my lip with his thumb, Carlyle left me with that
smirk as he retreated towards the kitchen. Once he was out of my line of
sight, I couldn’t look for him, and I stared blankly at the place he’d just been.
Deep in the apartment, I only faintly heard the front door closing, and my
lungs emptied a sputtering sigh.
26

Illya
“Aunt Carol, I’m going out. Can I have my card?” My aunt looked up
from that mail she was sorting and frowned, taking off her glasses to
squint at me. “I told you, remember? I have plans with my friends
tonight.”
“You know, spending it little by little may not seem like much at
the time, Illya, but you’ll run out faster than you think.” Frowning
myself at that, my brows furrowed as my aunt patted the table, and I
shuffled over to sit stiffly. Suspicion clung to my ribs like a sticky tar
— as it did every time she tried to dissuade me from using my own
money— and I leaned back to watch her closely. My dad’s sister
didn’t appear anything like him, but it still hurt to look at her because
. . . she was slimy. “How’s your job search going?”
“I have to leave soon, so give me my card.” This time, I wasn’t so
polite, and I held out my palm as a brief, miffed panic flashed in my
aunt’s eyes. “It’s my money. I don’t need you to approve what I do
with it. I’m seventeen now, and I let you hold the card to make you
feel better, Aunt Carol, but you’re not going to dictate when and what
I can do with it.”
“Fine. Fine. I just wanted to know so you can replace what you’re
spending, Illya. Good financial habits are important.” She dug
around in her purse, handing me my card in its paper sheath, but she
didn’t let it go immediately. Her french nails clung to the encased
plastic, and I met her gaze as it sharpened sternly. “Make sure you’re
back by midnight. You have Saturday school tomorrow at one p.m.”
“I know.” My aunt released my card with a slight nod, and I stood
up only to wince at the pull of my scars. Licking my lips heavily, I
stuffed the object in my front pocket, and she turned back to her mail
to pick up a bill. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Alright, and don’t forget to put gas in the car.” I hummed at
that, and I shuffled out of the kitchen to pull my phone out of my back
pocket on my way through the living room. My aunt had a PIN on my
card that she thought I didn’t know, but . . .
Oh, boy, did I know.
“Little by little, yeah, right. You’re stealing it all.” Grumbling to
myself once I’d shut the front door behind me, I dialed the number to
check my balance. Twirling my keys around my finger, I sat in the
little two-door I’d bought and left my leg hanging out the open door.
Navigating my way through the automated menu, I tapped in the PIN
with my thumb and braced myself.
My aunt had used almost all of the eighty thousand dollars that
she’d gotten from suing over my parents deaths, money that was
supposed to be mine, to be saved until I was eighteen. At least, eighty
thousand was the number she gave me, but even that was a lie.
Now, I had less than a thousand dollars in the account, and I’d
had over four thousand dollars when I’d checked two weeks ago.
“It’s not even like she’s struggling. They both have great jobs.”
My aunt and uncle, collectively, made upwards of six figures a year,
and bitterness soured my tongue. Checking the time as I ended the
call, I set my phone in the cupholder and stuck the key in the ignition.
“She’s going to be really pissed when I sue her.”
I’d already had a lawyer. I had already gone to the bank and
gotten statements. I’d gone to the contractor my aunt hired to remodel
the house and gotten paperwork that she’d used my money to pay for
it. I just needed to put the paperwork in.
Why was this happening to me? Carol was my dad’s sister, my
aunt, and she still couldn’t get over her greedy, selfish ways.
Scowling at the windshield, I glanced at the rearview and started to
back out of the driveway. Her brother was dead, but all she cared
about was the money from the wrongful death suit.
“She doesn’t know about my inheritance, at least.” That, at the
time, I’d gotten mostly in cash and stashed it because I suspected
Aunt Carol would do something like this. No one else in the family
would take me after my parents died, so I got stuck with her. Even
now, three years after their deaths, I could hear my parents with
crystal clarity complaining about my aunt being a leech. I didn’t
spend a lot of time with my cousins because my parents were always
the ones paying, and they didn’t make nearly the same amount of
money let alone more.
“Illya?” Blinking at the touch on my arm, I tore my eyes off the check that
Carlyle had given me a week ago and frowned under furrowed brows. Theo
stared and stared with that heavy gaze of his, and I sighed as I folded the
rectangular paper. “You haven’t cashed it yet. What’s up?”
“It’s the same amount of money my aunt won in the suit against the
management agency that handled my parents house.” Understanding
flickered in his darkening eyes, and I licked my lips heavily as discomfort
dried my mouth. “My aunt, she used to tell me that spending it little by little,
it’d run out quicker than I thought. I barely ever used it, and I knew from
basically the beginning that she lied about the amount. The only money she
didn’t spend— because she didn’t know about it— was my inheritance. My
mom’s ring, some cash, and some priceless family heirlooms.”
“She sounds like a cunt.” The tactless-yet-true statement earned a nod
from me, and I leaned over across the sofa to rest on Theo’s side. His body
was warm, so much nicer than Carlyle’s, but like Hell I was going to bring
that up. “Do you wanna, I dunno, talk about it?”
“There’s not much to say. I sued her for it all when I turned eighteen, and
then she had the audacity to fucking kill herself because of ‘the stress and
grief and regret.’ Well, a letter saying you’re sorry doesn’t fucking fix the
fact that you spent all my money and kicked me out when you got served,
and then killed yourself rather than pay.” A little, condescending laugh
escaped me at my own tirade, and I huffed a hot breath. “The case is
supposed to be sealed, but Carlyle knows the exact amount. It seems like he
knows everything about me— more than I know about me.”
“How, exactly, did your parents die? Is that when you hurt your chest?”
Nodding, a strange gap hollowed out my chest like every time I had to talk
about it. Therapists made me feel the worst, by far, but I hadn’t felt this way
in a long, long time, atleast a decade once my aunt stopped forcing me to go
to therapy. “What happened?”
“The ceiling fan in my room had faulty wiring because the management
hired someone unqualified to spruce the place up so it’d rent higher. It caught
fire and fell on me. My dad got to me first and threw me out the window, but
when they went back in they both died of smoke inhalation. The fire spread
through the wires really fast because nothing was grounded. My aunt got
custody of me because no one else wanted to take me on after I got out of the
hospital.” The bulky arm around my shoulders rippled in comforting anger,
and I closed my eyes to draw my knees up. “One time, I took off my shirt
after my boyfriend told me he could handle it, and he puked all over me. I
started wrapping up after I moved because the heat made my shirts stick to
my scars, and I always made sure the guys were blackout drunk.”
“I guess it wouldn’t matter if I told you I could handle it, huh?” I shook
my head, and Theo sighed heavily, shuffling to cup my cheek against his
cheek. “What about now? How do you like the place? You slept in a real bed
last night.”
“Yesterday was really . . . overwhelming. I could go back to sleep right
now, I think.” Theo had woken me up when he knocked on my front door,
and he squeezed me gingerly as memories of the day before flashed behind
my shuttered lids. After Carlyle left, I passed out dead and blocked out the
fact that he touched me because I knew it was just an intimidation tactic.
Admittedly, a little belatedly, I realized Carlyle might be pushing me closer to
Theo.
It was his smirk, not his brush against me, that haunted me, to be
perfectly honest.
“Let’s go, then.” Hooking his arm under my knees, Theo hoisted me into
his lap before standing up, and I wound my arms around his shoulders. His
muscles played against my side, and he flashed me an almost charming
smirk. “I promise not to watch you sleep like a creep.”
“I don’t think you’re a creep anymore, Theo. I am kinda pissed you
ignored me for the past week, though.” Reaching up to touch the scar on his
face, I dragged my fingertips down the smooth, jagged surface as warmth
skittered up my arm just under my skin. “What about this one?”
“I got into a bar fight. It looked worse than it was.” Kicking open my
bedroom door— that’s so strange to think— Theo sat me on my bed— even
more strange. Rubbing my palms against the soft comforter, I scooted back
into the rumpled sheets as he pulled his shirt off. Blinking hard, the hairs on
the back of my neck bristled at the huge, gnarly gashes that indented his
entire right side. It struck me hard that he’d never taken off his shirt in front
of me. At the crackhouse, he had a wife beater on underneath, so I’d never
seen these scars. The pink line that ripped up his bicep stopped just under his
armpit, and actual dents marred his otherwise wonderfully sculpted muscles.
Crawling onto the bed to loom over me, Theo grabbed my hand to put my
palm on his right side, and his skin twitched noticeably. My breath caught at
how smooth it was— how the coarse, thick hairs on his chest just stopped and
gave way to pink and grey scars.
 “The tire.” Dragging my palm up over the side of his pectoral muscle,
Theo’s mumble drew my gaze to his, and I bit down on my bottom lip hard.
His face was so close, his heat seeping through my pajamas— so weird— and
he held my hand to his right shoulder to cover with his own. “Bullet.”
“Kiss me.” Blurting out the demand, heat engulfed my face when Theo’s
lip twitched up, and his gaze tenderized. Wrapping my hands around his
neck, I rubbed my thumbs against the stubble of his jaw, but he only shook
his head. My heart hammered against my ribs, the ruined skin on my chest
tightening painfully, and my mouth dried as it opened. “Why not? You said
you would.”
“Take your bandages off.” My breath caught, and I tensed as my heart
sputtered briefly, but it was enough for Theo to grumble lowly in his chest in
acknowledgment. Pressing his forehead against mine, he held my gaze
despite being so close, and I licked my dry lips as shame sloshed in my chest.
“That’s why.”
“Yeah.” Gulping down the dense lump in my throat, I held my breath as
Theo shuffled back to kick off his jeans. He bent over the foot of the bed to
grab my pajama pants by the ankles, and my core clenched at the bulge in his
loose, plain, black boxers. The scar on my chest stretched down almost to my
knees at its longest point— an outline of the fan blade— and he caressed up
my inner thighs with questions in his eyes.
“Lay down.” Despite saying ‘no’, Theo’s voice came out a rough growl,
and goosebumps blanketed my legs as he crawled up my body. He was a tiger
ready to pounce but waiting for the perfect moment, and he dropped against
my side to pull my knees over his thighs. So close, he was all I could smell,
and he caressed my cheek as he worked his arm under the pillow.
27

Theo
“Illya, what are you doing?” Mumbling as Illya wiggled her way out of bed, I
had to physically stop myself from throwing my arm over her to keep her
still. Cracking open my eyes, I followed her silhouette through the gloom
before she very carefully turned the overhead light onto its lowest setting.
“Come back here.”
“I’m hungry.” Inhaling deeply, I held my breath for a second before
sitting up and exhaling a blustering sigh. Ruffling my hair roughly, I shook
my head and rolled my shoulders, and she was still by the door when I threw
my legs over the side of the bed. My feet didn’t leave the pristine, barely used
carpet, and I scrunched up my face as I blinked hard.
“What time is it?” I patted for my pockets before remembering I’d taken
my pants off, and a frown twisted my lips. When was the last time I’d taken
my clothes off before going to bed? It just seemed like the right thing to do
when I knew better than to get caught without. Bending to snatch my jeans, I
pulled my phone out and winced at the bright, blue light that pierced my
eyeballs.
“I thought you’d tell me a dick joke.” Snorting roughly at that, I dropped
my phone onto my pants on the floor to throw my arm around Illya’s
shoulders. Scratching my jaw hard with my left hand, my right buried in her
hair to knead her scalp as my brain puttered along until it found a reply.
“I could’ve, but I’m not gonna. Food isn’t a joke when I know you had no
problem eating wet cat food.” Truth be told, it hadn’t even occurred to me to
say something like that. I was fucking dead. Heading out of the bedroom and
into the hall, I held Illya’s head to my shoulder to bury my nose in her hair. “I
haven’t slept so well in a long time.”
“Me either.” Edging the living room, my legs tightened when carpet was
replaced with cold tile, and Illya tensed against my side. “This is so
uncomfortable. I know it’s mine, but . . . ”
“Want me to make you something?” Eyes widened with surprise flew to
bore holes in my chin, and I couldn’t help but smirk as Illya nodded hastily.
“Come on.”
 Illya’s apartment was exactly the same layout as mine, and I wasn’t
surprised to find all the shit in the kitchen was in the same spots, too. She
watched curiously, almost bewildered, as I pulled a cutting board out from
behind the toaster oven, and a bubble of satisfaction popped in my chest.
Reaching under the counter for a pan, I set it on the stove before gesturing to
the refrigerator.
“What do you want?” I wasn’t a chef by any means, but I knew more than
how to boil water and add mac’n’cheese. Slowly shuffling to the fridge, Illya
grabbed the door but didn’t tug, and my heart throbbed slightly. She just
stared for a long moment, her knuckles whitening as she squeezed and
released the handlebar, and my brows furrowed deeply.
“I . . . I can’t . . . I can’t do it.” Sauntering the short distance to her, I
covered Illya’s hand with mine, and her fingers flexed stiffly. Her nerves
thrummed through me, and I gingerly popped the seal to release a blast of
cool air. She sucked in a sharp breath and shivered against my chest, and I
couldn’t help but scowl at how anxious just the idea of a full fridge made her.
And, man, it was packed with everything she might need to cook
whatever she wanted. Grabbing her shoulder when her knees quaked against
mine, I ground my teeth at how impactful something so seemingly normal
could be. In California, she had nothing, but here she had anything and
everything.
My scowl darkened when Illya sniffled, and she reached a trembling hand
into the refrigerator tentatively. When her fingers brushed a gallon of milk,
she choked out a little laugh, as if she expected it to be a really good
hologram or something.
“Do you need a minute?” She shook her head, giving me a glance at her
mystified expression, and I pursed my lips thinly against the barrage of
emotions swirling in my chest. “Let’s make eggs. Easy, right?”
“Um . . . yeah. Okay.” Reaching around her to grab the eggs sitting on the
top shelf, I left Illya to lean into the refrigerator and gaze at the food like she
was seeing the stars for the first time. “There’s bacon . . . ”
“We’ll make bacon.” The time on the stove read three-thirty-six a.m., and
I set the eggs on the counter to go back and grab butter and milk. “Grab
whatever you want.”
The way she stayed still was kinda pathetic, to be honest, but I wasn’t
gonna judge her beyond the simple fact that her situation was really, really
fucked up. She held the bacon package so carefully, moving so slowly as she
closed the refrigerator door. Watching her out of the corner of my eye, my
chest tightened, and she held her item like she didn’t want to let it go.
“Come here.” Reaching into an upper cabinet to grab a bowl, I gestured
Illya closer, and she gripped her bacon with a white-knuckled grip. Pulling
her between myself and the counter, I ignored the ugliness building against
my ribs and popped open the egg carton. Holding her hands in my own, I
managed to wrestle the bacon from her and replace it with spreadable butter.
“You’re not gonna wake up and find out it was a dream, Illya. It’s okay.”
My mumble made her shiver against my front, and I pressed my cheek to
Illya’s temple as she shuddered a sigh.
“This would be a nightmare.” Sucking my teeth at that, I didn’t deem a
reply, instead reaching for the silverware drawer. “I’m pretty pathetic, aren’t
I?”
“It’ll get better.” Holding the knife in her hand, I guided her through
unfamiliar movements and focused on savoring this experience. After all,
something like this only happened once. It’d get easier and easier, less
thoughtful, less impactful, as time went on. “When was the last time you
cooked something?”
“Probably before my parents died. With my burns, I couldn’t stand near
the stove and burners and stuff.” I didn’t have shit to say to that. How fucked
up . . . how fucked up was Illya’s life, and she was pretty alright? How much
could a person endure?
What kind of asshole was I with my superficial problems?
“Well . . . ” Clearing my throat roughly, I tightened my grip on her hands
and poised the knife over the container. “You can prep.”
Every movement was sluggish, but Illya must’ve forgotten that she hadn’t
eaten in three days— or maybe it was normal and didn’t bother her? I didn’t
know, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to ask. Slapping the butter into the pan,
I only guided her movements, and her palms were hard and stiff from
discomfort. Taking a deep breath of her smell, I closed my eyes briefly as she
capped the tub of butter and set it aside.
“Do you want toast and English muffins?”
“Both?” Nodding at the question, I ignored when Illya’s breath hitched
loudly in the otherwise quiet kitchen to bounce off the granite counter.
Maybe, it’d be a while before she got used to this.
I could get used to this easy. I could wake up like this. I could do this
every day. I could get comfortable with this tug on my heart.
28

Illya
A soft knock on the front door drew my attention from the television, and I
cast a questioning glance at Theo. He simply shrugged, not bothering to
pause the show before hoisting himself up from the sofa. My gaze followed
him, his taut muscles rippling, his boxers clinging to his ass, and I licked my
lips heavily. Taking another bite of my sandwich, even cold, it was the most
delicious thing I’d ever put in my mouth.
Well, almost— it was definitely number two on my list of top two.
“I had a feeling you’d be here.” Carlyle sounded so damn smug, and I
frowned around my sandwich as he appeared from behind the corner of the
short hallway. He downright grinned, that stupid, knowing glint in his eye
shimmering brightly, and I nodded politely. “Unfortunately for you, I’m
going to be borrowing Theo today. Although you don’t start until
Wednesday, he’s already on the clock.”
“We already slept together and had breakfast. It’s time for him to run out,
anyway.” What a weird concept— breakfast. Shooting me a mock glare,
Theo headed for the back hallway, and I unfolded my legs out from under me
with a pointed look. “What do you want, Carlyle.”
“I brought you this.” Setting a DVD on the coffee table, in a clear,
generic case, Carlyle rocked back on his heels as suspicion sloshed in my
chest. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. How are you liking the place?”
“It’s nicer than my last place.” My nonchalant answer earned me an
almost playful glower, and Carlyle stuffed his hands into his pockets to look
around. “I don’t get the impression you came here just for him.”
Taking a bite of my sandwich, I bit back a groan at how good it tasted. I
didn’t know Theo could cook. For a second, I ignored Carlyle’s silence as I
thought about that notion. How much did I really know about Theo? How
much did I really want to know about him?
Both of us had it bad for such polar opposite reasons. Twisting at his
slight stomping into the living room, I frowned in dismay at the clothes that
shielded Theo’s body. Leaning over the back of the straight, light grey sofa,
he buried his nose in my hair, and my eyelids fluttered closed to relish this
moment of bliss. It was a fraction of a second long, maybe, before he pulled
back, and I settled in as Theo braced his palms on either side of me.
“Enjoy your day. Maybe go through your closet and make sure
everything fits, Illya.” My brows rose at that, and Carlyle gestured Theo with
him and cast me a stern look. “Just let me know if something doesn’t. I’ll
have it tailored.”
“Okay.” Swallowing my bite roughly to reply, I frowned slightly when he
turned on his heel, and Theo cast me a ‘what the fuck’ look. I could only
shrug confusedly, and he scowled lightly before following Carlyle out. The
hitch of the lock echoed down the hall to me, and I stared at the entryway for
a moment before shaking my head viciously.
“Whatever.” Grumbling as I took another bite of my dwindling sandwich,
I stuffed the last bit into my mouth and stood up. Snatching the DVD Carlyle
had left me, foreboding clawed at my gut, but I popped it into the player
anyway before my doubt could stop me. “I hope it’s not torture porn or
something.”
The screen turned blue, and I sat back on the coffee table before the
colors flickered and turned into a picture. Squinting in concentration, I
propped my elbows on my knees as a body paced back and forth. An icon in
the corner told me sound had been disabled, but I couldn’t worry about it
when surprise shocked through my chest.
Mateo stomped around like a rabid animal, raking his hands through his
hair, pure agony twisting his features. His lips moved, but I couldn’t make
out what he was saying, if he was saying anything at all. He looked bad, like
he hadn’t slept in the week since I’d last seen him. Holding my breath, I
tensed when the images changed to show a different room.
The camera pointed directly on the bed was in color, unlike Mateo’s, and
Sylvie struggled like a wildcat in a trap. She was drenched in sweat, but
every time she wiggled, there was a faded brown underneath her. Her hair
stuck to her face and crusted every which way, and I covered my mouth as
horror bubbled up my throat. Gaunt cheeks hollowed out as she shrieked
silently, thrashed violently, and blood splattered from her wrists as cuffs cut
into them.
“Oh, my God.” Theo hadn’t been kidding when he said no one was taking
care of her. Sylvie’s ribs poked out from her chest, and she had a crazy look
in her eye when she paused her writhing to breathe. Fisting my palms
together, I held my breath when she jumped in shock, and my former best
friend burst into tears on the screen. She started shaking her head, screaming,
as Mateo advanced on her through the bottom corner of the camera.
The heavy cast iron pan in his hand swung in a blur, and I jumped when it
landed flat on Sylvie’s face. Her head popped open, but Mateo lifted the pan
again and swung down. I was suddenly so, so, so glad I couldn't hear
anything, and her face was unrecognizable when he lifted the pan a final
time. But then, Mateo smashed the edge of the pan into Sylvie’s abdomen.
Wincing as he heaved his whole body into the swing, I wanted to look
away, but I couldn’t. My mind focused on the scene digitized, immortal, in
front of me, and Mateo stumbled away from the bed to rasp massive breaths.
He dropped the pan beyond the edge of the bed, and I didn’t dare blink even
as he covered his face with his hands.
How fucked up do you have to be so torn up about this? What did Mateo
think was going to happen when he got a one-night-stand drug addict
pregnant? Was he so delusional that he really thought things would go well? I
mean, I could’ve felt bad for him if he had some tiny ounce of realistic
expectation to his fantasy.
And Sylvie. With the realization that she’d been using for a while and had
hidden it, I just . . . I didn’t even know. If she told me that second— seemed
remorseful— I would’ve kicked her out, but I would’ve gotten her some help,
too. She got pregnant on purpose, probably to extort Mateo, and then freaked
out when he wanted to be a family. The using intensified, and I found out,
and the rest is history.
That’s what it was, after all— history. Sylvie didn’t exist to me anymore
and hadn’t for a while. Because of her, I went through all this shit that I had
nothing to do with. Sure, I met Theo, which was nice, and I got a new job
with a drug lord that seemed like a good deal, but . . .
I didn’t owe Sylvie any part of me after I kicked her out, and it took me a
bit to figure that out, but I did. By myself.
“Why did Carlyle give me this?” The question had no answer, echoing in
my quiet apartment, and I popped the DVD out to put it back in its case.
“More importantly, why do I feel nothing?”
Again my grumble had no answer, but that might’ve been answer enough
as I shoved the disc case behind the bookshelf and resolved to forget about it.
People came and went. That was how it worked. The people I seemed to trust
always fucked me over somehow, and Sylvie just proved to be no different.
What could I do about it?
Nothing.
29

Theo
Wagging my hand hard, the residual, painful tingling didn’t go away, and I
ran my not-blown-off fingers through my hair roughly. Making breakfast
together had seemed like such a great idea, aside from the fact Illya couldn’t
use the stovetop, of course. Ever since picking up that stupid pan, though, my
right had been having a fit.
Thankfully, it wasn’t terribly painful, but I could definitely do without the
spasms up my arm right now.
“Remind me again why I have to follow you around like a dog in a place
like this.” Scowling as Carlyle glanced up from his phone, I flexed my ruined
hand against the flat of the table. The mall we were in was packed, and his
light, hazel eyes flickered to my hand as I sat back.
“You are a dog, Theo, at least, when you’re with me. Why does that have
to be negative, huh? Do you know how good dogs have it in this society?” I
only grunted at that, forcing my fingers as straight as they’d go, which wasn’t
that much of an accomplishment. The sting zinging up my arm abated briefly,
and Carlyle lounged against the booth with a short sigh. “We’re waiting on a
friend of mine to deliver something. She’s a bit of a nut, and this is the place
she picked.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you waited for anyone, Carlyle.” He seemed to
constantly surprise, and he smirked at my observation. Over the past week or
so since locking Mateo up in his house without so much as a flicker of an
eyelid of emotion, Carlyle almost acted overly dramatic. It was as if he was
trying to prove that he wasn’t just a sicko with a bone to pick with his little
brother.
“She’s pretty paranoid, so I don’t really have a choice. She does great
work for me, though.” Vague answers to not-so-questionable questions.
Carlyle didn’t give me any more than that, and I frowned as my lips thinned
before clenched teeth. Interest sparked in his eye, and he flopped his head
back before sitting up hastily. “So, tell me something. What do you know
about my operations? We’ve never talked about it. I assumed Mateo wouldn’t
be able to give any straight answers considering he’s twice removed.”
 “That’s a dumbfuck question. I know your father runs the Syndicate, and
you’re second in command or some shit like that. I honestly don’t care about
the details.” I rolled my eyes at the surprise that brightened Carlyle’s eyes,
and curiosity rippled across his hard features as I sunk in my seat. “As long
as I get paid, I don’t give two fucks. I can count on my bad hand how many
times Mateo complained about Daddy Dearest and being shoved into the
corner, and I really wasn’t paying attention at the time.”
“Do you know what your name means, Theo?” Irritation raked my eyelid,
and I shook my head as Carlyle propped his elbow on the table to hold his
chin on his fist. “It means ‘divine gift.’ Ironically, the name Mateo also
means ‘gift from God’. You know what my name means? It was originally a
girl’s name, firstly. It means ‘from the walled city’.”
“I really couldn’t give a lesser shit, Carlyle.” My bland tone earned me a
smirk, but I didn’t think too hard on what subliminal message he was trying
to send me. “Why do you think I want to know what your name means?”
“You don’t. I’m only trying to make conversation. I just thought it was
funny— Illya is a boy’s name, and mine was originally a girl’s.” The hairs on
the back of my neck bristled, and my eyes narrowed on Carlyle as he feigned
ignorance. “You wouldn’t think because the connotation of ‘a’ at the end, but
it fits her quite well. I’m sure you agree. Have you seen her chest yet?”
“I bet you’re going to tell me all about it.” My lip twitched in a faint
snarl, and Carlyle caught my gaze levelly. He was trying to push me, to find a
button, but this wasn’t a month ago. I wouldn’t threaten him— I’d just
fucking pop his brains out of his mouth. “Careful what you say, Carlyle,
because I have a feeling that threatening to kill you won’t do shit, so I’ll have
to really kill you to get my point across.”
Lucky for him, Carlyle didn’t laugh, and he leaned forward with a
graveness dragging down his features.
“I was jealous.” My brow rose quizzically at the admission, and Carlyle
smirked a little self-deprecating at me. It almost seemed like he was genuine,
but even that caused my suspicion to rise. “When Mateo hired you, I was
jealous. I admit it. In all seriousness, when I met you, I kinda wanted to kill
him myself just so I could transfer you to my service. You’re not afraid to say
it straight, Theo, and I appreciate that, especially in a person that’s guarding
my life.”
“Right. I don’t suppose you have a reason for not doing that?” The more
time I spent with Carlyle, the more I realized that he was a fucking asshole.
He was a two-faced, smart, beady-eyed asshole that liked to play mind
games, and I fucking hated it. I hated the conversations more than I hated
Mateo’s whining.
However . . . Carlyle didn’t require round the clock babysitting, so I had
free time, which more than made up for some of the more unpleasant
experiences.
“Do you remember how you felt the first time you met me?” Carlyle’s
face twisted in disgust, and I shook my head as the soberness of the moment
blanketed my skin in goosebumps. “That’s how everyone is, and I’m not
going to lie— sometimes, it gets annoying. If I killed Mateo, you would’ve
failed at your job, and, well, then you’d have to die, too. Not exactly what I
want. So, I figured why not kill three birds with one stone?”
He so casually admitted interference that I had to doubletake, and I
cocked my head as I sucked in a sharp breath through flared nostrils. Leaning
back, Carlyle laced his fingers behind his head to blow out a breath, and I
clenched and released my jaw hard.
“I’ve had my eye on Illya for a long time. My father hired her mother—
did you know that? Illya seems to believe her mom was going to the FBI, but
. . . anyway, I started looking into it, and whaddya know? I found her. I
shipped Mateo off to California after I got word that she was there. I didn’t
necessarily consider he’d meet you, but Mateo goes through bodyguards like
candy. It wasn’t luck that you three got together— well, not entirely. Every
situation requires a little bit of luck.” He talked so casually even as his frown
became more and more prominent and nasty, and his biceps flexed under the
strained fabric of his button-down. “I didn’t expect Mateo to get that thing
involved, but it’s an added bonus in my book. Maybe, he’ll break under the
pressure? Maybe, he’ll grow up and stop acting like an angry toddler? Either
way, he’ll finally be out of my hair. I’ve always hated him.”
“You boarded him up in his house like he had the Plague. You
legitimately boarded up the windows and doors.” It was fucking insanity to
think that Carlyle had plans for me long before we met— that he had plans
for Illya— and he arched a brow quizzically.
“So? Mateo acts like a child, I’ll treat him like a child, and children
sometimes need a nice, long time out to reflect on their behavior.” Snorting
roughly at that, I scowled when Carlyle frowned disapprovingly at me.
“Didn’t you threaten to cut your own sister’s fingers off when she was
insensitive about it? How is my forcing my considerations on Mateo so
outlandish?”
“I can’t wait to see how your kids grow up if you make that mistake.” My
grumble only darkened Carlyle’s frown, and I cast him a pointed look. “You
never answered my question. You just changed the subject.”
“I was genuinely curious. I haven’t seen her naked.” The flippant reply
intensified the blood pounding in my ears, and Carlyle lowered his arms as
disinterest masked his features. “Regardless, I’m not interested in seeing her
naked. I’m sure she’s got some horrifying scars, and I’m not particularly
attracted to that kind of thing— although, I’m sure it’s a different story for
you, Theo. To be perfectly clear, here, Theo, I have no interest in her. If she
wasn’t so ruined, physically, then, of course, but . . . ”
Theo shrugged, and disgust clawed up my throat before his eyes wavered
from mine. Twisting as the conversation stumbled to a halt, I frowned deeply
as a familiar body stalked over. That chick worked at the same club as Illya.
“Marcella, my darling.” She slid into the booth next to Carlyle, sinking
deep, until her head couldn’t be seen over the top, and sighed a huge,
exaggerated sigh. “How was your flight back?”
“About as bad as working in that shitty club for three years for nothing.
Are you positive she doesn’t know I’m in cahoots with you, Carlyle, because
I— ” Carlyle held up a hand to stop her, and Marcella’s expression darkened
as she glanced around wearily. “I hate you.”
“That’s all I ask for, Marcella. Next time, don’t do anything stupid, and I
won’t get involved. Do you have what I need?” Casting me a suspicious look,
Marcella stuck her hand deep into her purse, and my mind whirled frantically
trying to put this together. Marcella. Illya had mentioned that name a few
times, that she danced ‘because she liked it’ but her parents were rich and . . .
And it was all a lie? That sucks.
“There won’t be a next time. I’m never doing anything for you ever
again, Carlyle. That was horrible. I’ll never live that down. This is it. Done.
Over. Never contact me again.” Carlyle chuckled, and Marcella stiffened as
he grabbed her neck and forced her head up. Watching outside their little
bubble, I would’ve thought it was almost romantic if not for her thinned lips
and pale cheeks.
“What are you going to do when I contact you again? The only person
that says ‘no’ to me is dead.” He held out his palm, and she stuck something
in it before he let her go, and she couldn’t get up fast enough to run away.
Arching a brow, I kept my mouth shut because, well, fuck this shit.
30

Illya
Eight Weeks Later . . .

Straddling Theo’s waist, I couldn’t help but smile as his palms dragged up
my calves, and he grumbled deep in his chest.
“Fucking creep . . . watching me sleep.” His mumble tugged up the
corners of my mouth, and Theo cracked open his eyes to stare at me blearily.
Kneading the butts of my palms against his chest, I relished his tired,
languish groan, and he reached to grapple my ass in powerful palms. “You
mad at me? What’d I do to deserve this, huh?”
“I’m not mad.” My simple reply earned me a grunt, and I arched into
Theo’s hands to hum as warmth pooled in the pit of my belly. His cock
stiffened against my thigh, and I rolled my hips as he spread my bare ass
cheeks. “Theo . . . ”
Ducking my head, I ground against Theo as tingles shot down my spine,
and my chest tightened when I brushed my lips along his jaw. Strong fingers
squeezed and groped my ass, and he buried his face in my neck to nibble
deliciously. Hopefully, this morning, things would go farther. The notion in
itself was exciting, and my core clenched as I popped my ass. Goosebumps
blanketed my body when my folds wrapped around his cock, and he pushed
down on my ass to slather my juices along his shaft.
“Are you sure you can handle me, Illya?” Gasping as Theo sunk his teeth
deep in my shoulder, I braced my fists on the pillow under his head, and he
caressed up my back. Shivers lodged between my shoulder blades, and I
shuddered in expectation as I nodded against his cheek. “Yeah-h-h . . . I bet
you think so.”
“P-please . . . ” My lips trembled against his ear, and Theo swept his
fingertips down my back at my whimper. Reaching around my thigh, he
pumped his cock, and excitement almost numbed me as I spread my knees.
Palming his chest, I bit down on my bottom lip as pink crept up on my field
of vision. My ribs warbled from the intense desire that battered them, and my
juices seeped out of me as he slapped his cock my core.
 “Why are you so fucking good to me, huh?” The growl caught me off
guard, and I paused as Theo teased my entrance with his left hand. His eyes
met mine, and he frowned under furrowed brows at what must’ve been a
troubled look on my face. “What?”
“What about this is good, Theo? This is what happened last time, and the
time before that, and the time before that. We almost fuck, but we never
actually do. Do you not want to?” Sourness twisted his features, and I pushed
down on his shoulders insistently. “It’s been weeks, and you won’t kiss me.
You’ll stuff your cock down my throat, but you wo— ”
“Illya, we talked about this. Take your bandages off.” The fine hairs on
the back of my neck stood up at that, and my nails dug into Theo’s shoulders
as I frowned darkly. He reached for my face, but I pulled back, and I climbed
off him with his glare strafing my back. “It’s not unreasonable to want to see
you naked. Just because your last boyfriend was a spineless bitch doesn’t
mean I am, too. In case you didn’t notice, I’ve got my fair share of scars,
Illya.”
“Whatever.” Tiny, angry tears pricked my eyes, and I stood up to run
both my hands through my hair roughly. The long, rich strands sucked the
heat from my palms, but it just ended up zinging down my face and sternum
to ball in my chest. “What’s the point?”
“Illya— ”
“No!” Whipping around, my face flamed as my hair sliced my cheek, and
Theo stiffened with his feet on the floor. Pointing at the door with a trembling
hand, I blinked back the sting in my eyes as my heart throbbed painfully.
“Get out if you’re not gonna. You’re a fucking liar, Theo. Everyone I know is
a liar. It’s been weeks— weeks— and all I get is . . . is . . . is your cock in my
mouth? And you won’t even kiss me. What the fuck!”
Sputtering wildly from the force of my emotions, my ruined skin started
to burn from the flames that licked down my neck. This time, my bandages
couldn’t help me, and I heaved harsh pants as Theo stared at me with daggers
in his eyes. His jaw clenched and released, the silence ringing louder and
louder beyond the blood drumming in my ears. Goosebumps washed my
arms, and my breath caught when he slowly stood up with a deep, stabilizing
inhale.
“I told you before that I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to you, Illya. I wouldn’t take
advantage of you, right?” Stiffening when he took a threatening step towards
me, I gasped harshly when Theo grabbed my face with his good hand. His
frigidly cold fingers sucked the heat from my cheeks, and his eyes blazed
with icy sharpness that could cut steel. Short, sharp nails dug into my jaw,
and a tiny sliver of fear lodged in my heart. “It’s been weeks, and all you get
is my cock in your mouth? I won’t kiss you? That’s what you’re complaining
about? Do I want to fuck you? Are you really that fucking stupid, Illya?”
My heart nearly stopped beating when he leaned in so close to my face,
and I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath in quivering lungs.
“I need it. I need your tight pussy around my fingers. I need to taste that
slick juice. But you don’t want to give me all of you, Illya. I thought we had
something deeper than skin.” Theo’s nasty snarl sent spit flying into my face,
and I flinched when he bumped his right knuckles against my bad shoulder.
“I guess I was wrong. You’re not obligated to show me yours, but I’m done
investing more than you. If that’s all you really want— to get fucked without
any of the rest— go ahead.”
“Stop it.” My whimper earned me a vicious growl, and Theo pushed me
against the wall but didn’t press against me. The hairs on the back of my neck
bristled wildly, and I squeezed my eyes tighter shut as his stubble rubbed my
cheek raw.
“I thought we were beyond all this shit, Illya. Do you really want to give
this up? Are we just together to break up? Over a toss in the sack? That’s
what you want to fight about? Really? If that’s what you think— that I’m
content not having all of you— then I’ll walk out that door and not come
back.”
“I’m trying.” Theo was deathly quiet at my admission, and my muscles
locked when he pressed his mangled palm against my chest. With the
bandages, it didn’t hurt— his gentle, bare touch— and my eyes popped open
to catch his.
“Try harder. I don’t know why you won’t take your bandages off, Illya,
but you’re right, what’s the point of any of this if you still don’t trust me?”
My heart hammered against his palm, and he tilted his head to brush his lips
against my temple tenderly. “When you take your bandages off for me, I
want you to do it because you trust me, not because you think it’ll get you
laid.”
“I just want to be closer to you, Theo.” I was so fucking pathetic, and his
cheek twitched when he pulled back. Carefully releasing my face, he caught
my gaze and held it in a vice grip as he scratched his jaw almost casually.
“Do you think you can get that close without compromising yourself?
That’s the point, Illya. You can’t pick and choose. You can’t decide in one
moment that something makes you vulnerable and then another thing, another
moment. It doesn’t work like that.” An ugly blotch smeared across my lungs
and strangled my heart, and I tore my eyes off Theo as shame crawled up my
throat. He sighed heavily, cupping my cheeks in both his palms, and I pursed
my lips thinly against the dense lump that tried to burst through. “I won’t
wait around forever. If you can’t be as honest with me as I am with you, then
there’s nothing more to say.”
“A-are . . . ” Clearing my throat roughly, I licked my dry lips heavily as
anxiety bubbled up like thick, black tar in my gut. “Are you on call today?”
“No.” The large gap between the fingers on his left hand shrunk a little as
he caressed my cheek, and I ground my teeth. “Where do you want to go?”
“A cemetery.” My eyes flickered up to watch Theo’s expression from
under my lashes, and he smiled so tenderly. “If . . . if I start anywhere, it’d be
there.”
Reaching to wipe his saliva from my face, Theo traced my lips with his
thumb, and I tilted my head to rest my forehead on his sternum. Closing my
eyes as he cupped the back of my head, I inhaled a shallow breath of his
musky smell and held it deep in my lungs.
“I know it’s different, Illya. You do this a lot, get all huffy about opening
up.” Kneading my scalp, Theo pressed his lips to my crown as shame rattled
my ribs at his mumble. “Trusting me will get you farther than this superficial
shit.”
“I don’t think it’s superficial to want to be under you.” Taking him by the
wrist, I dragged his palm down from my chin, and he tensed as he palmed my
breast gently. Covering all his fingers with mine, I exhaled slowly, but my
bandages kept the friction from his callouses from causing me any pain. It
was almost symbolic, and he held my head firmer to his chest as his heart
thundered against my eye sockets. “It doesn’t hurt like this.”
“It doesn’t feel good, either, does it?” No, not really. But Theo already
knew the answer to his own question.
31

Theo
Glancing at Illya out of the corner of my eye, I pursed my lips against the
frown that threatened to twist my face. Over the past eight weeks, things had
stabilized for the most part. Illya was actually a little excited to do some
corporate espionage, and I got two days off of my choosing a week. I hadn’t
seen hide or hair of Mateo, but I knew he was around because, every so often,
I’d hear one of the cleaning ladies talking about cleaning his pigsty of an
apartment.
After the whole mess with Sylvie resolved, he seemed reclusive and
quiet, which was a-o-fucking-kay with me. I liked the silence, and Carlyle
wasn’t too bad to listen to, at the very least.
Tightening my grip on the wheel as we drove the rolling back roads
towards Massachusetts, I rubbed my tongue against the roof of my mouth.
“You didn’t tell me you used to live in Mass.” Every time I thought we
were getting a little closer, Illya would push me back somehow. She hummed
softly from the passenger seat, and I craned my neck as I adjusted in my own.
“Where else have you lived?”
“Just Springfield and in Mexico.” The short answer was more than I had a
right to expect. I knew I was pushing buttons that I shouldn’t. Illya didn’t
abandon her family— didn’t have that decision to go back and try to make
amends— the way I had. Her whole family had been burnt to a crisp, and that
really sucked.
But that was as much a determination as it was a drawback. I couldn’t
have a part of her, even though it was mightily hypocritical of me. After all, it
wasn’t like I had given her all of me, yet, either. That would entail showing
her how easy it was to kill someone, to snuff out a life and all that potential
with no regrets and no lost sleep.
“When I came back from the Marines, I lived in Washington, D.C. for a
while. That sucked ass. It was so expensive.” Maybe, it’d be better to keep
my mouth shut, and Illya propped her elbow on the center console to stare at
me. Her slender brows furrowed, and she puffed out her lips as I flicked on
my blinker as we neared a stop sign. “What?”
 “Since we’re doing this . . . I’m kinda nervous.” Arching a brow
quizzically, I nearly choked on my own spit, and she frowned darkly out of
my peripheral. “The only guys I’ve ever had sex with were so drunk they
could barely get it up. I was always on top. Some times, I didn’t even have to
take off my clothes if I wore a skirt. It’s just safer that way because there’s
this time where they’re really grabby, and I can’t do that.”
“I already figured that out. Why do you think I go so far only to stop right
before the good part?” Her mossy green eyes brightened at my admission,
and I cleared my throat roughly; having a conversation like this was surreal. I
never expected to have to explain myself to her. “Grabbing tits isn’t exactly
something I think about, so I’ve been trying to get myself out of the habit. It’s
frustrating, I get it, but you gotta have a little faith in me, Illya.”
“Ooh.” A grim smirk tilted my lips, and I reached to rub her head and
ruffle her hair roughly. Honestly, Illya was really sad and pathetic, how she
didn’t expect people to act with her interests in mind. It’d been months, and
she questioned everything I did for her. She always expected to have to pay
me back in some way. “I’m making this difficult, aren’t I? It was easier
before Carlyle picked me up.”
“Do you have any family in Mass. now?” Changing the subject rather
than agree with her and make it worse, I paused at the stop sign as Illya
nodded. “Do you want to visit them, too?”
“Might as well. Do you ever go see your parents?” My cheek twitched at
that, and I shook my head as memories flooded my mind’s eye. “Why not?”
“They’re still pissed at me about my sister. I mean, I don’t blame them. I
wasn’t okay at the time, but Kelsie was still in the wrong as well. If I had to
take a side, I’d take hers. I would’ve cut her fingers off. If I had the chance
again, I’d do it without hesitation.” Inhaling deeply through my nose, I lifted
my right hand to stretch my mangled fingers taut, and tension prickled up my
arm. “I always hated her, stuck up bitch. It’s not out of character for her to
say shit like that. I remember the day she was born. The fuck does she think,
that she’s better than everyone else just because she’s got the suburbia dream
life?”
“I had little twin brothers. They both died in the fire when the roof
collapsed. I’ve got a bunch of aunts and uncles on both sides, but Carol was
relatively drama-free at the time. Now that I’m older, I don’t blame anyone
for not taking me in. Everyone has their own problems, and despite being
family, they’re not obligated to take me on. Especially with all the care I
needed. That’s not fair to anyone.” The more she revealed, the darker,
raspier, Illya’s voice became, and I reached into the cup holder to check the
GPS on my phone with a low grunt. “Carol killed herself. I told you about
that. Her husband took on her court case and didn’t try to contest it. He
probably didn’t have any fight in him because of her death. In the end, she
shirked it off onto others and got away scot-free.”
“So, what happened? To the money they owed you?”
“I dropped it. He didn’t even know what was going on. He thought she
got a promotion and a bonus at work for some of the more noticeable stuff. I
wanted to fuck her over, but she took the easy way out. He offered to pay
some of it, or make a plan or something, but . . . it was about the money, but
not really about the money, you know?” A harsh bark of shock escaped me,
and I turned away from the road as Illya sat back with a heavy sigh. “I was
young and stupid. I was already homeless, so it couldn’t get worse, or so I
believed at the time. It’d be easy to get a job at McDonalds or whatever. I
speak six languages, and that’s gonna get me somewhere. Well, it didn’t, but
I couldn’t just go back. Fuck that.”
“How come you always stick to your decisions unless I’m involved?” My
tease earned me a slight push from over the center console, and I leaned back
to stretch my leg a little. “No, seriously, though. Why do you make awful
decisions and stick by them, but you waver on the good ones until they turn
bad?”
“Maybe, I just like wallowing in my misery because it’s comfortable. The
unknown is scary.” Snorting roughly at that, I shook my head, and Illya
frowned out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t know. Maybe, it’s because I
care about your opinion.”
I smirked broadly as Illya looked out the window, her hair falling over
her shoulder to hide her pink cheeks. This was one of those moments that I
always thought brought us a little closer— and then she’d fuck it up.
But, surprisingly, she didn’t disappoint this time, and I arched a brow
when she huffed softly.
“I know I just said I didn’t blame him, but I still wanna kick him in the
balls for being an ignorant ass.” Really, I couldn’t say anything about that.
I’d never met the guy, but I couldn’t believe he was so trusting of his wife.
Truthfully, a few grand of a surprise remodel would’ve been understandable,
but tens of thousands of dollars?
“Where do your parents live, Theo?” The question threw me for a loop,
and I reached to rub my head and neck in discomfort.
“Uh . . . I don’t really know, to be honest. They cut contact with me after
all that shit.” My grumble of a reply earned me expectant silence, and I
glanced over the center console as Illya stared at her lap intently under
furrowed brows. “I’ve never thought of trying to reconnect with them. Are
you gonna tell me I should?”
“No.” She reached to brush her fingers along her jaw thoughtfully, and I
grunted softly. A knot formed in my chest, but I shook my head and focused
on the road. We’d taken the scenic route up through Connecticut, and I
managed to avoid most of the highways. “Family is as much a good thing as
a bad thing. Just because I don’t have mine anymore doesn’t mean you’re
obligated to suffer for yours.”
32

Illya
“I feel like this is the calm before the storm.” Goosebumps blanketed my
arms and legs, and I flexed my grip on the door handle as Theo jerked the
emergency brake. The cemetery was deathly still and silent, and I inhaled a
stabilizing breath before popping open the door. “I don’t like this.”
“What is ‘this’?” I wasn’t sure if that question had an answer yet, and I
pursed my lips thinly as I climbed out of the car. We’d been driving for
hours, but I wasn’t stiff or tired. There was no apprehension running through
my veins. There was nothing except this intense sense of foreboding gorging
on my insides. This feeling had been building the past two weeks or so, and I
wasn’t sure if it was simply because Carlyle’s grace period was up, or it was
something more sinister.
Granted, Carlyle was sinister in himself. Whatever he wanted me to do
wasn’t just basic blackmail.
“Is wanting to come here more about starting your job?” As if he read my
thoughts, Theo rounded the front of his car to sling his arm over my
shoulders, and my expression soured. Glancing around at the beautiful
landscaping and bright sun shining down on everything, making headstones
glimmer, I only jerked my head in a nod. “Don’t be nervous, Illya. Carlyle’s
not so bad once you get used to him.”
“My parents were great people, and this is what I’m doing. I don’t even
know what it is I’m doing. Carlyle won’t tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’m
sure it’s going to be a baptism of fire.” I rested my cheek on his chest, and we
started walking through the headstones, immersing me in a strange sense of
surrealism. I’d never thought to be back here, and I thought moving to
California would make that impossible. “I don’t feel anything but dread,
Theo. I mean, being here . . . my parents and my brothers are dead. They’re
not ghosts or up in Heaven. They’re rotted in the ground, and they don’t hold
any sway on my life right now. I just . . . I came here because I thought it’d
be easier to do it here instead of being trapped in that place.”
“Do what? I’m not screwing you in a cemetery, Illya.” Frowning darkly, I
didn’t offer a response to that, and Theo palmed my head as we walked down
the path. “Do what, Illya?”
“To figure out my life.” My answer earned me a questioning grunt, and I
glanced over at the rows and rows of perfectly trimmed grass. Why didn’t
people treat others this well until after they died? Licking my lips heavily, I
held back a sigh, and my worries seemed to roll easily off my tongue. “What
kind of person am I if I’m not starving and living under a tarp? I don’t know.
I thought maybe coming here would help me get some perspective on who I
could be, because I really can’t picture myself not struggling. That’s kinda
sad.”
“Carlyle may be a drug lord or terrorist or whatever they call it these
days, but what does that mean for me? How much of it can I ignore, and how
much of it should I look at? These past few weeks have been great, but I can’t
open the refrigerator without effort. I can’t leave that building without being
gripped by apprehension that I won’t be able to get back in.” Slowly, my
tangent came to an end, and I heaved a massive, exhausted breath as Theo
kneaded my scalp gingerly. “If I take my bandages off, I can’t put them back
on again. I don’t know if I’m ready to take that step, Theo.”
“Illya.” Resting his chin on my crown, Theo sighed heavily through his
nose, and I gulped down the dense lump in my throat. “No one really knows
anything until they try it. There’s never a sure answer— you can always be
surprised by how you react to something. And, yeah, Carlyle’s a dick, but if
you stay on his good side, he’s not going to be a dick to you. He says it all the
time that he really likes you. I think you should take that at face value and not
worry about how he treats others.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Look at what he did to his own
brother.” My grumble muffled in Theo’s chest as we turned to walk along the
tombstones, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth. “That DVD he
gave me . . . I was Sylvie’s best friend for years— half a decade— and when
I watched her basically get murdered, there was nothing. I didn’t expect that.
I wasn’t horrified or sick or even glad or . . . or anything.”
“She hurt you, but either not that bad or your friendship wasn’t as strong
as you thought it was, Illya. Sylvie was around so you didn’t feel alone, but
how good a friend was she, really? As far as Carlyle giving you that DVD in
the first place, I think he did it out of what tiny good place he has in his heart.
Ignoring everything, she got some rich guy trapped. That says a lot about her
character that she’d be willing to put someone through that for her own
selfishness.” I knew Theo was talking about the baby, not Mateo, and he
tugged gently on my hair. “If you did that to me, I’d probably kill you, too.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I can’t have kids, then.” His grim smirk was so
deep I felt it through my hair, and I reached to grab his right hand and press it
against my abdomen. Warm and hard, he put just a tiny bit of pressure to my
bandages, and his other hand tightened in my hair. “When I was sixteen, two
years after the accident, I decided to get a hysterectomy. I was dating my first
boyfriend, the one I showed my scars to, and if I did get pregnant by
accident, all sorts of horrible shit would happen to my body. Despite all her
faults, my aunt was actually the one that pushed it the hardest even before we
were told the insurance would cover it.”
“Whatever happened to him, anyway?” Pausing our journey just before
one particular headstone, I turned to Theo as rage blazed in his eyes and
tightened his tone.
“I don’t know. He never talked to me again, just disappeared despite
having the same circle of friends. My mom always told me that if a guy does
that, not to get hung up on him.” Gesturing to the light-colored marble, I
smiled sadly as Theo’s gaze flickered to it only to jump back to me. “She
used to talk about guys a lot, and how I should never compromise myself. I
should never move for a guy, even across the street. I should never let a guy
do anything that made me uncomfortable, from paying for something and
up.”
“Your mom’s a badass.” Turning to the gravestone, Theo tightened his
grip on my shoulders and head as I hummed in agreement. “She raised you to
get through this shitstorm. It always amazes me how normal you are, Illya.”
“Normal.” My mom’s headstone glowed in the bright sun of late
morning, and I sat down to cross my legs in the lush, green grass. I didn’t
understand the concept of considering the dead just because they were dead,
and no emotions tightened my chest as I stared at the name scrawled
elegantly into the marble. “I guess that’s a good word to use.”
Theo dropped down behind me, draping his legs around mine, and I
leaned back against his chest to soak up his warmth. Today was beautiful, but
I couldn’t enjoy it as my gut rot intensified. Tilting my head to stare at my
dad and twin brother’s stones, I licked my lips heavily as anxiety gnawed at
the back of my throat.
“Things have been normal, haven’t they? Am I just waiting for something
awful to happen?” My murmur earned me silence, and I closed my eyes to
lean heavier against him. Settling his hands on my shoulders, Theo squeezed
and rubbed softly, and I wished that just a little bit of his security would seep
through my skin. “What if I’m not cut out for normal?”
“Then we’ll just have to find something you’re kickass at. That’s what
life’s about, Illya— it never stops. Only the lucky ones find that security.”
My lip twitched up, and Theo buried his nose in my hair to breathe a heavy,
hot sigh that rolled down the back of my neck. “We’re just lucky to be alive.”
33

Theo
Today was apparently soul-searching day, and I reached to rub the back of
my neck absently as Illya poked around in the gas station. Springfield was
nice, everything was clean, and this was definitely a place I’d like to come
vacation if the urge ever took me. Leaning on the checkout counter a little
ways from the register, I watched her carefully, so carefully, pick up every
single item on the shelf, look at the ingredients, and decide she didn’t want it
before putting it back.
“Your girlfriend’s really picky, isn’t she?” The Boston twang of the
cashier wasn’t laced with snark or anything. In fact, she sounded kinda sad,
and I glanced over with a curt nod. Her teenage face kinda fell, and I frowned
under furrowed brows before turning back to Illya. She picked up a protein
bar and rocked back on her heels, but my mind caught on the cashier’s
question.
Was Illya my girlfriend? We’d never talked about it— we just ate
together, practically lived together at this point. I fingered her, and she blew
me, and then we fell asleep together.
What the fuck kind of dumbass question was that? Of course, we were
together.
“This one.” Illya sauntered over to set her protein bar on the counter, and
I didn’t bother pulling out my wallet just so she could tell me to fuck off. She
paid the stupid dollar easily, and my gaze flickered to the check folded neatly
in one of her wallet pockets.
“Do you want to stop somewhere and grab some lunch, and you can eat
that on the way home?” Posing my question as we left the gas station, I
swung my arm over her shoulders as Illya shook her head. “I’ll get something
somewhere. I’m starving.”
“I thought you’d try to talk me out of going to my uncle’s house.”
Shrugging as I pulled my keys out of my pocket, I flexed my bad hand as
tension zinged up my arm. “Why not?”
“Why would I? Honestly, Illya, I don’t know enough about your shitty
uncle to have an opinion. If you want to avoid being home and the fact that
you work on Monday with this shit, which option is worse? That’s how it
looks to me, at least.” And it was true— I didn’t know, and I didn’t really
care. Illya came here on her own suggestion, which meant that her anxiety
over Carlyle was worse than her lifelong teenage trauma. “I’m having a nice
time, though.”
“Oh, that’s good.” A smirk tilted my lips, and I squeezed her to my side
as I remotely unlocked my car. “I don’t even know if they still live there.
Maybe they moved. I don’t know which I want more— them to be there or
not.”
“I guess we’re gonna find out.” There wasn’t much else I could say
unless Illya said it first. What little I knew about these people, they were
scum. Parting from me to head to the passenger side, she furrowed her brows
troublingly, and I pursed my lips thinly. This wasn’t exactly what I wanted to
do with my day off, but I wasn’t stupid. Illya and I both had our ups and
downs. We both had moments when we wanted something bad enough to say
it, and then regretted it.
Like fucking her brains out. When she told me so many weeks ago that
she’d work with Carlyle, I couldn’t think of anything but how accessible
she’d be to me. We’d turn up the heat, do the thing, bump the uglies.
But it didn’t turn out like that. For all that talk, I wouldn’t blow her back
out just because I wanted to. It had to mean something. It had to be special.
Maybe, my not having been laid in a couple years made the notion more
romanticized, but that was the easy way out.
I was in love with Illya, and I wasn’t going to fuck her until I knew she
was in love with me, too. What kind of bullshit is that?
“Hey, Theo?” Humming softly in acknowledgment as I pulled forward, I
glanced at the road under furrowed brows, and Illya sighed before continuing.
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Do you not want to go?” My probe gave me the exact reaction I was
expecting— nothing. Illya sort of shrugged, her expression unchanging, and I
wasn’t sure if she was talking about working or visiting her uncle. “A bad
feeling about what?”
It took a lot of time and effort to get a straight answer out of her. I was
always surprising myself with how much patience I had with Illya. Her
vague, dodgy replies and general lack of understanding of herself was
something I’d grown accustomed to. After all, she never had an opportunity
to know herself, and that’s what this whole trip was supposedly about.
 “I don’t know. I just have this . . . this vague sense of doom. Like
something is going to happen.” Anything that’s not a direct threat to her, she
doesn’t know how to handle. “Things have never gone this good before.
Maybe, I’m just overly pessimistic.”
“Illya.” Pausing to take a turn at a green arrow, I scanned for any fast
food place as her self-doubt distracted me from the fact that we’d fought
instead of having breakfast. “Okay, I’m not saying you shouldn’t be cautious
and thorough, but the whole doubting yourself bullshit has to stop. If you feel
like that, there’s usually a reason. You should trust yourself a little more
when it comes to personal shit. I mean, you held your own against Carlyle the
first time you met him, and he blindsided you and is generally pretty
menacing regardless. Where’d that go, huh?”
“He can kill me. That’s straightforward, Theo.” I couldn’t argue with that
point, and Illya ran her hand through her hair absently with a groan of
frustration. “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just accept that I’ve got it
as good as it can be and not trying to ruin it by psyching myself out?”
“Fuck if I know.” Flicking on my blinker, I reached to rub my jaw
absently as my mind whirred. “Make a decision and stick to it, for better or
worse. That’s my best advice.”
“It was a lot easier when I did things out of necessity instead of just
wanting to do it.” Illya sat up straighter at her own grumble, and I turned into
McDonalds smoothly as she slapped her hands together. Arching a brow
quizzically, I pulled up into the drive-thru lane before casting her a look.
“That’s it, isn’t it? I can do whatever I want now. I don’t have to do anything
if I don’t want to.”
“You’ve never done anything, like, at all, just because you wanted to?”
Skepticism thickened my tone, and Illya frowned under furrowed brows for a
long moment before shaking her head. “Seriously? Are you fucking with me
right now?”
“As an adult, no. I only did what I had to. I worked, slept, woke up,
repeat. Until I moved here, I never had downtime. One time, I worked three
jobs— that was while I was at the women’s shelter.” Scowling darkly at that,
I covered my mouth as disgust coated my tongue. Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry,
but I was in line, so . . . “Carlyle must’ve known that. That’s why he gave me
two whole months with nothing to do. I’m not used to doing nothing.”
“He gave you time to go crazy with boredom? So you’d want to do
something you like?” I mean, that sounded like something Carlyle would do.
He talked all the time about Illya being so pathetic and how he felt sorry for
her. Why would that be limited to after meeting her if he really did do all he
could find out all about her? “It took you long enough to figure it out.”
“This is the first time I’ve left my apartment since moving there, though.”
No wonder he feels that way. She is kinda pathetic. “All I’ve done is hang out
with you or watched TV or tried on clothes. I have so many clothes, and I’m
not even done yet.”
“I’m flattered that I’m the defining factor on your sanity.” Still, it seemed
like such a simple concept, and Illya was looking for the one farthest from it.
Downtime? Rest and relaxation? She smiled as I inched my car up the lane,
and I gripped the wheel with my good hand to reach over the center console.
“Even if that was the reason, how does that help you now that your time is
up? You start on Monday.”
“I-I don’t know that, yet. Maybe, just the realization is enough. I mean, it
took me two months to figure it out, right?” Rubbing her smooth cheek, I
pursed my lips and simply accepted that. Illya looked for the worst of the
worst in most situations, so ignoring the most mundane reason wasn’t so out
of character. It might’ve made her feel like an idiot, but . . .
That was something I liked about her. Now if I can just get her to be a
little more self-confident.
34

Illya
Music pumped through the house, and I leaned on the driver’s side door of
Theo’s car as I stared from across the street. That gut-churning, sinking
feeling hadn’t gone away, but it’d lessened enough not to make me projectile
vomit. Scratching my head as anxiety tingled my fingertips, I inhaled a deep,
calming breath. Vehicles lined this section of street and crammed in the
driveway, but everything looked exactly how I remembered.
“So, are you gonna go inside?” Grunting at the question, I nodded even
though I just continued to gaze, and my lips twisted in a frown. “Don’t make
me drag you in there, Illya. I drove all the way here because ‘why not,’ so
you better get something out of this.”
“It looks the same as it did ten years ago.” If I held up a picture from back
then, the only difference would be the car in the open garage. The suburb
itself hadn’t changed much, either— a few trees here and there, a new sign.
Focusing on the house, I exhaled slowly and nodded again before pushing
myself off the door. “They’re having a party. Let’s go crash it.”
Striding across the street, I could picture my cousins when I blinked—
when they were eleven, of course, and pudgy-faced and happy when their
mom bought their attention. Walking up the concrete path, I clenched my
hands into tight fists as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The music
was loud, bracingly so, and I had to bang on the door to get any sound to
come back at me, let alone inside.
Pressing his palm against my back, Theo stole some of the tension
gripping my spine, and I rolled my lips between my teeth to gnaw hard. The
door swung open with no warning, and I stiffened as my uncle’s bright smile
filled my field of vision. It took him a moment to recognize me, and his smile
dimmed but didn’t disappear as I awkwardly held up my hand.
“Hi.” His bushy, greying brows rose at my greeting, and I cleared my
throat roughly. “I was in Springfield, and I was hoping we could talk, but if
you’re busy . . . ”
“Uh . . . n-no. Of course not.” Sputtering slightly, my uncle glanced over
his shoulder briefly before stepping to the side, and surprise prickled the
bridge of my nose. “Come on in. It’s funny you decided to come today—
Jack just got back from his deployment. You didn’t know he went into the
Army, did you?”
“No, I didn’t.” Stepping over the threshold, I blinked hard, and I gestured
to Theo as his hand slipped from my back. “Um . . . this is Theo, my . . . my
boyfriend.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jack. Senior, of course.” My uncle had a beer in
his right hand, and Theo automatically stuck out his mangled palm. Jack
grabbed it without thinking, and I held my breath as slight discomfort rippled
across his features. “Come on in. I never thought you’d come back here after
what happened, Illya. I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Me either, to be honest. I . . . I got a new job, and I went to my parents’
graves, so I figured, you know, since I was here . . . ” Shutting the door
behind us, my uncle nodded in understanding, and I silently wondered if he
was so . . . so mellow. “How have you been? It’s been a long time.”
“Ah, yeah, about that . . . it’s a story. Do you want a drink?
Congratulations on your job. What do you do?” People I didn’t recognized
filled the house— and a few people I did— and I nodded as we entered the
kitchen. Rounding the wall, I paused as a memory of my aunt sitting there,
with her purse and her mail spread out around her, gripped me. A soft touch
on my arm dragged me back. The reverie was a fraction of a second, and I
shook my head vigorously.
“It . . . it's just an office job. I work as a translator.” Straightening my
shoulders, I followed my uncle to the fridge, and he opened the door with
astounding ease. “What about you guys? Jack went into the Army?”
“Yeah, he just got back from his second deployment.” Nodding
awkwardly, I took the dark-bottled beer my uncle offered me as a sense of
surrealism swept through me, and he leaned on the counter to sigh heavily.
He scanned me slowly, through shrewd, narrowed eyes, and I held my breath
when he licked his lips in preparation. “You look good, Illya. I’m not gonna
lie, I always hoped you’d come back so I could apologize properly.”
“You look really great, too, Uncle Jack. I don’t know what I was
expecting, but . . . ” He smiled fondly, like he did when I was younger, and
my heart ached as my words failed me. Running my hand through my hair
absently, I glanced around the kitchen, but everything was the same. Jack
even wore the same brand of cargo shorts. The same spatula was sticking out
of the drain. “It’s weird.”
 “Well, not a lot has changed on the outside, except the kids. They’re all
grown up, now. So are you.” His eyes caught mine, soft, brown, and warm,
and my lip twitched in a frown. “Why’d you go to your family’s graves? You
don’t necessarily believe they’re listening, still, right?”
“Um . . . it’s been really hard these past few years, so I figured that
coming back would help me get some perspective. Plus, I had thought about
it in the past, but I never had the opportunity. I actually was living in southern
California these past couple years.” The admission earned me a hum, and my
uncle’s gaze shifted to Theo to fill with questions. Gesturing to him, the sense
of an almost out of body experience intensified, and I cleared my throat
heavily. “Theo actually helped me get the job. I start on Monday. It’s been a
really long time since I had a stable job, so maybe it’s freaking me out.”
“I bet. Your mom came over when she got approached by someone about
working for the government. Funnily enough, it was whenever Carol wasn’t
around . . . or, maybe not so funny.” My eyes widened at the fondness that
tenderized Jack’s expression and he twirled his beer in his hands, unopened
and forgotten. “I would have to listen to her go on and on and on about the
job over and over again. She never shut up until she decided she was out of
stuff to say, and then she’d just walk out. One time, she was here until two
a.m., almost.”
“I didn’t know that.” My dumb answer earned me a low chuckle, and my
uncle twisted to grab the bottle opener with memories dancing in his eyes.
“I’m not here to complain, Uncle Jack.”
“I wouldn’t mind it if you were, Illya. I . . . ” A soft knock interrupted
him, and I twisted as his gaze slipped past me to a middle-aged woman I
didn’t recognize. “Ah, Illya, this is my wife, Marley.”
She was pretty, with wrinkles in the right places, and her greys were just
the right shade. Smiling politely, she stepped into the kitchen, and I nodded
curtly as tightness tingled the smeared skin on my chest. Something cold
touched my arm, and I turned back to Jack as he held out the bottle opener for
me.
“Like I said, it’s a long story, but I think it’s about time you heard the
whole thing.” Leaning back, my uncle took a deep swing of his beer, and I
clenched my jaw hard as I tightened my grip on my bottle. “We were getting
divorced. Carol was always worried about bills because her lawyer was
consuming her money. I couldn’t stand her doing what she did to you, and
there were a lot of problems for a long time beforehand, but the deaths of
your family were what pushed me to take that step.”
“You said you didn’t know she was stealing?” Uncle Jack gave a guilty,
grim smirk and slight shrug, and I lifted my beer to my lips. I hated beer, but
even it couldn’t wash the sour taste from my tongue.
“I didn’t know the extent, but I knew the moment she took the property
managers to court that she’d waste it all and leave nothing for you. I wasn’t
in a position financially to stash money for you or I would’ve done that. We
tried to keep it up for the kids and for you, Illya, but when Carol started
remodeling the house, I knew you’d know that she was up to something. At
the time, it seemed like the less horrible option, for you to hate me instead of
hating yourself. I wasn’t expecting you to sue her for it, and I wasn’t
expecting her to commit suicide, but I was really proud of you for it at the
time.”
“I don’t hate you, Uncle Jack. I don’t even hate her. That’s just using
energy I don’t have.” Marley popped open the refrigerator out of the corner
of my eye, but I focused on my uncle as a sigh rattled my sternum. “It is what
it is, I guess. It took me a long time, but I’m on track, now.”
“After she died, I wanted to offer you your room back, but you’d
disappeared. I hired a private investigator, but you’re really good at blending
into crowds, always have been. Needless to say, things stabilized after a few
years. Jack was having a lot of problems in school, so he decided to go to a
reform camp on his own. He’s flourished. Grant is a senior now. He’s doing
well. I’d talked to them about divorce long before I actually did it, and I got
lucky they were starting to get to that age where they had contention with
Carol. Of course, her death hit them hard, but for what it is, if possible, I
believe in the right way.” Nodding in understanding, I licked my lips heavily
as my mind whirred furiously. Maybe, at the time, I’d just been so
disinterested in anyone but myself that I’d never noticed. Maybe, because it’d
been like that since I arrived, it was just normal to me. To be honest, the
‘why’ didn’t matter anymore, and I lifted my beer to my lips to neck the
contents before inhaling deeply.
Whatever concoction of words my mind was about to belch out was cut
off by a shout, and I twist as my heart leaped into my throat. Jack, in his full
Army garb, stood in the mouth to the kitchen, and the fine hairs on my arms
stood up. He wasn’t pudgy-faced anymore, even as shock reddened his
features. My mind raced— what did he know about me? He was young when
my parents died and I’d moved in.
 Jack started towards me, and I tensed when I realized he was going to
tackle me. My heart stuttered, and the anxiety in my gut spread to my
fingertips and toes.
But, in about the time it took to blink, Jack was on his back. There wasn’t
even the slightest thump against the tiles or faintest shudder of the floor. In
one fraction of a second, he was standing, and then, his knees were up against
his chest, and he was staring at the ceiling.
“Don’t touch her.” Standing over Jack menacingly, Theo frowned darkly,
and my cousin gasped stupidly as he caught up with events. My brows rose as
surprise dried my mouth when Theo stuck out his good hand, and he helped
Jack to his feet to pat his back hard. “Welcome back.”
35

Theo
“You were right— this is way too good to be true. Something bad is gonna
happen.” Grumbling in Illya’s ear, I tapped my feet on either side of the
outdoor lounge chair and glanced around the back yard. “I have a feeling
you’re spot-on, Illya. This is the calm before the storm. Just when
everything’s going perfect, it’s gonna fuck up.”
“I realize that. I’m just gonna enjoy this for now, though.” I grunted as I
scanned the backyard, full of people I didn’t know and didn’t care to know,
and Illya sighed as she hunched a little. “I didn’t expect things to go well at
all, let alone . . . ”
“You expected them to hate you for their mom committing suicide?”
Nodding slowly, she leaned back into my chest, and I rubbed her hip as my
gaze flickered around and around. “I guess it’s not unexpected, all things
considered. Do you want to leave?”
“Not really. Jack’s got a crush on you. It’s kinda cute.” Frowning at
Illya’s cheeky smirk, I sat back in the chair and propped my arm under my
head. Jack hadn’t seen a lot of action, that much was clear, but I didn’t think
he’d be so starstruck. “What?”
“I guess that just goes to show you why being a Marine is better than the
Army. Dude’s a baby. He’s only two years in. That’s a lifetime.” I could
remember my first deployment like it was yesterday— a lot of fucking sand,
a lot of downtime, and a lot of training. Now that we weren’t actively warring
with the bad guys, kids in the military had it easy. Firefights were simple
things, after all, and being in one didn’t make Jack a badass. “He’s a good
kid, though.”
“I bet he’s gonna come over and ask you to show him some moves.”
Rolling my eyes at that, I only shook my head, and Illya giggled a little as she
twisted to face me. She looked good— fresh and glowy and happy, that
happy of a person experiencing something unexpected. “Would you show
him something if he asked?”
“I’d have permission to beat the fuck out of him, why would I turn that
down?” She laughed again, and I savored the sound as it twinkled against my
eardrums. Licking my teeth, I glanced over at Jack to find him mustering up
the courage to approach me, and I hoisted myself up with a grunt.
Truth be told, I just wanted Illya to experience all the greatness that she
could while she was here. Jack sized me up, and I could practically smell the
tension thrumming through him under his uniform. Not gonna lie— seeing
that hurt. I hadn’t put on my dress in ages, and I wasn’t even sure where they
were at this point.
“Wanna get punched?” Jack obviously didn’t expect my straightforward
question, and I couldn’t help but smirk when his brows rose in surprise. His
face flushed, and he handed his beer to his friend as I rocked back on my
heels.
“How long were you in for?”
“I’d still be in if I didn’t get my fingers blown off.” Holding up my hand,
which I knew he’d noticed a long time ago. I shrugged lightly, and Jack
shuffled in discomfort. “It’ll happen to you eventually, thoughmaybe not
physically. The ones with missing limbs are the lucky ones.”
“I’ve heard. Once I do my four years, I’m just going into college.”
Nodding absently, I scanned this kid from top to bottom, and he straightened
a little and clicked his heels. “You look like you’d do well in a fight.”
“Are you gonna try to find out?” I took a moment to think on that before
shaking my head. My hand-to-hand combat skills were shit now. Jack looked
a little disappointed, and I exhaled a big breath as I watched him deflate
noticeably. “So, why’d you come over here?”
“To make Illya feel good.” Glancing over my shoulder, I reached to rub
my head and neck as Jack smiled faintly out of my peripheral. I really didn’t
have anything to say to him, but I knew Illya would appreciate the effort. She
seemed different in this atmosphere.
But it wasn’t going to last. She came here for closure before her life took
an irreversible sharp left. That was all.
“I consider myself lucky to get dropped like that.” Grinning at that, I
turned my attention back to Jack, and he tinged red up to his ears. “I’m glad
we’re not on different teams.”
“You should be.” The ominous threat in my tone made me chuckle, and I
shook my head a little at how fundamentally Jack understood the differences
in our abilities. “I’d kill you before you even realized you were gonna die.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” The conversation stalled, and I didn’t try to
revive it before heading back to Illya. The sun shone brightly off her hair and
illuminated her whole face, and I sat back down behind her. I should
probably savor the atmosphere, too.
It didn’t escape me that everything was going a little too well lately. Just
like Illya, I’d been feeling apprehensive about her starting work, but like fuck
I was gonna say that to her.
Today had been such shit. I woke up to an argument, got dragged up the
coast, and now I was at a party full of people I didn’t know. If that wasn’t bad
enough, I felt like this whole trip was a waste in some ways. I was honestly
hoping that Carlyle would call me back so I had an excuse to go home.
Just as the disgruntled thought slithered through my mind, my phone
began to vibrate, and I fished the thing out of my pocket. Speak of the devil.
“What?” Leaning back, I held the speaker to my ear, and Carlyle’s frown
radiated against my cheek before he’d even said anything.
“Get back. I need Illya.” Reaching to tap on her shoulder, I pointed
shamelessly at her uncle, and Illya frowned under tightly knit brows. “And
don’t take forever. Something just came in, she’ll be up all night.”
“Yeah.” Hanging up before I muttered the confirmation, Carlyle left the
line dead, and my cheek twitched in irritation as I stood up again. Illya
followed suit, and I’d guess she heard that last part as she sauntered off
towards her uncle. Rubbing my face in agitation, I heaved a massive sigh.
“The calm before the storm.”
We’d been here about an hour— an hour too long, in my opinion— and I
hoped Illya got the answers or enlightenment she was searching for. I sure as
she wasn’t going to jump through hoops to come back, and I watched her hug
her uncle with a smile cresting her cheeks.
“What did Carlyle want?” Only posing her question once we were out in
the street, Illya cast me a questioning glance as I pulled my keys out of my
pocket. “Do you want me to drive?”
“You don’t have a license yet.” Even as I grumbled, an ache shot up my
right arm, and I tossed her my keys. She caught them easily, nodding curtly,
and I rounded the back of the car before speaking up again. “Don’t get us
pulled over. I don’t know what Carlyle wants, but it involves you, so it must
be something involving whatever internal drama he mentioned at the club.”
“That seemed like a long time ago.” A strange sensation filled me as I
climbed into the passenger seat of my own car, and Illya stuck the keys into
the ignition before adjusting the seat. “When I was a teenager, me and my
friends used to go on joyrides and stuff. It’s fine. I won’t get caught.”
 “Don’t kill me, okay, that’s all I’m asking.” I sunk in the seat a little as
she adjusted the mirror, and the car roared to life.
And I saw my fucking shit life flash before my eyes when she grinned at
me from over the center console.
36

Illya
“Theo! Theo, come on, it wasn’t that bad!” Grabbing his hand to stop him
storming into the complex, I couldn’t help but frown at how utterly freaked
out Theo was even as he shot me a nasty glance over his broad shoulder.
“You didn’t die. That’s all you asked, remember?”
“You are never driving again!” Jerking his hand from mine, he practically
spit in my face, and I tensed when his eyelid twitched as it came close to
mine, so close I could count his lashes. “Don’t you fucking pull that shit
around on me. You shortened a four-hour drive to one and a half!”
“W-well, yeah. Carlyle said not to take forever, and I knew driving hurts
your arm.” Sputtering a little in the full face of Theo’s rage, I tried to take a
step back, but he followed, and I gasped when he grabbed my biceps. His
short, sharp nails dug into my skin, and his eyes flashed as they narrowed
into slits. “That hurts.”
“It’s a fucking miracle we made it back. Never ever again!” Hissing at
me, Theo’s spittle splattered on my chin, and my heart stuttered when he
shook me. “You understand!”
“I . . . I understand.” Releasing me with a slight shove to jerk the door
open, Theo left me in the parking lot, and I exhaled a shaky, thin breath.
Glancing down at my arm, the deep crescents of his fingernails were
prominent, a white half-moon in a sea of reddening flesh. My gaze followed a
white line on the pavement, up the brick wall, and the courtyard that served
as a parking lot enclosed by it. A bridge connected two buildings, technically,
one for living and one for working.
“Oh.” Hanging my head as I reached to cup my biceps, I frowned at the
asphalt, and my face grew hot as my skin stung where Theo’d grabbed me.
“It’s not like he told me to slow down.”
That was just an excuse, and not a very good one. Maybe, driving one
hundred ten wasn’t the best idea, but I wanted to get back as fast as possible.
Carlyle didn’t sound happy from what snippets I’d caught, and . . .
“Everything alright out here?” Slithering out the door like a snake,
Carlyle frowned down at me, and I huffed as I crouched down on the balls of
my feet. “I take it all’s not paradise on the island, huh?”
“He doesn’t like how fast I drove.” When I moved my lips, I could taste
him, and Carlyle hummed softly in acknowledgment. An ugly blotch spread
across my chest, and I sat back on the hot concrete with a grunt. “What’s
going on that you wanted us back?”
“I wanted you back, Illya. Theo’s off today, all day. Anyway, we’ve got
some shit to talk about. I guess out here’s not a bad place. It’s probably not
bugged, at least.” Leaning against the wall to slide down, Carlyle pulled a
pack of cigarettes out of his dress pants, and I took the one he offered me. He
sparked up, wordlessly passing me the lighter, and I took a huge drag trying
to fill the gaping hole that’d opened up inside me. “So, someone is two-
timing me, and your job as of right now is to find out who.”
“That’s some useful information, there, Carlyle.” Running my hands
through my hair, I suddenly wished I’d spent a little more time with Carlyle
instead of being lazy as all Hell. “How many languages do you speak?”
“English, Spanish, and German. I can understand Mandarin enough to get
the gist of a conversation, but I always have a translator just in case.” I ran
my hand through my hair, my lips clamping down on the cigarette butt, and
the toxic fumes filled my lungs but didn’t leak out. “There’s no bugs
anywhere. My tech experts are good. I cycle out my aides, so no one stays as
long as this has been going on.”
“Why would you assume it’s someone here and not whoever you’re doing
business with? You’ve already considered it, right?” Carlyle nodded, and I
flopped my head back to exhale loud and heavy. My mind whirred slowly,
dragged down by images of Theo when I blinked, and I scrunched up my
nose in distaste. “How often do you swap out your cleaning ladies? The same
chick has come by my place twice a week since I got here.”
“I’ve never swapped them out. There’s a reason these buildings are
connected— work stays at work.” Tilting my head down, my question
must’ve blazed from my eyes, and Carlyle’s brows knit tightly. “Unless
someone decided they were too good for the rules. It’s not like I have a guard
or something personally check everyone going through the bridge.”
“You should conduct a raid, or trick some stupid assholes into think it’d
be a good idea.” Sucking on the butt of my cigarette, I shrugged at Carlyle’s
quizzical expression. “When I was homeless, the police would raid the
shelters every couple months for people hiding out there after committing
crimes. I’ve been arrested a few times because of it because of Sylvie back
when she would steal for drug money. Back then, they’d wait until the
shelters all filled up, and then they’d hit them at the same time.”
“I find it hard to believe that the police had that much manpower.”
Skepticism and intrigue infected his tone, and I shrugged as I exhaled my
lungful through my nose.
“Two cops show up at the shelter, and any homeless person knows they
got nothing to do with it, we stay down. Normal people see the cops, assume
they already know what they did, and try to bolt.” Carlyle grunted in
acknowledgment of my point, and I sniffed hard as I stared at the white line
on the concrete. “If you don’t know how, then you just have to find out. And
not be suspicious about it.”
“Right . . . and how do you suggest that, Illya?”
“Fake a raid.” Carlyle barked a shocked laugh, but I was deadly serious,
and my lips thinned around my smoke. “I’m serious. You obviously have
access to the people that can pull it off. The issue isn’t even the believability
of the raid after it started— it’s getting everyone together without arousing
suspicion that something’s wrong. Obviously, you don’t want to put your
people through that if the dude doesn’t even show up. That’d be an answer in
itself, though, I guess.”
“I’ll consider it. Before we resort to such a drastic measure, I want you to
listen to all the conversations I’ve been having and the threats I’ve been
receiving. I’ve had them sent to your apartment.” Nodding listlessly, I rested
my chin on my knees as my mind wandered and became far, and the line
began to blur on the asphalt. “Illya, are you sure you’re alright?”
“Do you ever feel really far away from someone even though they’re
right next to you?” My gaze flickered up, and Carlyle’s expression tightened
and walled up like the brick stretching sixty feet above us on all sides. Taking
a drag of his own cigarette, he held his breath for a long second, and I tilted
my head to rest my cheek on my knees. “I don’t know what it is. I can’t
figure out what about me is so . . . so small and I don’t get why this is
happening. We had a fight this morning about sex. I don’t even want to have
sex with him, really. I just want to be close to him, but he keeps pushing me
away.”
“Is it about your chest?” His voice was surprisingly soft and tender, and I
nodded as much as I could at that angle before he sighed heavily. “You can’t
hide behind those bandages forever, Illya. I don’t blame Theo for wanting
you to take them off, but you can’t really be upset because he’s mad you
won’t. If you can’t have all of a person, there’s no point in having any part of
them. Despite what people try to say . . . ”
“Why did you give me these two months off?” My question must’ve been
what he expected this time, and Carlyle crouched down in front of me. His
cigarette hung out of his mouth, and he looked really, really . . . kindhearted.
Plopping his palm on my head, he snatched his smoke with his free hand
before offering me the tiniest, brokenhearted smile I never thought I’d see on
him.
“You remind me a lot of my sister right before she killed herself. Lost,
listless, unable to do anything because you’re so out of touch with yourself.
It’s not the same, I know. She was lost because our dad raised her to not be
anything, not care about anything, not do anything for herself. The opposite is
just as true, Illya. You care too much, you are too much, you do too much.”
My eyes widened as surprise rocketed through me, and Carlyle chuffed softly
before standing up and fixing the crack in his demeanor. His expression
closed like an iron shutter, and I stood on stiff legs before he spoke up again.
“Fix whatever is going on between you two. I need all your focus on this, and
I need the man guarding my body not to be distracted. If you need more
incentive than your own . . . I’ll kill you, Illya, because I won’t tolerate drama
interfering with the job.”
A dense lump formed in my throat, and I nodded before Carlyle flicked
his cigarette before opening the door for me.
37

Illya
Anxiety curdled my blood into a thick sludge at the knock that sounded
through my apartment, and I winced when I stood up and my shirt brushed
against my scars. It’d been so long since I’d walked around without
bandages, and my hands curled into tight fists by my sides. Shuffling heavily
to the hallway, I paused in front of the door, and I could practically smell
Theo from the other side.
I wondered what Carlyle threatened him with— if he threatened Theo at
all— and what it meant if he didn’t. Was I really just being a self-conscious
bitch? For reasons I couldn’t properly mouth, I went back and forth, but Theo
was always saying the same things.
Take off my bandages.
Grabbing the knob, the cold metal burned my palm, and I inhaled
mightily through my nose before pulling open the barrier. Theo propped on
the frame, his arm over his head, and he gazed down at me through intense,
narrowed eyes. Goosebumps washed down my arms, and a cold sweat broke
out on my back as the silence stretched.
“I came to apologize for grabbing you.” Now that I’d had a moment to
think, I realized maybe Theo wasn’t upset about my going so fast as he was
trying to seem. Maybe, he was mad about something else.
So many ‘maybes’ and not many concrete answers when I could just ask
him.
“You were right— I don’t trust you even though I should.” My mouth
dried at my own confession, and I leaned on the wall to duck my head. “It
was easy back before because I could disappear if things went south. I could
run away if I got scared.”
“You were right, too, you know.” The gruff reply sent a spasm down my
chest, and I glanced up from under my lashes as Theo frowned grimly. “I’ve
wanted to fuck you since the second I saw you, Illya. Just because I found out
you’re so much more— and I want it all— doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to
go back on my word.”
“Do you wanna come in?” He nodded curtly, and I lowered my arm from
the door to gesture Theo through. My heart thundered harder and harder
when he kicked the barrier shut, and powerful arms braced on either side of
my head. The wall seemed so cold against my back compared to his heat, and
his eyes didn’t leave mine for a fraction of a second. Unfurling my stiff
fingers, I touched my trembling palms to his sharply defined abdomen under
his t-shirt, and he clenched and released his jaw with a muted click.
“I’ve tried so hard not to fuck this up that I stopped being the person I
was before I met you.” The lump in my throat became dense at Theo’s
grumble, and I nodded dumbly in agreement. His abdominal muscles strained
under his taut, thick skin, and my fingertip traced the fading edges of the scar
that ripped up his side. “Let’s start over. Like the past eight weeks didn’t
happen— the bad parts, at least.”
“I’d like that.” My murmur rasped through my chapped lips, and Theo’s
skin twitched under my palms as his closeness set fire rampaging through my
veins. We weren’t touching in any way but my hands against his abs, my
fingers running through his happy trail, but I had never felt more infused with
him. His dark eyes blazed, and he slowly reached to caress my cheek. Desire
skittered down my neck, and I sucked in a sharp breath when he trailed the
back of his finger down towards my sternum.
Something, somewhere in the dark, dank recesses of my mind, snapped as
Theo’s fingers skirted the burn on my chest. His nose brushed mine, his
features becoming skewed from his close he was, and my ribs threatened to
concave as he exhaled hotly. My fingers slipped under the waistline of his
jeans, and his curled around the high neckline of my tank top.
It happened slowly, too slowly, and I couldn’t breathe with Theo’s lips
hovering just a fraction of a centimeter from mine. Reaching down, I pumped
his hard, silky smooth cock— once— twice— and prickles raced up my spine
when his shoulders shuddered in my peripheral vision. Each vein pulsed
under my touch, his hardness unrelenting even when I squeezed, and he
thrust into my palms with a sputtering breath.
But his eyes never wavered even as he fisted my t-shirt in both his palms
and yanked. Heat from his body surged up my chest when the thin fabric gave
way, and I managed a shallow gasp before he captured my parted lips in a
searing kiss. My eyes boggled from the shock of his tongue dancing against
mine, and I pulled my hands from his jeans to unfasten my own. The tinkling
of buttons popping and zippers pulling rose in my ears above my racing
heart, and his belt clattered loudly when he dropped his pants.
 Theo tasted so good, so manly, so musky, and saliva pooled under my
tongue as he cupped the back of my head to intensify the kiss. His little
grunts reverberated through me, and I palmed his cock as he hooked his right
arm under my leg to hoist it up. My core ached fiercely, need throbbing
through me as I pumped his cock, and my folds spread as my desperation
leaked out of me.
“Illya . . . ”
“Th-Theo . . . ” Swiping the bulbous head of his cock against my
entrance, I sputtered a gasp as Theo nibbled my bottom lip. The intensity of
the moment swept me away, and he hissed against my chin as hot, harsh
pants ripped from my chest. Thrusting his length along my slit, he groaned
into my mouth, and the passion behind his kiss tore me apart. Poising his
head, I clamped down before he even entered my channel, and he tangled his
tongue around mine.
Theo’s thick cock forced all the way in until his balls slapped my ass and
his hips dug into my thighs and I saw stars. Stretching my walls as they
undulated wildly in euphoria strangely muffled, his cock pulsed noticeably,
and his groan clogged my throat. His fist slammed against the wall, his hard
chest rippling against mine as he inhaled sharply, and my eyes rolled back in
their sockets.
This wasn’t pleasure. There was nothing but white behind my fluttering
lids, and I gasped when Theo pulled back. The ridges and veins of his cock
caressed my walls, and he sucked the stale air from my lungs. His t-shirt
brushed my front ever so gently, but I was drowning in the rapture only
intensified by the sting.
“Fuck . . . ” Theo’s thunderous growl rattled my bones, and he hoisted my
legs around his waist and grabbed my hips with bruising fingers. Tearing his
mouth from mine, he leaned back and stuttered a gasp of his own, and I
scratched at the wall in an effort to hold on to something. His gaze bored
holes into my face as pleasure dropped my jaw, and he pushed my hips down
and thrust up in a brutal snap.
Tensing as a tsunami pulled back my ability to feel anything but where he
touched me, I hiccupped a breath as Theo’s cock gyrated against my walls.
The clap of skin on skin echoed in my ears, and my eyes nearly popped from
their sockets.
“Jesus fucking Christ . . . Illya . . . ” My eyelids snapped open at the
choked call, and I ground my teeth hard at the pure ecstasy playing on Theo’s
face. This was so long in coming, so anticipated, and I clamped down on him
as pleasure rolled up my spine. My knees clung to his sides, and he flopped
his head back as he pulled back to show off the muscles straining in his neck.
The thick ridge of his cock caressed my inner walls surprisingly gently as
he pulled back, and Theo ducked his head to capture my lips in a hot kiss.
Powerful hands grappled my ass cheeks, and I choked from the jolt of rapture
when he stepped out of his jeans to walk to the sofa.
“I’m gonna die with you, Illya.” Sitting down, Theo buried his left hand
in my hair as the other fell to the side uselessly, and I didn’t resist when he
tugged gently. His eyes were black with desire, and they didn’t stray from
mine as they shimmered with conviction. “I’m gonna die with you.”
“I wish I could hug you.” His pupils blew at my murmur, and Theo
finally tore his eyes from mine. He turned beet red, like a cartoon, from his
shirt neckline up, and I stiffened as expectation gripped me. Leaning back a
little, I flexed my fingers, but it didn’t really help the fear that rose up to
shadow my thoughts.
Theo blinked hard, his face an unreadable mix of emotion, but it didn’t
really matter when his cock went flaccid inside me. His cheek twitched, and
icy prickles swept down my sternum as he covered his mouth with his right
hand. Shivers rippled up his arms noticeably, and he went even more red in
the face before his eyes met mine for the briefest of seconds.
“J-just looking at it.” He craned his neck in what my sluggish brain
recognized at embarrassment, and my eyes widened in shock. Clearing his
throat roughly, Theo rolled his jaw and jerked his shoulders, but he couldn’t
get rid of the red in his cheeks. “You’re so beautiful, Illya.”
“D-do . . . did . . . ” Sputtering stupidly, my jaw dropped when Theo flung
his arm over his face, and my brain short-circuited. He hoovered up a shallow
breath, and my brows rose when he lowered his arm to meet my gaze with
voraciousness. “Do . . . do you need . . . to . . . stop?”
“No. Turn around.” Theo grumbled illegibly, and I pursed my lips thinly
as I carefully stood up. He pumped his cock, and affection blossomed in my
chest before he grabbed my hip and sat me on his lap. “Dance.”
38

Theo
“Shit . . . choke it down, Illya.” I groaned in absolute bliss as Illya’s throat
flexed around my cock, and she grabbed my ass to force me deeper. The
bulge in her throat was mesmerizing as she hung her head over the side of the
sofa, and I growled when she kneaded her hands greedily. Pulling out of her
mouth with a gasp, I relished her rasping breaths, and I pumped my cock as
she slobbered my balls with hungry, little sounds. “Yes-s-s . . . ”
“Theo . . . ” Her hoarse call bristled through my curls, and Illya slid down
to lay flat on the sofa and spread her legs for me. My need for her raged in an
inferno that would never die down, and I rounded the armrest to palm her
creamy, sticky thighs. Everything I’d been yearning for in my woman came
rushing to the surface, and her tight pussy undulated. Cum leaked down her
ass cheeks, and I almost wanted to take a picture, it was such a gorgeous
fucking sight.
But, truth be told, it was the thing she’d tried to hide that turned me on
more intensely than I thought was possible. Illya was basically flat-chested
from scar tissue. The only part of her breasts she had were the sides, and with
her slender profile, she could hide it. What was left of the once large, firm
globes folded over her scar tissue a little, and with the bandages, no one
could tell.
“Theo . . . ” Tearing my eyes off the huge, rectangular blotch of red and
purple and pale, I nestled between Illya’s open legs as she wrapped her
trembling hands around my jaw. Her mossy green eyes glowed, almost
blindingly bright, and my heart threatened to burst from behind my ribs as I
ground against her slippery folds. Capturing her lips in a heated kiss, I
groaned as the burn lines on her thighs ruffled my leg hairs.
“You ready for me, you fucking sexy bitch?” Pressing my forehead
against hers, I reached my good hand between us, and a sharp, prickly ache
shot down my right side. Cracking open my eyes, memories floated in my
glazed, blurry vision. At the club, when I’d grabbed Illya’s chest, I knew now
why it hurt so much.
Just the tiniest bit of pressure, and the whole fucking mass of tissue
shifted. That was agonizing . . . agonizingly hot.
“Yes . . . ” Sinking into her glorious heat at her breathless affirmation, I
shuddered violently as Illya writhed in pleasure beneath me. She gasped, her
slender brows furrowing, mouth open, but she was so damn quiet as her walls
hugged my cock so nice. Grinding my hips against hers, I clenched my jaw as
tingles assaulted my tailbone.
“Shit . . . ” Pulling back, I rammed Illya’s cervix with a snap of my hips,
and she mewled softly as she threw her head to the side. Her nails scraped my
stubble, and I set a hard pace as my balls tightened. She was such a good
fucking lay, and I teetered on the edge as I thrust viciously. Ducking my head
to smash my mouth on hers, I savored her taste, and she melted under me in
unwavering submission.
Her throat couldn’t compare to her pussy, and pressure tightened my
abdominal muscles as her walls rippled and shivered around my cock.
“Fucking cum . . . fuck . . . cum on my cock, Illya . . . t-tight . . . ” I
couldn’t last, and I sputtered stupidly through clenched teeth as I sucked in a
breath through my nose. Sweat dripped down my arms and neck, and I thrust
hard with a grunt as my balls drew up. Hot ropes of cum spurted up my shaft,
and spasms attacked my muscles as stars burst behind my shuttered lids.
“Oh fuck, yes-s-s . . . ” Every ounce of energy I had left kept me from just
collapsing on Illya, and I gripped the armrest with clammy, trembling hands.
Despite dying down, the waves of euphoria— the almost religious fever of
finally obtaining a goddess of my very own— ripped up my sternum, and icy
prickles followed. Soft palms caressed up my chest, and I somehow managed
to open my eyes to find her smiling at me.
A divine gift.
“You’re so beautiful, Illya.” Her smile widened, the redness in her cheeks
darkening I ducked to kiss her with a low, pleased groan. “How could you be
anything less?”
“You’re probably the only one in the world that thinks having no nipples
is sexy, Theo.” Pushing myself heavily back on my knees, I grabbed her arms
— gently, this time— to pull Illya with me. She seemed so easy now, and I
sprawled on my back to let her settle against my chest. Her sweat-slickened
skin stuck to mine, and I glanced down the ruined plane of her chest with a
stirring ache in my abdomen.
True, she didn’t have nipples, but that was fine. Her scars were sexier,
anyway.
 Cupping Illya’s face with my bad hand, I stroked her cheek with my
thumb, and I reached to swipe the television controller from the coffee table.
Her weight was comfortable against me, and I buried my nose in her hair to
take deep breaths of her.
“Tomorrow is gonna be different, Theo.” The murmur twinkled with a
promise in my ears, and I grumbled lowly in response when my tongue stuck
to the roof of my mouth. “I’m gonna try to be better.”
“I know you can, Illya. Nothing worth doing is effortless.” Just as the
television blinked on, a soft beep echoed from the hallway to the front door,
and Illya tensed against me. Tightening my grip on her face, I held her where
she was, and her jaw worked under my palm. Carlyle appeared around the
corner, hand covering his eyes like he didn’t want to catch his sister naked or
something, and I snorted roughly.
“Put a blanket on or something, please.” Illya was only too happy to
oblige, grabbing the throw that hung over the back of the sofa, and I frowned
against her crown. “I have guests coming on Tuesday, and both of you need
to be there. This affects them, too, so I want you to hear everything everyone
has to say about this whole mess.”
“I’m decent.” Well, not really, considering the cum dripping down your
hair. Carlyle still lowered his hand, seemingly unaffected by Illya’s red,
blotchy face and obvious roughed-up-ness, and he nodded firmly. “Who are
they?”
“My father and brother.” Surprise rocketed through me, and Illya shot up
with a squeak before I could even process Carlyle’s declaration. “They’ll be
here in about thirty-seven hours. You have that long to go through
everything.”
“You have another brother?” Carlyle grunted, and I inhaled a calming
breath as my mind whirred furiously, trying to keep up with the conversation.
“Well, that’s just great, isn’t it? I thought this was a personal problem. It’s
not? You should’ve told me that earlier. I— ”
“I wanted to see what you’d suggest before mentioning it. I know what
you’re thinking, why would I need you if this is a huge, company-wide thing?
The answer to that is simple, Illya. You’re unaffiliated and can look at
everything with fresh eyes. Also, you have experience in the dirt that I
thought would be helpful.” The skin on Illya’s back rippled, and I covered the
spot with my palm to feel her lungs shudder in a huff. “Not to mention, it’s
all happening to all three of us at the same time. We need someone outside
the situation for clarity, but also because we can’t trust our own people,
apparently.”
“You trust me, though.” The accusation earned Illya a scowl, and I
rubbed the smooth, porous skin on her back with my right hand. I could feel
the fine hairs that she didn’t have on her chest, and the muscles rippled so
regularly, without the bumpy clumps of scar tissue above them.
“Don’t make me regret it.” Carlyle turned on his heel, and Illya sat
straight until the door lock clicked into place before flopping back against
me. Her groan of frustration shot straight to my cock, and I reached over her
thigh to circle her clit. She threw the blanket off her in a fury, her knees
bending high, and grumbling as hunger gnawed at my gut.
“How long do you think it’ll take you to get through everything he piled
up in your kitchen?” Dripping with cum from the both of us, Illya’s hot cunt
flexed as I eased inside, and she gasped softly. When she came, she didn’t
make any sounds. She barely made any sounds anyway, but I thought it was
cute. Leisurely curling my finger against her quivering walls, I thrust my hard
cock between her ass cheeks. “I wanna keep going.”
“A couple hours, at least five.” Smirking broadly against her cheek, I
sucked in a sharp breath when Illya rolled her hips eagerly.
39

Illya
“You need to get down here. Now.” Carlyle didn’t respond, simply hanging
up at the graveness that roughened my tone, and I sat back in the kitchen
chair to sigh heavily as I set down my phone. “Do you think I can talk to you
about this shit?”
“Who cares. What’s up?” Standing over the stove, lording over sizzling
bacon and eggs, Theo twisted to frown at my under furrowed brows. “Did
you really have to call Carlyle down here? He always ruins the mood.”
For a second, I debated what to say and waved my sheath of papers
around absently. I’d gone through about half of the boxes of translations and
hard transcripts, and I nodded at Theo’s second question.
“These are all wrong, Theo. How come no one saw this? The translations
are off. There’s no way these mistakes should happen.” Scanning the page, I
held my forehead on my palm, and Theo grunted softly as he turned back to
the stove. “I don’t get what’s going on. No one with a grasp of the language
would make these mistakes . . . unless they were deliberate. These aren’t
regional dialect mistakes. They’re just . . . mistake mistakes. Slight ones, but
obvious. To me, at least.”
“Well, you’ve never met these guys. Maybe they’ve got their quirks.”
Maybe, but no. That objection was reasonable to a point, but it didn’t account
for the blatant mistranslations of simple words in simple context. My mind
churned, and I flipped over to the next page before a shrill beep echoed out
from the front door. Carlyle was leaning over my shoulder within a second,
and I didn’t hear the door shut, but that didn’t matter.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I licked my suddenly dry
lips with a thick tongue before parting them.
“These conversations are all translated by different people, right?”
Reaching to grab the sheet of paper I’d been scribbling on as Carlyle nodded
curtly, I held it up for him. “I wrote down all the wrong translations, and this
is what I found.”
“What is it?” To be honest, I didn’t expect to find anything so incredibly
brazen in these records, and I twisted as Carlyle rocked back on his heels.
“These are just mistakes made in translation. It happens all the time.”
“Read every third, first, and second word, in that order.” Now, this was
the troubling part, and I held my breath as Carlyle’s expression tightened
with irritation. His eyes narrowed before snapping to mine, and my heart
stuttered under the force of his glare. “It’s a code. The people doing your
translations are working together through the transcripts. They all have access
to it, right? From anywhere they’re called to work.”
Carlyle’s light eyes flashed almost reptilian as he reset them against the
page, and he cupped his chin even as his foot tapped rapidly. After I started
cataloging the mistranslations, it became obvious that the people doing the
translating were trying to do some clandestine bullshit. Who mispronounces
the word ‘money’ in any language?
Especially considering that they were working for Carlyle’s family, they
had to be good.
“This is all you’ve found so far?” I nodded mutely, and he tapped his
cheek as he turned the paper over, his eyes bouncing from word to word in
rhythm. “How many transcripts have you gone through?”
“A little less than half, but I have a feeling that your father’s and brother’s
records contain a majority of the conversations. There’s definitely not enough
here, and you speak Spanish fluently, which cuts out your need for a
translator for most of your business.” Even though it’d been months, I had no
knowledge of what that ‘business’ actually was, although I assumed it was
illegal. Nodding with a troubled crease between his brow, Carlyle turned the
paper to the front to read it again. “I suppose it doesn’t matter what they say
— this is enough to do something about the translators that are doing this.”
“It is. I didn’t expect this. It’s actually pretty sophisticated. Now . . . ”
Carlyle palmed my crown thoughtfully, and heat crept up my neck when he
started stroking my hair. His hand was warm and hard, and I watched him
stare into space for a long moment before speaking up again. “What to do? I
hadn’t planned on you figuring this problem out so quickly, Illya.”
Pride thickened his tone, and my face flamed as Carlyle’s gaze flickered
to mine ever so briefly. Despite what he’d done to Mateo, I found it hard to
believe he had such a soft spot for me. The genuinity in his eyes said
differently, though, and I blushed fiercely as my scarred chest tightened.
“Wait a minute. ” Turning to Theo, momentarily forgotten by the stove,
my face flamed at the amusement that glimmer in his dark orbs as they
trained on me. “What do you mean ‘what to do’? Isn’t it obvious? Fucking
shoot them and get it over with.”
“That’s boring.” Carlyle scratched my scalp even as he shot down the
idea, and Theo grimaced darkly. “I have something much, much more
satisfying in mind. Although I’m sure you’ll enjoy it just as much, Theo.
Speaking of satisfying, have either of you heard the maids talking about
Mateo today?”
“He’s all they ever talk about since word got around that your father’s
coming. They’re placing bets about what’ll happen.” Speaking up as Theo
busied himself flipping the bacon, I scrunched up my face in distaste as
Carlyle’s fingers flexed against my crown. “I feel kinda bad for him, but . . . ”
“Don’t. He’s been locked in there for weeks because of his own
inadequacy. As usual.” Taking his hand off my head, Carlyle pulled a chair
out and twirled it around to straddle the back with a heavy sigh. “Illya, you’ll
need to finish this another time. As you said, the rest doesn’t matter. This is
more than enough to implicate, which is more than enough for me. I’ll inform
my father and brother about sending me their records, but it’ll be a while
before we can set something up to deal with this. So, for now, I have another
job for you. I was going to wait, but seeing as you’re truly exceptional . . . ”
“You lay it on thick for a dude who thinks I’m disgusting.” My
cheekiness earned me a smirk, but it didn’t last before Carlyle shook his
head. “What’s the job?”
“Technically, it’s a job for you both.” Gesturing to Theo, his eyes didn’t
leave me, and my brows rose in surprise. “I’ve told you why you’re here.
You’re going to infiltrate a party hosted by the Italian Mafia and drug
someone for me.”
“Infiltrate?” Nodding firmly, Carlyle gripped the low back of the chair to
lean away from it, and I gulped down the dense lump that formed in my
throat. “I mean, okay. What does that entail, exactly?”
“I’ll give you the details after my dad and Oran leave. It’s not for another
few weeks, but it’ll probably happen before we can set up the translators.
You said it before, we can’t arouse suspicion. The next planned function
between us all that requires all the translators is around Christmas. I thought
you’d appreciate a heads up.” Gnawing on my inner cheek, I only nodded at
that, and Carlyle tapped the flat top run of the chair. I could see the cogs
working in his eyes, and he cocked his head back a little. “Make yourselves
presentable. We’ll talk more during lunch.”
“Righto.” Tapping two fingers to my temple, I couldn’t help but smile
when Carlyle chuckled before standing up and pushing the chair back in.
“What should I wear?”
“Whatever makes you comfortable.” Leaving me with that, Carlyle
sauntered out of the kitchen and then my apartment, and I reached to ruffle
my hair as my mind raced. To me, it was so easy to spot, such a simple
concept to use a code in plain sight. No one double-checked this stuff but the
translators themselves, so no one faulted someone for making an occasional
mistake days and weeks apart, especially if they didn’t know it was a
mistake.
“I wonder if anyone caught on outside of this?” Throwing my question
out there, I grabbed a short stack to flip through it, and Theo grunted from
over the stove. “These translators are pretty much cycled around depending
on where they’re needed, so they have conversations with the same people.
Do you think any of them noticed the slip-ups?”
“How would I know? I only speak English.” My lips twitched up at that,
and Theo shook his head before gesturing to me from over his shoulder.
“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter to me. All I’m good for is being a meat
shield, and I’m okay with that.”
Watching the muscles roping just under his tanned skin play along his
back, I propped my cheek on my fist on the table. I hadn’t gotten a chance to
ask whether or not Theo had been threatened by Carlyle, but I got the sense
that he hadn’t. Which meant he came and apologized on his own.
I wished I could say the same, but Theo would never have to know that it
wasn’t my choice to take off my bandages. Everything turned out fine. I was
fine.
And I had the sneaking suspicion that things would only get better from
here, regardless of how crazy ‘work’ would get. We— us— Theo and I, we
would be good together.
40

Illya
Adjusting my curled hair over my shoulders, I nodded at my reflection, and
dull, brown eyes gazed back at me. Feminine pride bubbled up in my chest at
how different I’d managed to make myself look now that I had proper
products. Lightening my hair had been easy, and I flexed my toes against the
carpet as I stood up with a happy huff.
“Do you want help with your bandages?” Pursing my lips thinly at the
offer, I pulled open a drawer that contained nothing but rows and rows of
medical-grade bandages.
“Uh . . . I’m not sure what I’m gonna do, yet, so . . . ” Arching a brow
quizzically, Theo leaned back on the lounge leisurely. He didn’t seem
offended, and I kicked the dresser drawer shut as I scratched my head
thoughtfully. “I guess it doesn’t really matter.”
“Okay?” I didn’t bother elaborating as I held the end of the roll to my hip,
and my brows furrowed in concentration. “I hate watching this.”
My heart throbbing at his grumble, and I turned to Theo as the most
unhappy grimace stained his expression. The scar ripping down the side of
his face flushed an angry red, and his lips thinned when I sat the bindings
down next to him. Bracing my foot low against his chest, goosebumps swept
up my leg at his hard, steady heat beat pulsing through me. Blood drummed
in my ears as he caressed up my calf, his left hand creeping unabashed over
my inner thigh.
Dark eyes met mine, and my mouth dried with the undeniable urge to
smash my lips on his. I didn’t fight it . . . couldn’t fight it. Straddling his
waist, my mind went blank as Theo stuck his hand between us, and I grabbed
his face to kiss him hungrily. Now that I had him, I couldn’t stop, and his
groan clogged my throat when he forced his tongue between my teeth.
Tangling his tongue with mine sweetly, his taste tingled along my buds, and I
smiled into the kiss as he worked a finger against my clit leisurely.
“When we get back, I’m gonna fuck you again.” The murmur sent
delicious shivers down my spine, and I pulled back to gnaw on my bottom
lip. I wanted to suck Theo’s cock. The urge curdled in my gut almost to the
point of pain. I wanted to sit on his face and feel his beard burning my thighs.
I wanted to make up for the past two months in just one night.
“We’ll be okay, Theo.” Smooth, scarred skin brushed my cheek at my
mumble, and Theo didn’t protest when I stood on my feet. Clenching and
releasing my fists by my sides as need sloshed in my chest, my knees
wobbled dangerously, and hot, short breaths ravaged my lungs. “The wait
makes it better.”
“I’m not so sure it can get better.” I definitely wasn’t expecting him to
say that, and my brows rose as he flopped his head back to let out a tight huff.
“Hurry up and get dressed.”
“Do you remember in California . . . ” Grabbing the bandages, my heart
refused to calm down, and I licked my dry lips heavily as they tingled with
need. “You told me once that you wished your fingers weren’t gone so you
could appreciate my ass fully.”
Theo barked a laugh and nodded as I started my bandages at my hip
again, and a fond smile stretched my lips. Things seemed so simple back
then. He was kinda creepy and awkward, and I wrestled so much with it.
Deep down, maybe, I acknowledged that that comment was what made me
even more confused.
Because he wasn’t just a creep foisted on me by Sylvie’s bad decisions.
That was when I realized, man, I was in trouble.
“I remember. Honestly, Illya, it’s hard to remember shit before I met you.
It just seems like there was nothing there. Being with Mateo was basically a
dull, endless routine of strip clubs and trips that were all a blur, and before
that . . . obviously, I mean, I got blown up by a tire.” Oh, my God. I couldn’t
friggen handle it anymore, and my hands trembled as Theo continued to rant,
stuck in his own head. Wrapping as fast as I could without risking having to
redo it, I blinked hard as saliva pooled in my mouth. “I know I said this
before, but all I wanted to do was fuck your brains out since the first time I
saw you at the club. After a while, I realized, you know, your chest and that
shit, screwing you with the bandages on was a disservice. I didn’t want to be
another name on a list of bad experiences. If I was gonna fuck you, I had to
do it proper. It really . . . I guess I got more interested in that than trying to
make you happy or feel accepted.”
“That’s the thing that sucked the most these past two months, isn’t it,
Illya? I mean, you’re a pain in the ass, but I only made it worse by
demanding something you didn’t want to give me. That’s fucked up. After
you nearly killed me on the ride home, I realized what the fuck’s the point of
trying to set up everything the way I think it should be? It’s not like I’m
fucking myself, you know? Things aren’t supposed to work like that.” I’d
reached just under what little of my breasts were left when Theo sighed
heavily, pausing to rub his face roughly. My job was shoddy, but I didn’t
much care because a dress would be going over it, anyway. “I wish we both
figured that shit out weeks ago. The interruptions are gonna fucking kill me.”
“To be honest . . . ” Arching slightly as pristine, white sheets rumpled my
skin together, I cleared my throat of its hoarseness as a cold sweat broke out
on my back. “I have too much shit for it all to be on you, Theo.”
“I know. I’m just sayin’ that if I was gonna cum in your mouth, what’s
the point of forcing you to take your bandages off? That’s all.” My gaze
snapped up at that, and Theo propped his elbows on his knees to glare at the
ground without noticing how hot and bothered I was. Or, maybe, he did
notice, but he just chose to ignore it in favor of having such a grave
conversation. “I thought it wasn’t as big a deal as it was. I have scars, too,
right, so, obviously, if I can handle it, so can you. That’s wrong. I’m sorry,
Illya.”
“God!” Blinking viciously against the fierce sting in my eyes, my squawk
rasped my throat, and I whipped around before Theo saw me ruining my
makeup. Forcing a breath through my nose and past the dense lump in my
throat, I craned my neck and shivered violently. The strain of his words
settled heavily on my shoulders, and I ground my teeth as my face grew hot.
Theo’s rustling jeans sounded overly loud in my ears, and I tensed when
he wrapped his arms around me to hold my hands. Taking the bandages in his
right hand, he pressed his cheek against my crown, and shivers strafed my
spine.
“Shit . . . shit . . . Theo . . . ” I was going to destroy what I’d spent the past
half hour perfecting, and he grumbled deeply against my back. The quake
eased some of the tension clinging to my ribs, and I sucked in a shaky breath
before Theo tugged my bandage taut. He basically confessed his love for me
— his regret, at the very least— and I knew that it very well may be the
closest he ever got to actually saying the words.
What the fuck? What the fuck?
Sniffling hard as Theo worked on my bandages, I tilted my head back in a
futile attempt to breathe. He kept his mouth shut, his hands steady, his lips
thin against my crown, and I prayed that my makeup wasn’t smudged.
Because then I’d have to start over, and if I had to start over, I was gonna . . .
“Oof.” The awkwardness in the room went from one to a hundred so fast
it choked me, and I tensed as my head snapped to the door. Carlyle clearly
knew what he’d interrupted even as he held up his hands in mock surrender, a
fake, plastic guilt stretching his smirk. “I’ll wait in the living room, I guess.”
My scars weren’t totally covered, yet, and I frowned when Carlyle turned
out of the doorway to clamp his hand over his mouth tightly. Before he’d
even disappeared beyond the frame, his entire face twisted with disgust, and
all my warm, tingly feelings drained away.
“At least I don’t make you sick with disgust.” Rolling the bundle up my
back and over my shoulder, Theo grunted lowly as I managed a trembling
sigh. “I guess it really doesn’t matter for other people.”
41

Theo
I can’t fucking take it. Illya and I had such a good, good moment, and fucking
Carlyle had to ruin it. The gun holstered against my hip burned through my
jeans, and I wanted to fucking vomit as rage boiled my insides. Glaring at
him even as two cars pulled through into the quad that served as a parking
lot, I stuffed my fists into my jeans.
Not that it helped at all.
“I wonder what they’re like. Carlyle and Mateo are so different.” Illya’s
mumble barely breathed the blood drumming in my ears, and I grunted lowly.
My eyelid twitched with how fucking hard I glared at him, and I knew he
could feel it. That dick! “Theo, it’s not a big deal.”
“I’m gonna fucking beat him until he shits himself.” At the least, Carlyle
had the decency to look ashamed of himself in Illya’s apartment. He didn’t
apologize, of course, but that didn’t matter. He fucking knew Illya wasn’t
dressed, and he still chose to interrupt and see that shit. Rubbing my arm, she
didn’t say anything more when the cars parked in front of us, and I hoovered
up a massive breath in an attempt to calm myself.
I sincerely hoped that Carlyle would walk in on me blowing Illya’s back
out so he could see the way a real man treats a woman with a little physical
baggage.
The door behind us cracked open, and I twisted to lay eyes on Mateo for
the first time in months. He wore a nice suit, but he looked older, more
haggard, and wouldn’t meet my gaze as he slunk past. Obviously, he had a
hard time wrestling with the reality of the situation, but at least he didn’t
come outside in a stained shirt and reeking of alcohol.
Oh, the stories the maids told when they thought no one was listening.
Normally, they came around twice a week to tidy up, but they had to make
daily trips to Mateo’s apartment because he was such a fucking slob. I wasn’t
sure how anyone could make a mess like that in just twenty-four hours, but
apparently, he did.
But Mateo crawling out of his hole also meant that his father and older
brother coming here wasn’t something to take lightly. Running his hand
through his hair, he stood next to Carlyle but a good distance away, and I
rolled my shoulders to get rid of the tension zinging through me.
A car door popped open, and I cleared my throat roughly of the
expectation that clogged it. Truth be told, I expected a slender, tall guy with a
few good wrinkles and a cigar hanging from his mouth.
Carlyle and Mateo’s father was tall, true— he was slender, sure— but the
huge, bright smile that showed off his strong features belayed the menacing
attitude I was positive he owned. His bald head shimmered in the sun, and his
super expensive suit and shoes were wrinkle-free and polished to perfection.
He even wore a funny tie with purple polka-dots on it, and I scanned him
slowly through narrowed eyes.
“My boy!” Ignoring Mateo completely, the older man pulled Carlyle into
a hug as his deep baritone crawled up the brick walls around us. Clapping
Carlyle on the back, he held him by the shoulders at arm’s length to grin with
pride. “I see you’re doing well.”
“Spain’s been good to you, Dad.” The old man nodded, and my brows
furrowed when he turned his full attention to Mateo. Just like with Carlyle,
they hugged, but there was nothing but concern etched into that sun-baked
face when they parted.
“How are you, Mateo? You’ve had it hard, kid.” Mateo struggled not to
cry in the face of his father’s worry, which, I guess, was more telling than
any words. Cupping Mateo’s jaw, his dad stroked his cheeks, and I shared a
curious glance with Illya. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? You’ll get through
this. It’ll be hard, but I know you can overcome anything.”
“Yeah.” Only offering that hoarse reply, Mateo nodded curtly, and I
almost felt like I was watching something I shouldn’t. Tearing my eyes off
them, I focused instead on the person who stepped out of the SUV after him
and rocked back on my heels. That must be Oran.
The dude was a textbook nerd upon first glance, with sleek glasses, no
jacket, but he wore suspenders. However, tattoos sleeved up his arms and
disappeared under his rolled shirt, the plain, white button-down thick enough
to hide the ink. Oran shook hands with Carlyle but refused to look at Mateo,
and dark brown eyes flickered around the courtyard.
“I see nothing about this place has changed. It still looks like a run-down
college housing building.” Disdain dribbled thickly from Oran’s mouth, and
Carlyle shot his little brother a snooty look. For a moment, they glared at
each other, but Oran eventually cracked a smirk that barely tilted his lips
before the tension snapped. “It’s good to see you, Carlyle.”
“How’s life across the pond?” Oran shrugged his thin shoulders at the
probe, and Carlyle huffed a bare laugh.
“Boring. I’m moving back. I can’t stand that fucking country anymore.”
Keen eyes drifted my way, and Oran lifted his nose as he scanned me, his
gaze pausing at the gun on my hip. “I see you’ve got a new guy. What
happened to the last one?”
“He didn’t do his job, so I replaced him.” Oran grunted lowly at that, and
his eyes turned to Illya before he decided she wasn’t worth his time. “Let’s
head inside so we can discuss this issue we’ve got.”
“Right.” The father, whose name I didn’t know, popped up between his
two elder sons, and my brows furrowed as confusion clung to my ribs. “Let’s
head inside so we can eat. It’s been so long since we’ve gotten together. I
wish your mother was here to see you all get along.”
“Tolerating each other is more what we’re doing, Dad.” Carlyle gestured
to me, and my gaze ping-ponged between the three of them before I realized
neither of them brought bodyguards, either. “This is Theo.”
“Wonderful!” The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when the old
man strode the short distance to me, and I automatically pulled my right hand
out of my pocket. He grabbed me with a force I wasn’t expecting, and I
clenched my jaw against the pain that rippled noticeably up my arm. His grin
widened, this time accompanied with a malicious glint in his eye, and my
pupils narrowed into fine points. “I’m George.”
“You’re a sociopath is what you are.” This whole fucking family was
fucked up, which put them all in a perfect position to lord over us
commoners. George dropped his act for the briefest second, a dry laugh
bursting from his throat before he shook his head.
“You’ve got jokes. I like that.” He squeezed my hand hard, and my lips
thinned as he pulled back to release my palm. My arm cramped visibly, but I
beat down the pain as shrewd eyes blackened with age scanned me from top
to bottom. “I think you’re a good fit for my son. Anyway, enough with the
trivialities. Let’s head in and eat. I’m starving.”
I went and grabbed the door, and George hung back as his sons filed past
me. When it was his turn, he shot me the most scathing, dead-eye glare
possible, and my lip curled in a snarl in return.
So, the old man’s got secrets. Of course he did. The act was convincing,
and I wondered if his kids knew he couldn’t feel anything for them.
 “Stay away from him, Illya.” Leaning down to mumble in her ear as she
passed, I grabbed her forearm to squeeze insistently, and Illya nodded with a
knowing look. Muted concern shimmered behind her fake, brown lenses, and
I frowned darkly. “He’s way more fucked up than the others.”
“Yeah.” Releasing her soft skin, I held my own arm and flexed my
fingers and thumb as my skin spasmed up towards my elbow. “Are you
okay?”
“I’m fine.” Nodding hesitantly, Illya started off down the hallway, and I
inhaled deeply to hold my breath. Exhaling slowly, I straightened my
shoulders and stretched my stiff fingers a few more times on my way behind
her. Whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t good.
It wasn’t good at all.
42

Illya
I nibbled at the edges of my plate, too busy watching the table out of my
peripheral vision. The tension was so subtle, but I could cut it with a dull
knife. I could taste the lies every time I opened my mouth, and— not for the
first time— I wondered what the Hell I’d gotten forced into.
These men were brothers, but they fucking despised each other . . . or
they were really good actors. Either way, it was almost impossible to breathe
under all the testosterone in the air.
“So, what are we doing about this issue, Carlyle?” Glancing up from the
edge of the table for the first time in almost half an hour, I tried not to stare
too hard at Oran. He was clearly the kind of guy that liked to ride a
motorcycle, but only drinks expensive champagne off a pair of natural tits.
He leaned back gracefully, propping his lean arm behind his head, and if I
looked close enough, I could see his father in his face. “Obviously, the
suspicion is enough. Something clearly happened to make these idiots think
they could get away with this.”
“If they’re idiots for trying, what are we for being fooled for so long?”
The sagely question earned a gruff snort, and Carlyle set his silverware down
with a soft tink as his father sighed. “It’s a smart plan, Oran, and you
shouldn’t underestimate that just because it makes you look bad. Personally
attacking someone because they got the better of you is distasteful.”
“I won’t know how long it’s been going on until I have your files, but it’s
safe to say that it’s been a while. I only just noticed the discrepancies a few
months ago, which is telling in itself. It doesn’t really matter why, either.
Now that we know without a doubt, the question is ‘how are we going to deal
with it?’.” Carlyle spoke with authority, and he clasped his hands on the table
to nod to himself. “Obviously, I’m going to kill them. The trick here is to
avoid them doing it somehow while not raising suspicion. We can’t just drop
them all, but we clearly can’t keep them involved in our business.”
“Obviously.” Jutting his chin out, Oran glared at his brother like Carlyle
was an idiot himself. Nothing he said hadn’t already crossed all minds in the
room. Frowning slightly under furrowed brows, I stabbed a piece of steamed
broccoli in the charged silence. “Get to the point, Carlyle.”
“We’re not set to require all of them in one place until Christmas. This is
the obvious route to go, but I’ve got a better idea.” This was the first time
I’ve heard of this ‘better idea’ and Carlyle glanced warily at me. “I
understand that we’re not patient men. I want to get them together to
‘interview’ a new translator for me.”
The fine hairs on my neck and back stood up as Carlyle put me on the
spot, and I pursed my lips thinly against my frown. His look was barely a
second, but all attention was suddenly on me anyway. Setting down my fork,
I straightened my shoulders and made a point to chew him out later.
“Her?” A sudden sense of caution swept through in a powerful wave, and
I clenched my jaw hard at the disgust in Oran’s tone. “Why would you trus—
”
“Shut up, Oran.” Carlyle was the boss, here, and Oran clamped his mouth
shut as ordered even though he didn’t look happy about it. “Drop the
almighty God act. Just because you’re pissed you’re not the smartest person
on Earth doesn’t give you the right to be a dick. I brought her on not because
I trust her, but because I believe she can get the job done. She’s a means to an
end. When this is over, I’ll decide how much I trust her.”
“It’s surprising what you can find in the gutter, isn’t it?” Speaking up
from directly across from me, George stared with a gaze that reminded me of
dead fish eyes. Suppressing the shiver that burrowed between my shoulder
blades, I hid my hands under the table, but I knew he’d seen the tremor that
raked them. “It’s definitely a much speedier and stable plan than waiting for
Christmas. With all those people around, it’d be a difficult thing to execute.”
“I don’t understand why you insisted we come to this shit-stain when you
have it all figured out, Carly.” I held my breath as Carlyle became physically
agitated at his brother’s slight, but I couldn’t take my eyes off George’s.
Something in there seemed almost like familiarity, as if he knew me, and I
didn’t look away until he did when Carlyle stood up. Rounding the head of
the table, he strode confident and in charge to Oran, and I jumped with a
squeak of shock when he unceremoniously shoved his brother right out of his
chair.
Carlyle stepped his heel on Oran’s cheek, pinning him down, and Oran
didn’t try to fight it. Watching it was like watching animals scuffle for
dominance, and Carlyle only lifted his Italian leather shoe when Oran went
limp on the floor.
 “Don’t insult me in my own home. I won’t warn you again, and you
know what happens when I get pissed off.” Flapping his jacket to make his
point, Carlyle walked around the rectangular table to stand behind my chair.
My lungs burned with stale air, but I didn’t dare inhale or even blink as he set
his hands on the back rung. “I insisted you both come here because this was a
conversation we needed to have in person. Whether or not you approve, I’m
doing what I think is best. I won’t let five people call into question everything
we’ve done. This will get out— that’s a certain. What we can’t let happen is
avoiding the ripple effects.”
“Very well said, Carlyle. We indeed need to set an example. The
Syndicate would be gripped in upheaval if we don’t deal with this the right
way.” The Syndicate? No one answered my silent question, and Oran sat up
to adjust his glasses with his head hung low out of the corner of my eye. “Our
tendrils spread far. There’s no telling what the bugs at the bottom would try if
they were confident enough.”
George’s words rang through the dining room, and Carlyle nodded above
my head before leaving my chair to take up his own. Finally, I managed a
shallow breath, and he cleared his throat roughly before speaking up.
“So, although I have this planned, my question is this. I want to know
what you think is the best way to deal with them? From what I’ve been able
to gather just on my end, there’s about seven million in unaccounted money
that’s been stolen. I want to know what you think is worth all that.”
“Shouldn’t we leave that to the experts? My only suggestion is that
whatever we do, we live-stream it.” Goosebumps washed my arms at that
flippant consideration, and Carlyle nodded firmly at his dad. “Of course, you
already know that, Carlyle.”
“I do. Since this affects all of us, I wanted your opinions anyway.” The
notion that Carlyle was planning something incredible that he didn’t want
anyone to know about hit me right in the gut. This was all a distraction from .
. . from something. Frowning under brows furrowed in confusion, I turned
my stare back to the edge of the table and fiddled with the cloth that lapped
over to brush my lap.
“What about you, Mateo? You’ve been awfully quiet. What do you think
about this whole ordeal?” The moment slid by on pins and needles as Mateo
sunk into his seat and grumbled nonsensically, and I couldn’t help the disgust
that coated my tongue. “Come now, surely you have something to say on the
matter?”
 “I don’t, no.” He sounded so much more gruff than those times I’d heard
him speak, and I actually felt a little bad for Mateo. He’d been through a lot
— whether it was his own making or not— and his dad smiled
sympathetically at him. “I don’t really care about it at all.”
“Good of you to have the option.” Oran’s snark was back in full force,
and Mateo only slipped deeper down into his seat. “Regardless, your opinion
doesn’t matter, anyway.”
Talk about family drama . . . man . . .
43

Illya
“Why’d you say that Christmas was the best option when you knew it
wasn’t?” Pointing an accusatory finger at Carlyle, I scowled darkly when he
shrugged carelessly. “You know, trust goes both ways. Just because you’re
my boss or whatever doesn’t give you the right to manipulate me to fuck with
your family.”
“The fact that you figured it out and Oran didn’t is telling.” We were
outside, a cigarette muffling Carlyle’s words, and he sparked his lighter with
disdain dragging down the corners of his mouth. “He thinks he’s so fucking
smart, but all he does is complain. I swear, he probably doesn’t even need
those glasses.”
“Carlyle.” Holding up a hand to silence me, he took a deep drag of his
smoke, and I exhaled hotly through my nose. Annoyance roiled through me,
and he blew smoke above my head before leaning against the wall to cross
his ankles.
“Do you think my father doesn’t know who you are?” The question made
me pause, and his frown deepened. “Nothing happens without him knowing.
I may run things here in the States, but he runs everything. He has Mateo
fooled, but Oran and I both know better. Why do you think Oran’s under our
father’s wing? He’s trying to wrest control from me. I told you Christmas
was better because the only thing that doesn’t fool my father is genuine
reaction. There’s no point in trying to lie to him.”
“So . . . so . . . what? This is some internal power play? Why am I always
getting sucked into shit that has nothing to do with me?” Frustration
thickened my tone, and I ran my hand through my hair roughly as Carlyle’s
cheek twitched. “Translator, fine. Drugging someone, I can probably do that.
But this is dangerous, Carlyle, and I—”
“Illya . . . ” Extending his arm to offer me his smoke like some sort of
fucked-up olive branch, Carlyle’s eyes narrowed on me until I took it.
Anxiety gnawed deep in my gut, and I took a huge drag in an attempt to snuff
it out. “Relax. You’re not some key part. Don’t mistake your involvement in
my scheme to outwit my brother with taking action. You did exactly what I
needed you to do.”
“Make your brother look like a dickhead so you could swoop in and save
the situation.” Smoke bubbled from my nose and mouth as understanding
pushed it from my lungs, and Carlyle nodded firmly.
“There’s one thing I will never let happen, Illya, and that’s giving control
of something so powerful to someone like Oran. I know you noticed, he’s got
no sense of humility, and everyone is beneath him. Those that can’t do,
judge.” I nodded dumbly, and Carlyle reached to caress my cheek with a
warmth in his eyes before sneaking the cigarette from my mouth. “I’ve been
playing this game a long time, and you’re right, trust isn’t a one-way street. It
has to be built, and building it means taking risks. In this case, it was small.”
“It was really obvious. Are you sure he didn’t notice you set it all up?”
“I’m sure he did, but that’s the beauty of it. It was so obvious, so why
didn’t Oran notice and back down?” My eyes widened in realization, and
Carlyle smirked a little. “It wasn’t about how sneaky I was. It was about how
obliviously stupid Oran can be. If he could, he’d shoot anyone that did
anything he didn’t like, and that list is very long. Not to mention, if Oran did
know I was setting him up, he deliberately chose to push himself into a
corner, which is arguably worse. He’d save his self-dignity, make everyone
around him an enemy, rather than accept the facts.”
“I’m always so appreciative that you were born first.” Stepping out from
behind the door, George smiled as I tensed, but Carlyle didn’t seem at all
surprised. And if he was, he hid it well. This fucking family . . . ugh! George
scanned me from top to bottom, and I stood up a little straighter. “Aren’t you
just the cutest thing? Just like my daughter, God bless her soul.”
My brows rose in surprise. That was the first thing Carlyle said to me,
too.
“Uh . . . thanks. I wish I could’ve met her.” He waved a long, gnarled
hand that didn’t show any signs of arthritis at my comment, stepping out into
the shadows cast from the tall buildings.
“No, she was pretty, but truly stupid.” My jaw almost unhinged at that,
and Carlyle chuckled fondly as his dad’s smile widened. “From what my son
has shared with me, you’re not the same. My condolences about your family.
I wanted to reach out, but you disappeared.”
“You knew my parents?” George nodded, and my eyes flew to Carlyle as
his expression turned grave and stony. “You knew he knew me?”
“Your mother was the only person to ever connect me to anything.”
Nerves dried my tongue even as it sneaked to swipe my lips, and I crossed
my arms over my chest. As if sensing where my mind was going, George
shook his head, a sad, almost plastic expression fixed on his face. “I was
upset to hear she’d passed. I offered her a job if being a policewoman ever
fell through. She declined, of course. I hate wasting talent like that.”
“I . . . I appreciate it.” Awkwardness surged through me because I
believed him— even though I knew better. He might be reciting from a book,
but that last bit . . . Shaking my head, I turned to Carlyle, and he exhaled
smoke out of his nose under furrowed brows. “What now?”
“Now, I wait to see what Oran will do. The problem with seeing everyone
as below you is that you consider them to be inconsequential. I’m sure he’ll
try something.” I nearly choked on my own spit, and my face grew hot while
Carlyle sucked on the butt of his cigarette leisurely. “I don’t allow violence in
my home. You’re perfectly safe, Illya.”
“The fact that I have to be reassured about my safety, I swear to God,
Carlyle, I want it in writing that if anything happens to me, I get to stab you
in the arm or something.” Pushing himself off the wall, Carlyle loomed over
me, but I stood my ground. I didn’t even have to crane my neck to glare at
him in the eye. Taking the cigarette from between his lips, he held it out to
me again, and my eyes narrowed before I reached to take it.
“Fine. If anything happens to you, you can stab me in the arm. Right
here.” Tapping his bicep over his shirt, all seriousness glittered in his eyes,
and Carlyle ran his hand roughly through his hair before stepping back.
“Regardless, this is a waiting game, now. Even if Oran manages to surprise
me, we need to set up your interview, and Mateo is a problem for me. I have
too much going on to babysit him any longer.”
“He’s my boy, Carlyle. I’ll take care of him.” For a second, George’s
mask disappeared, and he developed the most monotone, flat expression
imaginable. “It’s about time he grew up and took responsibility for his
actions. I don’t think he’s quite got the message, yet.”
Scary . . . he really is a sociopath.
“We’ll talk about that later. I’ve already sent out the e-mail. We’re just
waiting for confirmation. The interview will happen on Saturday. That’s
more than enough time to set up the live feed and make arrangements. Until
then, Illya, I want you to keep going through my files and find out what you
can. The rest are being sent over as we speak. I can keep them digital, if you
find that easier.”
 “Yeah, that’s fine. Like I said, I doubt there’s much there since you don’t
use interpreters as much as your father and brother.” Nodding to myself, my
mind whirred in that direction as memories of all those words flashed in my
mind’s eye. “Do these guys know I have all the transcripts?”
“Probably, why?”
“What if they ask about it?” Amusement drenched Carlyle’s features, and
even George laughed at me as embarrassment sloshed against my ribs.
“What? If they know I figured out what they’re doing, I . . . ”
“Illya . . . ” Plopping his warm palm on my crown, Carlyle smiled a
genuine smile, and heat suffused my cheeks as I held my breath. “You really
are the cutest. You’re not being interviewed. When those five get here, I’m
going to torture and execute them on a live stream. You probably won’t even
know they’re here.”
“Ooh.” Carlyle’s scarier than his dad, it’s official.
Carlyle truly didn’t care about anyone. He wasn’t mentally ill, he just had
no regard for human life unless it suited him somehow. Jesus Christ.
44

Illya
The door to my apartment swung open like a beautiful, black hole that
wanted to suck me in, and I wanted to let it. My feet hurt, my brain hurt, the
cuticles of my fingernails hurt, damnit. Shuffling heavily down the short
hallway to the living room, I flicked on the light sluggishly, and I had half a
mind to throw myself on the sofa.
“Finally.” A shrill shriek burst from my throat, and I held my arms to my
chest to cup my face as I whipped around. My heart threatened to climb out
of my throat, and Oran lifted himself from my kitchen chair . . . that he’d
been sitting in . . . in the dark . . . for God only knew how long. “I was
thinking you’d never get here.”
“This is my place.” Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Gulping hard, I
backed up when Oran stepped across the threshold to the living room. “W-
what do you want? I’m not having sex with you.”
“You wouldn’t have a choice if that was what I wanted.” The hairs on the
back of my neck bristled, my goosebumps intensifying as Oran stalked
towards me like a cat watching a bird. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“That was an awful answer if you wanted my cooperation.” His dark eyes
flashed behind his glasses, and I crossed my arms over my chest despite the
fierce pull on my skin. “Get out. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“You haven’t even heard my proposal.”
“You just said you’d rape me without even thinking twice.” My snipe
sunk deep into the pit in my stomach, and Oran arched a brow in surprise.
“Fine. What is it so you can leave and I can lock all the locks behind you.”
“I know you’re new here. Do you even know what it is, exactly, you’re
getting into?” Oran fucking sat on the low wall separating the kitchen and
living room, clasping his hands between his knees, and his surprise faded into
seriousness. A barrage of emotions rushed between my lungs, and I pursed
my lips thinly in an effort to regulate my breath. “You do know this is a
criminal organization spanning nationality and all borders. You looked
uncomfortable at lunch. I get the sense you’re not used to violence or
discomfort.”
 “What’s that supposed to mean?” Watching him now, so close that I
could see the flecks of grey in his eyes, Oran didn’t seem nearly as dumb as
Carlyle believed. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Doesn’t it upset you that you’ve been dragged into this through events
out of your control?” What the fuck is he getting at? Taking off his glasses,
Oran stuck them in his shirt pocket, and I could clearly see that he was just as
smart as he thought he was. “I’m not going to lie. You’ve had it rough. Do
the benefits outweigh the risks for you?”
“What benefits do you think I’m weighing against?” Oran knew who I
was, just like his dad and Carlyle. Unless . . . My brows rose, and he frowned
as something dark flashed in his eyes. “You didn’t do any research on me,
did you? That’s why you’re here. Carlyle somehow stopped you from being
able to, and you’re trying to hard read me.”
Everything about Oran was a lie.
And it was hilarious.
I laughed an almost maniacal cackle, and tears sprang to my eyes as I sat
back on the armrest of the sofa. Huge, heaving bubbled of mirth burst inside
my ribcage, and Oran’s glare bounced off my chin when I threw my head
back. My chest tightened, and I curled my shoulders in an attempt to ease the
throbbing just under my skin. My laughter echoed through my apartment, and
I covered my face after a moment with clammy palms.
“Ooh-oh, my God, oh shit.” Sputtering wildly, I cracked open a stinging
eye only to bluster a giggle through helplessly thin lips, and Oran started
turning red in the face. Unable to contain how idiotically comical this was, I
squeezed my achy cheeks together, but it didn’t stop my laughter. “Oh, I
can’t breathe.”
My lungs burned, everything burned, and I wiped my tears off my face
before noticing that Oran had physically relaxed as he sat, tapping his heels
together. The sight of him smiling faintly quenched my chortling, and he slid
to his feet to saunter towards me.
“You remind me a lot of my sister.” Bracing his arms on either side of
me, his eyes glimmered brightly with affection as he came so close his nose
brushed mine. Sucking in a sharp breath, my eyes widened as the fine hairs
on my face bristled at his soft expression. “Do I seem stupid to you, Illya? Or
is it all an act? Am I just a really, really good liar, or do I have the situational
awareness of a rancid lemon?”
“I . . . ” My voice faltered when Oran’s eyes narrowed into slits on mine,
and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “No matter what it is, I don’t
want anything to do with it. The same thing I told Carlyle, I’m staying out of
whatever’s going on between you two.”
“I hope you do, or you’ll end up just like her. Dead. However bad you’ve
had it, Illya, it’s nothing compared to what’ll happen if you get caught in the
middle of Dear Big Brother and I.” Shivering at the threat that rolled down
my sternum, I clenched my jaw as Oran reached to tuck my hair behind my
ear. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
“I haven’t regretted it so far, and just because you’re confusing won’t
make me.” Thanking God that my voice didn’t waver, I frowned as I lifted
my hand between our faces, and Oran leaned back with a slight, knowing,
infuriating smirk. “Get out.”
“With an attitude like that, not even my father will dare piss you off.”
Oran turned up his nose at me, his smirk widening, and my eyelid twitched in
irritation. Even if he was a mystery, that fucking haughtiness was all too real.
“Goodnight, Illya.”
“Whatever.” He didn’t stop retreating from my apartment at my grumble,
and I only breathed a shaky breath when the lock clicked damningly on the
doorframe. Slumping hard, my brain churned furiously as the past thirty-five
seconds or so flashed behind my lids when they shuttered tight.
A sociopath.
A heartless bastard.
An expert liar.
“This is so frustrating.” True to my word, though, I didn’t regret coming
here even if the choice had more or less been made for me. The door beeped
shrilly, and the reason I was here, dealing with all this shit, came waltzing in
to cast me a curious, dark glance.
“I thought you’d be asleep by now.” Theo scanned me critically, and I
inhaled through my nose as my heart stabilized against my ribs. “What
happened?”
“Today sucked.” I wasn’t sure what to tell Theo, or what he would feel
comfortable keeping from Carlyle, and he grunted lowly as I dodged the
question. “I just . . . I don’t know what I was expecting, but everything is so
confusing and dramatic and I feel like I’m watching a bad soap opera.”
“If you don’t like it here, I’ll tell Carlyle to fuck off and we can leave. It’s
fine here, but that’s because I know not to let the internal politics screw with
my head.” The offer knocked the air from my lungs, and Theo stalked
towards me to sweep me off the side of the sofa. “We’ll sleep on it.”
“I’m gonna wait and see how this week plays out, I think, before I think
up any real thoughts.” Winding my arms around Theo’s neck, I rested my
cheek on his shoulder as he carried me to my room. “If it’s a one-off. I can
deal with that, maybe.”
“Things like this heat up and cool down. It’s never a one-off.” I hummed
in acknowledgment as my eyelids became heavy, and Theo squeezed me
reassuringly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Illya.”
“I know. It’s the things I don’t know that make me nervous.” He didn’t
reply to that, but I knew the next few weeks were going to be nuts.
Tightening my arms around Theo’s neck, I soaked up his warmth. It was
better to focus on him than the looming disasters waiting to happen.
45

Illya
“Do the benefits outweigh the risks?” Oran’s question raced around and
around in my head, and I huffed softly. “Of course, they do. What’s gonna
happen? I’ll be a street rat again, and it’s nothing I haven’t gone through
before.”
“What do what?” Glancing up as Theo wandered out of the kitchen with
two plates in his hands, I scowled lightly. “Are you nervous about the
interview thing that’s not really an interview?”
“Not really, anymore. Oran was here the other night. He hung out in the
dark waiting for me like a creep, and I don’t know why.” Theo paused mid-
sit to frown at me, and I shrugged as my cheek twitched at the memories. The
smell of bacon and eggs wafted into my nostrils, and he passed me my plate
before settling into the sofa. “I don’t want to stop this train, you know? This
apartment, and you, and even Carlyle, the jerk. I’ve wanted stability for so
long, and I finally have it. And no rich asshole with a Riddler complex is
gonna shake me.”
“Your resolve is sexy. If you ask me, though, Oran’s a pussy that can
only beat on women weaker than himself. I heard the maids talkin’ shit about
him— he has a harem, apparently. That’s so fucked up. And he beats them all
up, too.” Disgust slathered my tongue, and I shook my head wildly as Theo
balanced a piece of toast on his fingertips. “Seriously, just ignore it, Illya. It’s
not worth getting involved.”
“You of all people should know I don’t ‘get involved’. I get dragged into
shit.” Grumbling as I picked up a piece of bacon, I glanced over at him out of
the corner of my eye. “Why are you so cool about some creep being in my
apartment in the middle of the night?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions?” Shooting back a question of his own, Theo
took a huge bite of his toast, and the egg on top gushed everywhere. He
swallowed quickly, and I nibbled my bacon as he talked through his
mouthful. “You already said he did it to rattle you, and he clearly doesn’t like
you for some reason only he knows. You’ll be fine, Illya. Just sit back, relax,
and enjoy the breakfast I painstakingly created for you.”
 “But—” Cutting me off with a sharp glance, Theo arched a brow, and I
ducked my head. He sighed softly, reaching over to rub my shoulder roughly.
“You can’t worry about shit that hasn’t happened yet, or shit that might
not happen at all. Whatever it is, you already said it, right? No rich asshole is
gonna shake you, Illya.” Squeezing my shoulder, he took another bite of his
toast before setting it down and putting the plate on the coffee table. “Make a
decision and stick to it. Do you wanna ride out what might be the best
decision of your life, or do you wanna run away again and try to do it by
yourself?”
“I do.” Pursing my lips thinly, I picked up my own toast, the fried egg on
top begging to be broken open. The glistening egg was mesmerizing, and my
murmur slithered up from my throat softly. “I’m tired. I know I’ve done
nothing for a long time, but. . . despite everything, I’m still tired. I wish
things could be easy.”
“Nothing worth doing is easy. Plus, you’re just upset about your job, and
Carlyle’s family is here. . . you’ll be fine. Just do what you’ve always done,
Illya. Persevere. It can’t be that hard with all that practice you got.” The
silence was nice, and I focused on eating as my mind raced through
everything I’d been through. By some twist of fate, I ended up here. In New
York. I had a nice apartment, and a man, and a good job.
That was what everyone wanted in life, right?
And the fact that I worked for a criminal sociopath was. . . excusable. As
long as I didn’t get in Carlyle’s way, he wouldn’t get in mine. I was a queen
of living in the crowd, unnoticed and unwanted, and wasn’t that his whole
spiel, anyway?
Most importantly, though, I would have what I always wanted. Me. What
I dreamed of since my parents died, and what I strived for by myself that was
unattainable alone. Finally, after all these years of struggling, I had stability.
“Even if it’s just right now. . . fuck everyone else. I spent way too long
working for this. It shouldn’t matter what’s next. Right now, I’m good. We’re
good.” Nodding firmly, I reached to hold Theo’s mangled hand, and the
roughness of it rose goosebumps on my arm. Leaning over to kiss him, I
opened my mouth to savor the taste and feel of him. “Carlyle and his crazy
brother’s can go fuck themselves.”
“That’s the spirit.” He ruffling my hair, and a little laugh escaped me as
he picked up his plate. This, just him and I. . . a girl could get used to this.
And I would get used to it, because Theo was a wonderful man. “For now,
nothing is going wrong, and everything is looking like it’ll go right, Illya.”
Smiling broadly at his blind optimism, I ducked my head in a nod and
flipped my hair back to take a huge bite from my egg and toast. The yolk
oozed down my palm, and I gasped when Theo grabbed my arm to lick it up.
Another laugh burst from my throat, and warmth suffused every part of me.
Not a fiery, abrasive heat. Not a frigid, angry heat. Just. . . a warmth. The
benefits definitely outweigh the risks, and I’m just going to accept that.
Carlyle
1

Carlyle
Leaning heavily on the door frame, I waited for Marcella to open up, and
when she did, she scowled darkly. Crossing her arms over her ample bust,
she ducked her head and shuffled to the side to let me in. Theo hung around
outside, and I didn’t give him much of a second thought as I kicked the
barrier shut behind me.
“Why can’t you get the hint and leave me alone, Carlyle? I did what you
wanted.” Marcella complained so fucking much, and I grabbed her chin as I
pinned her against the back of her pleather sofa. Her little gasp bristled my
chest hairs, and I quite liked the fear bolting through her eyes as they
widened.
“Shut up and get on your knees. For someone who complains about booty
calls, you still never say ‘no.’” She licked her juicy, thick lips at my growl,
and I wrapped my arm around her waist to twirl us around. Sitting lightly on
the back of the sofa, my knees apart, I released her face with a slight jerk. If
Marcella wasn’t so easy— and easily accessible— maybe I’d do what she
wanted to leave her alone.
“You’d probably—” My brows furrowed as she clamped her mouth shut,
and Marcella dropped to her knees to unfasten my pants with her long,
manicure-tipped fingers. “Are you positive Illya doesn’t know I’m connected
with you?”
“You’re so worried about that, it’s kind of cute. So, did you hear back yet
about your audition tape?” I honestly, truly, didn’t care about Marcella
applying to that talent agency, but it’d be better for me if she wasn’t difficult.
Clenching my jaw as she pulled my cock out, I gripped the hard edge of the
couch as heat flooded my veins. If nothing else, Marcella could do this one
thing perfectly, and she wrapped her fine lips around my head rather than
answer immediately.
“Not yet. I don’t know what’s going to happen. The word going around is
that she’s based in Nevada. I might go there.” Mumbling against my shaft,
Marcella glanced up at me, and my eyelid twitched as the pleasantness in my
gut turned sour. “If you put in a good word for me, I might get somewhere,
Carlyle.”
“I did business with that woman for you. That’s recommendation enough.
If you haven’t heard back, I don’t know what you think is going to happen.”
Disgust dribbled from my tongue, not because I had to deal with Esmarissa,
but because of how she came to that point. She, this no-name bitch from
some shit town in the desert, managed to outwit Wren Lockhart so
effortlessly. Truthfully, I thought it was as impressive as it was annoying that
I had to pay for a service that should be free.
After all, I spent enough money on Marcella. I put her in California for
three years, and she still had another year and a half to go until I could ship
her back to whatever shit hole she crawled out of.
“Carlyle . . . ” My eyes narrowed on her as she squeezed, grazing her lips
against my sac, and I ground my teeth together. “I would really appreciate if
...”
Marcella gave me the eyes, and I cocked my head as I gestured her up.
Irritation simmered just under my skin, but she didn’t notice as she rubbed
against me. Her voluptuous chest swelled to peek out from her tank top, and I
switched positions with her. My disgust over Wren boiled away into
amusement at how she hung all over me as if it would actually work.
Tangling my hand in her thick hair, I nosed her neck, and Marcella
gasped as her knees clung to my hips. She was just a slut, nothing more, and
I’d already paid for her. Anything that happened, I could cover it.
Besides, she was never going to get that call back from Esmarissa’s talent
agency. If she had even the slimmest chance, I wouldn’t have been able to
lease her for five years.
The silencer on the gun in my hand pressed against her chin, and
Marcella tensed as her scent became deliciously sweet with fear and alarm.
“Why don’t you ever fucking learn, you useless cunt?” Her breath caught
loudly, chest stuttering against mine, and, suddenly, she was icy cold where
her skin touched mine. Yanking her head back, I relished her sharp cry, and I
put my gun down on the top of the sofa cushion to stick my cock back in my
dress pants. She trembled with the urge to be still, hoping the danger might
pass without noticing her, but I’d had about enough of her shit.
“P-please don’t.” Panic-stricken, red-rimmed eyes widened when I
frowned at her sputter, and Marcella whimpered. “Please.”
“I told you already, Marcella— shut up and get on your knees. Did you
honestly think I wanted to be bombarded with your worries? Who gives a
flying fuck about Illya catching you? Why the fuck would I care about your
futile attempts to be an actress? At what fucking point did you misunderstand
‘booty call’ for ‘conversation’?” Pressing the mouth of the silencer under her
chin, I dragged the cold metal down her throat as it flexed wildly. My
mumble filled the entire living room, and I forced her to meet my eyes when
she tried to look away. “You suck cock and spread your ass cheeks, you
filthy fucking whore— nothing more.”
She trembled at my snarl, spit flinging across her face and forcing her to
close one eye even as the other boggled. Honestly, it was a little funny how
shocked she was that her little plan didn’t work. Who the Hell did she think I
was, anyway?
“I will . . . I will . . . I p—” Shaking my head, I sucked my teeth, and her
lips thinned until a white line circled them. Marcella’s legs fell from around
my waist, and I stepped back without letting go of her hair.
“No, you won’t. You complicated it when I wanted something simple.”
Smirking broadly, I untangled my hand from her hair, but Marcella was a
deer in headlights. “Think of it this way, Marcella. Now, you don’t have to
worry about Illya finding out you lied about your entire friendship and who
you were. In fact, you don’t have to worry about anything anymore . . . unless
...”
Gesturing her down with the gun, her wide, fearful, brown eyes flickered
at the glint under the light, and she dropped like a sack of potatoes. When she
went to reach for my pants, her first tears started to fall, and I got bored.
It was always when they started crying, I got bored.
“You know, Marcella, if you think about it— wouldn’t you have already
gotten a callback or a visit or something if they picked you out of the pile?
Surely, they have a lot of people to go through, but they probably have
people to wheedle out the talentless with too much self-delusion.” Kneeling
down, I propped the gun under her chin to force her face up, and her puff of a
sob rolled down my wrist to curl under my shirt. “For that matter, haven’t
you been a whore for a while? Long enough that if Esmarissa did know about
you, she sure as fuck wouldn’t have agreed to a deal with me, right? Five
years— why would she give up promising talent for five years . . . unless
you’re not as talented as Mommy and Daddy told you.
“I mean, it could be possible that Esmarissa wanted to impress me, but if
that was the case, she shouldn’t have chosen you.” I put my finger over the
trigger, and Marcella begged me with her eyes. Her lips trembled too hard,
trying to keep quiet. Maybe, that would’ve helped her two minutes ago, when
I told her to shut up and do a simple task that really didn’t allow for much
talking. “I bet this is exactly how your mom thought this would end. That’s
the problem with you sluts— you put value on your bodies when, really, your
worthless personalities cancel it out.”
Her eyes boggled when I pulled the trigger, retaining a glimmer of life for
a fraction of a second, and the stench of shit and piss wafted up. I stood up
and stepped back, scrunching up my nose in disgust as Marcella tumbled
lifelessly to the floor, and blood bubbled up from the hole in her head.
Careful not to get blood on myself, I retreated to pull out my phone, and a
soft knock echoed through the apartment.
Using my jacket to twist the doorknob, I frowned as Theo craned his neck
with a disapproving expression.
“Really, Carlyle?” Shooting me a sour scowl, he rolled his eyes when I
shrugged, holding my phone to my ear as I breezed past him and out into the
hallway. “I told Illya it’d be a few hours. What the fuck am I supposed to say
if we go back early?”
“Let’s grab a bite. I have some things to work through because of this.”
The line picked up before Theo could open his mouth again, and I held up a
finger. “I need a moment of your time, please.”
2

Carlyle
Tapping my foot absently as I scanned the culmination of a week’s worth of
Illya working diligently, I grunted lowly. She hovered around me like a fly,
but I didn’t try to swat her away. After all, she was anxious about today
despite my many, many attempts to tell her it didn’t matter. Her interview
was a setup, but she insisted on going through with meeting these guys.
I didn’t understand why, and I didn’t particularly care if she wanted to
torture or validate what she was indirectly responsible for.
“Based on the financial records you gave me, it’s exactly what I expected.
It’s mostly Oran and your father who got the brunt of the scheme.” I only
nodded, and she dropped heavily into the kitchen chair with a sigh. “I need a
week of sleep to get over all the crap spinning in my head.”
“That’s fine, Illya. Your next assignment isn’t for thirteen days. I want
you to succeed, so take whatever time you feel you need.” I’ll admit, I had a
huge soft spot for Illya, and she smiled gratefully at me as I tossed the sheath
of papers on the table. Frowning under furrowed brows, I rolled my jaw as I
scanned her through narrowed eyes. “You look tired. Has Oran been giving
you any trouble?”
“Uh, not really. I hate his attitude, but most of the time, it’s not directed at
me.” Her grumble pulled a chuckle from my chest, and I propped my arm
behind my head as she sunk into her seat a little. “I wish he’d leave. Your dad
is lovely, though. You’d think with him being a sociopath and stuff, he’d be
less . . . nice and . . . I dunno . . . approachable.”
“He does have that effect on people, Illya. Don’t get too comfortable with
him, though. He’s just as likely to turn on you as be nice to you.” Oran and
my father were leaving in a few days, and I, personally, couldn’t wait for
them to stop criticizing my every move. I could sneeze, and Oran would tell
me I didn’t do it right. “You seem a lot more upset about these five men
interviewing you than kidnapping the daughter of a mafia don even though
the same thing will happen to all of them.”
“It’s been a long time since I had to use these kinds of skills, and they’re
my peers. In some messed up way, I want their approval. Also, I’m the one
who figured it all out. What if they know? Even though nothing will happen,
it still makes me nervous, thinking something could happen because of what I
know.” Her worries were valid, and I couldn’t help but smile when she sat up
with a huff. “I still want Theo there, just in case.”
“I’m fully prepared to let you have that. What about the princess?” Truly,
Illya worried about the weirdest shit, and she shrugged carelessly at my
probe. Glancing down at my watch, I stood up and pushed the chair in even
though she stayed seated. “It’s about time we go introduce you.”
“Does it make you mad that you got duped for more than two years?”
Lifting herself up as she posed her question, Illya’s tone dribbled with
curiosity, and I rubbed my jaw thoughtfully. We headed out of her apartment,
and I opened the door for her as my mind ticked around in circles.
Of course, I was pissed, but the fact of the matter was I’d known about it,
at least had an inkling something was amiss. My suspicion coincided
perfectly with finding Illya, and then, I just needed an in to get her on board
with me. It helped a lot that Oran, despite being near the center of everything,
didn’t realize something was going on with the translator's bank accounts
until about seven months ago.
Humiliating him was just too good an opportunity to pass up.
“I suppose it evens out. Money’s not an object for me, but the disrespect
they showed me is about to get repaid ten-fold. This sets an example as if
there was any need for one. It’s been a long, long time since I personally
intervened in drudge business, but I’m actually a little excited. I know my
father puts his faith in me, but this just helps cement it. As you’ve said all
along, Illya, I minimize my need for translators, so the fault for this whole
thing lies squarely on Oran’s shoulders.” A malicious glee bubbled up like tar
in my chest at my own words, and I nudged her gently with my elbow with a
happy sigh. “That being said, I don’t want you traumatized unnecessarily
because you insist on meeting them. You’re not going to watch the live-
stream, and I really don’t see the point in actually having an interview, Illya.”
“I just want to know I’m not shit after all these years, Carlyle.” That was
exactly the answer I expected her to give, and my smile widened on the way
down the hallway. “It’s their fault for trying something, no matter how
sneaky or creative it was. Crime never pays when your boss himself is a
criminal.”
“Hey, hey, hey, you say that like it’s a bad thing!” I couldn’t help myself
as I laughed, and she shoved me playfully, with a little scowl. “No, but
seriously, Illya, how is meeting them going to help you?”
“Assuming they won’t speak English at me, it’d be a good test. I thought
after I work up enough, maybe you’d be willing to ship me off to Europe?
I’ve got Spanish down packed, but the rest . . . I’ve never actually been to
Russia or Italy, and I want to know how I stack up.” The none-too-subtle hint
of going abroad didn’t escape me, and I hummed in acknowledgment. It
wouldn’t be too bad an idea to ship her off, and it’d be beneficial to me in the
future.
“We’ll talk about it when the time comes, sure.” Bobbing her head
happily, Illya practically giggled a hum, and I put my hand gently on her
shoulder. Goosebumps prickled up my arm under my shirt, but I tried to beat
down the roiling in my stomach at the memory that flashed behind my lids
when I blinked. “It’s almost the end of August. How long has it been since
you’ve seen the snow?”
“Um . . . Carlyle . . . ” The sudden gravity in her tone stiffened my
muscles with my thumb on the elevator button, and Illya turned to me under
furrowed brows. “It’s about Theo.”
“What about him?” Theo never talked to me about Illya, and she never
talked to me about him, and curiosity arched my brows. “Is this about when
you drove his car and—”
“Uh . . . no. You said a few days ago that this job is about both of us, but
so far, you’ve only talked about my part.” The expectation in her tone drew
down my eyebrows, and I cocked my head as I punched the elevator button
without looking away from her.
“We’ll talk about it after your interview, Illya. I want to get this out of the
way. You can decide when, but for now, it’s not very important.” The doors
slid open just as I finished speaking, and I smiled reassuringly as I propped
my palm on her crown. “One thing at a time.”
“Okay.” I gestured her into the elevator with a slight shake of my head,
and Illya huffed softly and wiggled her shoulders. Truth be told, I didn’t want
to tell her any more than she had to know. Her job was simple— find a
specific bitch and drug her, and Theo would handle the rest. The Italian
Mafia and I were on alright terms— not exactly good, but not too shabby,
either— and I didn’t want to waste this opportunity.
To crush them under my heel.
Who the fuck did that crusty, old bastard think he was, telling me he’d
sell me his daughter? I sure as fuck wasn’t going to pay money on a deal that
did nothing for me. Not to mention, she had a reputation for being a spoiled
bitch.
No, thanks. I’ll take a rain check.
“Theo should already be there. Don’t be too nervous, Illya. You’ll do
great. I have the utmost faith in you.” Steering my mind off that trail, I
pressed my palm against the small of her back, and Illya took a stabilizing
breath. The elevator jostled to a stop, the doors sliding open again to lead
down a hallway that would eventually bring us to the bridge. This warehouse
had to be entirely remodeled, but I kept the original design because having a
bridge was friggin' cool, in my personal opinion.
Nodding to herself, Illya strode a little steadier, and my smile faltered as I
turned my thoughts to what came next.
3

Carlyle
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I’ll admit, your little scheme was
inventive, but I’m honestly curious what you thought would happen.”
Leaning against the table, I frowned as Jerome simply glared at me silently,
but his normally dark complexion was a pasty pale. “The errors in the
transcripts idea was smart. I’ll give you that. If only you’d hid your ‘secret’
bank accounts a little better.”
“We’re about to go live, boss.” Pursing my lips thinly as I glanced behind
me, I nodded curtly, and Jerry held up his hand to count down on his fingers.
I stood out of the shot, of course. The last thing I needed was to be identified.
It didn’t stop me from being here, have any reflective surfaces removed, and
enjoying myself.
Well, enjoying that I’d finally caught these guys— torture was a bit in
bad taste. I had no problem killing someone outright, but it took a special
kind of person to enjoy torturing, and I wasn’t that.
Jerry is, though, so it’s all good.
Gesturing to him, I sat on the table fully and crossed my ankles. The
responsible thing to do right now is, at the very least, to watch what was
about to happen. My father always said no to make someone do something I
wouldn’t do, but in this business, underlings were important. There was no
getting around that fact, and the happier I kept my employees, the better work
they did for me.
Obviously, not these five translators, but the rest of them were happy with
their jobs. Of course, they all understood who they were working for and not
to cause trouble.
That was the point of this, to not cause me trouble because it’d be nothing
compared to what I would do. Millions being stolen from me, my father, and
my brother . . . that part didn’t bother me. I despised the gall, the absolutely
huge ballsack, it took for someone to actually do it.
What’s more was the simple fact that this wasn’t about a confession. I
knew all I needed to at this point.
Although, Illya had seemingly astounded herself with how much she’d
retained. My mind flung back to barely half an hour ago, and I could picture
her strutting around all happy with herself. She did fantastically, and it was
almost poetic the songs of praises these men gave her on her accent, dialect,
and complete understanding of the language. I hoped she found the validation
she wanted, because the things I had planned for her were no small feats, and
I wanted her to excel.
A faint whimper broke the silence, and a harsh, metallic grating gyrated
against my eardrums to break my reverie. Focusing on the panic dripping
from Jerome’s upper lip, my eyes narrowed into slits, but he just hung his
head in defeat.
How boring was that?
Jerry checked the computer one last time, offering me a nod at my silent
question, and I leaned back to take a deep breath.
“Why’d you do it?” Breezing past me with a pair of pliers dangling from
his fingers, Jerry’s question bounced off the concrete. Jerome didn’t twitch at
the abrasive sound, and I scanned him from head to toe. The guy had
everything going for him— a pretty girlfriend, international travel, money in
the bank. He wore nice suits and had someone else clip his toenails, for
Christ’s sake . . . yet, it wasn’t enough. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I don’t care
why you did it.”
I kinda want some pizza. Apparently, even this satisfaction couldn’t keep
my attention for more than a few minutes, and I sighed in defeat of my own.
Hopping off the table, I left the room and quietly shut the door behind me.
The basement of my headquarters was mostly storage unless I needed a room
or five for things like this. Walking the bland, concrete hall towards the
elevator, I stuffed my hands into my pockets and tossed back my head to
groan lightly.
“As if it’s anything I haven’t done before . . . ” My mumble smacked me
back in the face, and I rubbed my jaw before punching the button with my
thumb. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I quietly debated dialing Theo’s
number as I waited. “I mean, I do have other security.”
Illya is probably fucking him right now, anyway. Shaking my head
slightly, I stuffed my phone back in my suit pants with a sigh. It truly was too
bad Marcella couldn’t keep her mouth shut— I liked her enough to screw
around, to actually take time out of my business to mess with her.
Granted, that didn’t take much, but it was what it was.
Riding up to the ground floor, I headed out to the parking lot and pulled a
pack of smokes out of my jacket. Glancing up as I sparked my lighter, my
eyes followed the line of the sun rippling against the brick until nothing but
shadow remained. Pretty soon, the trees would start changing color, and the
grass would start dying.
“Are you already done, boss?” My gaze flickered to Carl as he sauntered
over, and a slight smirk twitched my lips. He flipped back his long, Fabio-
esque hair before pulling it into a ponytail, and I took a deep, toxic drag off
my cigarette. “Where you wanna go?”
“I was thinking of grabbing pizza. I’d order in, but there’s no fun in that.”
Light, brown eyes danced with amusement when they caught mine, and Carl
nodded firmly.
“I know a place.” Carl was only twenty-two years old— younger than
Mateo— but he was a damn good driver, and he pulled the keys out of his
jeans to twirl them on his finger. “Not bringing the freak today?”
“I guess not. It’ll be nice to get out by myself for once.” Heading towards
the sleek, black four-door, I took another drag of my cigarette as I cast him a
curious glance. “What’s your beef with Theo, anyway?”
“You let him drive my cars.” Licking my teeth, I only shook my head a
little as I popped open the back passenger door, and Carl rounded the front of
the vehicle. He had a passion for cars, which was nice, but they were
technically my cars. Theo’s hand didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t drive,
either, but Carl worried about his toys. I kept my lips clamped around my
cigarette and didn’t reply. He was young, and if he was gonna be possessive
about something, at least it was a car.
“Did those guys say anything?” Shaking my head at the question, I rolled
down the window a crack as the car revved to life. “I heard one of the maids
talking about how they communicated through transcripts. That’s super
weird. I would’ve never thought about that.”
“What do the maids not talk about?” Maybe Illya’s right, and I should
swap them out. The maids were always talking, always sharing information,
but I didn’t necessarily want to get rid of them just for that. I’d had the same
team for years— years— and none of them had ever leaked information
unless it was amongst themselves. True, it was nice that I didn’t have to keep
people up to date because the maids were talking, and most of the time, they
were accurate.
Pulling out onto the street, Carl set a leisurely speed, and I sat back in my
seat to suck on the butt of my smoke.
 “Do you ever feel like life’s dragging on and infinitely boring?” Tossing
the question out there, I held my breath for a long moment before exhaling
out of my nose. By all accounts, my life shouldn’t have been boring— I had a
job, I did things I enjoyed, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why
everything seemed so . . . mundane.
“Not really. To be honest, I enjoy being bored sometimes. Plus, there’s
always the option to do something new.” Smoke swept out the crack above
my head, and I propped my elbow on the window to hold my cheek on my
fist. “My girl likes doing fun stuff, so we always have shit to do.”
“How long have you been together?”
“A year and a half. We actually met at a rave. I did a line off her ass and
knew she was the one for me.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Carl
sounded so sure and proud, and he smacked the wheel to punctuate his point.
“She’s in school to be a nurse. Whenever we have free time, we get really
high and go for walks in Woodhaven.”
“That sounds very picturesque.” Carl started talking and talking and
talking, and I hummed and nodded as he went on about his girlfriend so
passionately. I didn’t mind it so much, and I watched the scenery roll by
through unfocused eyes.
4

Valerie
“Let me speak to the owner, please.” Slumping in my booth as the super old,
super ugly lady in the booth behind me so sweetly posed her question, I
covered my hands over my face. A foreboding groan bubbled up in my chest,
and a sourness coated my tongue when I peeked through my fingers. The
waitress bounced off, no doubt thinking she was going to get complimented
on her excellent service.
“Do you wanna leave before this starts?” Rolling my lips between my
teeth, I shook my head at Natasha’s cautious probe, and she frowned from
across the table. “We haven’t even ordered yet. We can just go somewhere
else.”
“I like this place, though.” My grumble earned me a scoff, and I glared
hotly at my sister as she flipped her long, dirty blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Where’d you rather go, Nat? I only have a half an hour lunch. I don’t have
time to go somewhere else.”
“We work together, you idiot. We have the same lunch.” Huffing loudly,
I crossed my arms over my chest even as my cheek twitched in an effort to
smile. Natasha grumbled under her breath, and I discreetly glanced over my
shoulder at the old woman waiting patiently behind me. She’d done nothing
for the past several minutes but talk crap about the waitress to her friend—
she’d gotten the worst service— her meal was ruined because, shocker, the
place was busy for the lunch rush! Not one thing did she say to the waitress’s
face, and she ate the whole damn pizza between herself and her friend. Her
white, curly hair and thickly wrinkled face betrayed the fact that she was a
witch, and I was so, so annoyed with this day already.
“You look like you want to punch her.” Frowning as I turned back
around, I opened my mouth to make a snooty comment when I saw the
waitress coming out of the kitchen. Her boss was obviously also the chef, and
I held my breath as I clamped my mouth shut.
If the old dust bags behind me asked for compensation and started smack
talking o the waitress, I was gonna lose . . . my . . . shit. Every single day for
the past week, these two ladies came in and did this two-faced act. They’d
apparently worked up enough courage to try this, and I was honestly curious
as to what would happen.
I’d been coming here for lunch— and breakfast and dinner, pretty much
— at least twice a week since moving here, and not once had I ever seen the
owner come out of the kitchen. And during the lunch rush, too.
“Oo-oo, hottie alert, Valerie.” Snapping me from my dark thoughts,
Natasha pointed through the swirling, glass divider at the door. My gaze
followed, and I pursed my lips thinly as a man and his buddy chatted up the
hostess. His light brown hair styled perfectly, his smile revealing small
dimples that framed his strong jaw. “I’d go home with that.”
“Yeah.” Broad shoulders flexed when he took off his jacket, and I bit on
my bottom lip absently. “I wonder where he works out? Maybe, I should start
going there.”
Shrewd, brown eyes scanned the restaurant, and my chest tightened when
they met mine through the polarized glass. His polite smile morphed into a
sexy smirk, and I tapped my feet against the floor absently. Super-hottie
alert.
A sharp scoff from behind me broke the intensifying moment, and I
twisted around sharply to watch the scene play out. The poor waitress clearly
didn’t know how to take such a second face, and the old lady started reaming
into her service. She talked so fast that I barely registered any single word,
and her old-lady wrinkles started to ripple with anger.
“Excuse me.” Goosebumps washed over my exposed legs and under my
shirt at the deep, rich baritone. Like thunder, it was powerful enough to cut
off the ancient bone pile. My eyes snapped past the waitress as she jumped in
surprise, and the guy I’d been ogling looked down his nose at her. For a
second, shocked tension thrummed through the air before he turned to the
owner, his eyes narrowing into tight points. “I don’t appreciate having to eat
around disgusting garbage.”
My throat tightened at how casually he spoke, and my breath caught
when the owner seemed a little . . . unsure.
“Of course not, sir. I was curious what they were going to say,
considering they’ve been here for an hour and eaten everything in front of
them. I apologize for the disruption.” So much for the entertainment value of
these ladies getting kicked out. The thought struck me with a jolt of
disappointment, and I watched the elderly women get up huffing and puffing.
If the guy’s stare wasn’t so intense, they might’ve gotten into it with him. I’d
loved to have seen that. It seemed like my heart skipped a beat when that
gaze flickered to me, but he only cast me an appreciative look before turning
on his heel and walking back to his hostess.
“Um . . . sorry about the delay. What can I get you today?” I blinked hard,
tearing my eyes off him to focus on the waitress, and she held her pad and
pen poised expectantly.
“I’ll have some of that.” She giggled a little at my sigh, and I cleared my
throat before sitting up a little straighter. “I’ll have the chicken parm with
extra cheese and sauce.”
“Of course. And for you?” I didn’t catch Natasha’s answer when the hairs
on the back of my neck stood up, and I licked my lips heavily. “I apologize
again for taking so long. I’ll be right out with your drinks and make sure
you’re not late.”
“No problem. Those old ladies were witches.” Natasha smiled
reassuringly, and I ran my hand through my curls as the waitress flounced off
towards the kitchen once again. Casting me brows arched in knowing
curiosity, my sister propped her forearms on the table to drum the top with
her manicured nails. “Hot guy swooped in and saved the day, Val. Just your
type.”
“I know! I can feel him staring at me.” Frowning at the slippery smirk my
sister shot me, I slumped over the table and groaned softly. “If I didn’t have
to go back to work, I’d go over and talk to him.”
“I don’t think Paul would mind if you’re a few minutes late. Just say you
hit traffic.” Natasha sniggered at her own, stupid, joke, and my frown
darkened more in dismay than anything.
“We walked here. Jesus, Nat, that’s not funny at all.” I would not look
over despite the ache in my eyeballs, and I scrunched up my face as Natasha
laughed in earnest. “And you called me an idiot.”
“You’re younger than me.”
“By six minutes! That’s not fair!” My eyelid twitched when she snorted
lightly, and I huffed as I covered my face with my arms. “Go away. I’m tired
of you.”
“Just face it, Valerie. We were together in the womb, and we’ll be
together in the tomb.” Shivering dramatically in faux disgust, I shook my
head. I sat up, and my sister smiled broadly with merriment in her eyes even
as they slid past me. “You should go over and give him your number.”
“Oh, yeah, why don’t you go and give him my number?” Natasha and I
were fraternal twins, but sometimes I just wanted to break her nose. Her
smirk turned innocent, and I opened my mouth to say something before the
waitress appeared by my side with our drinks. “I’m not going over there.
We’ve lived here for almost a year, and I’ve never seen that guy before. He’s
probably not sticking around until the weekend, anyway.”
“Who? That’s Carlyle.” Chiming in as she set my drink in front of me,
the waitress downright grinned at my surprised squeak. “He lives just outside
the city. We deliver to him all the time.”
“I thought you didn’t do delivery, only take-out?” Confusion laced my
tone, and she nodded firmly with a slight shrug as she held her little tray
against her front.
“He’s the only one we deliver to. He always has massive orders and gives
huge tips. Every once and a while, he’ll come in, but I haven’t seen him in a
few months, myself.” I couldn’t help myself from glancing back, but Carlyle
was engaged in conversation with his friend. He was so handsome, and I
pursed my lips thinly as my mouth watered.
5

Carlyle
A soft knock on the door drew my attention from my laptop, and I stood up
from the sofa to set the device on the coffee table. Numbers flashed behind
my eyes when I blinked, and I rubbed them with loose fists before shaking
my head viciously.
“What is it?” The barrier swung open to reveal a worry-faced Jerry, and I
leaned on the frame with a frown deep enough to drag down my brows.
“What happened downstairs?”
“It’s not that. I took care of that.” My eyes narrowed on him, and he
rocked back on his heels as he took a shuddering breath. “I need a couple
weeks off. My—”
“Go ahead.” Jerry deflated like a popped balloon, and I clenched and
released my jawfor a few moments as his breathing returned to normal.
“Whatever it is, I don’t care. Update me on when you’ll be back when you
can, Jerry. Did you call in your partner?”
“I’m about to do that right now, yeah. Thanks, Carlyle.” Watching him
turn and hurry towards the elevator, I crossed my arms over my chest as he
fumbled with his phone. His hands shook bad, and I wondered what could’ve
happened that got him so out of sorts. Of course, his mom could be hurt or
something, but beyond that vague thought, I didn’t care.
What Jerry did or didn’t do when he wasn’t here wasn’t my business. As
long as it didn’t affect me, he could have whatever life he wanted.
“Boring.” Maybe, nothing held my interest because I didn’t care. Shutting
the door, I rubbed my palms up my face and into my hair with a groan of
frustration. All I did was work. All I’d ever done was work. Everything I did,
I did because it was an extension of my job.
And, as much as I enjoyed hanging out with Illya, in the end, that was just
work, too.
“I should take Carl’s advice and go for a walk. I don’t have the luxury of
being distracted when we go to that party next week.” I cracked open the
door again, unhooking my keys from the hook on the wall before leaving my
apartment. Oran and my father were around somewhere, but the very last
thing I wanted was their big-ass noses in my business. Of course, my dad had
the right, but Oran just pissed me off. “I spend too much time alone because
of that bastard.”
He may be my brother, but I’d kill him if I could. All he managed was to
be a thorn in my side, and he was digging a little too deep. It didn’t help that
he didn’t seem as eager to leave as I was to have him gone. But, that’s what
he gets for being stuck so far up Dad’s asshole that he can’t do anything for
himself.
“Fuck.” Grumbling the slur under my breath as I emerged into the
courtyard, I unbuttoned my shirt before realizing it was dark out. Glancing up
at the half-moon hanging high, I scowled darkly. The days seemed to blur
together, move all too fast, and I headed for the gates to stuff my hands in my
pockets.
So much was going to happen in the next few months. I could feel Oran
was going to make a move. Illya still had to go through all the transcripts, but
I had a feeling Oran’s numbers wouldn’t stack up. Of course, I hadn’t told
him or my father what, exactly, was going on, but if Oran already knew . . .
Well, I guess that didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he could change the files
without my knowing. If he did, he was as good as dead, and he knew it.
Whether or not my little brother was involved remained to be proven, but
uncovering this scheme had set the wheels in motion. I didn’t know enough
to be sure, but I had a feeling he was working with the Italians. After all, why
the fuck would they invite me to a gala unless it was for some shady
dealings? I’d told that crusty, old man in no uncertain terms that he can shove
his proposal up his ass and clench. Why, after that, did he think providing me
an opportunity like this would be good for him?
Unless he knew I was going to kidnap and kill his daughter? Nah . . .
Those hypocritical bastards wouldn’t do something so brazen.
Not to mention I was doing them a favor, God damnit! That whiny, bratty
cunt got in everyone’s way, and the internal troubles the Italians were having
were being exacerbated by her. She needed to fucking go.
“Agh!” Ruffling my hair, I shook my head hard but couldn’t dislodge the
thoughts whizzing through my brain. It never fucking stopped, and I flopped
my head back to take a huge breath of cool, nighttime air.
Cars sped past me, erratic and flashing blinders, and I secretly wished one
would hit me. At least, then, things would be interesting. My chest tightened
from the breeze flowing under my shirt, and my shoes hugged the asphalt as I
paused to stare at the white line I followed.
“Hey, mister, are you okay?” Tearing my eyes off the paint, I frowned as
a shapely figure emerged from a sea of red. Heels clicked softly, and a
vaguely familiar face cast in cautious worry at me. “Are you alright?”
“I guess it depends on your definition of ‘alright.’” Shimmery sequins
reflected the brake lights shining out from behind her, and I scanned her from
bottom to top. Long, lean legs, nice dress and heels, her bust barely held
back. She was obviously on her way to a party. “You didn’t have to stop for
me. I’m just on a walk.”
“You’re the guy from the pizza place the other day!” Frowning, I only
jerked my chin at that, and her face cast in the shadows of a huge smirk.
“Wanna go party with us? My sister thought you were hot.”
“You’re inviting a stranger into your car?” She waved me off, stepping
out of the light to really let me get a look at her. Her long, dirty blonde hair
teased her breasts, and I frowned when she unabashedly grabbed my arm
with a little giggle. Someone pre-partied . . .
“It’s fine. It’s fine!” Gingerly taking my arm from her grip, I forced
myself not to roll my eyes as I helped her back to her car. I didn’t even know
her name, and she was inviting me out like we were pals. Popping open the
back door, I sat her down and glanced over the driver’s seat at the meter
running on a phone propped on the dash.
“At least you’re not stupid and drove yourself.” Buckling her in, even as
she tried to tug at my shirt, I grabbed her hands and put them firmly in her
lap. “Stay.”
“Valerie, you should get his number.” Making the mistake of glancing
over the back seat, I paused as those big, beautiful brown eyes widened in
mortification. So, Valerie’s her name. She’d been sexy in her feminine, white
button-down at the pizza place, and now was no different. A short pencil skirt
hugged her thighs, her thin, black shirt— the same style of professional but a
little more revealing— tucked into her thin waist. Clenching my jaw, I
straightened to shut the door and fish my wallet out of my pocket.
“Bring them back home.” The dude driving opened his mouth to protest,
and I flicked two hundred-dollar bills through the window with a sneer. “She
just tried to get a stranger into the car— what’s gonna happen when they’re
really trashed? Take them home.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine . . . fuck.” Stepping back as he pulled the gear, I glared
at the driver’s side while he pulled a U-turn. Waiting until they were out of
sight beyond a rolling slope, I heaved a massive sigh and shook my head
viciously.
Exchanging my wallet for my phone, I searched for Carl’s number before
holding the speaker to my ear.
“On my way, boss.” The call lasted less than three seconds, and I checked
the time with a frown from under furrowed brows. I’d been gone almost an
hour, and I’d been stuck in my own head for most of that.
“I really need to find something to do before I go crazy from boredom.”
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I gazed down the road with a knot of
regret grappling my gut. “Or someone.”
6

Valerie
Waiting in line for my coffee, I swiped around on my phone as the people in
front of me shuffled forward like zombies. Saturday night still made me sick
to think about, and I gulped back a groan. I shouldn’t have let Natasha get out
of the car, but I recognized those broad, muscular shoulders in a flash.
It’d been too long since I got laid, methinks.
“What’s taking so long?” Grumbling from beside me, my sister stuck her
big head out of the line, and I glanced up from my phone at the baristas
scurrying around behind the counter. “Excuse me, what’s going on? We’re
usually in and out by now. You guys are always on top of things.”
I could tell the compliment was meant to mask how irritated she was, and
Natasha’s question earned her several mumbles of agreement. One man
paused, his eyes widening when he realized how long the line had gotten, and
he set himself behind the register before I turned back to my phone.
“I apologize. We got a huge phone order. I’ll take the next person in line,
please.” Today hadn’t even started yet, and it was already going downhill.
Casting a curious glance at Natasha when she nudged my elbow, I pursed my
lips thinly at the glint in her eye.
“Are you grumpy because of Saturday night?” Not bothering to answer, I
only half-shrugged, and the bracelet on my wrist tinkled lightly. Sticking my
phone in my purse, I turned my attention to the menu as the line got
noticeably shorter. “Valerie, you can’t tell me that guy sending us back didn’t
make you swoon. Come on, be honest with yourself.”
“I really, really don’t wanna talk about it, Nat. You looked a fool.”
Carlyle’s voice, when he snapped at the Lyft driver, still gave me
goosebumps, and I crossed my arms over my chest tightly. “Don’t go around
thinking you did me a favor.”
“I saw him check you out.” Shooting me a smirk, Natasha jutted her chin
out, and heat crept up my neck as she nudged my side again. “If you see him,
get his number. Seriously. He thinks you’re hot, you think he’s hot . . . what’s
the harm?”
Before I could open my mouth to answer what, exactly, the harm was, the
front door chimed as it swung open. Everything stopped for a fraction of a
second as a huge dude with a scowl stormed around tables towards the pick-
up counter.
“Theo, you’re so scowly.” A pretty woman popped out from behind him,
and she smiled at the glare he shot her that’d make any man piss himself.
“It’s not a big deal. I’m here to help.”
Theo didn’t answer, only stopping his stomping as boxes of flaming hot
coffee were set on the counter.
“Do you need help bringing everything out?” I and everyone else watched
the guy hold up a hand with only had two fingers and a thumb on it, and I
covered my mouth to muffle my gasp. My chest tightened, and he stared
down the barista before turning to the woman standing beside him.
“You’re not allowed to help, and you know it. Grab the donuts.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave him a mock salute, wiggling her fingers greedily at
the five or six boxes piled on the counter. Prancing off, she held the door
open for the guy, who only held one box of beautiful, amazing, incredible . . .
ugh, I need coffee before I explode.
“I didn’t know you guys took phone orders?” Snapping out of my daze, I
shuffled forward as Natasha posed her question to the barista. Two
employees disappeared, helping to bring out the order, and I watched them
from the corner of my eye.
“We don’t. Every once and a while, we get an order like that, and the
boss says we gotta fill it. Anyway, what can I get you this morning?” I
couldn’t help but wonder if, like the pizza place, this coffee shop made an
exception for Carlyle. Putting in my order for a black brew with tons of
sugar, I stepped to the side as the woman came back in to grab more donuts.
“I wanna work where they work. Damn. No one ever buys me a donut
just for showing up.” Licking my lips heavily at the idea of a buffet table of
coffee and donuts, I meandered around the pick-up counter while my sister
nodded firmly. “I bet Paul would have a heart attack if he saw that next to the
computers.”
“Everyone needs graphic designers, Valerie, but not everyone treats their
employees super-duper.” Natasha’s voice got nasally, and I rolled my eyes as
she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’m telling you, you should quit. You
only took this job because you were too lazy to learn anything more than
HTML.”
“Me? You took the job because it was easy, Nat. Besides, what am I
gonna do instead? Pursue my dream to be a paper plane manufacturer?” Even
though she laughed, my sourness was real, and I snatched my coffee from the
counter to saunter out without her. Once I was on the sidewalk, I popped the
top and blew on the gorgeous, roasted brew, so dark that I could see my
reflection perfectly. “I spend way too much time with you, damnit.”
It wasn’t like I’d ever make any money off my art, anyway, and that was
really, really sad.
“I’m more likely to get hit by a paper airplane than sell something I
drew.” Lifting the cup to my lips, I shivered as the smell clogged my nostrils,
and my eyelids fluttered closed in a brief moment of bliss. Sighing heavily, I
fixed the top back on and ignored the slight burning of my tongue as it stuck
to the roof of my mouth.
“I’m just sayin’, Val, the point of coming out here was so you’d
eventually be able to paint full time.” Groaning loudly when Natasha
emerged from the coffee place, I stumbled away dramatically, but she simply
scoffed at my antics. “Don’t be a gloomy bitch.”
“Gloomy bitch? I’ll show you gloom.” Whipping around, I glared at my
sister before catching a flash of black behind her, and all my puff whizzed out
of my ears. “Oh, crap.”
“What?” The sun was low enough to cast a slight shadow on the
sidewalk, and Carlyle’s stretched as he leaned on the hood of a car. He
plucked a cigarette from between his lips to laugh heartily, and the fine hairs
on my chest stood up as the sound carried to me. “Oh, go give him your
number, Valerie.”
Just as Natasha spoke, Carlyle passed the girl that’d grabbed the donuts
his smoke, and I gnawed on my bottom lip as my face heated. She had green
eyes, but they could’ve been siblings, and they certainly seemed close as he
ruffled her hair.
Suddenly, light brown eyes met mine, and Carlyle didn’t give her so
much as a ‘be right back’ before striding down the sidewalk. Panic struck my
chest, and my lungs stopped working as embarrassment flamed my cheeks.
Did I look as jealous as I was? Oh crap . . . oh man . . .
“Are you following me?” Amusement thickened his tone, and I huffed as
my sister’s glare bored holes into my face. It did nothing to release the heat in
my cheeks, and he smiled politely even while his eyes scorched me from top
to bottom. “I don’t think we were able to introduce ourselves the other day.
I’m Carlyle.”
 “Valerie.” Thanking God himself that I didn’t stutter, I held out my hand
without thinking, and goosebumps swept up my arm when his palm pressed
against mine. His hand was so firm, so big . . . oh my God, no! “Um . . . a-
about the other night. I wanted to apologize for my sister’s . . . ”
My words died on my tongue when Carlyle started rubbing the top of my
hand with his thumb. His polite, slightly smoldering expression didn’t waver,
and I blinked hard before pulling back to grip the straps of my purse.
“I admit I haven’t been to a party I’ve enjoyed in a long time. They’re
mostly work functions. Next time, give me a heads up.” He talked so clipped
and proper, and a shiver lodged between my shoulders when he cocked his
head back a little. “Wouldn’t you need my number for that?”
“Oh, right. Yeah.” Now that he was so close, Carlyle was mesmerizing—
his eyes sucked me in, and an embarrassed giggle escaped as I fished my
phone out of my purse. “We usually party every Saturday.”
“I’ll clear my schedule.” Tapping away on the screen in a new contact, I
nodded before Carlyle was looming over me, and he tilted my phone down.
His face was so close that I could smell his cologne, and my eyelids fluttered
dangerously as I inhaled deeply. His soft hum of appreciation tightened my
nipples— from the screen or the peek down my shirt, I wasn’t sure— and I
glanced up from under my lashes. “I’ll see you Saturday, then, Valerie.”
I half-expected Carlyle to caress my cheek or something, but he only
stepped back and headed to his car. Holding my breath as they sped away, I
shivered with the effort it took not to look at the shiny vehicle as it passed
me. My heart thundered in my chest, and I turned to my sister in a daze, not
really registering her massive, shit-eating grin.
“I’m guessing I’m gonna be ‘sick’ on Saturday?” Blowing a gust of
breath, I nodded firmly, and Natasha giggled a little. “ Valerie’s got a da-
a-ate ”
7

Carlyle
Staring through narrowed eyes at the screen, I tightened my grip on the back
of the tech’s chair and scowled.
“What the fuck is this?” Mine was a stupid question. This video was a
warning and an artfully crafted warning at that. The leather chair creaked
faintly as my knuckles ached, and the tech guy played the video back from
the beginning. “Where’d this come from, Jerry?”
Jerry was, as I suspected, taking care of his elderly mom— how
stereotypical— and I turned to his replacement and forced my fingernails out
of the leather. This guy was just as good, but I liked Jerry, I had more
experience with Jerry, and he simply shrugged stupidly.
“Can’t track it down. I can search the actual footage itself, but it’s
probably proofed against anything distinct or recognizable.” True, there
wasn’t even a person in the video, just a cinder block wall, and I started to
pace as my mind whirled viciously. “From what I was able to understand
from Jerry before he went to Washington, I’d guess your best bet would be to
ask the maids. They seem to know everything.”
“The only person who knew about it was Illya.” Waving my hand
dismissively, I raked my fingers through my hair roughly as my thoughts dug
ruts into my brain. “Not a single other person knew about it. Play it again.”
“Mr. Syndicate. I know what you’re going to do on Friday. A little word
of advice . . . don’t.” That was all this shitty, five-second long video said,
nothing more— no flicker of light, just electric snow.
“Can you figure out the original voice, at least?” The guy sat back,
stroking his goatee as he hung his arm over the back of the chair, and I
resumed my pacing. “That could mean anything. Word has already spread
about that crusty old bitch’s proposal. I wouldn’t put it past him to lie about
my reaction. This is absurd!”
“You mean you’re not gonna marry her? That’s what literally everyone is
saying.” Guffawing in disgust, I shook my head, and he gave a little ‘huh’ as
if it was surprising. “Well, I did also hear she’s a raging bitch with a golden
spoon shoved up her ass.”
 “The gossip mill here is worse than an office building of bored, middle-
aged receptionists.” Rubbing my temple as bitterness dribbled from my
mouth, I leaned on the wall to blow out a stabilizing breath. “So, everyone
thinks I’m going to propose to her and get the Italians on my side. That’s not
really cause enough to send me a threat directly.”
“If it was me, I’d marry her, kill the old man, and take over.”
“Like fuck, I’m going to put myself through that for something I was
already planning to do anyway.” My snap only earned me another shrug, and
agitation tightened my chest now that I was standing still. Tapping my foot as
my mind buzzed behind my eyes, I shuttered my lids and scrunched up my
face with a groan. “Let me know if anything else comes through. I have to
talk to my father.”
Leaving the security room, I scoffed loudly as I made my way out into the
lobby. Most of my employees lived off-site, and I propped my elbow on the
secretary’s desk to hold my cheek on my fist. Watching them all scurry
around, trying to leave and beat traffic, my eyes narrowed into slits.
Who the absolute fuck thought they could get away with threatening me-
me!
“This wasn’t the kind of excitement I wanted.” My grumbling was lost
under two dozen feet, and I straightened to heave a massive breath. Heading
to the elevator, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and surprise furrowed
my brows as the notification light blinked enticingly.
Valerie: That’s a super vague answer, but ok. Keep your mysteries.
“What am I supposed to say, huh?” My cheek twitched as I stepped into
the metal box, and I pressed my back against the wall to slump. Valerie
started texted me faster than I’d expected, which was a pleasant surprise, and
I closed my eyes to let her distract me from my current problem. I’d seen
many a beautiful woman, but there was something about her that made me
want to peel back those thin shirts and unzip that skirt.
Flopping my head down, I circled my thumbs over the screen of my
phone as I thought up a reply.
Carlyle: What else am I supposed to say? I own a business. There’s not
much else to say. I just manage everyone.
Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I waited for the doors to open
again, and Theo stood across the threshold. Before he could scowl nastily at
me, I gestured to follow, and my brief, digital exchange faded to the
background of my mind for the moment.
 “I have a job for you.” Crossing the bridge to push open my office door, I
sat on my desk and rubbed my face as stress tingled my fingers and palms.
“Go to New York City and tell Fabuccino that I accept his offer, and to
expect it on Friday. He’ll know what I mean.”
“Why not get one of your liaisons to do that?” How much should I tell
Theo? Frowning under furrowed brows as the question circled in my head, I
watched him roll his eyes with a scoff. “I don’t give a fuck why just tell me
anyway.”
“Someone sent me a threat to not do whatever I’m going to do on
Friday.” Theo and I were not friends, no matter how much I enjoyed picking
on him and how much he enjoyed being an asshole to me. His brows
furrowed gravely, and I cupped my chin as I slumped a little over my desk. “I
want you to go because I want you associated with agreeing, so when I snatch
and bag her, it’d be easier to make it look like she just ran away. It’s going
around that I’ll propose to her and get the Italians in my corner, which I don’t
need her to do that. That crusty, old bastard is more delusional than senile at
this point.”
“No one knows about your plan to kill her, but Illya, though, I thought.
That was the whole point of having me bag her after Illya drugged her.” My
cheek twitched at that, and I nodded as Theo rocked back on his heels to
bluster a breath. “Were you able to get anything from the video? Assuming
these guys have the balls to threaten you, it’s probably not traceable.”
“Jerry’s working on it.” I frowned under the thick crease between my
brows, training my gaze on a carpet fiber as I thought on it a little more.
“You know, this might not be a bad thing. If everyone expects me to marry
this bitch, and she ‘runs away’ . . . ”
“What did the guy call you in the threat?” The question threw me for a
loop even as I answered, and Theo cocked his head to show off his shiny scar
ripping down the side of his face. Truly, I was glad Mateo did something that
benefited me, even though he was still frumping and grumbling around his
apartment. I didn’t have a moment to get distracted, though, when Theo
opened his mouth. “Why’d he call you that?”
“It’s fucking obvious, Theo— because I run the show here.” He didn’t
flinch at my snap, and frustration boiled my lungs as I inhaled sharply
through my nose.
“You run the show here. How do you know that isn’t a threat directed at
your father?” That caught my attention, and I arched my brows quizzically as
Theo grunted to himself like an ape. “He’s here, and he knows everything,
right? Nothing goes on without his eye on it, supposedly. What if the threats
directed at him? Which means he’s got something in motion that you don’t
know about, Carlyle. I think you two need to get on the same page before you
start doing damage control.”
“Alright. Let’s go have a chat with Dear Old Dad, then.” Standing on my
feet, I left my office with Theo in tow, and the possibilities suddenly seemed
too many. I’d been too pissed off to consider that the threat wasn’t aimed at
me, and I raked my hand viciously through my hair.
My father had his hands full with Mateo’s sulking ass, and bitterness
clung to my ribs like sticky, hot tar. If the old man could feel anything for
anyone, it was Mateo . . . to a certain point. That little shit was the youngest,
and although far from infallible, he always got off light.
Scratching my cheek, I frowned against my palm and wished my phone
would buzz . . . but it didn’t.
8

Carlyle
Illya was leaving her apartment when I stopped in front of my father’s door,
and I gestured her wordlessly to me. For once, she didn’t open her mouth,
and I knocked hard as determination set my shoulders. Within seconds, the
lock clicked, and I managed a short exhale before the barrier swung open to
reveal my dad with a tie hanging uselessly down his chest.
“What happened?” Stepping through the threshold, I scowled when I saw
Oran hunched over a laptop on the sofa, and our dad breezed past us when
my brother looked up. “Get out, Oran.”
He didn’t object— the tone our father used was warning enough not to be
a little crapheap, and I hoisted myself up onto the small ledge between the
kitchen and the living room. Waiting for the door to shut, I rubbed my neck
and rolled my shoulders as stress tightened my skin and wedged between the
blades.
“Are you planning anything on Friday night? I received a threat titled
‘Mr. Syndicate’, and it could be about either of us.” For the first time in a
long time, my father seemed genuinely surprised, and he scowled darkly.
Seating himself on the couch, he crossed his legs and pressed a thumb to his
temple as expectation hung heavy in the air.
“What did the threat say, exactly?” Repeating the message dutifully, the
roiling feeling in my chest intensified as my father swore under his breath.
“Well, I guess the secret’s out. I’m handing you control of everything on
Friday, Carlyle.”
Stiffening as shock bolted through me, my jaw slackened stupidly, and
my brows nearly flew off my face even as my father laughed humorlessly. He
stood up, smoothing his button down to start fixing his tight as he shook his
head. My mind stalled in the tense silence, and the atmosphere became
charged with electricity that crackled just above my head.
“I was going to wait a few more years, but with everything going on with
Mateo . . . You’ve been more than capable of handling the companies here in
the States. I’ve already got the transfers of ownership. All they need is to be
signed. It was supposed to be a present for your thirty-fifth birthday, but . . . ”
My jaw nearly fell in my lap at that, and my dad’s soulless, dark eyes met my
wide ones firmly. “I have no doubt the threat was directed at me, although
I’m unsure who would send it. A few people knew about my plans, including
Oran, but I never gave dates. I wanted you to go to New York City with
ammunition. The Italians are inconsequential rats who we don’t need
complicating our plans.”
“I’ll have someone investigate it.” Grumbling as my tongue stuck to the
roof of my mouth with disbelief, I covered my mouth to hide my frown.
“Until then, I have to figure out what I’m going to do about the Italians.
There’s no way in Hell I’ll ever get caught in the same building as that unruly
princess.”
“You’ll find a way, my boy. You always do.” Sauntering his flabby ass
over to clap me on the shoulder, my dad knocked the air from my lungs, and I
choked a little on my own surprise. He smiled, the first hint of real emotion I
didn’t know he had, and relief and pride flooded his otherwise threatening
gaze. “I always had such high hopes for you, and you never disappointed me,
Carlyle. Not where it counted, at least.”
“Mmm . . . ” Humming softly, I sat back as he resumed tying his tie, and
my dad cast me an expectant side glance. “I was planning on crashing that
party myself instead of sending a liaison, but considering this . . .
development . . . ”
“You should go to New York City to celebrate, anyway. You deserve it,
Carlyle, and then the real work begins. And by that . . . ” Leaning in with a
curious twinkle in his eye, my dad smirked knowingly. “It’s a lot more
boring, not answering to anyone.”
“Damn.” Scrunching up my nose, I bit back a groan, and my dad
chuckled softly as he tightened his tie. “Thanks a lot, Dad. All my life, you
told me never to care about anything, and now I’ll die of boredom.”
“I’m sure you’ll find ways to amuse yourself. Regardless, I do expect you
to do something about your brother. It was your idea to stick Mateo in
California, but you won’t be able to pull that stunt with Oran.” Arching
sharply to relieve the tension zinging up my spine, I nodded firmly, and my
father waved his hand dismissively. “Maybe he’ll get a girlfriend or do
something stupid, and you can force him out. I honestly don’t care at this
point. I’ve dealt with him trying to stick his nose in my business for a decade,
and I allowed it because I thought— hoped, really— that he’d be humbled.
Obviously, he hasn’t.”
 “I’ll take that as permission to shoot him if he deserves it.” Nodding,
satisfied, my father grunted lowly as the air cleared, and I hopped off the
ledge to clear my throat roughly. “I have a lot to think about. Jerry’s going to
try to get the original voice for the video, but don’t get your hopes up. Also . .
.”
“Son.” My father clapped his palms against my biceps, and I suddenly
felt like I was fourteen again as he stared directly in my eyes. “You don’t
have to tell me anything anymore if you don’t want to. You don’t answer to
anyone at all. You can do whatever you want; however you want, whenever
you want, and the only person that should influence your decision is you. I’m
old. I’m tired. I don’t care about what who does or why. So, whatever it is
that happens next is entirely up to you.”
My heart stuttered when his expression darkened, eyes sharpening, grip
tightening until his nails dug into my biceps through my shirt.
“Don’t fuck this up.” Nodding curtly, I pursed my lips thinly as a cold
sweat broke out under my shirt, and my dad released me to smooth his tie.
“Congratulations. Send Oran back in on your way out. I’m sure he’s lingering
with his ear to the door.”
In that second, my phone chimed shrilly, but I ignored it for the moment
as I turned on my heel and left. Carefully, oh, so very carefully, I blanked my
expression before opening the door, and Oran was leaning on the opposite
wall. Arching a curious brow, his eyes flickered between the three of us, and
I went to Illya’s place instead of my own just because it was closer.
There were several locks on the doors, but I was the only one who could
use the key card reader, and my hands shook as I swiped my master card. The
conversation with my father hit me all at once, and I breathed hot, heavy
pants as a huge grin threatened to burst my cheeks. Whipping around, I
grabbed her to twirl around, and an almost joyous laugh escaped past the
dense lump in my throat.
“Yes! Fuck! Yes!” Clenching and releasing my fists, I shivered with the
urge to hug Illya, and she smiled a little before holding her arms open.
“What the Hell?” I had to do something, and I palmed her head against
my chest as it heaved with exhilaration. My restraint even surprised me, and I
cupped her cheeks to press my dry, quivering lips to her forehead. Pressing
my cheek against her crown, I closed my eyes to watch the fireworks of my
excitement, and she sort of just stayed still. It was all I could do not to
squeeze her, and that edgy apprehension tinged the outskirts of my mind as I
struggled to contain myself.
“I’m really happy for you, Carlyle . . . but . . . you’re gonna squeeze my
brain out of my ears.” Sucking in a sharp breath, I leaned back at Illya’s
murmur, and she gripped my wrists tightly even as her eyes shimmered with
happy tears. “Congratulations.”
“I’m really . . . I-I’m . . . ” A laugh drowned out my attempt at words, and
I couldn’t stop smiling even when I licked my lips heavily. “I’m so glad I got
to share this with you. At least you understand the importance—”
“I feel really fucking left out here, Carlyle.” For the first time, maybe
ever, I looked over, and Theo was smiling— no matter how malicious it
might’ve looked— and I sniffed hard. Nodding firmly, I stepped away from
Illya, and we shook hands before he clapped me on the back. “Let’s go out
for dinner to celebrate.”
“Yeah. I need a minute, though. I’ll be outside in about half an hour.”
Rolling my neck and shoulders hard, I headed out of the apartment on stiff
legs, and I squeezed my eyes shut to take a shuddering, stabilizing breath. I’d
been born for this job— my dad never missed an opportunity to tell me that
my life was made out before I even came squealing into the world. He had
his fatherly moments, of course, but he always kept a glass wall between us.
That was never the secret.
The secret was that he was proud of me, and childish happiness bubbled
up to clog my throat. My father was such a good actor who sometimes, I
thought, the whole sociopath bullshit was just that . . . bullshit.
I cared about my achievements being acknowledged, and this . . . this was
the ultimate ‘good job.’ Jesus Christ. I’m thirty-one years old. I guess it
never really mattered how old I was. A father’s praise is still a father’s
praise.
9

Valerie
The wonderful scent of charcoal filled my nostrils even as I leaned back on
my stool, and I wiped under my eye to squint. Tomorrow, it would be
September first, and a Thursday, which was poetic because September
sucked and so did Thursdays. Weakly, the sun filtered down to warm my
crown, and I cocked my head as I gazed at the drawing of what originally had
been a swing set.
‘Originally had been’ because it ended up being . . . something else.
“Mm . . . ” Humming softly, I nodded happily at my own work. Rarely
did the things I intended to draw end up that way, so I tried not to get hung up
on it. The sun had been replaced by the moon, the swing set replaced with a
hanging porch swing of some sort. Honestly, I liked this one better than what
was in front of me, and I reached down with my free hand to grab my water
bottle. Pushing the page of my easel, I took a huge swig from my bottle and
glanced around the park through narrowed eyes.
My phone chimed, giving me a welcome distraction to the mundane
scenes around me, and I picked it up off my bag. Carlyle and I had been
texting back and forth about stupid stuff, flirting heavily, but he’d gone dark
last night.
Carlyle: sorry about not reply. I got a promotion yesterday, so I got
drunk.
The simple text brought a smile to my lips, and my thumbs hovered over
the touch screen for a quick second.
Valerie: congrats! How can you be promoted if you’re the boss?
He started typing back immediately, the little bubble flipping at the corner
of the screen, and I rolled my lips between my teeth in expectation.
Carlyle: I was just handling the stuff in the states, but I got promoted to
global. We do a lot of security contracts, building renovations, shipping. A
lot of government stuff that I’m not allowed to talk about.
“Ah.”
Valerie: I guess there won’t be much pillow talk, huh.
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I locked my phone when Carlyle didn’t start
replying instantly again, and I flopped my head back to blow out a breath.
“Val! I got you the chicken tacos.” Glancing up, I smiled gratefully as my
sister sauntered over with two cardboard boats of three tacos each. She
handed me mine, sitting down smoothly on the grass, and I slid off my chair
to cross my legs next to her. “I’m glad we took this day off. I really need it
after that shit that went on yesterday.”
“Paul’s just an ass. Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Natasha.” Picking
up my hard-shell taco, I scooped up lettuce threatening to fall out, and the
smell of hot sauce curled my nose hairs. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s a huge deal! That pig tried to mansplain how to build a shelf at me.”
The delectable crunch of my taco drowned out my sister’s complaining, and I
nodded around my mouthful. Of course, I was right there when this
happened. Natasha was complaining then, too. The shelves she bought for the
living room weren’t as easily assembled as was to be believed, and she
huffed as she pulled her hair into a tight bun. “I’m not an idiot— I know how
to connect A to B and twist a screwdriver.”
“I know.” Tomato and marinated chicken danced together on my tongue,
and I hummed happily at the party in my mouth. “At least he doesn’t tell you
how to do your job. Just drop it.”
“If it gets worse, I’m packing my ass up and getting a job somewhere
else. This city’s big enough, so it’ll be easy.” Rolling my eyes, I swallowed
my bite knowing damn well Natasha won’t quit just because Paul’s a bit
chauvinistic. “But, for real, I’m glad we took this day off. It gives me time to
interrogate you about this guy, Carlyle. Is that really his name?”
“Of course it is, idiot.” Flames licked up my neck, and Natasha hummed
before taking a big bite of her own steak taco. “I like his name. At least it’s
not Brad or Carl or Paul or something.”
“Damned right. It’s an old-fashioned name. Imagine moaning Carlyle
during sex.” Frowning when she shivered in abhorrence, I reached to pluck a
strip of steak off her taco, and she scowled at me. “Hey! I’m just sayin’, it’s
not a name you hear every day.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t care if you like his name or not. Anyway, that’s
not the point. He’s really hot, okay— that’s the point.” I couldn’t
overestimate how delicious Carlyle was, and I took another bite of my taco as
my sister leaned over the paper boat on her legs. For a moment, we were
quiet, and I relished it as I let my mind wander.
Truthfully, I only knew enough about him to think he was interesting—
enticing might be a better word for it, though. Every time I saw him or
received a text, an excitement gripped me in a vice, and I couldn’t explain
why.
“At least he’s more exciting than Trevor.” Bringing up my last boyfriend
soured my tongue, and I set down my taco to rock back on my arms. Staring
up at the blue, cloudless sky, I blustered a raspberry of a sigh through my lips
before parting them. “Who’ da thunk it, a quiet, safe guy like him cheating? I
always thought he was the kind of guy to ghost me rather than cheat.”
“Trevor was a little bitch, and you’re better off without him, Valerie.”
Glancing over at my twin as she frowned around her mouthful, I couldn’t
help but smile at how hard she chewed. “Only cowards cheat. Plus, he was a
loser. Loser plus coward equals . . . los-oward.”
Huffing a faint laugh at that, I sat up to take up my half-eaten taco, and I
scooped the contents that’d fallen out of the shell absently.
“It makes me think. You know, we talked about moving here for a long
time, but breaking up with Trevor was what made me make the decision.
Why did you agree, Natasha?” My sister shot me a wild look, her taco half
stuffed into her mouth, and I took a bite as a contemplative silence stretched
between us. I moved here because Trevor cheating on me messed me up, but
she didn’t have that excuse. I moved here to get away and focus on my art,
but Natasha didn’t have the ability to draw stick figures right.
“I moved here to get away from Mom, honestly. She was always hitting
me up for money— more than I ever admitted to you, Valerie. I couldn’t take
it anymore. That was why I suggested moving in the first place three years
ago. She’d just gotten out of jail, and I wasn’t going to fall into that trap
again.” My heart ached for her, and Natasha inhaled deeply through flared
nostrils as she met my gaze. “The more I said ‘no,’ the worse it got. Then,
right before Trevor cheated on you, she came into money. I don’t know how,
and I don’t wanna know how. I just know I had to get the Hell out of there.
Just because I’m six minutes older doesn’t mean I’m six minutes more
mature or anything.”
“I haven’t talked to her since we moved here.” Truth be told, I hadn’t
even thought about my mom since moving here. My last conversation with
her was right after I found out that Trevor had cheated on me. She called,
asking for money, and I told her to fuck off and hung up.
I wasn’t sure which was worse— knowing she didn’t call to talk to me
about anything substantial, or being relieved she hasn’t tried again.
 Before the conversation could get darker, my phone chimed insistently,
and I set down my taco to pick it up.
Carlyle: I doubt it. You said you worked with computers. Do you know
any coding?
My brows rose in surprise, and I pursed my lips thinly.
Valerie: not really . . . but my sister does. Why?
He started replying instantly, and I nudged Natasha with my elbow to
draw a grunt from her. Leaning over my shoulder, she swallowed her bite,
and I held my breath in expectation.
Carlyle: I need someone to write a program for me. For a good price.
“Wouldn’t that be awesome if he hired me? Say ‘yeah.’ I’ll do it.”
“You don’t even know what it is, Natasha.” Even as I protested, I shot the
text she wanted, and Natasha rested her chin on my shoulder. “Plus, why
would he ask you if he’s in a global company? Don’t they have people for
things like that?”
“Maybe he wants to impress you. Doesn’t take much.” Scrunching up my
nose at that, I shirked her off, and Natasha laughed as Carlyle’s next text
came in. “Oh, he wants to meet up tonight. Look up the restaurant.”
10

Carlyle
Standing on the sidewalk, I flicked my cigarette into the gutter as strange
anxiety burrowed deep in my gut. Jerry’s replacement couldn’t figure out
whose voice was on that threatening video but suggested adding a tracker to
the email to at least figure out where in the world it came from.
The only issue was that all code had personal quirks, and I needed to have
someone write that wasn’t associated with me.
“You nervous about your date?” Glancing over at Theo, I only shook my
head, but that’s probably exactly what I was feeling. I hadn’t been on a date
since high school, and that was just social awkwardness— and the potential
to have sex, of course. Since then, it’d just been the occasional hookup until I
realized I could just buy one off Wren.
Until Wren so foolishly got played by that desert snake.
“Have you taken Illya on a date yet?” Theo took his turn to shake his
head, and I arched a brow quizzically. “Why not?”
“Why would I bring her to a place like this when I can order in and fuck
her?” Rolling my jaw, I bopped my head in acceptance of that logic, and
Theo leaned on the wall with a grunt. “I’ll take her somewhere when I tell her
to marry me. Until then, it doesn’t really matter.”
“When you tell her?” A laugh escaped me, but Theo’s glare was very
serious, and I coughed to cover it up and stuffed my hands in my pockets.
“Fine . . . fine. I get not giving her the opportunity to turn you down because
she won’t, regardless.”
“Like fuck she would. I’ll kill her before I let her walk away from me.”
There wasn’t anything I could say to that, and Theo clenched his hand into a
tight fist as his right arm bulged slightly from the tension in him. “She
doesn’t get a choice.”
“It’s a good thing she loves you, then, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Yet. I could hear the hope in his voice. Theo was
helplessly in love with that little firecracker, and he wanted her love in return.
Clearing his throat roughly, he smoothed down the dress jacket he borrowed
from me and straightened his shoulders. “Anyway, I hope she’s not late. You
only rented the place out for three hours.”
“Now, who’s the nervous one?” Smirking at the nasty glare he sent me, I
chuckled lightly, and it almost felt like we were . . . pals. Rocking back on
my heels to sigh, I let the silence stretch, and Theo didn’t try to revive the
conversation. My mind roamed to why I’d arranged this in the first place and
the why underneath that reason.
Things like this took time, I knew. Chances were, I’d be sitting around
with my thumb in my ass for a month. If I got lucky, Valerie’s sister would
put a rush on it, but I didn’t want to wave money in her face and demand.
Just as the thought entered my mind, a car drove up to the curb, and I
stepped forward to pop open the back door. The woman who’d stopped me
on the road last week stepped out first, and I held my hand out for her as a
sleek, black heel touched the pavement. They had to be close in age, they
looked so much alike, and I smiled politely even as the knots in my abdomen
tightened.
Valerie’s smooth heel was enveloped in dark red leather, and she
emerged from the back of the car to show off long, beautiful legs. She and
her sister were the same height, but Valerie’s legs looked so much better.
When I blinked, I could picture them wrapped around my waist. The sleek,
black dress hugging her thick curves and clinging to one shoulder was
dressed in sequins that shimmered under the yellow lights illuminating the
entrance to the restaurant.
Luscious, mahogany waves tumbled down her back, and I squeezed her
fingers as she straightened. Bright brown eyes twinkled with flustered
merriment, and Valerie’s cheeks tinged pink as I scanned her from top to
bottom. Everything in me screamed to push her back into her Lyft and fuck
her like she so obviously wanted, and my palm tingled against hers.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” Licking my teeth hungrily, I
held my smirk at bay when Valerie giggled breathlessly, and I held out my
elbow for her to take. Her sister took my other side, and I cleared my throat
roughly as I struggled to keep my head on straight. “I appreciate you going
out on a limb for me.”
I couldn’t even look at the sister as I addressed her, and I gazed at Valerie
out of the corner of my eye on the way inside. The hostess was ready to seat
us. Shit, everything should be perfect considering how much money I was
dropping to rent this place. Tension ate up the oxygen, but the heat sizzling
against my right side kept me going on the way to the booth. Around us, the
restaurant was eerily quiet, and anyone not working had been packed away in
the kitchen or something, completely out of sight.
“You must be a very prominent member of the community for everyone
to bend over backward for you the way they do, Carlyle.” Sliding into the
booth, Valerie’s sister smiled with excitement brimming in her eyes, and I
simply shrugged carelessly. Holding Valerie’s hand as she slipped into her
seat, I couldn’t resist watching her tits jiggle before seating myself next to
her. Menus were placed down, but I didn’t have a chance to pick one up
before the woman across from me spoke up. “I don’t think we’ve introduced
ourselves. I’m Natasha, Valerie’s twin.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Natasha.” She reached for a shake, her perfectly
manicured, dark blue fingernails scraping against the back of my palm, and I
nodded firmly. “Again, I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me. I know it
must seem a little unorthodox considering I already have a department
dedicated to this kind of thing.”
“I was wondering about that, yeah. Is there any reason you couldn’t use
one of them?” I knew I had to be as truthful as possible without revealing
exactly why I needed this program written, and Natasha’s eyes narrowed on
me shrewdly. “Some backwater website designer writing a program that’ll
strip voice modulations. It’s a strange request.”
“I understand. However, it’s more of a personal endeavor, and I don’t
want to burden my tech team more than they already are. You mentioned that
you graduated from Georgia Tech?” She arched a thin eyebrow, and I
propped my elbows on the table to hold my chin on my clasped fists. “All I
need is a program that’ll allow me to figure out the original voice, or close
enough to it to be viable.”
“I mean, I can definitely write it. It’ll probably take a while, though. At
least three weeks. It’ll have to be paired with other audio software, too,
probably, if you want it fast versus comprehensive.” Nodding firmly, I wasn’t
surprised by that, and Natasha picked up her menu to glance at the wine
selection plastered on the front. “I’ll only be able to work on it while I’m not
at my actual job, unless you have a contingency plan for that, too?”
“Natasha.” Holding up my hand at Valerie’s aghast attempt at a scold, I
leaned back against the booth to stare levelly at her sister.
“What do you have in mind?” I’d spend any amount of money to get this
shit over with, and Natasha’s dark eyes flashed in surprise at my question.
“As much as I hate saying this, money isn’t an obstacle. You work for a small
website company. Did you want to come work for me instead?”
Relief wasn’t a good word to describe the rush that shot through me when
Natasha shook her head. I didn’t want them working for me. That created
snarls, and I was on the cusp of something really big and really bad. For a
moment, she was quiet, and I glanced over at Valerie as irritation tightened
her features. My palm moved on its own, wrapping around her inner thigh
under the hem of her short dress, and those big, brown eyes flew to mine.
Silently, I shook my head just a little, and she seemed to get the message
before her sister spoke up again.
“I’ll have to think about it more.” Natasha raised her hand to signal the
waitress, and I relaxed a little as Valerie closed her warm, fleshy thighs
around my fingers. “So, what are your companies all about, anyway,
Carlyle?”
“We operate in a few areas— shipping, government contracts on
production, and physical security. But for the most part, it’s really, really
boring.” Valerie’s skin was so smooth, and I took my hand off her before it
went places that weren’t appropriate. “Being the boss means I don’t get
called in unless there’s an emergency, basically, and there’s never anything
happening because my employees aren’t idiots.”
“You said you owned a construction firm. You just really get around,
don’t you?” The conversation stalled a second as Natasha took it upon herself
to order a bottle of wine, and I spent that whole moment staring at Valerie
like a creep. She didn’t look away, and she grabbed my hand under the table
to press my palm firmly against her upper thigh. Her dress rose up, and my
lip twitched in a snarl as hunger clawed at my throat. The question hung thick
in the air between us, charged with electricity, and its double meaning wasn’t
lost to me.
11

Valerie
The wine, the amazing food, the general atmosphere all swooned in
my head, and I leaned heavily against Carlyle as we three left the
restaurant. His hard, warm body strained taut, and the bulge in his
pants fit perfectly against my ass. Thick ropes of muscle played
against my back, and I closed my eyes to savor the throbbing ache
between my legs.
“You’re not going to stop, are you?” There was absolutely no
way in Hell that Carlyle missed any hints I dropped— subtle or not-
so-subtle— and I shook my head. His grumble rolled down the back of
my neck, and a shiver lodged between my shoulder blades before he
firmly gripped my biceps and stepped back. Disappointment puffed
out my lips, and goosebumps blanketed my skin from the loss of his
heat.
Turning me around, Carlyle examined me under tightly knit
brows, and the alcohol and food in me made him glow in the blurred
string lights hanging above us. I wasn’t drunk by any means, but that
was the best wine I’d ever have the ability to drink, and the best food
I’d ever put in my mouth. I didn’t try to not let it affect me.
His face got closer, and my breath hitched before Carlyle brushed
his soft lips against my cheek. Pleasantness skittered across my face
and down my jaw, but he tightened his grip on me before I could
really process anything.
“Goodnight, Valerie.” Mumbling gravelly in my ears, his tone
twisted the knots in my core, and I bit down on my bottom lip as his
teased my earlobe. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“As much as I appreciate you being a gentleman, I really don’t
appreciate it.” Somehow, I managed to snatch his tie, and Carlyle
frowned as I tugged insistently. “Do you really think I’m not a slut
enough to screw around in the back seat?”
“I didn’t think you would when I brought your sister on a date,
and you just tagged along, trying to shove my hand up your skirt all
 night.” Carlyle didn’t sound judgmental. In fact, he sounded kinda
pleased at my efforts, but his frown didn’t lighten under the dense
crease between his brows. Scrunching up my face in distaste, I leaned
back and let go of his tie to huff softly. “I’m sure Natasha will come
down with something and be unavailable on Saturday, Valerie.”
“Of course, she won’t be available.” His lips twitched up at my
confirmation, and he cupped the side of my face to rub my cheek with
his thumb. The callouses on his palm told me he wasn’t nearly as lazy
as he tried to make himself out to be, and my eyelids fluttered closed.
“I’ll see you Saturday . . . every single centimeter of you.” I
couldn’t exactly fight that, and I nodded grumpily as Carlyle smiled a
genuine smile. Gesturing me to the waiting Lyft, he popped open the
door for me, and reluctance stiffened my knees. “For the record, I
didn’t think you were a slut at all, Valerie.”

“Coffee’s not gonna help you, Val.” Snapping me from my reverie, Natasha
shot me a sultry grin, and heat slithered up my neck as we waited for our
brews. “Do you know what kind of date you’re going on yet?”
“Hopefully, the hot and sweaty kind.” My grumble earned me a snort of a
laugh, and I crossed my arms over my chest to stop my nipples from poking
through my shirt. “Jesus, whoever would’ve thought it’d be this difficult?”
“Personally, I think it’s a good thing he doesn’t wanna jump your bones
at the first opportunity. I also think it was really cool how he rented the whole
damn restaurant just for us.” Those points, I couldn’t argue with, and Natasha
smiled wider. “I wonder if he has a brother.”
“If he does, he probably doesn’t stack up. Carlyle’s, like, perfect. I can’t
help but think there’s got to be something really deal-break-ery about him
somewhere.” Last night, after I had time to stew on it, I was actually kinda
pissed that Carlyle didn’t want to fool around in the back seat of his car. I
thought I looked great, and he did, too, judging by the size of the bulge in his
dress pants. Sighing irritatingly, I shook my head just as our cups were set
down, and I grabbed mine a little sharper than usual. “Maybe he’s got a
diaper fetish or something. It’s just too good to be true.”
“You should ask him next time you see him.” Horror clung to my ribs and
splattered on my face, and Natasha laughed as she threw back her head.
Weaving past the tables to the door, I emerged into the cool morning air and
let it suck the heat from my cheeks. “No, for real, though, I’ve been thinking
about last night, and . . . what if I asked him to buy out the firm we work at?”
“Why the Hell would he do that?” Popping the top of my black,
sweetened coffee, I blew on it as my sister shot me a snotty look.
“What do I have to lose if he says ‘no’? It’s an opportunity to not work in
a cyber sweatshop, Valerie. Plus, he can fire Paul’s disgusting ass, and maybe
we can even grow with a boss that actually cares about our opinions. Website
design is fine and all, but us employees do want to branch out into other
stuff.” Rolling my eyes at the mention of our supervisor, I took a sip of my
coffee to hide my frown. Natasha had a point, and she sucked her cold brew
up through a straw as we started walking down the sidewalk. “Besides, if he
says ‘no,’ no one will ever be the wiser. I mean, Carlyle could’ve contacted
anyone, but he asked you, Val. I don’t think it’s all that inappropriate to see
what we can get out of this offer. It’s just business.”
“Wow, okay. You can do the business, then. I don’t want any part of it. In
case you haven’t noticed, I’m gonna sleep with him, and that stuff doesn’t
mix well.” Even as I spoke, I couldn’t help but think Carlyle wasn’t the kind
of guy to do anything extravagant at the behest of someone else. Sure, he
rented that restaurant out, showed us a great time, and flirted with me a lot,
but the initial conversation with Natasha . . .
He didn’t make sure that place was empty just to have some alone time.
“Cool, because I’m gonna ask him.” That declaration seemed to end the
conversation, and I paused my strides to put the top back on my coffee cup.
“Today’s Friday, you know. What bullshit excuse do you think Paul’s gonna
come up with to keep us late?”
“Whatever it is, I’m not staying late. We don’t even get paid overtime.”
Our office was smack in the middle of downtown, and only a block or two
from the coffee shop. Rounding the corner, I could see the building poking
out from the skyline, and I ran my hand through my hair absently as dread
built in my gut. “Every day, I hate this job more and more.”
“If I could do anything, I think I’d make romance choice games.” My
brows rose at that, and I glanced at my sister as she shrugged. “I think it’d be
fun. I never really thought about doing anything differently, but if I ask
Carlyle and he says ‘yeah,’ then that’s what I would do. Plus, there’s a lot of
opportunity with app development, and I know some of the other guys want
to branch into that.”
“I guess so.” Taking a warming sip from my cup, I opened my mouth
again only to get cut off by a shrill ping, and I dug my phone out of my purse.
The ringtone started to blare, and a frown dragged down my lips when I saw
it was my mom’s number. “It’s Mom. What do I do? If I ignore it, she’ll keep
calling.”
“So answer it and tell her to fuck off.” Taking my brew from me,
Natasha’s expression soured, and I swiped the green button on the screen to
hold the phone to my ear.
“What do you want, Mom? I’m not giving you money, so don’t even
ask.” The line crackled harshly, and impatience simmered in my blood as I
rocked back on my heels. “Hello? I’m blocking your number.”
“I wouldn’t hang up just yet, darlin’.” A deep, malicious voice ripped
open my eardrum, and I tensed as the blood drained from my face. “Mom
here ain’t askin’ for money anymore. She owes me, so I figure why not just
skip the middleman and call you myself?”
“Who are you?” My voice trembled, but from fear or anger, I couldn’t
tell, yet. Maybe I was just shocked. Shocked by what? My mom owing some
nasty loan shark?
“Name’s Sander. I’m sure I’ll be seeing your fine-ass self soon so we can
discuss the terms of repayment.” Scoffing loudly, I decided on being angry,
and I tightened my grip on my phone as my anger spread through my
furiously beating heart.
“You’re fucked if you think I’m gonna repay Mom’s debt.” Natasha
gasped in surprise, dropping both our drinks, and I winced as scalding hot
coffee splattered my legs. “Fuck you. Don’t bother me anymore.”
I hung up, flipping my phone over to take out the battery and SIM card
and smashing it all on the ground. Red seeped into my vision, and I panted
with the force I used to smash my heel into the concrete.
12

Carlyle
“You look wonderful, Illya.” And she did, with her hair and eyebrows dyed
dirty blonde, her makeup done to elongate her face. Illya was almost
unrecognizable. She smiled happily, and I rolled my head back to frown at
the golden hue high above. “Don’t worry about anything. Just get to that brat,
get her drugged, and get her out. I have the utmost faith in you and also in
myself for distractive shock value.”
“You really hate this chick, don’t you, Carlyle?” Nodding curtly, I
sneered at the mere thought of how much I despised women like Isabel.
“How long have you been planning this?”
“Since her father offered to sell her to me about two years ago.” Tonight
was the night. I couldn’t even enjoy signing papers with my father because of
this bitch. Bringing my cigarette to my lips, I took a huge, toxic, relaxing
breath and held it as Illya rocked back on her heels. When I’d ordered
someone to do all the shopping for her, I’d taken her chest into account, and I
was surprised at how good she looked. The ocean blue color brought out the
fake blue of her eyes, rimmed in charcoal, and I exhaled slowly.
It was about time to hit the road. Those stupid Italians had decided not to
get together in the city, which made it easier for me. Admittedly, not all of
them were stupid, but the old man was senile, and his daughter was just
delusional.
I liked the son, though. He and I had done business before, although he
liked getting dirty.
“I guess we should go do this. You’ll get there first with Theo. Wait until
I arrive to do anything, though. Everyone will be falling over me, but Isabel
will try to be coy and wait.” Illya nodded, her up-do kissing her shoulders,
and I flicked my cigarette to crush the butt under my shoe. Catching her gaze,
I reached to grab her chin, but she didn’t flinch. “Don’t fuck this up.”
“Don’t underestimate me.” Smirking slightly, I rubbed her chin with my
thumb before letting go, and Illya turned to saunter towards the car. I watched
her go with a little swish in her hips and wondered how the fuck anyone
could ever agree to this scheme. She was a special breed, rare and invaluable,
and I was lucky to have her on my side.
But this test would prove whether or not that lucky would pay off.
Whether she succeeded or not was up to her, and if she didn’t . . . I may
consider letting her and Theo run off together. At the very least, it was poetic.
“Is something bothering you, boss?” Leaning on my car, Carl cast me a
cautious, curious glance, and I rubbed my jaw absently. My mind switched
from one woman to another, and my gaze trailed down to the cell phone in
his hand.
“It’s stupid, but Valerie doesn’t usually take so long to text me back.” His
brows rose in surprise, and I scratched the back of my neck as discomfort
lodged in my throat. “I don’t know if it’s because I sent her home last night
or not. She wasn’t mad, exactly, but she did pout a lot.”
“Uh . . . yeah . . . you know, I can only speak from experience, but if my
girl gets pissed at me, she never shuts the fuck up. Maybe she dropped her
phone in the toilet or something. Theo said they got pretty hammered.” I
grunted in acknowledgment, and Carl flopped his head back as he slipped his
phone into his jacket pocket. “We got together in high school, so, over time,
we learned each other’s quirks. The dinner went well, right? So, she could
just be talking with her sister and stuff and not wanting to be distracted.
That’s why my girl and I ignore each other when we’re at work. Otherwise,
we’d never get shit done.”
“Maybe.” I always thought the worst, but Valerie wasn’t involved in my
life enough to warrant it. Hopefully, it was something as mundane as Carl
explained. “You used to drag race before I hired you, Carl. What did your
girlfriend think of that?”
“She thought my reckless stupidity was a turn on. I don’t know why. I
mean, we’ve been together for going on five years, and I still haven’t figured
out why she puts up with my bullshit. I love her, and I would die without her,
but she confuses the shit out of me.” Carl shot me a boyish smirk, and I
frowned under furrowed brows. “And by ‘die,’ I mean I’d slowly starve to
death because she’s the one with all the takeout numbers, and I can’t cook for
shit.”
“Clearly, she holds all the cards.” Sauntering towards the car, I shook my
head at Carl’s affirmative noise, and I opened the back passenger door to
slide in. My mind churned with the possibilities, and my driver smoothly
pulled out of the empty lot in which we sat. For once, he needed to drive the
speed limit, so Illya got there a good bit of time before us, and I pulled my
phone out of my jacket to check my notifications.
If Valerie didn’t text me back by tomorrow, I’d just have to assume our
date was off for some reason I’d never know.
Sifting through my contacts, I tapped the one I probably hated the most,
and my teeth ached as ringing trilled through the line.
“Lucky Lady Massage Parlor. Mandy speaking. How may I help you?”
“Yes, I need to schedule an appointment with the owner, please.” I got
put on hold, and my knee bounced as agitation tightened my muscles.
Memories played in my mind’s eye of the last time I’d had to do business
with this bitch, and I clenched and released my jaw sharply. Renting Marcella
just to blow her brains out because she tried to use them was going to bite me
in the ass now.
“Esmarissa.” She clicked her tongue ring against her teeth, and the sound
grated my ears as I cleared my throat roughly. “Oh, boy. I can’t wait to hear
this. Carlyle, you fucking killed one of my girls, and now you’re calling me
for another one?”
“I did you a favor, and no, I’m not calling you for another one. I want to
ask—”
“For my forgiveness!” Cutting me off, Esmarissa scoffed loudly, and I
rolled my eyes as I took a breath through flared lungs.
“No. I deal with your bitchy ass because it’s easier than shutting you
down. Don’t forget that Wren Lockhart worked for me, Esmarissa. I’ll
fucking kill every one of your girls if the mood fucking takes me.” Finally,
she shut the fuck up and let me talk, and I exhaled a calming breath as I sat
up a little. “Now, as I was saying, I want to ask when your next trip to New
York is. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“You know better than to ask that. Tell me when you’re available next—
or, better yet, have Mandy tell my secretary, so I don’t have to listen to you
until I absolutely have to.” Hanging up on her, I tossed my phone next to me
as I lost my battle with my scowl, and I ran both my hands through my hair
roughly. That fucking snake— I couldn’t fucking stand her, but she took over
fair and square. Unless she did something I really couldn’t abide, I was stuck
with her. “Fucking cunt.”
“Why did you call her of all people?” Speaking up from the driver’s seat,
Carl caught my gaze in the rearview mirror, and I scowled darkly.
“Because I’m going to fuck the Italians in the ass, and I need someone to
fill the vacuum. Since those greasy, babbling drunks work mostly in girls, I
want her expertise on it. Maybe, I can snatch Mandy while I’m at it. That
cunt knows her place, at least.” Why did all the women around me suddenly
seem so fucking intolerable, and the one I actually enjoyed talking to
disappeared?
13

Carlyle
Why are the Italians so damn gaudy? The question had no answer, and I hid
my scowl as I stared at the obscene, ugly mansion I’d been invited to. Wide
columns swirled with gold inlay, a huge staircase leading up at least a story,
and every single light on. It reminded me a lot of that rehab center Mateo
liked.
A disgusting display of wealth. How anyone finds this shit attractive to
the eye, I will never know.
“Is she in?” Glancing at Theo as he materialized next to me, I pursed my
lips thinly when he nodded mutely. “I guess we’ll just have to watch The
Lion King next weekend.”
“You may be the new king of crime or whatever, but that gives you no
right to reference Disney.” Smirking at the gruff, totally serious grumble, I
only shook my head before Theo caught my gaze. “It’s been twenty-eight
minutes.”
“Right on time.” These damn Italians always had a reason to get fancy
and waste money. I took the steps up to find several people waiting at the
door. Someone to take my coat. Someone to give me wine. Someone to suck
my cock and another to feed me grapes off the vine. Wait a minute . . .
I really need that night off tomorrow.
An absolutely enormous chandelier swung from the ceiling, and I ground
my teeth at the superficial laughter and fake tits around me. No wonder the
Italians were into sex slaving so heavily— they coveted physical beauty and
spit on everyone else. Glancing around, I couldn’t identify Illya in the crowd,
but I hadn’t hoped to spot her.
Who I did see, however, was Isabel in a sleek, beige cocktail dress that
really flattered her figure. My skin crawled under my three-piece suit when
her eyes found me, and I made my way towards Diamon— as in ‘diamond’
without a ‘d.’ The irony.
“Carlyle!” Forcing a polite smile onto my face, I grabbed Diamon’s
outstretched hand as he practically bellowed to echo off the high ceiling. He
and I were about the same age, but the excess of wealth clearly showed on his
pretty face. “I wasn’t sure you were going to bother. I know this isn’t your
scene.”
“I’m waiting around for the old man to die. Maybe, it’ll be tonight.” A
couple laughs surrounded me as a swell of people gravitated towards me, and
Diamon grinned unsuspectingly. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Theo
tilted his head back with his signature sneer, and a malicious satisfaction
rippled up my sternum. “So, how has business been lately?”
“It’s been fine. I’ve had some contention with my father, but I doubt his
stubborn ass is going to keep over any time soon.” To her credit, Isabel didn’t
push and shove her way over, but her slinking through the dozen or so people
around me arguably was better for me. Theo watched her like a hawk,
waiting for her to get a little too close, and I nodded as her brother opened his
mouth to continue. She stepped over the imaginary line, and Theo stepped
between us when she reached for me to grab her wrist and twist.
Isabel’s horrid, shrill shriek almost burst my eardrum, but I didn’t bother
containing my wince to hide my smirk. She sunk to the polished floor,
holding her broken wrist, and her long, silky black hair fell over her
shoulders. For a heavy moment, no one did anything, and I had to admit, if
she kept her mouth shut, she was very pretty.
If she kept her mouth shut and her head down, so no one had to see the
ugliness of her expression ballooning with self-righteous entitlement.
“How dare you!” Her head snapped up, and Isabel’s mascara streamed
down her face even as her lip curled into a nasty snarl. Narrowed, blue eyes
focused on Theo, and one of her cronies came rushing over to help her to her
feet. Illya appeared out of nowhere and just smacked Theo right in the face,
and my brows rose in surprise as Diamon hissed beside me. The ex-Marine
seemed to grow, and a fraction of a second slid by on pins and needles as
they glared at each other.
“You’re gonna pay for that.” Watching them, knowing they weren’t
fighting their anger as everyone else thought, I almost laughed as Illya spat
the threat. Her eyelid twitched in agitation, and she turned on her heel to help
Isabel to the corner of the room.
I guess . . . it was their party, so the Italians didn’t expect anyone to try
anything?
“Go to the car.” Dismissing Theo just as planned, I waved a hand at him,
and he frowned darkly. “I’ll deal with you later.”
He whipped around and stalked off, and I turned back to Diamon as Illya
walked a crying Isabel out a side door. That bitch’s bitch brother started
laughing, and I shook my head at how simple stealing her was turning out to
be.
“Man, you’ve got no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do that over the
years. At least I got to watch.” A cautious look flickered on Diamon’s face,
and he gestured me to follow him away from the crowd a little. “To be
honest, Carlyle, I didn’t believe for a second that you’d taken my father’s
offer, but it did worry me. Why did he offer it in the first place? Why Isabel,
when no one can stand her? Why not make a deal for my other whiny little
sister that might actually have a chance?”
“I hadn’t thought about it, Diamon. Why do you ask?” Shit, not more
layers of intrigue . . .
“You’re obviously aware of what happened with Wren Lockhart. He was
one of you. He and Isabel were in ‘love.’” Scoffing uncontrollably, I pursed
my lips and clenched my jaw hard even as Diamon rolled his eyes. “Trust
me, I know. The point is, ever since he disappeared, Isabel has been
whispering in our dad’s ear, trying to get into your operation. I’m pretty sure
that’s what Wren’s job was supposed to be, but, obviously . . . ”
“I didn’t know he disappeared? Last I was aware, he was nursing his
pride in a stable of million-dollar horses.” Either way, Wren was
inconsequential. I didn’t need him, and he’d proven himself to be unreliable
at best at covering his tracks. If that desert snake could uncover dirt on him,
who knew what else was floating around about him. Nodding firmly, Diamon
seemed to think on what to say next, and I frowned under furrowed brows.
“What, Diamon?”
“I had heard Isabel talking to someone about him, and how was she
supposed to get information about you and your operations now that he was
gone. I know my sister and I really, really doubt she’s some mastermind,
even if she thinks she is. I tracked the phone number to southern Texas.”
“Texas? What the fuck does Texas have to do with any of this?”
Apparently, that snake and I have more to talk about than I thought.
Covering my mouth to hide my frown, I nodded gratefully to Diamon, but he
was a fucking idiot, extending this kind of olive branch at me. “Give your
father my regards. I’m leaving.”
Before he could continue, I turned on my heel and shouldered through
people unabashed, and I pulled out my phone to text Theo not to do anything
too bad.
 This simple killing was now an interrogation, and I didn’t usually get
personally involved, but . . .
Isabel messed with— and Diamon trusted— the wrong man.
14

Valerie
“Paul, okay, no offense, but I really have to get going on these designs. I’m
working a Saturday, and I have a date tonight, so . . . ” Holding my forehead,
I glared at my keyboard, and my supervisor stopped talking just long enough
for me to sigh heavily. “I know how to use the software. It was a requirement
of being hired.”
“Your last renditions weren’t up to par. I just don’t want you to have to
do it again.” Lifting my head, I frowned sourly at my boss for a long second
as several pairs of eyes watched us none-too-discreetly. He’d called everyone
in on a Saturday for no real reason, and we weren’t paid overtime. This sucks.
I have more important things to worry about.
“Why don’t you do my job, then, since you know exactly how to make it
turn out the way the client wants.” Standing up from my chair, I grabbed my
jean jacket off the back and my purse from under my desk. “I quit. I can’t
stand you anymore. All you do is talk, and I’m tired of hearing you.”
“Valerie . . . ” Holding up my hand sharply, I downright glared at Paul,
and alarm lengthened his features as I tucked my purse under my arm with a
huff.
“No. I don’t need you to tell me I’m wrong all the time about simple
things. If they’re so easy, you do it. Good luck. I know how to use
Photoshop. I know how to layer images. Let’s see how good you do it since
you always have to point out that you’re a Certified Adobe Technician,
which, by the way, isn’t a real thing. I checked.” He went a little red in the
face around his goatee, and I stepped away from my desk, exhaustion
dragging my feet. “Bye.”
I was so beaten down by the past few days, and Paul called after me as I
stomped out of the office space and into the stairwell. Breaking my phone
had been a mistake, I had a burn on my leg from the coffee, and I didn’t want
to be here, anyway. I hadn’t slept because all I could hear was that ugly
Southern twang, and . . .
“Ugh!” My frustration echoed as I stomped down the concrete steps, and
I rubbed the butts of my eyes into my eyes. That jerk had called us so late
that I couldn’t even put on any makeup, and I felt as horrible as I must’ve
looked after twenty minutes of being told how to wrongly do something.
Leaning on the cold wall, I closed my eyes and shuffled to press my back
against the blocks, but it did nothing to cool the frustration simmering in my
blood. High above me, the stairwell rattled with the shuffling of feet, but I
ignored it for the moment to breathe deep, stabilizing breaths.
I apparently couldn’t get laid, and now, I was probably unemployed. This
week sucked.
“Valerie, wanna go eat your feelings? It’s on me.” Cracking open my
eyes at my sister’s offer, I nodded as she and two other guys came waltzing
down the stairs. Natasha smiled at me, but I couldn’t find the energy to return
the gesture as she swung her arm over my shoulder. “It’s fine. Paul’s a jerk.
It’s a shame because it wouldn’t be a bad job if he wasn’t there.”
“Please, the job would still suck regardless. This wasn’t what I signed up
for when I moved here. I found an ad for this place on Craigslist, and they
made it seem like this was an app development company that made websites
on the side.” Echoing Natasha’s idea from the other day, Marshal shook his
head when I glanced over at him. “I wonder what Paul’s gonna tell the
owners when he has to explain why three-fourths of his workforce quit.”
“Who cares— let’s just get something to eat right now. Food makes me
feel better.” For once, Natasha had a good idea, and we shuffled down the
staircase to the ground floor side exit in relative silence. I’d been really angry
when I broke my phone, and I hadn’t thought about the consequence, like the
fact that I didn’t know Carlyle’s number and couldn’t reach him. We were
supposed to go on a date tonight, but now, I had no idea what was going on
with that.
“I’m so screwed.” Leaning my head on Natasha’s shoulder, I groaned
loudly, and she rubbed my back absently. “What the Hell are we gonna do?”
“I really don’t care right at this moment, Val. I’m just hungry. I’ll feel
better after I eat.” My sister nodded more to herself, and a low chuckle
accompanied her words from behind us.
“You know, we could always start an app development company
ourselves. We’ve got the skills, and now we got the time.” Fred scoffed at
that, and I glanced across the road as we hit a crosswalk. “What? It’s a good
idea. Apps make a lot of money.”
“You know damned well that we’ll be homeless before we see a single
cent, Marshal. Besides, what kind of app would we develop, anyway?”
 “Let’s make a horror decisional game.” Groans of foreboding all around,
I felt kinda out of the loop for liking that idea, and Fred rolled his eyes out of
the corner of my eye. “What! It’s a good idea! It has a direct market—”
“Halloween is in a month and a half, basically. There’s no way we’d get
it out in time, and it be good, yo—” Fred’s chastising Marshal fell short when
a car pulled up in front of the crosswalk, and confused silence thickened the
air. The door popped open, and surprise nearly yanked my brows off my face
when Carlyle stepped out. He looked a little haggard, but he still smiled
warmly at me to dry my mouth.
“What a coincidence. I was just scouring the city for you, Valerie.” His
deep voice wrapped around me wonderfully, and goosebumps pocked my
skin as he scanned the people beside me. “You all work together?”
“We did. We just quit. Staged a mass walkout against stupidity and
inflated ego.” Carlyle’s expression masked in quizzicality at Natasha’s reply,
and my heart fluttered when he reached a strong arm to stroke his jaw.
“What’s up with you?”
“As I said, I’ve had a bit of a stressful day myself, and you’re not
replying to my texts.” Turning his attention to me, his eyes narrowed as he
frowned, and flames licked my cheeks as my heart raced against my sternum.
“Do you have a moment?”
“Um . . . yeah.” Taking Carlyle’s hand, I walked a little ways away from
my sister and ex-coworkers, and his face drenched in expectation when I
faced him. Opening my mouth, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and
he squeezed my fingers as I searched for the right thing to say. “Okay . . . so,
the basic explanation is my mom called me, and I got really mad and
smashed my phone because she just makes me so pissed off. The only time
she ever contacts me or Natasha is when she wants money, and this time she
wanted a lot of money.”
Well, that could be true or not— I hadn’t stayed on the phone long
enough. I assumed that if the debt was enough to warrant calling ‘family,’ it
had to be quite substantial. Carlyle didn’t bat an eyelash at my explanation,
and embarrassment stained my cheeks at his steady gaze. The quiet became
uncomfortable, and I raked my free hand through my hair to get rid of the
tingles.
“Okay.” Confusion knit my brows, and Carlyle nodded in acceptance
despite the gravity dragging down his features. “So, you and your sister are
out of a job now, correct?”
 “Yes.” Hanging my head in defeat, I rocked back on my heels to bluster a
hot breath as memories of Paul’s stupid ass flooded my inner eye. “That jerk.
If he thinks he can do my job better than me, then he should. I don’t like the
job enough to put up with him anymore.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be open to a proposal?” Carlyle practically purred
the word, and my abdomen twisted as the sound banished all the horribleness
of the past two days. Biting my bottom lip, I pulled his hand to my hip, and
desire tightened his jaw when I pressed up against him.
“Does it include a sexy maid outfit?”
“I’ll add it to your contract, not your sister’s.” For the first time in a
couple days, I smiled, and a breathless giggle escaped me as Carlyle’s fingers
crept around my lower back. “Would you mind if I joined you for lunch?”
“It depends on what you want to eat.” The appreciative glimmer in
Carlyle’s darkening gaze ignited the fire that’d sparked at dinner the other
night, and he rocked back on his heels to hum thoughtfully. “You can make it
a light lunch, and you can come over for dinner tonight.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer, Valerie.” Just before grabbing my ass, he
pulled back, and I frowned when he stepped away from me to clear his throat
roughly. Desire shimmered in his eyes, but he somehow managed to beat it
down to open his mouth. “First, I have a proposition for you and Natasha.”
15

Carlyle
My mind whirred along fast, processing this hastily prepared sale’s pitch, and
I had to admit, Natasha was doing a pretty good job. I’d driven here, but the
four of them opted to walk to get their shit together, and it showed. Leaning
back in the circular booth, I cupped my chin as she concluded, and my
thoughts pounded against the backs of my eyes.
I didn’t care what they were selling— I was going to buy it anyway. I
wanted the points with Valerie, but also . . . they actually had some good
ideas for a plan concocted in about six minutes.
“Sure. I’ll do it.” Muted enthusiasm and excitement thickened the
atmosphere, and I exhaled through my nose as Natasha practically bounced in
the booth. “I expected something like this, given your complaints about your
boss at dinner the other night. However, I have one stipulation. You’re now
out of a job, Natasha. Write the program for me before you do anything else.”
“I’ll start when I get kicked out tonight.” Nodding at her slippery smirk, I
ignored the underlying tone to hold out my hand, and she jumped to shake it.
“Thank you for taking a punt on us, Carlyle.”
“I may be paying for it, but whether you succeed or fail is your own
decision. We’ll hash out a contract when you’re finished with my program.”
Squeezing my palm, Natasha simply nodded again, her eyes sparkling a
duller version of Valerie’s, and my gaze flickered to her. She’d had a slice of
pizza and then nibbled on the crust for the duration of the lunch, and I pursed
my lips against my smirk.
“Okay, well, I better go let my boyfriend know I won’t be getting paid for
a few weeks. Thank you for lunch, sir.” Fred, I thought, shuffled out of the
booth, and I tilted my head in acknowledgment before he left the restaurant.
The other guy just got up and walked off, maybe sensing he was no longer
wanted around, and I propped my elbow on the table to hold my chin on my
fist.
“Is your mom the reason you moved here?” Okay, so the issue was more
complicated than dropping her phone in the toilet and less complicated than
Valerie ignoring me for not sleeping with her. I got that. She slumped in her
seat in reply, and I frowned under furrowed brows. “Where did you live
before going to college? You two went to different ones, I remember.”
“We grew up in Dallas. I swear, if I ever hear that stupid drawling twang
again, I’ll explode. I hate the South. There’s nothing but bigots and racists
and wannabe country music stars.” Hiding my alarm, I nodded as Valerie’s
tone turned bitter and sharp. Fucking Texas . . . again? I haven’t even started
interrogating Isobel yet. “She got in some trouble with a gang while she was
in jail when we were in college. When she got out, the only reason she talked
to either of us was for money. The call I got the other day, I don’t know, It
just made me more angry than usual. She hasn’t called me in over a year.”
“Right.” Shaking Isobel from my mind, I focused instead on Valerie’s
cute, although genuinely upset, expression. Reaching to cup her cheek, I
brushed my thumb along her smooth skin, and she gulped noticeably against
the butt of my palm. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”
“Is there any particular reason you lay it on so thick, and then don’t fool
around with me?” The incredibly direct question rose my brows, and Natasha
choked on her pizza from across the booth. Valerie’s beautiful, brown eyes
glimmered with all seriousness, and I tapped my own cheek absently. “If
you’re not gonna screw me, what’s the point?”
“The point was to have you stone-cold sober, but I’m not going to ‘screw’
you.” Trailing my fingertips along her soft jawline, I gripped her chin hard,
and she gasped as pink tinged her cheeks. My eyes narrowed on her as I drew
her face to me, and she held her breath as her eyes melted into pools of liquid
chocolate. “Don’t be bashful, Valerie. I’m going to fuck you, and you
shouldn’t go on violent rides while drunk.”
“Oh . . . ” Her eyelids popped open, her little sound caressing my ears as I
sat back, and she sunk down to hold her cheek on her forearm on the table.
“You have a point, I guess. Anyway, it wouldn’t be too bad an idea to keep
you where I can see you until I get a new phone.”
Chuckling at her husky grumble, I only shook my head as strange
pleasantness flooded my chest. I almost felt, dare I say it, relaxed. Turning to
Natasha as she stared decidedly at her plate, I reached for my drink to take a
sip before speaking up.
“Regardless . . . ” Clearing my throat roughly, I watched in amusement as
Natasha glanced up warily. “I want this arrangement to work out for you two.
If your mother or anyone on her behalf starts giving you trouble, let me
know. I’ll deal with it.”
 “I have no idea what her debt is right now, but like fuck are you gonna
pay it for us.” I cocked my head at Natasha’s snap, and she scrunched up her
nose in disgust as she slopped her pizza onto her plate. “There’s no point in
paying that off if we’re just gonna owe you.”
“Why would you assume I would pay it off rather than pay those rats a
visit myself?” Valerie lifted her head to cast me a questioning glance, but I
held Natasha’s gaze as it widened in surprise. “You don’t honestly expect
that one, you would owe me in the first place, or two, I wouldn’t protect my
investments. If you’re afraid, you can’t do a proper job for me. I won’t allow
that.”
“What are you gonna do, bring the almighty wrath of your bodyguard’s
scowl down on them?” For a second, my gaze flickered to Theo as he did just
that— scowl nastily— and I shrugged as I sat back in the booth.
“I’m not offering, Natasha. You work for me now, and I provide well for
my employees. Under certain circumstances, that includes providing
protection in whatever form it has to take.” Gesturing to Theo, I didn’t look
away from her, and she didn’t drop her gaze, either. “I would never waste
money when it’d cost less on airfare.”
“If Mom does throw us under the bus, I’d rather be in debt to Carlyle than
on the run for my life forever.”
“That’s just because you wanna bone, Valerie. It doesn’t count.” I
smirked at Natasha’s exasperated sigh, and Valerie stuck her tongue out
childishly in response. Grabbing her purse, the elder of the two shimmied out
of her seat with a huff. “I’ll go get my laptop and get started on your
program. You two are suffocating, anyway.”
“You’re suffocating . . . suffocatingly prudish.” Valerie had to get the last
word in, and Natasha rolled her eyes before strutting out and not looking
back. Almost immediately, she wiggled her juicy ass over to me, and I
ground my teeth when she put her palm right on my crotch. “Seriously, you
don’t have to go that far. We’ve dealt with it before, and we’ll deal with it
again.”
“Something you’ll find about me, Valerie, is that I don’t appreciate
people that mess with my property.” That sultry look on her face shot straight
to my cock, and I inhaled a deep, calming breath through my nose. She
squeezed, put a little pressure on her arm, and I rolled my shoulders as her
warm breath rolled down the collar of my shirt.
“I’m just a thing you own?” Her tongue snuck out to flick my jaw, and a
shock rippled down my neck. I’d almost forgot what it was like to have to
work for it, and the satisfaction of that work paying off. Soft breasts pressed
insistently against my bicep, and she parted her thick lips in a slight sigh.
“When was that decided?”
“About half an hour from now.” My murmur floated between us as
Valerie stroked my cock outside my pants, and I reached to boop the tip of
her nose. “And you say I’m the one who lays it on thick.”
“Since we’re gonna do this, I’m clean, and I’m on birth control.” She
squeezed a little tighter, put on a little more pressure, and pressed against me
a little more while I hummed in acknowledgment.
“Well, I guess that makes two of us.” Her brows wiggled in surprise, and
I grabbed her hand to pull her knuckles to my lips. “I got snipped. No kids for
me, ever.”
“Oh, man, you can’t get more perfect, can you?” The eye contact we’d
shamelessly been maintaining this entire time intensified, and I was almost
disappointed she didn’t climb in my lap. Valerie puffed a sigh, her lips
brushing against my chin, and a hard shiver lodged between my shoulder
blades.
16

Valerie
Carlyle kicked the door shut, and the sexual tension that’d been building up
the past few days started eating away at me. Gasping when he grabbed me to
whip me around, I melted into hard, hot muscle as my fingers fumbled with
his belt. Fire climbed up my torso from deep in my abdomen, and he stomped
forward to force me back. The first flat surface we hit was the kitchen table,
and I let out a yelp when he picked me up to sit me on it.
Harsh pants dried my mouth, and Carlyle gripped my button-down in
white-knuckle fists to pop the buttons. Cool air rushed up my sternum, and I
pushed down his pants to palm his glorious, fat cock. His hot breaths tickled
between my breasts, and he ducked to lather my neck in scalding, open-
mouthed kisses.
“Ah . . . fuck.” Hissing when I squeezed his shaft, Carlyle pushed my skirt
up around my hips, and my thighs quivered with expectation. His teeth
scraped my pulse point, and I moaned in wanton desire as he throbbed in my
palm. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I unbuttoned his shirt with hasty,
trembling fingers tingling with the need to touch his smooth skin. Easily
shirking the fabric with a heave of his broad shoulders, he pushed me back
onto the table before reaching behind him to pull off my heels.
“Oh, my God.” Carlyle was covered in tattoos. Okay, not entirely
covered, but there were more than I could count at that moment. My eyes
widened to soak up the glorious sight, and I reached to palm his rigid pectoral
muscle and the expert tiger face snarling back at me. “Wow.”
Sleeves of tattoos wrapped around toned arms almost to his wrists, but
everything was so easily covered by a shirt. For a second, I forgot our
compromising position, and I sat up to trace the 3-D Black Widow spider
perched on his shoulder.
“Like it?” He sounded so smug, and I nodded dumbly as big, warm hands
grappled my thighs. “Where’s your room?”
“What? Oh . . . ” Pointing absently without taking my eyes off his
beautiful, rippling ink, I had to force myself to not blink or I’d miss
something. “Second door on the left. I do like it . . . a lot.”
 “Good. You’ll be seeing a lot of it.” Huffing a small laugh, I craned my
neck to bury my nose in Carlyle’s shoulder, and he grumbled deeply in
satisfaction. Grinding against him, the friction buzzed between my thighs like
electricity, and I licked his taut skin hungrily. He shouldered through the door
and kicked it shut, and neither of us thought to turn on a light before falling
onto my bed.
My bra strained when I arched, and he nibbled down my neck and the
swell of my breast. Delicious shivers raked my spine, and my heels dug into
the small of his back as eagerness flushed my body. Unfastening the front
hook of my bra, he grabbed my hands to pin them on either side of my head,
and a breathless moan escaped me. The coarse hairs on his chest tickled my
skin, and he nestled between my legs to grind his hard, hot cock against my
panties.
“If I knew I’d be seeing you, I wouldn’t have worn panties at all.”
Shadows played on his face when he smirked, and Carlyle squeezed his
fingers between mine. Sweat beaded down my neck, my insides churning for
relief, and a lump of expectations formed in my throat. His palm left mine,
and a low, golden light illuminated his flushed face despite the shadows of
his sharp features.
Even bathed in light, he almost seemed . . . menacing. Dangerous.
“It should be a crime to be so perfect.” My murmur widened his smile,
and I bit down on my bottom lip when Carlyle pushed himself onto his knees.
“Call me a criminal, and you wouldn’t be wrong.” Hooking his fingers
under my bunched-up skirt, he pulled the fabric up my legs, caressing my
calves with his nails. “If you didn’t know you’d be seeing me, why’d you
wax your legs?”
“Why assume I wax my legs for your benefit? I’m the one touching them
most of the time.” Lifting my leg to brush his cheek with my shin, I couldn’t
help but giggle when he scrunched up his face. Sitting up, I pulled my legs
under me and pumped Carlyle’s cock, and he gathered up my hair with
trembling hands. My mouth watered as I peeled back his foreskin and licked
the spongy head of his rod to shiver at the salty tang.
“Shit, Valerie . . . ” Pulling my hair taut, Carlyle groaned and thrust his
hips, and I didn’t even try to be neat. Wrapping my lips around his head, I
closed my eyes to savor his taste, and he inched deeper and deeper into my
mouth. Gagging lightly when his head brushed the base of my tongue, I
grabbed his wrists and pulled down, and he reared back his hips. Managing
half a breath, my saliva eased his way, and my heart thundered in my chest to
the throb of his cock.
Carlyle was slow, almost gentle, savoring each thrust, and I picked my
head up to pant harshly.
“What happened . . . to that violent ride?” Gazing up from under my
lashes, a girlish glee enveloped me when his expression twisted with need.
Licking his lips, he tugged on my scalp, and I groaned softly as prickles shot
down my spine.
“Would you believe me if I said blowjobs aren’t really my thing?” My
brows rose in surprise, and Carlyle had the audacity to laugh. “I like it, sure,
but . . . ”
“O-oh well . . . good, because I don’t get anything from it. I just do it
because . . . that’s what guys like, I guess.”
“You’d rather get your back blown out than your brains?” Giggling with
a nod, I scooted a little closer, and Carlyle tilted my head back to kiss my
neck with a groan. “I can do that. Sit that juicy ass on my cock, Valerie.”
Untangling his hands from my hair, Carlyle leaned back as I turned
around, and I stuck my ass up to roll my hips. His thumbs slipped under the
line of my panties, and my core clenched as they peeled damply from my
center. Trailing his calloused palm up my back, he pushed my head into the
mattress, and I spread my legs to arch sharply.
Under his gaze, I smoldered, and Carlyle spread my ass cheeks to slide
his cock between my folds with an erotic gasp. My moan muffled in the
comforter, and his nails dug into my flesh as he swiped the head of his cock
down my slit. Until now, he was slow, sensual, almost, and I inhaled a
shuddering, shallow breath when he parted my folds with his thumbs.
Carlyle’s cock stretched my entrance, and I gasped and contracted as he
slowly sunk into my channel in one, smooth thrust. Clamping down on him
as I gripped the comforter above my head, I ground my teeth against the
pressure building behind my eye sockets. Hot palms imprinted on my hips,
and I moaned loudly when he ground his against my ass.
“Fuck, you’re so damn tight.” We reached the top— the clink-clink-clink
going eerily silent— that moment when there’s nothing but a drop. My heart
stuttered, and I tilted my head to take a breath into flaming lungs before
Carlyle pulled back to snap his hips without a resounding slap. What little air
I’d managed was pushed from my lungs as pleasure sloshed up my torso,
crushing all my organs, and a voracious, thundering growl rolled up my
spine.
“Oh God . . . oh God . . . God fucking . . . fuck me . . . fuck me!” Carlyle
set a hard, jolting pace, and I cried out as he stretched my walls to tearing.
His cock wasn’t huge, but it’d obviously been a long time, and even more
obviously, neither of us cared. He leaned over me to nibble my shoulder as he
fucked me like a bitch in heat, and I tightened around his rod. “I’m gonna c-
come . . . make me . . . make me come . . . make me come.”
“Valerie . . . ” Pushing himself up to brace his foot by my elbow, he
grunted with the force of his thrusts, and I moaned hoarsely. “Fuck . . . ”
The crack of his palm against my ass cheek set me spiraling, and I
spasmed around his cock as he jerked my hips back. Carlyle growled like an
animal as I came, stars bursting behind my shuttered lids, and I scratched at
the comforter in an effort to hold onto something.
“Harder . . . spank me harder. Oh, fuck!” Squealing a moan when Carlyle
smacked the same spot, tiny tears leaked from my eyes as I wiggled my hips.
My walls caressed his shaft as he pulled back, and I lifted my head to flip my
hair out of my face. Harsh pants tore from my lips, and a groan clogged my
throat when he grabbed a fistful of the strands and pulled.
My back hit his chest hard, and I choked on the air, rushing to fill my
lungs before he wrapped his hand around my throat. Hot breaths rolled down
my chest, and Carlyle reached between my legs to pinch and rub my clit as he
absolutely demolished my senses.
“Yeah-h-h, Valerie, fucking scream.” Turning my face into his neck, I
moaned shrilly with each jerk of his hips, and Carlyle’s palm left my throat to
grab my breast. I scratched at his sides, but if I dug too deep, he didn’t notice
as he pinched my clit and set me off again.
Sweat stuck our skin together, and I could feel Carlyle’s chest hair
peeling from my back when he pushed me down again. Jostling me onto my
back, he hooked my knees over his elbows, and I panted as he poised at my
entrance. Grunting gutturally as he thrust, he ducked to suck my nipple
between his teeth and nibble, and my toes curled from the rapture that
bombarded me.
The thick ridge and veins of his cock caressed my inner walls with each
undulation, and powerful prickles swept up my sternum. All I could do was
hold on, and Carlyle licked and sucked between my breasts before sucking
my left nipple into his mouth.
“This is my pussy now.” A tortured groan escaped me when Carlyle
pulled out, and I shivered when he hoisted my ass up and buried his mouth
between my folds. His slobbering, loud suckles, and grumbled of satisfaction
shot straight to my heart, and my thighs clung to his head as he tongued my
entrance. Twisting and tweaking my nipples as he lapped up my juices, he
dropped my body after a hot, breathless second to crawl over me.
I forced my eyes open, and Carlyle looked like the devil himself with the
shadows battling the light on his face. Cupping his jaw in clammy, shaking
hands, I licked my dry lips heavily as the graveness in his eyes struck me to
my core, and not the quivering one.
“Don’t bitches get along better with males, anyway?” My brows twitched
in surprise at my own rasp, but it seemed like that was exactly what Carlyle
wanted to hear. His expression tenderized even as it skewed from the closing
distance, and I gasped when he kissed my cheek so very nicely.
17

Carlyle
Smacking Valerie’s plump ass, I grinned when she whipped around at me
with her spoon raised threateningly. She didn’t say anything, though she
couldn’t, with all that grilled cheese in her mouth, and I wrapped my arm
around her waist to kiss her shoulder.
“Couldn’t help myself.” Grumbling around her mouthful, she turned back
to her incredibly late-night snack, and I left her be to hoist myself onto the
counter. “So, what do you have to do now that you’re gainfully
unemployed?”
“I’m gonna do what I should’ve done and focus on my art.” Swallowing
her bite, she leaned on the counter to stare at her sandwich, and discomfort
nearly shoved my heart into my throat. I didn’t want to stop touching her, and
Valerie was the first woman— ever, I thought— who I hadn’t just up and left
after finishing on her face. Reaching to brush the back of her hand, I clenched
my jaw when her head snapped up as if she forgot I was there for a moment.
“Uh . . . so, yeah. I’m going to try to sell my art. I only worked at that place
because Natasha got me the job, and we were kinda broke at the time.”
“What kind of art do you make?” Passion chased away the darkness in
her eyes, and Valerie took my hand to urge me off the counter at my probing.
Watching her ass jiggle in her booty shorts on the way out of the kitchen, I
grappled her hips to pull her against me. Inhaling a lungful of her musky,
sexed-up scent, I kissed her neck and shoulder, and she hummed so pretty. “I
bet you’ll have some inspiration after tonight.”
“Oh, totally. I’m gonna start drawing porn scenes.” Sticking my hands up
her camisole, I squeezed and kneaded Valerie’s tits, and they spilled out
between my greedy fingers.
“You should draw me like one of your French guys.” We walked down
the hallway, but Valerie opened the first door on the left instead of the
second. She flicked on the light, and I paused my shameless groping as I laid
eyes on the magnificence that was her studio. Drawings of mundane scenes
and people splattered on every inch of the walls and multiple easels sat in a
circle facing outward.
 “Wow.” Echoing her earlier awe, I pulled my hands out of Valerie’s shirt
to look around, and stacks of notebooks piled up in the corners of the room. It
was shocking how talented she was, and my mouth dried as any words I
could make slid back down my throat. Wandering towards the nearest easel, I
swiped my hair away from my eyes to clearly look at what she’d been
working on.
Everything was startlingly black and white and gray, and there was
almost a film-noir-esque quality to it. A man stood over a woman, holding his
hand out, and she had no face but still managed to look sad and defeated.
“I haven’t done much in the way of marketing myself. I’m not really
good at it, to be honest. When I was in school, I won a contest, but most of
the offers I got were free ‘for exposure’ bullcrap things like that, so I always
turned them down. After I moved here, I kinda wished I hadn’t. I don’t have
much of a social media presence.” Tearing my eyes off the drawing, I
frowned when Valerie’s nose wrinkled in self-depreciation, and she wrapped
her arms around herself. “It’s a balance that I haven’t figured out yet.”
“You went to school for art, right?” Nodding, she huffed loudly in
disgruntlement, and my frown deepened. “You didn’t like it?”
“I hated it, but I was on scholarship, so I had to go. My mom was on her
way to jail, and there were some good things about it, like learning to use
rendering software and stuff, which got me the job I just quit. It was just
really hard for me because it was the first time Natasha and I weren’t
together.” My heart ached for her, and I sauntered over to wrap my arms
around her and squeeze. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of her, but the
guy who called me from my mom’s phone, he sounded really amused, like he
didn’t have to do it, but he wanted to and he was gonna enjoy it.”
“Valerie . . . ” What the fuck do I say? Oh, hey, just name drop me, and
they’ll run away pissing down their legs? “If you ever feel scared, just tell
me. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Money doesn’t solve all problems.” Rolling my eyes at that grumble
against my sternum, I tangled my hand in her hair to tilt her head back.
Valerie looked . . . anxious, like the threat of what may or may not happen
was already looming, and I sucked up a breath through flared nostrils.
“That is complete bullshit. This is exactly the situation where money will
solve the problem. I get it— pay it now, and you’ll be expected to pay it next
time. But I guarantee you, Valerie, that won’t happen. Those guys are
wannabes.” I couldn’t assure her more than that, and Valerie rested her chin
on my chest to gaze up at me with those big, brown eyes that showed
everything she was feeling. Kneading her head, I pressed my lips to her
forehead, and her messed hair ruffled slightly from my sigh. “There are perks
— you should see my movie collection.”
“What’s your favorite movie?” Humming as I rocked back on my heels, I
glanced at the display around me as my mind churned leisurely.
“The Boondock Saints. Have you ever seen it?” My brows rose in surprise
when she shook her head, and I smiled in childlike excitement. “Really? It’s
hilarious. The second one doesn’t stack up, but as a standalone, it’s amazing.
Let’s watch it. I have it on my phone.”
“This isn’t one of those situations where we’re gonna ‘watch’ something,
and two minutes in, we’re gonna have sex, is it?” The carpet squeezed
through my toes when I flexed them, and I shook my head to Valerie’s
genuine amusement. “I’m not sure what that says about me, but at least it’s
not a video game.”
“Oh, please. I don’t like video games.” Tightening my arm around her
waist, I grabbed her hand to sway, and Valerie giggled at my scoff. A
lightness lifted my chest, straightened my spine, and I grinned as I twirled her
a little. “My little brother plays a lot of video games, and he’s a loser. It’s a
proven association.”
“Aren’t all little brothers losers? It’s just me and Natasha, so I wouldn’t
know.” Pulling her to my chest, I nodded firmly, and she laughed a beautiful
sound before a door creaked somewhere. Against my chest, Valerie tensed,
but I knew that Theo was still hanging around out in the hallway. Natasha’s
slurring giggles floated down the hallway, and Valerie put her hand on my
chest before telltale stomping rumbled underfoot.
Theo had slung the drunk broad over his shoulder, and Valerie left me to
pop open the first door on the right. Her sister was trashed, and from the glare
Theo shot me, it put a bit of a damper on things. We were together so often
that I’d put levels on his scowls, and at least Illya thought it was funny.
“Theo, you can go back.” Leaning on the door frame as he set Natasha
down with surprising gentleness— maybe, so she didn’t throw up on him— I
almost felt bad for him. Almost.
When he straightened, he just rolled his eyes at me, and my lip twitched
up as his curled in a nasty snarl.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Carlyle— a whole two hours before seven a.m. How
generous. There’s absolutely no point in going back right now, or Illya will
kick my ass for waking her up.” Growling at me as he pushed past, Theo
shook his head and rubbed the cheek that Illya had so recently smacked.
“That bitch can hurt when she wants to.”
“But it worked. Was there an update?” Only shaking his head again, Theo
disappeared into the living room, but I never heard the front door open and
close. Scratching my jaw, I couldn’t help but be impressed by how hard
Isabel had gotten drugged, but she always had a weak constitution, so it
wasn’t surprising.
At least that cunt hadn’t woken up while I was balls deep in Valerie.
“Illya’s the girl who got all the donuts that one time, right? That’s a really
pretty name.”
“Don’t be fooled— she’s got bigger balls than me. I’m constantly
impressed by her.” A strange expression rippled across Valerie’s face, and I
cocked my head as I shuffled to pin her against the wall. “What?”
“At the time, I was a little jealous.” My breath caught in surprise, and
Valerie tinged pink up to her ears as she ran her fingers through my check
hairs. Staring studiously at my collarbone under furrowed brows, her
confession rang in my ears even as it lengthened. “Before I realized that she
was your sister or cousin or whatever.”
“This is gonna sound terrible, but Illya’s been through some shit, and I
find her physically repulsive.” Grabbing her tits to squeeze through her pale
blue shirt, I worked my knee between her thick thighs as she pursed her lips
thinly. “I appreciate the sentiment, though, but, no, she’s not my sister or
cousin, and I would rather gouge my eyes out than see her naked.”
“That’s because you’re a piece of shit who can’t appreciate scars.” Both
Valerie and I turned to Theo, and I scowled as he held up the half-eaten
grilled cheese she’d made. “Can I have this?”
“Uh . . . yeah? Help yourself.” He sat on the sofa, just making himself at
home, and an irritated sigh escaped my flared nostrils before Valerie muffled
a laugh in my shoulder. “L-let’s just go watch the movie. This is awkward. I
shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Hey . . . ” Cupping her flaming cheek, I couldn’t help but smile at the
embarrassment that flared in her eyes when they met mine. “It’s not so bad.
Illya’s not my sister, but it feels like she is. No harm done, Valerie.”
“Yeah.” Her relief was kinda cute, and my smile widened as she worked
her hand into my unfastened pants. “Can we watch it naked?”
18

Valerie
Groaning softly, I rolled over to hike my leg up over Carlyle’s hard abs and
struggled to stay asleep. He was warm, his heartbeat steady against my cheek,
and he stroked my hair to tug the strands gently.
“Carlyle . . . ” A girl could get used to this, and I wiggled closer to wrap
my other leg around his. His cheek puffed against my forehead when he
smirked, and residual sweat and other questionable fluids glued my breasts to
his side. “How long have you been up?”
“About ten minutes. It’s almost one p.m. I have to head out in a little bit.”
Forcing my eyelids open, I frowned when he sighed forlornly, and I lifted my
head as his brows furrowed. “I have some things to take care of before work
tomorrow. As much as I’d love to put it off, it can’t wait anymore.”
“It’s okay. I need to overthink and fantasize about last night, anyway.” He
huffed a laugh, and I hoovered up a huge breath and rubbed my eyes with a
sniffle. “I’m not really . . . just the fantasizing part. I know it’s just sex.”
“That was fantasy-worthy sex, Valerie. The only thing about last night
that turned me off was you falling asleep during Boondock Saints— you
missed Willem Dafoe.” Giggling a little as Carlyle grabbed my ass and
squeezed, I shuffled heavily to straddle him, and the colored tiger tattoo on
his chest peeked through my fingers. “I’ll just make you watch it again. It’s
my favorite movie, and you didn’t stay awake for it.”
“I liked what I saw of it, though.” Grinding against him, I gasped when he
smacked my ass sharp but soft, and Carlyle kneaded my breasts as his heat
seeped between my thighs. His sleeves of tattoos rippled from powerful ropes
of muscle, and I braced my arms on either side of his head. Sucking my
nipple into his mouth, he tweaked the right one gently, and I shivered at the
pleasure that skittered down my torso.
“You’re so damn sexy, with and without clothes.” Squeezing my breasts
together, Carlyle switched to my right nipple, and I moaned as his hot praise
rolled down my abdomen. His cock hardened against my core, and I panted
weakly as I reached between us to pump his shaft. “Fuck.”
“You only cuss when you’re turned on.” Posing the observation as I
shuffled down, I caught Carlyle’s gaze as my mouth watered. His lips parted,
his breath hitching noticeably when I dribbled spit on his cock, and I
squeezed and worked his hardness as he propped his arm under his head.
“I hope you never see me mad.” Biting my bottom lip at that, I poised
Carlyle’s cock at my entrance, and my heart thundered against the bars of its
cage. The bulbous head stretched my walls even as they quivered in need,
and I gasped as I took him all the way in. He groaned so loudly, the sound
echoing in my ears, and hard palms grappled my ass to squeeze.
My eyelids fluttered closed in ecstasy when Carlyle thrust up, and I
braced my hands on his chest to roll my hips. There was nothing more
beautiful, I’d decided, than him, and I clamped down on him when his head
hit that spot inside me.
“Valerie . . . ” Bouncing a steady beat on his cock, a shiver raced up my
spine at his breathless moan, and Carlyle’s harsh pants scorched my nipples.
Pleasure tightened my abdomen, and my ass cheeks quivered in his hands as
he parted them to push down.
“Oh-h, God . . . oh, God.” My shaky breaths caught on my own voice as I
rode him, and I clenched my jaw as I tried to stave off my orgasm. Sitting up,
Carlyle wrapped his arms across my back, and the world spun until I landed
on my back. My knees clung to his sides as he took control, and he ducked to
kiss and lave my neck. Trapping me below him with his elbows, he tangled
both hands in my hair, and I moaned when he tugged my head back.
Thrusting deep, his cock caressed my walls, and I buried my cry in his
powerful shoulder.
“Christ, Val . . . ” Nibbling my pulse point as I clamped down on him
hard, Carlyle panted roughly as his thrusts became sharper and faster. The
scraggly hairs on his sac teased my back entrance, the slap of his weight on
my thighs, making me small, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold
tight. “You sexy fucking bitch.”
“Yes . . . yes . . . yes . . . yes-s-s, Carlyle . . . right there. I’m gonna
come.” His thick cock rammed just the right spot over and over, and my eyes
rolled back as my toes curled around his ass. “M-make me come . . . ”
The high-pitched whine in my voice was one I didn’t recognize, and I
held my breath as my face warmed. Pleasure coiled in my abdomen, and
Carlyle grunted to the furious beat of my heart as he snapped his hips against
mine. His fists pulled my hair taut, and prickles raced down my spine even
while icy tendrils surged up my sternum.
 Growling in my ear as I undulated wildly around his length, Carlyle thrust
hard, and the slap of skin on skin rose above the blood drumming in my ears.
Tearing a hand from the strands, he gripped the sheet above my head, and his
other hand glided down to rub my ass cheek. His little smack sent a jolt of
eroticism through me, and I sputtered a gasp before he hit me a second time
in the same spot.
“Turn over. I wanna see that ass jiggle while I fuck you.” Eagerness
tingled my calves and up my arms, and I rolled over to stick my ass up and
spread my knees. Gripping my hips, Carlyle grazed his teeth along both my
ass cheeks and my need dripped from my entrance before he slipped his
fingers through.
“Oh, fuck!” Wiggling his hand viciously, Carlyle curled two digits against
my inner walls, and I moaned into the mattress as I came undone. Shivering,
goosebumps blanketed my skin as he jostled my pelvis, and my ass cheeks
clenched when he cracked his palm against them hard. Arching sharply, I
fisted the sheet with white-knuckle tightness, and he worked a third finger
into my channel.
“Yeah-h-h . . . that’s what I like.” Gripping both my ass cheeks, his nails
dug into the stinging flesh, and I rasped a moan when Carlyle plunged into
my depths. The sharp snaps of his hips jolted up my body, and I pushed back
on him as pleasure spotted my vision. “Fuck my cock, Valerie.”
“I’m gonna!” Pushing myself onto weak arms, I blew out a hot breath,
and I glanced over my shoulder blearily when Carlyle barked out a laugh. His
thrusts slowed, became less erratic, and I sat back to set a pace of my own to
match his. My hair stuck to my cheeks and neck, and I blustered and shook
my head, but it really didn’t help. Gingerly gathering up the strands, he didn’t
yank them, and I ground my ass against his defined abs.
Each shove of his cock into my channel knocked the air from my lungs,
and I whimpered from the pressure building behind my eyes. Leaning down
to conform against my back, Carlyle reached under me to tweak my nipple,
and I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth to gnaw diligently.
“Slow . . . slow . . . ” Shivering at the command, I dropped onto my
elbows to ride Carlyle’s cock, and he sat back to thrust to my rhythm.
Jiggling my ass cheeks, he hissed in pleasure, and I rocked forward to
wiggled my hips around the very tip. “I’m gonna come all over this perfect
ass, Valerie.”
“What the Hell is wrong with my mouth, or my foot, or—” A squeak
escaped me when Carlyle thrust hard to cut me off, and I ground my teeth as
pleasure shot through me like lightning. “Fuck!”
“It wasn’t a suggestion.” I could feel his stupid smirk against my shoulder
blades, and Carlyle growled as his cock gorged and twitched against my
walls. He pulled back, and I gulped down a shallow breath and braced myself
before he plowed into my channel. My moan rang in my ears, and his
fingernails dug deeper as he pushed down and sputtered a gasp.
Seconds ticked by like minutes before Carlyle pulled out of me
completely, and he smacked my ass cheeks with both his palms to send me
collapsing onto my bed. Gasping for air, I groaned when he draped himself
over me to peel back my hair and kiss my cheek.
“Go to sleep. You deserve it.” The roughness of his tone thickened the
goosebumps pocking my back and legs, and he pulled all of my hair up away
from my face. “I’ll be back. You can bet your ass on that.”
“Wait . . . ” My mumble paused his sitting up, and Carlyle hummed
hoarsely before I managed to get the strength to open my mouth again. “Get
my laptop and put on Netflix for me.”
“Uh . . . yeah, just give me your password, and your social security
number, birthday, mother’s maiden name . . . why not.” Grumbling as he
climbed off the bed, Carlyle opened my laptop on my desk, and I sniffed hard
as I struggled to roll over. “What do you want to watch?”
“Use the guest account, put on anything.”
“Hitler documentary it is, then.”
19

Carlyle
Stretching my arms above my head, I arched back with a groan, and my spine
popped as satisfaction surged through my veins. Shaking myself out, I rolled
my head to crack my neck, and I didn’t dare beat down this wonderful feeling
that warmed my chest. Grabbing the doorknob, I took a big, stabilizing breath
before pushing the metal barrier open, and the metallic scent of blood hit me
square in the face.
Isobel was tied to a chair, her nose and face crusted with blood down her
slender neck, and I couldn’t help but grin when her head snapped up. Fiery,
brown eyes met mine only to widen in surprise, and I leaned on the door
frame to cross my arms in an effort to contain my amusement.
“You really fucked up this time, Isobel.” The panic on her pretty, birdlike
features was intoxicating, framed by hair sticking to her cheeks with sweat
and blood. Like this, she was almost bearable to look at, and I rubbed my
chin thoughtfully as I scanned her. “Did you think I didn’t know what you
were doing?”
Posing the vague question to see her reaction, I watched that panic
darken, and she must’ve thought I was talking about whatever bullshit her
brother spouted. Isobel sat up a little straighter in the metal chair, stuck out
her chin, and took a breath in preparation, but I didn’t let her open her big ass
mouth. Holding up a hand to silence her, I sauntered into the makeshift
interrogation room to lean on the armrests and get close to her face.
“The only thing I want to hear coming out of that disgusting mouth of
yours is the name of whoever you’re scheming with. I know it’s not Wren
because he’s missing right now. I know it’s not your dumbfuck brother
because he hates you almost as much as I find you repulsive. It’s definitely
not your father— the senile piece of shit probably can’t remember who you
are.” She had the audacity to look pained at my snipe, and I pushed myself up
roughly to jostle her chair. “So, think carefully about what idiocy you’re
going to spew out.”
Isobel was quiet, and I hoped, for once, she was using her brain. I had shit
that needed answers. Of course, I could tell her that I’d let her go, but if she
really trusted my word and spilled her guts . . .
Well, then what the fuck did I need her for? The answers to my questions
would be simple. The only issue was that I was too far removed from the
Italians to know much of the fundamentals.
“What’ll you do for me if I tell you?” Barking a hard laugh, I threw back
my head, and Isobel glared at me from under her raven bangs. “You’re an
insufferable bastard, Carlyle, but the one thing you know is a business deal.”
Arching a brow quizzically, my mirth caught in my chest, and my hand
shot out to wrap around her throat. Forcing Isobel’s head up, I leaned in until
I could count each individual eyelash, and she gasped as her cold sweat
slickened my palm.
“Is that how you want to start this, you stupid cunt? By insulting me?”
Reaching for the gun tucked into its holster against my back, I pressed the
barrel against her temple, and she whimpered a deliciously scared sound. “I
don’t appreciate being insulted in my own home. I’ll give you the opportunity
to retract that statement.”
Wide eyes wavered at my calm, and I put a little more pressure on her
throat as irritation stained my tongue like acid.
“I said apologize, you fucking bitch!” Roaring in her face got her out of
her own head, and Isobel shakily whispered an apology before I released her
jaw with a jerk. Putting my gun away, I wiped my hand on my pants with
disgust curling my lip. “Now, if you want to make a deal, we can make a
deal. What you get depends on what you give.”
“I want to leave here unharmed.” Pausing, as if she expected me to deny
her, Isobel frowned with uncertainty wrinkling her slender brows. Waiting a
few seconds, I hoisted myself onto the metal table up against the wall, but she
didn’t say anything else.
“Fine. What dumbass plan have you been cooking up in that empty head
of yours, and who’s your even more dumbass accomplices?” I swung my legs
a little just to relieve some tension and watched Isobel expectantly. Did she
really think I was going to let her just waltz out the gates and trudge back
home? She certainly seemed to believe that if her sturdy expression was
anything to go by. The longer the silence stretched, the more sure of her
decision she seemed.
It was almost funny how stupid she was. After all, you never specified
where or when ‘here’ was . . . and you’re not leaving this room. That was one
of the first lessons my father taught me— if I was ever held hostage, assume
they’re going to kill me and keep my mouth shut. Talking would just delay
the inevitable.
“Wren’s not missing, he’s dead.” My brows twitched in surprise, and I
jutted my chin out as Isobel hung her head. “I had him assassinated after he
took that deal to trade his enterprise for horses. He ruined our plan.”
“That is really vague and unhelpful. What plan?” Frowning darkly at this
surprising but boring twist, I cocked my head as I contemplated this turn of
events. Wren sold his State-side girls for horses. It wasn’t a stupid deal to
take on his part. My issue with it was him being fucked over by that desert
snake so completely. It’s true he wasn’t totally useless, as he still had the rest
of the damn world, but . . . him being dead presented problems for me.
“We were gonna get someone under your skin— or one of your brothers
— and blackmail you.” Trailing off, Isobel’s lips thinned, and I frowned
under tightly knit brows as my mind chugged along like the Little Engine
That Could. “Anyway, after Wren fucked it all up, I suggested to my dad to
marry you, and my brother pushed it because he wanted to get me out of the
way. When you said ‘no,’ I had to contact that bitch in Nevada, but she
refused to even hear me out. I searched for a while, and I got word that some
no-name from Dallas had access to some girls. By the time I went out there,
they were gone, but I got assurances that they could be found.”
Dallas. Hiding how troubled that place was starting to make me, I inhaled
deeply as Isobel paused. Her nasal voice rang in my ears, and I leaned back
on my arms to drum my fingertips on the metal.
“Let me guess . . . it was a debtor or a debtor’s family member.” Turning
back to Isobel, I frowned deeply as she nodded dumbly, and I slid off the
table with a grunt. “Cool. Thanks for the chat.”
“Wait! Damnit, Carlyle!” Pausing at her frantic shriek, I almost winced as
it bounced off the concrete walls, and she jerked her arms tied to the back of
the chair. “You said you’d let me go!”
“You didn’t exactly give me anything to warrant your life, now did you?”
Isobel started to pant, struggled to adjust the chair even as I turned my back
on her, and I lifted my hand in a dismissive wave. “Let me know when
you’ve got something important to say- if ever. I’m sure someone at some
point will come down and give you some water.”
“Carlyle! Carlyle, wait! Please!” Even from outside the room, with the
door shut, I could faintly hear Isobel screaming bloody fucking murder, and I
ran my hands up my face with a groan.
 “Valerie . . . Valerie . . . Valerie. What the fuck is your mother up to
down there?” Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I dialed Esmarissa’s
personal number, and she answered within the first ring. “Whatever you’re
doing on Wednesday, cancel it. I’m coming to you.”
“I’m going to my boyfriend’s ex-brother-in-law’s wedding.” The bland
response rolled my eyes, and I started down the hallway towards the elevator
as a sigh floated through the speaker. “How’s next week? Tuesday?”
“Fine. Congratulations to your brother-in-law.” Hanging up, I tapped
Vanessa’s speed dial, and her chipper voice gyrated harshly against my brain.
“Send a wedding gift to Dean Warrhal. Something practical, like gift cards.”
“Do you want that bundled with a baby gift? Their second child is due in
three months.” Grumbling an affirmative, I wondered how the fuck Vanessa
stayed on top of every single person’s life that I’ve ever worked with.
Women with an internet connection and a lot of time were terrifying. After
all, she was a secretary that had no secretarial work— she was like the head
maid of secretaries, doing nothing but gossiping while her assistant did all the
work. Speaking of maids . . .
20

Valerie
Peeling open the envelope, I leaned back in my chair to sigh heavily, and
Natasha twisted from her position by the stove to cast me a curious glance.
“There’s never any good mail, like, hey, you won the lottery, and here’s a
check for eight million dollars.” She snorted at my complaining, and I tossed
the credit card offer on the table to flop my head over the back of the dining
chair. “It’s so much more boring without a job.”
“Why don’t you call Carlyle? Oh, wait . . . you’re too lazy to go get a new
phone.” Frowning at the ceiling, I didn’t deem that jab with an answer, and
my sister turned back to the stovetop out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t get
why you haven’t, Val. You need a phone. It’s a simple fact of life.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m going to do it tomorrow. More importantly,
when’s the fried chicken g—” The trill of the doorbell cut me off, and I stood
up as Natasha cast me a curious look. Shrugging on my way to the door, I
cracked open the door, and surprise sucked the air from my lungs. I was
convinced Carlyle was the devil, coming to me whenever his name was
mentioned aloud, and he smiled tenderly.
“Are you going to open the door?” His deep baritone wrapped around me
to send a delicious shiver down my back, and I rolled my lip between my
teeth.
“What’ll I get?” He leaned with his arm above his head, his eyes dancing
with amusement, and I held my breath in anticipation.
“My amazing company.” Smirking at me when I scoffed lightly, Carlyle
held a plain, brown box in his hand just high enough to catch the bottom of
my field of vision. “Also, I brought you this since Theo ate yours.”
“Oh. You brought me a grilled cheese sandwich? That’s my kind of gift.
Come on in.” Closing the door to unlock the chain hook, I downright grinned
when Carlyle’s chuckle squeezed through the frame, and he held out the box
with affection tilting his mouth. “Even though it’s pre-made, it’s the thought
that counts.”
“What did you think I’d do, put it in a sandwich-sized box, then put that
box in another box, and so on? This isn’t the Looney Toons.” My fingers
itched as they wrapped around the gift, and the fine hairs on the back of my
neck stood up when Carlyle leaned to kiss my cheek. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” I couldn’t resist taking his tie and wrapping it around my
finger, and I turned around to tug him over the threshold. I mean, how was I
supposed to not flirt with him when he was so, so, sexy? Biting back a groan
when he grabbed my ass cheeks without the slightest hesitation, I glanced
over my shoulder to find his bodyguard not standing there, scowling. “Where
is Theo, anyway?”
“He has the day off. Last I heard, he and his girlfriend were arguing about
showering together.” Arching a brow at that, I turned away when Carlyle’s
cheek twitched in discomfort. “It’s a huge point of contention for . . .
reasons.”
“Okay.” There wasn’t anything I could do but accept that, and Carlyle
and I emerged in the kitchen just as Natasha was pulling the fried chicken out
of the deep fryer. “Did you want to stay for dinner?”
“I would love to, thank you.” Warmth suffused my chest, and I popped
open the fridge to put the box on the middle shelf. “It’s a little too late for
lunch but too early for dinner. How are you two enjoying your overly
abundant leisure time?”
“What do you mean ‘too early’? It’s four-thirty.” I slid back into my chair
to continue picking through the mail, and Carlyle sat next to me to lean back
and prop his arm behind his head. Casting him a curious look, I ripped open
the side of another envelope, and he scanned me through narrowed eyes.
“Well, since you’re not going to answer me . . . ” Thwacking him with
my envelope right in his stupid, cocky smirk, I couldn’t help but grin, and his
gaze flickered to Natasha and lost that spark of appraisal. “What about you,
Natasha? How’s your little vacation?”
“Uh . . . it’s fine. I’m making good progress on the program. Here’s a
question, Carlyle—” Turning to us, my sister scrunched up her nose, and the
crackling of oil filled the second of silence that blossomed. “Have you ever
said ‘gonna’ or ‘gotta’ or, like, what’s with the vocal propriety?”
“Vocal propriety?” Amusement thickened his tone, and my cheeks
flamed in secondhand embarrassment as I shot my sister a glare. Who the
Hell asks a question like that, anyway! “You know, I don’t think I ever have,
no. My father always told me growing up that how I talk reflected who I
was.”
“Anyway!” Cutting Natasha off, I set down my mail to turn to Carlyle,
and he huffed a small laugh as I held my cheek on my fist on the table.
“What’s up with you? I’m going to get my new phone tomorrow, so I’m
beginning to wonder if you’ve bugged my apartment or something.”
“I’m going on a trip all next week, actually. I’m leaving on Sunday. To be
honest, I really am not looking forward to it.” Caution shadowed his eyes,
and my brows drew together as they flickered between my sister and I. “I’m
going to Nevada. Since you’re both indisposed at the moment, I was
wondering if you’d like to come with me? Tuesday, I have a business
meeting in Reno, but I’ll be spending the rest of the week in Las Vegas.”
Was he nervous about inviting me? My lips thinned at the thought, and
Carlyle’s gaze narrowed into fine points on me. Goosebumps blanketed my
arms and the exposed part of my chest, and excitement at going on Vegas
bubbled up in my gut. I could feel my sister staring at me, waiting for me to
say something— well, more like glaring, silently urging me to accept.
“As long as we don’t get plastered and wake up married, I’d more than
love to go.” Nodding firmly, my face heated at the small, pleased, triumphant
smile Carlyle offered me, and I smiled back. “I’m not really a gambler,
though.”
“There’s many, many other things to do aside from gambling.” The
sensual thread in his tone slithered around my abdomen, and my cheeks
threatened to melt off from the fire creeping up my neck. God, he was so
damn hot, and rich, and . . . what would be so wrong waking up married to
him, anyway? “As long as you two enjoy getting a little gritty, I’m sure
you’ll have a great time.”
“Gritty like how? Because, okay, I won’t get sloshed, but I’ll definitely be
tipsy the entire time. Just enough to have fun.” Natasha was facing the deep
fryer again, tossing the question over her shoulder as she took the chicken
legs out in all their golden-brown goodness. Or, I hoped she’d done them
right, but I couldn’t look when Carlyle caught my gaze as he leaned on his
forearms on the table. He didn’t even acknowledge that my sister said
anything, and I held my breath when he licked his lips in preparation.
“What do you feel about . . . cage fighting?” My eyebrows nearly flew off
my face at that, and Carlyle very clearly chose his next words extremely
carefully. “Specifically, two men beating the crap out of each other for
entertainment?”
“Do you find that entertaining?” I honestly wasn’t sure how I was
supposed to respond, and Carlyle leaned back to rub his jaw and neck before
nodding curtly. Blinking hard, I cocked my head as I thought about it, and the
tension in the air steadily rose between us. “Um . . . I don’t know. I’ve never
watched two dudes beat each other up for fun. Do you do this kind of thing a
lot?”
“Often enough. I don’t make specific trips to Vegas just for this, but I’m
not much of a gambler, either.” His own confession seemed to make him feel
a little more assured, and I pursed my lips thinly as my brows drew together
thoughtfully. “I brought it up because I wondered. I hadn’t made plans yet
because I wasn’t sure if you would want to go.”
“You make plans for this kind of thing?” This conversation just got
weirder and more outlandish every time Carlyle opened his mouth, and he
nodded firmly. “Uh . . . okay . . . I mean, I don’t . . . like I said, I’ve never
watched anything like that, so I can’t knock it ‘til I try it, right?”
“What are you saying, you never watched something like that, Valerie?
You watched those cheerleaders beat the shit out of the dude who gave them
Chlamydia and totally enjoyed it.” Laughing at the memory, my sister
plopped the colander of fried chicken on the table, but Carlyle didn’t seem
impressed by that.
“Well, yeah, I enjoyed it because I turned down the opportunity to sleep
with him. And besides, he got what he deserved.” My reply was exactly what
he expected, judging by the relaxing of his face, and I started gathering up
my mail as Natasha went back to the stovetop for the sides. “I’ve never been
in a situation like that, so who knows? Even if I don’t enjoy it, it’ll still be an
experience, and we’ll still be in Vegas. There’s plenty of other things to do.”
To be honest, I couldn’t even picture what that might be like, and Carlyle
reached to squeeze my knee under the table. Was he one of those rich people
who liked doing awful things just because he knew he could get away with
it?

I’m gonna ask him about it. If nothing else, I’m confident he wouldn’t lie.
21

Valerie
A phone chimed that wasn’t mine— because I didn’t have one— and Carlyle
groped blindly on the nightstand with his free hand. Cuddling against his
side, I gnawed on my lower lip and twirled his chest hairs around my finger,
my eyes glued to my laptop screen. His warm, rough skin against my cheek
felt so nice, and I inhaled a deep, leisurely breath thickened with his smell
and held it.
“Are you going to ask me, or did you just want me to tell you, Valerie?”
Setting his phone down, Carlyle mumbled against my crown, and his fingers
buried deep under my loose bun to knead my scalp. “I know you have
questions.”
“What’re they like?” As much as I’d pre-prepared my question, Carlyle
had prepared his answers, and I tore my eyes off the movie to glance up at
him under my lashes. His jaw ticked against my forehead, and I turned back
to my laptop just as an explosion, well, exploded.
“It depends on which one you go to. Normally, they’re in seedy
abandoned buildings, and no one knows where or when until about an hour
before. Alternatively, you can rent them as long as you have your own space.
If it’s private property, and everyone’s consenting adults, the cops can’t do
anything about it if they show up. To be honest, I’ve never done either. I
attend a charity event twice a year that uses these setups. Coincidentally, I
donate quite a lot because I feel it’s a good, proper cause. The guy who runs
it is very . . . well, he’s a character, for sure.”
“Why’d you bring it up if you’ve never been to one?”
“Because I wanted to gauge your reaction.” Answering quickly, Carlyle
twisted to face me fully, and my brows furrowed in confusion. “I wouldn’t
make you endure something if you don’t like, but I also don’t know anything
you like to do, Valerie, except draw, of course, but I definitely got the short
stick in that department. I figured that I’d ask because it’s pretty extreme, and
we can always backtrack.”
“Oh, kinda like having too much as opposed to too little.” Grappling my
ass to squeeze us together, Carlyle nodded again, a seriousness draping his
sharp features. My mind churned, trying to burp up an idea, any idea, and I
licked my lips heavily. “I think I would much rather get locked in a hotel
room with you rather than anything else . . . unless there was, like, a drunk
drawing thing or something.”
“If your sister wasn’t here at that moment, I wouldn’t have invited her.
It’s impolite to just ignore her when she’s standing right there.” That brutally
honest response drew a little giggle from me, and it ended in a gasp when
Carlyle slipped his hand under my shorts and panties. “What do you like to
do that’s not sex or drawing?”
“That’s pretty much my entire personality.” He cracked a smirk, and I
giggle as I shook my head. “No . . . um . . . I guess my favorite thing to do
that’s not sex and drawing is probably . . . hanging out with my sister? I
mean, we’ve always worked, and I don’t even remember most of college.
Whenever I had free time, I’d always do stuff with her. I guess it’s kinda not
the answer you were looking for, but my life is kinda boring.”
“Trust me, I understand that. I have to actively find things to do, but most
of the time, it doesn’t seem worth it. I have two younger brothers, but we’re
not that close. We only get together because our dad’s a sadistic sociopath
and loves watching us squirm.” A little laugh escaped me, and Carlyle’s
smile strained a little, creating crow wrinkles around his eyes. “I know it’s
only Wednesday, but every day is Saturday when you’re between jobs. Theo
being off, I was hoping to catch you alone. I even let my driver off for the
night.”
“We’re alone now. What did you wanna do?” I expected some sexy
comeback, but Carlyle sat up and took his hand out of my pants. Rolling onto
my back, I paused the movie to watch him stand, and he gestured me up as he
stood.
“It’s scandalous, I know, but I thought I would drive myself somewhere
for once.” Smiling broadly, I threw my legs over the side of my bed, and
Carlyle waited patiently as I stuffed my legs into a pair of sweatpants. “You
said you were getting your phone tomorrow. Why don’t we go tonight? We
can go to Buffalo.”
“Yeah, sure. When was the last time you drove?” This was gonna be fun
— the upstate countryside, alone, going somewhere without telling anyone,
and Carlyle smiled as eagerness dribbled from my tongue. “I haven’t driven
since moving here. Natasha and I saved up enough for the apartment and
stuff before moving, but work and all that was within walking distance, so we
put off getting a car.”
“Wise financial decision. I don’t drive nearly as often as getting driven
around, but every few weeks, I get the urge.”
“Oh, wait . . . I should put on different pants if I’m gonna be out in
public.” Shimmying out of my sweat pants and booty shorts, I fixed my
panties against my ass cheeks, and Carlyle hummed softly in appreciation.
“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been putting off getting a phone because I just put it off
all the time.”
“When you work for me, you’ll get company-issued phones. Speaking of,
what are those other two doing while they’re waiting for Natasha to finish her
project?” Pulling open the door of my closet, I flipped through pairs of jeans
as Carlyle posed his question. “Hopefully, they’re using their time
constructively. Natasha had initially said it would take three weeks, but since
she’s not on the job and can devote her time fully, I expect it sooner.”
“They’re doing all the planning and pre-work. Fred was a comic book
storyboard guy before he went into IT. I’ll just be drawing and illustrating
everything. Natasha’s doing all the scripting, and Marshal’s organizing
everything.”
“You’ve got a cute little team going on, Valerie. I can’t give you an edge
because we’re sleeping together, but I really do hope you succeed.” I
snatched a really nice pair of plain, leather pants off its hangar, and my chest
warmed at Carlyle’s sincerity. “To be honest, I’ve had a crap work week, and
it’s only half over.”
“I am all ears if you wanna complain about it because I probably
wouldn’t understand anyway.” Plopping on my bed, I glanced up as he
scratched his jaw thoughtfully. Working my feet one by one into my pants, I
carefully worked them up my legs, and I stood up before he opened his
mouth.
“Basically, I’m about to initiate a hostile takeover, but getting everything
ready for it is exasperating. I knew things wouldn’t exactly go precisely the
way I planned, but there’s been a major kink in the operation.” Bouncing to
pull the soft leather up over my ass, I nodded even though I had absolutely no
context to understand any of that. “It’s a hassle, but someone’s got to do it.”
“That was a perfect time to say ‘gotta.’” Smirking at my own point, my
smile widened at his deep, husky laugh, and I pulled the strings taut to tie
them in a bow. “Anyway, I can’t imagine how much work goes into that. No
wonder you need some downtime.”
 “My father and both my brothers decided to commandeer my building for
the past three weeks, too. I have a feeling they’re not leaving any time soon.”
He sounded so grumpy at that, and I stuck my feet into a pair of sneakers
before sauntering over to him. Winding my arms around his neck, heat
slithered up my sides when he rested his hands on my hips, and I ran my
fingers up the back of his scalp through his hair.
“Does anyone ever ask you what you want, or do they just shirk
responsibility on you and expect you to deal with it?” Troubled quizzicality
drew together his brows, and I ducked my face into his neck to lean into his
embrace. Tentatively, strong arms crisscrossed my back, and Carlyle rested
his cheek on my forehead to sigh heavily.
“No one ever asks me what I want. I never realized before recently how
much I . . . I really hate my life. I grew up being told I was the oldest, and I
was always going to have to mop up messes whether I liked it or not.” My
heart ached for Carlyle, and I tightened my grip on him as he squeezed my
shoulders. “I don’t think I can answer that on any level.”
Now, I had to show Carlyle a good time— we were gonna have fun,
come Hell or high water.
22

Carlyle
Buffalo seemed particularly beautiful in the twilight, and I glanced over at
Valerie waved her hand out the window. We were stuck in traffic, but the
usual frustration of it was lost to me— maybe because I didn’t have a
destination. Of course, we were going to the mall, but getting there wasn’t
exactly on my top five things to do in this car. Adjusting my grip on the
wheel, I waited, my blinker flashing on the dash, for the long line of cars in
the turn lane.
“You’re older than your brothers, right? By how much?” Filling the
silence, Valerie flopped her head to watch me through curious, bright eyes.
“You already know Natasha and I are six minutes apart, and we’re an only
child.”
“Oran is three years younger than me, and Mateo is eight. I had a sister,
but she died when I was twenty-two. She was six years younger than me.”
Raking my hand through my hair, I inhaled a deep breath. Illya reminded me
a lot of my sister, but it’d been a long time since I actually conjured her
name. “Her name was Sonja.”
“So, you were a big bad boss at the age of thirty. That’s not bad. I’m
sorry you had to deal with that, Carlyle. My dad died when I was thirteen,
and that’s when my mom went off the rails.” The honest to God truth was
that Sonja’s death really put things into perspective— that she could be so
bubbly and happy and nice, and still kill herself. Reaching over the center
console, I held Valerie’s hand, and she tangled our fingers together with a
forlorn sigh. “I used to think my mom loved my dad so much that she went
crazy because he died, but then I realized she just couldn’t function without
him. He was the money maker, and she was a stay-at-home mom. He went
grocery shopping, and she didn’t know how to drive. All that stuff.”
“I take it something happened to make you both move here?” I didn’t
want to probe too deep too quickly, but Valerie only shrugged nonchalantly,
her nose scrunching up in disgust. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t
want to.”
“Nah, it’s stereotypical. We’d been talking about it since our mom went
to jail the third time, and my boyfriend cheated on me. When I found out
about it, I just left. Didn’t tell him, didn’t leave a note, didn’t even get my
stuff. I just disappeared on him. Natasha quit her job, and we took the trans-
Amex from Dallas to Florida up to New York. On the way, we decided this
was the place.”
“What the fuck?” The slur just burst from my mouth, loud and abrasive,
and Valerie jumped a little with a small, surprised gasp. “How could you get
cheated on?”
She just smiled even as fire raced through my veins, and I exhale a
flaming breath through my nose. The line of cars in front of me starting to
move, but I didn’t let go of her hand as I propped my knee under the wheel.
Driving wasn’t so alien, but usually, I was by myself, and now, I was fucking
pissed.
“I guess . . . ” Speaking up as I pulled into the turn just as the arrow
turned yellow, Valerie’s voice dipped low. “I could’ve been a better
girlfriend. I dated Trevor because he was boring, and the last thing I wanted
to be involved in anything remotely exciting because exciting meant
dangerous. We met in college, but we never lived together or anything. He
was definitely one of those guys you get into a relationship to break up with,
and I knew that from the start.”
“That’s not an excuse for cheating. Any guy who cheats instead of just
breaking up is a loser and doesn’t deserve any woman, let alone a woman like
you.” Venom dribbled from my tongue like acid, and Valerie raised my hand
to rub her cheek against the back of my palm. The thick hairs on my arm
stood up, and I tightened my grip on her fingers even as a scowl threatened to
curl my lip.
“I know, Carlyle. It was like the straw that broke the camel’s back, is
what I’m saying. It was a small thing that initiated catastrophic change for
me. I realized that I couldn’t keep going like that. There was a lot of other
stuff going on— like I said, my mom was on her way to jail again. I wasn’t
with my sister, and that made me miserable. I’d graduated, but had absolutely
no job prospects until Natasha found this job here. I mean, to her credit, she
found it pretty quick, so I quit my job at a pizza place, and here we are, a
little more than a year later.” Her cheek warmed against my palm, and I
clenched my jaw hard when she sighed down the cuff of my shirt. “So that’s
my butterfly moment. Here’s a question— what’s the stupidest thing you’ve
ever spent money on?”
 “Uh-h. . . I hired some Mexican mercenaries to assassinate a guy, and not
only did they not do that, but they got this woman involved who ended up my
employee through events I’m still unsure of?” Valerie laughed, of course, but
I was still pissed about that fucking bullshit even now, almost five years later.
Licking my teeth, I shook my head and sat back a little to prop my head on
the rest. “No, seriously, I think the stupidest thing I’ve ever spent money on
was probably a golf trip. Did I mention yet that I absolutely hate golf?”
“Oh, no, you didn’t. Are you so rich that the law doesn’t apply to you?”
“Yes. I just own the whole world, and it sucks.” Throwing back her head
to cackle at my sarcasm, Valerie held my hand against the soft leather
straining against her thighs, and I smirked faintly. “If I was, would it matter?
I didn’t take you to be the type to get caught up on something as superficial
as money, Valerie.”
“Not really. I mean, I’m still not really understanding the whole scale of
it, but it’s whatever. Even if I needed your help, I’d try to pay you back and
keep it reasonable. It’s not like you’re a criminal or anything.” Trailing off,
Valerie shot me a curiously arched brow, and I ground my teeth. “You don’t
give off that slimy vibe, you know?”
“Isn’t that the beauty of it? Who’s going to suspect me? This is exactly
why I don’t say ‘gotta.’” She chuffed a laugh, and a strange sense of guilt
constricted my throat. I’d rarely felt guilty about anything before, but lying to
her . . . Adjusting my grip on the wheel, I rubbed her palm with my thumb as
I waded through downtown. “What would you think of that, Valerie?”
“I guess you have a point about being smart about it. To be honest, I’ve
never thought about it before. At least you don’t sag your pants.” If Valerie
was looking deep into my questions, she didn’t let it show, and I scoffed
loudly before she let go of my hand to point across the dash. “Let’s stop
there. There’s plenty of time before the mall closes, right?”
My gaze flickered over, and I almost thought I saw her frown under
furrowed brows right beforehand. The Dairy Queen wasn’t too packed, and I
pushed my blinker and rolled to a stop to wait for opposing traffic.
“I’ll have to check on the mall. It’s only seven-oh-four p.m., though.”
Grumbling more to myself than her, I took my turn with a slight squeak of
the tires. “Did you want to go in or go through the drive-thru?”
“Let’s go in.” Pulling into the first available spot, I jerked the gear into
park and the emergency brake, and Valerie covered my hand with hers.
Prickles rippled up my arm, and a cold sweat broke out under my shirt when
she leaned over the center console. Her lips were soft, warm, and my heart
thundered hard as my free hand flew to cup her even softer, warmer cheek.
Our kiss was tentative, and her eyelids fluttered as my gaze darkened, my
focus boiling down to what of her I could feel.
When she pulled back, Valerie’s eyes sparkled brightly, and she brushed
her nose against mine with a small, wistful sigh.
“You didn’t kiss me at all Saturday night. I was wondering what it was
like.” Her mumble hit me right in the chest, and my lips twitched in some
weird way between an uncomfortable wince and an awkward smile.
“I’ll have to rectify that.” A genuine, small smile puffed out her cheeks,
and Valerie’s palm left mine to cup my chin and wag my jaw like I was a kid.
“I’m not going to say it.”
“It’s easy. Do it with me . . . ‘I can fix that.’” Drawling slowly, Valerie’s
smile widened, her eyes sparkling a little bit brighter with amusement, and
she caressed up my jaw. “You’re so difficult, Carlyle.”
“I refuse to be associated with that asshole Shia LaBeouf.” She ducked
her head to laugh, and I downright grinned before unbuckling myself and
turning the car off. “Let’s go before we end up not.”
“How many movies have you watched, huh?” Popping open the door, I
turned back to Valerie as she unbuckled, casting me a heavy side-eye. For a
second, I thought about that, but eventually, I couldn’t do anything but shrug.
“I’m not sure. I only know Disney because Mateo was obsessed with all
that when he was younger. It’s not surprising he turned out the way he did
with people like that for a role model.” When she opened her mouth again, I
held up a hand, and the keys jingled loudly. “And, yes, I’ve met them—
they’re all assholes.”
23

Valerie
I knew he was too perfect. Staring at Carlyle from under my lashes, I scooped
some of my strawberry sundae into my mouth in an attempt to cool my brain.
He wasn’t nearly as subtle as he thought, and I wasn’t so naive as to think
those questions and comments were meaningless. I wonder what happened
today to make him come try to confess in the first place.
“So, this business trip to Nevada. Is it involved with your anxiety over
this hostile takeover thing?” I mean, who the Hell asks what a person thinks
about him if he was a criminal? During the car ride, I couldn’t stop thinking
about that whole cage match conversation. Carlyle wouldn’t lie, I didn’t
think, but there was another reason he brought it up other than just the one he
gave. His hazel eyes flickered to mine, and I clamped my lips around my
spoon to suck off the strawberry sauce.
“I don’t know, to be honest. Things that happen far away have even
farther-reaching consequences. Like with your mother, I’m trying to do
damage control because of someone else’s mistakes.” Nodding firmly, I
leaned on my forearms on the table even as he sat back a little to frown under
furrowed brows. He’s lucky he’s so damn handsome and polite. Otherwise . .
. “I had a business associate in Nevada that’d I paid to do some ongoing
contractual business. The city they live in was in the midst of a boom, so I
figured I’d get in on it. After a few fumbles on their part, mostly because of
incompetence, I pulled out.”
“Why go back when they already proved they couldn’t do the job?” One
thing I knew very little about was business, and Carlyle cocked his head as he
hummed in acknowledgment. His lips pursed around his spoon, and I nibbled
my own as they tingled from the residue of our kiss.
Truth be told, I hadn’t realized he didn’t kiss me until I was already doing
it . . . and I knew why. Those lips told no lies, and they liked me.
“It’s coming to bite me in the ass. I thought the operation was sound, but
it just fell apart so easily, and I lost a lot of money. I’m not stupid enough to
think I can attempt to get it back, but if I could figure out what happened, I
can stop it from happening again.” I scraped the bottom of the banana boat
for syrup as Carlyle spoke, and he reached across the table to hold my wrist
gingerly. “Also, I was looking for a reason to impress you.”
Giggling as flames licked my cheeks, I only shook my head, and he
cracked a sexy smirk as he thumbed my skin. A shiver lodged between my
shoulder blades, and I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth fully as I
locked eyes with him. Carlyle had mastered the art of being genuine while
hiding his true intentions and now was no different.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, yet.
“You just want to get me drunk, so we can get hitched, and you’d have an
excuse. I know what you’re doing, Carlyle, and I’m not gonna fall for it.” He
chuckled, and the sound caressed my ears even while they burned with all the
heat radiating from my abdomen. “You’re lucky you’re sexy and don’t use
slang. Otherwise, you’d have nothing going for you.”
“Come on, that’s not fair. I have nice hair, too.” Sniggering at that, I
shook my head, and Carlyle smiled broadly, squeezing my wrist before
retreating to hold up his boat. “I guess it doesn’t make up for being a terrible
person, you’re right. I’m just wrong for wanting to spend time with you,
Valerie.”
“I guess that makes us both wrong. Then again . . . ” Sliding my foot up
his inner leg, I hummed softly as Carlyle’s eyes narrowed on me. “What’s
that saying?”
“What’s wrong is wrong, and what’s right is left.” Barking a laugh at that,
I slump back in my seat to cover my face with my free hand, and Carlyle
grinned broadly. Merriment brightened his eyes, and he propped his cheek on
his fist as I stifled my giggles. “Whatever you say or do is always right, and
I’m always wrong. That’s the way it goes.”
“You got jokes, and they’re funny.” Carlyle chuffed softly, and I sat up
over my empty banana boat to pull my hair over my shoulder absently.
Sighing as a short silence stretched between us, I licked my lips heavily, and
he didn’t break eye contact while he ate the last of his banana smothered in
sauce. All the flirtiness was suddenly sucked from my chest, and I twisted my
hair around and around as my foot fell from his thigh. “T-to be honest,
Carlyle, I don’t want to get a new phone. I’ve been putting it off because if
they have my mom, they know all about me— my birthday, my name—
they’ll find my new number. It’s almost a guarantee.”
“Has Natasha gotten any phone calls?”
“Not that she’s mentioned.” I couldn’t help the irrational hope bubbling
in my chest that if Carlyle really was a little shady, he could help me out.
Clearing out the restaurant to talk about a voice demodulator program, having
a bodyguard like Theo, and tonight, it all pointed to some less than squeaky
clean shoes. “I shouldn’t have broken my phone. I was just . . . I didn’t want
to get dragged in again.”
“Do you still have it? I could hand it to my cyber guy, Jerry.” Nodding, I
inhaled deeply, steadily, and Carlyle sat back to rub his chin thoughtfully
under furrowed brows. “If I found anything, would you want to know, or do
you want it handled externally?”
“Um . . . I don’t really know how to answer that.” It’d been a few weeks
at this point, and I shrugged as Carlyle set down his empty boat. “Yes?”
Sliding out of the booth first, he held out his hand for me, and I followed
suit before he gathered the boats to dump them in the trash. His palm was
warm and dry, hard against mine, and I lifted it to my cheek to feel the hairs
on the back of his hand bristle.
“We should’ve stayed in bed.” The almost unbearable urge to get naked
and just cuddle swept through me in powerful waves, and I spoke up as we
entered the parking lot. Carlyle wrapped his arm around my neck, pressing
his lips to my temple, and I closed my eyes after stepping off the sidewalk
and onto the asphalt. “I’m sorry I dampened the date.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Valerie. If you want, we can get a hotel
room. We’ll get your phone first, though, alright? I’ll have Jerry work on the
security once we know your new number.”
“I’d like that.” Tonight had started feeling like a really nice date, and I
just had to ruin it. “Um . . . have you been to this mall before? I haven’t.”
“The Walden Galleria? Not personally. It’ll be an adventure.” Smiling
encouragingly, Carlyle pulled his keys out of his pocket, and we paused
while he unlocked the car. Shirking off my gloominess, I rubbed my hands up
my face and through my hair and heaved a massive sigh.
All I had to do was focus on the man in front of me, and I’d have a great
time.
Not the fact that he made comments about assassinating people.
Or that he alluded to some shady business dealings.
Or that I really didn’t care either way.
24

Carlyle
“No . . . no . . . no . . . Agh!” Slumping over the arcade machine, Valerie
groaned in frustration, and I rubbed her shoulders as she glared at the stuffed
cat she’d been trying to claw for almost twenty minutes now. “I almost had
that bastard.”
“Can I try?” I expected her to say ‘no’ again, that she would definitely get
it this time, but she surprised me when she nodded in defeat. Sticking a dollar
into the machine, I clenched my jaw under brows furrowed in concentration,
and she stepped back, but not too far. “I bet you’d be a riot at a carnival,
Valerie.”
“I’ll have you know that you’d win that bet.” Hunched over this game, I
only guffawed at her grumble, and I wiggled the joystick. This evening
hadn’t gone the way I thought it would, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad
thing. Valerie hadn’t asked me to take her home at the very least.
It was getting harder and harder to keep my damn mouth shut, and I
would be damned if Valerie didn’t have some inkling of something vague.
“If you get this on the first try, we’re breaking up.” Surprise rattled my
spine, and my head whipped to the side as my thumb bore down on the
joystick in an effort to clench a fist. Valerie jumped a little, her breath
catching, and alarm glimmered in her eyes, widening as they caught mine.
“What? It was a joke.”
“I didn’t know we were together.” Her slender brows nearly flew off her
face, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “Valerie . . . ”
“No, no, it was a joke, Carlyle. I mean, how could someone . . . ” My
cheek twitched in agitation when she trailed off, and Valerie shook her head
as an ugly, black blotch engulfed my heart and lungs. Before I could even
really think about alternatives, my mind went straight to the worst, and I
grabbed her face to squeeze. Fire scorched my throat, and she gasped as her
cheeks went pale above my stretched fingers.
“How could someone like me not be a disconnected, pompous ass,
thinking everyone’s beneath me because I have money?” Goosebumps
blanketed my entire body from the ice flooding my chest, and Valerie shook
her head hastily, her dark hair making her look ghostly, almost. Scowling
darkly, I released her to turn on my heel and walk away, but I wasn’t
expecting her to follow me.
What the fuck did she think we were doing? If I didn’t want to be around
her, I wouldn’t be.
Stuffing my fists into my pockets as my nails dug into my palms, my
scowl twisted into a sneer at the thought. If Valerie was just another slut, I
wouldn’t have fucked her. I would’ve gotten some head and ignored her any
other time. Unless I wanted something.
“Carlyle . . . Carlyle, that’s not . . . ” Frantic hands grabbed my arm, but I
didn’t break pace as Valerie practically tripped over herself, trying to keep
up. “That’s not what I was going to say, damnit! Stop walking so fast!”
“Then what?” My nasty snarl made her jump away, and my heart
squeezed even as I pinned her to a column between stores. I could feel people
staring at us, but I ignored them as the tendons in my hands bulged from the
tension zinging through me. Valerie lost some of her puff, and my throat
tightened around a growl as she so gently set her palm against my chest.
“How can someone break up with you after that kiss?” Cutting my hiss
off, Valerie’s words rolled off her tongue in a slur, and I tensed when her
hand fell from my chest. A little, tiny, sad smile crested her cheeks, and a
light extinguished in her eye as my heart palpitated painfully. “Let’s just go
back. It’s not that important, I guess.”
“The fuck does that mean, not that important? Of course, it’s important!”
What the fuck is happening right now? My elbows gave out on me as the
question dug ruts into my brain, and I suddenly found myself nose to nose
with her. “Do you think I’m doing all this because I don’t want to be with
you? For sex? For a job? What?”
“I hoped you would know what, Carlyle.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I lost my shit at that, and I
glared hotly at Valerie as she struggled not to look away. “I invited you out
because I wanted to spend time with you. That’s the only God damn reason.
Yeah, I went to your apartment because I had a shit day, and I wanted to see
you, but I didn’t invite you out as a distraction. Jesus, fuck.”
Pushing myself away roughly, I raked my hands through my hair and
down the back of my head, and Valerie crossed her arms over her bust with a
sour expression. She didn’t look the least bit scared or uneasy, but she did
look nervous, and I scoffed loudly.
 “You know what I do know, Valerie? I wasted my fucking time.” All this
fucking drama over a stuffed animal. Rolling my eyes, I turned on my heel to
storm down the causeway, and I could hear her pattering after me. Valerie
just shot the shit out of absolutely nowhere, and I blinked hard as I tried to
wrap my head around it. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, my hand shook
as I unlocked the screen, and red seeped into the edges of my vision.
I was distracted by her big ass and sharp wit. Obviously, she wasn’t lying
when she said painting and sex were all of her personality.
“Carlyle . . . ” Ignoring the call, I dialed Carl’s number, but Valerie
rushed around me to hold my phone down. “Stop . . . I . . . ”
“Take your hand off me now.” Hurt rippled across her delicate features,
and she tentatively withdrew to hold her hand to her chest as the demanding
ground through my teeth. I pulled the phone to my ear only to listen to the
ring, and I swore under my breath. I’d let Carl off for the night, and he’d
probably left his work cell in the car before heading home.
“Can you . . . can you just . . . hear me out? Please?” It physically hurt to
listen to the waver in Valerie’s tone, and I slid my phone back in my pocket
to cover my mouth tightly. She took my silence as acceptance, but I really
didn’t want to say something I’d later regret as her swimming eyes met mine.
“Please, Carlyle. I get it. I shouldn’t have made the joke. I’m sorry, okay?”
“What the fuck is with you tonight, huh?” My lip curled back, and
Valerie went a little gaunt as I scratched my jaw and neck in irritation. “Do
you need me to fucking spell it out for you or something, Valerie? It’s not
about the damn joke. Jesus, it’s . . . why are you trying to pick a fight with
me? Answer me that.”
“I wasn’t trying to do that, Carlyle. I just . . . we just . . . got our wires
crossed. I didn’t mean to imply in any way that . . . ” I fucking saw that shit
— that fraction of a second when she decided to give up, that maybe I
wouldn’t believe her, that tiny dim in her eye. “I don’t want to fight with you.
I’ll go get my phone and call an Uber.”
“Don’t . . . don’t fucking do that. Don’t try to avoid the issue.” Taking her
shoulders as gently as my stiff hands allowed, I frowned when she ducked
her head. The last half hour sped through my mind’s eye, and I clenched and
released my jaw in the ensuing, terse silence. “Did you do this because you’re
afraid to get a new phone?”
“No . . . not entirely.” I can’t get a straight answer from you, can I?
Valerie was going to set my God damn brain on fire, that’s what she was
going to do. Rocking back on my heels, I flopped my head back to exhale a
hot breath, and she leaned to rub her crown against my sternum. “Ca-can I be
on your plan?”
Surprise rocketed through me, and I lowered my gaze to find her sort of
shrinking as she hunched her shoulders. Was she really that upset about that
phone call? Then again, Valerie’s mom is involved. That woman would know
everything. Birthday, social, everything. It’s a good reason to be scared.
“Of course you can.” Wrapping my arms around her, I kissed the top of
her head, and Valerie exhaling a shuddering breath that weaved between the
buttons of my shirt. “What else is bothering you, Valerie?”
“You don’t kiss girls often. I could tell.” The short answer warmed my
cheeks, and I tangled my hand in Valerie’s hair to tug gently. Embarrassment
raged across her features, and I made it a point not to hesitate as I captured
her thick, beautiful lips. This time, she couldn’t catch me off guard, and she
sunk against my chest to slip her arms around my waist. She tasted like the
remnants of her ice cream and something so much deeper, and my tongue
snuck out to prod the seam of her mouth.
“You’re right, I don’t. Does it bother you? The pressure of knowing
that?” Her lips parted at my mumble, and Valerie’s sigh caressed my tongue
and the roof of my mouth. “You didn’t have to goad me into a fight, Valerie.
You could’ve asked to be on my plan. It’s just Verizon. If you want, I’ll open
up a line with a different service for you.”
“It’s not exactly something you ask on the . . . fourth date.” Fourth? As if
sensing my confusion, Valerie nodded as she pulled her long, mahogany
waves over her shoulder. “I count lunch on Saturday. Basically, any time we
get food or snacks or eat anything of any kind. I guess that means I should
count that morning at the coffee shop because I had coffee.”
“Alright, I get it.” Kneading her scalp, I shook my head a little, and she
cracked a smile even though tension lines formed around her mouth.
“Regardless, Valerie, I won’t expect anything. You’ll be an employee of
mine at some point. I treat my employees very well. That includes a work
cell. Okay, no more stalling. Let’s go.”
25

Valerie
“Hey, Carlyle?” Alone in the car, I couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck
was wrong with me! “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t think before everything
spiraled out of control. I didn’t expect you to think that’s what I was gonna
say . . . about you being so successful.”
“It’s fine, Valerie. I can’t imagine the stress you’re under with your mom,
not having a job, and no phone, until right now. It’s a lot of time to kill.”
Guilt clawed at my throat despite his assurance, and Carlyle reached across
the center console to grab my hand. “I apologize, too, for grabbing you like
that. I jumped the gun, and we wouldn’t have argued if I let you keep
talking.”
“Do people really treat you that way?” He nodded firmly, seemingly
unabashed, and my heart dropped as I weaved my fingers around his. “That’s
awful.”
“I’ve dealt with it my entire life. For the record, that’s also why I don’t
date much. I’m pretty much a walking dollar sign. I got disillusioned with it
when I realized the number scale is a thing for a reason.” My brows rose in
alarm, and his cheek twitched as he cast me a somewhat playful glance, but
not enough to make me think he wasn’t entirely serious. “You break the
scale, so you don’t have to worry.”
“You rate a girl’s looks and put a cap on spending? Really?” Today—
well, the past three and a half hours— were just so eye-opening, and Carlyle
actually chuckled a little condescendingly. “What happened when they ran
out of money?”
“It’s not like they didn’t know it was coming. I was a little shit in high
school and hadn’t figured out the finesse of a good business transaction. I
told her straight up what number I thought she was, and I wasn’t going to
spend a single penny more than that number. If I thought she was a six, she’d
get six hundred dollars. And personality did count, but it was high school for
rich people, so . . . ”
“That’s nuts for too many reasons. What’s the most you ever spent on a
girl?” That sounded so wrong without context, and Carlyle flicked on his
blinker as we came up on a pretty nice hotel he’d looked up. My own phone
sat in its box, in a bag by my feet, and he untangled our fingers to grip the
wheel.
“Ah . . . four was the highest. Like I said, I was an asshole in high school.
Even if the girls were very good looking, I took personality into account
because I knew they didn’t have one. I didn’t do it often. My dad was riding
my ass because I was going to start at one of his management companies the
summer I turned sixteen. I got promoted once a year, and now here I am.”
Turning into the hotel parking lot, Carlyle cast me a cheeky smirk, and my
abdomen twisted at how handsome he was. “I bet you thought I was going to
say something stupid like eight.”
“Not really. That’s a lot of money for me, though— like, it’s a third of
my rent right now. I can’t imagine it was a lot for girls like that.” Parking at
the valet as I thought on it some more, Carlyle hummed in acknowledgment,
and I gnawed on my inner cheek. “Why a four? What’d she expect to be?”
“A four because she was hot but had the second nastiest personality of
anyone I’ve ever met, and also she really sucked in bed. She never told me
what she expected to be, but by the way she slapped me, it wasn’t even
close.” Puffing out my lips in surprise, my brows furrowed at that, and
Carlyle shut the car off to lean back in the seat. Tilting to meet my eye, he
reached to caress my jaw, and flames crept up my neck at the sincerity
blazing from his gaze. “If I had to put a number on you on a scale of one to
ten, it’s been thirty-two.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as flames licked my cheeks, and he smirked
broadly before unbuckling. Following suit, I wondered where else this
conversation would go, but I didn’t push it on the way into the hotel. He
passed off the keys and got a ticket, and I gazed up at the glass and steel
building stretching into the sky. Lights spilled out of the glass doors lining
one side of one corner of the place, but it wasn’t long before I was passing
through them and into the lobby.
Most hotels looked the same as the ones on TV, and this was no different.
Carlyle spoke to the receptionist, got his keycard, and everything was a blur
of normalcy. The urge to actually ask him about all the hints he’d been
dropping, and why he dropped them, clawed at the back of my throat. After
all, he knew I was avoiding telling him what was really bothering me, and I
got sucked into it all in those moments between moments.
“Today was a huge mess. Can we start over in the morning?” The beep of
the door release broke my daze, and I turned to Carlyle as he grabbed my
hand to tug me through the threshold. “I don’t know how to fix this . . .
contention.”
“I’d like that, yeah.” He didn’t bother flicking on a light or anything, but
the room seemed to be just that— a bedroom with a little closet and
kitchenette in the corner, judging by the silhouettes. Pausing when my knees
touched the foot of the bed, I unlaced my leather pants to slide them down
my legs. The ruffling of Carlyle’s clothes being shed was almost a relief, not
excitement, and goosebumps rose on my skin when he pulled off my tank
top.
I hadn’t worn a bra, and my chest warmed as Carlyle wrapped me up in a
bear hug and cupped the back of my head. In the dark, all I could do was feel
his rigid, toned body, his heart steadily beating against my cheek, and his
heat seeping into me. My eyelids fluttered closed, my body deflating in a
heavy sigh, and he rested his cheek against my crown as I branded this
feeling deep into my brain.
“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you at the pizza place,
Valerie?” Carlyle’s gruff tone accompanied his arms tightening around me
like he was afraid I’d run away before he even got to say what he wanted to
say. “I thought you were perfect. I don’t feel a lot of self-doubts, but I can
honestly say I worried I wasn’t good enough for you. I have never thought
about giving up my role in my own life, but I would, in a heartbeat, for you,
and that prospect is terrifying because I don’t know who I am if I’m not the
boss.”
“I don’t know whether you surpassed your own standards or just
magically heightened mine to match, then.” There was absolutely not a single
iota of humor to be found anywhere, and I slid my palms up his bareback as I
nuzzled his chest hair. “It’s a good thing my life’s such a mess that I don’t
have anything more to give up. I can just fit right into yours. I told my sister
there’s just gotta be something devastatingly deal-break-ery about you,
Carlyle, but there’s not.”
“Your closet is thirty-five percent pencil skirts. You’ll fit in beautifully.”
Ours could’ve been a funny moment if it wasn’t so deeply laden in such
serious undertones and silent words. As if Carlyle and I understood each
other on such a fundamental level that we didn’t even need to speak. Maybe,
I was fooling myself, and he just had a crap sense of humor about the
ultimate power of powering the global economy.
 Though, I had the sneaking suspicion that he didn’t.
So sweetly, Carlyle tugged the ends of my hair, and I lifted myself onto
my toes. His kiss said all the things he didn’t, and I opened my mouth to
tangle my tongue around his. The chapped roughness of his lips seared mine,
and he reached down to hook his arm under my butt to hoist me up. Even as
my thighs clung to him, I only felt the faintest flicker of desire, and his
muscles played against my nakedness as he set me on the bed.
Hovering above me on his knees and elbows, Carlyle deepened the kiss,
and my tongue throbbed with the overwhelming taste of him. Cupping his
face, I wrapped my legs around him proper, and he nestled between them to
pin me to the mattress.
“Valerie . . . ” He breathed my name like I was his Eden, and Carlyle
rolled onto his side to gather me to his broad chest. His arms were security,
and I cuddled against him with the full knowledge that I’d never get any
better than him.
26

Valerie
A shrill ringing interrupted my stuffing my face with pancakes drenched in
syrup, and Carlyle didn’t even look at his phone before declining the call.
Chewing my large bite, I smiled as he piled eggs onto his toast, but before he
could get it into his mouth, his phone went off again. Irritation morphed in
his features, but I nodded as he reached to snatch it and swipe the screen.
“What?” Putting down his fork, Carlyle grabbed his coffee as he frowned
under furrowed brows. His gaze flickered to me warily, jaw ticking as he held
his mug to his lips, but the irritation on his face eventually faded away before
he wordlessly hung up. Setting the device face down, he took a swig of his
brew, and I licked my lips heavily as I watched a drop slip down the side of
the ceramic. “So, I don’t need your sister to write the program for me
anymore. Jerry figured it out. I’ll still pay her for what she did, but that’s
alright for you because you can get started on your thing when we get back.”
“Oh, okay. I can text her and let her know.” I’d left the phone in the car,
and a certain kind of anxiety gripped me as Carlyle nodded in agreement.
“Do you think getting the phone under your name was enough?”
“Even if it wasn’t, I’m fully confident that you and your sister will be
fine.” Reaching across the table, Carlyle squeezed my fingers reassuringly as
darkness flashed in his eyes. “Trust me.”
“I do.” I answered faster than I thought I could talk, and he smiled as I
stood up to round the small table and straddle his lap. The heat of him
wrapped around me, and I cupped his hard jaw to kiss him as he shamelessly
groped my ass. Moaning softly, desire smoldered beneath my tank top, and
he caressed my sides as his fingers snuck under the thin fabric. He tasted
strongly of coffee, and I opened my mouth for his tongue as warm, calloused
palms kneaded my breasts.
“A guy could get used to this.” Goosebumps swept across my chest, and
my nipples tightened as Carlyle slopped open-mouthed kisses down my neck.
Shivering when he pulled my shirt off completely, I arched into his hands,
and greedy lips clamped around my nipple. Shocks of pleasure surged south,
and I gripped the back of his chair to grind against him.
 The soft silk of Carlyle’s boxers burned my thighs, and I closed my eyes
and tossed my head back to savor his attention. Squeezing my breasts
together, he scraped his tongue along the pert peaks, and a gasp escaped me
as eroticism flooded my chest. Reaching between us, he worked his hand into
my panties to circle my clit, and my abdomen clenched as he kissed his way
back to my mouth.
“You little slut, you’re so wet.” My lips parted in a silent moan when
Carlyle teased my entrance, but he didn’t linger before reaching to grip my
ass hard. Standing up in one swift display of pure physical strength, he
carried me over to the bed, and I panted softly as expectant thrill raced
through my veins. “Stick that perfect ass in the air and bounce.”
“Only if you spank me.” Even as I posed my condition, my body shuffled
on its own, and Carlyle chuckled a sultry sound that rolled up my back. On
my knees, my skin jumped when he pulled down my panties to caress my ass
cheeks, and I wiggled my hips. Bracing my forearms on the mattress, I
gasped when he bit the globe firmly— not hard, but more than a graze of his
teeth. The bed dipped, and he spread my ass to peel my slick folds with
thumbs.
“Valerie . . . ” The worshipful lilt in Carlyle’s voice thickened the
goosebumps blanketing every inch of me, and my toes curled against the
sheet bunched up under me. My core clenched, and his breath hitched as he
leaned to conform to my back. Kissing my shoulder, he pulled his cock out of
his boxers to swipe the head between my folds, and I rolled my hips against
his.
Thrusting to slather his shaft in my juices, Carlyle slid his thumb inside
me, and I arched with a low moan as pleasure rippled up my spine. His heat
disappeared, and he wiggled his thumb before pulling out to poise his head at
my quivering entrance. Gripping the sheet tightly, I rocked back on my
knees, and the thick ridge of his cock stretched my entrance.
“Fuck, Valerie . . . bounce that ass on my cock.” My thighs touched my
heels, and Carlyle jiggled my ass with greedy palms as I wiggled my hips.
His thick, silky cock caressed my walls as they hugged him tighter, and he
ground his hips against me to reach deep. The fine hairs on my back stood up
when he raised his palm, and I clenched in preparation just before he spanked
me firmly.
Pleasure beat against my eye sockets as I jolted from the impact, and
Carlyle growled in satisfaction. Rocking forward, I set a steady pace, and my
moans muffled in the bed to match his sputtered gasps and grunts. Sweat
dribbled between my shoulder blades, and I pushed myself onto unsteady
arms to flip my hair out of my face. Gathering up the strands, he pulled my
head back, and I gasped when he snapped his hips against mine.
His cock caressed my walls, the veins pulsing with each thrust, and I
whimpered when Carlyle smacked my ass harder. Rolling my hips to his
beat, I lost myself in the utter euphoria of his powerful muscles flexing
against me. Tugging me off my hands, he grappled my breasts to squeeze,
and the rigidness of his chest played against my back. Tweaking my nipples
as he filled my channel, his pants rolled down between my breasts, and I
moaned loudly.
“Yeah, you better like that.” Short, sharp fingernails dragged down my
abdomen, and Carlyle gripped my hip hard to hold me down. Thrusting hard,
the jolt of him against my back rippled with such power that my eyes rolled,
and I tilted my head back to bury my face in his neck. Little high-pitched
whines escaped me with each, jarring thrust, the smack of skin on skin
thickening the dense atmosphere to the point that it was hard to breathe.
“I’m gonna come . . . I’m gonna . . . I’m-m comin-n-g . . . yes-s! Carlyle!
Fuck me . . . just like that!” The veins of his cock gyrated my inner walls as I
tensed, the pleasure building until it spilled over, and he growled hungrily in
my ear. My whine echoed beyond the blood that pounded against my
eardrums to the beat of him, and his heart thundered against my back.
Clamping down on his hard girth, my hands flew up to disappear in his hair,
and he nibbled my shoulder as he ground his hips against my ass.
“Holy fuck-k . . . ” I could hear it in Carlyle’s voice that he was close, his
moan straining, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I panted like
a greedy bitch. “Shit . . . shit . . . ”
Clenching around his cock as it throbbed, I sputtered a breath at his hard,
unsteady pace, and Carlyle pushed me down to pull out at the last second. I
couldn’t turn around fast enough, and eagerness watered my mouth as I
wrapped my lips around his head. Peeling back his foreskin, I groaned at the
mingling taste of us, and he buried his fists in my hair to take complete
control.
“Fuck . . . oh, fuck . . . Valerie . . . choke on my cock.” I don’t know what
I was expecting, but the roughness of him fucking my face was arguably
more of a turn-on than the actual sex itself. Gagging around his thick cock, I
cupped his sac and squeezed, and he thrust hard to bend down the curve of
my throat. My juices dribbled off my clit, and I reached between my legs to
pleasure myself as he hissed from high above me.
Arching sharply when Carlyle’s curls tickled my nose just the wrong
way, I gagged viciously, and he pulled back just far enough to let me rasp a
breath. Tiny tears escaped my shuttered lids, and I caressed his shaft with my
lips as the need to taste him completely overwhelmed me.
“Come . . . come in my mouth . . . oh G—” Cutting me off as he surged
down my throat, Carlyle’s pelvis kissed my chin, and I choked violently. My
throat closed around his spongy head, and I caressed his sac as I abandoned
my clit to stroke his shaft. Two sharp thrusts of his hips were all it took, and
his cock rippled against the roof my mouth as he pulled back to cum. Hot and
salty, his ecstasy slathered my tongue and cheeks, and I sucked his tip as he
groaned and gasped haltingly.
“You know, maybe I was wrong about your oral skills.” Panting harshly,
his toned muscles twitching under skin taut and glistening with sweat,
Carlyle’s voice trembled. Gulping down my mouthful, I licked his softening
cock before he tugged on my hair, and he captured my lips voraciously. “I
could get used to that.”
“I love sucking your cock . . . ugh . . . ” Hooking his arm around my
waist, Carlyle smirked at my groan, and I let the residual emptiness of my
mind linger. Resting my cheek on his shoulder, I closed my eyes and heaved
a hot breath, and his taste tingled my buds. “Why didn’t you like it?”
“I guess it was just something degrading to me, something humiliating.
It’s just how I’ve always felt about it. The last time I got a blowjob, the slut
talked more than anything else, too . . . it was really irritating.” I didn’t have
the mind to argue with those points, and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t. “I
thought you didn’t like it?”
“I don’t, but when you pulled my hair, and I didn’t have to sprain my
neck, or choke myself . . . ” My mouth watered just talking about it, and I
sighed shakily as Carlyle flopped forward to spoon me. Powerful arms
wrapped me up, legs tangling, and I closed my eyes as he took a deep breath
against my back. “I’d go through that again. Every guy I’ve been with
expects me to do all the work.”
“When we get back, I’ll face fuck you before I go to work. Deal?”
Chuffing a rasping giggle, I nodded, and Carlyle tightened his arms around
me as he exhaled over my shoulder.
27

Carlyle
Zipping my pants on my way down the stairs, I ran both my hands through
my hair before checking the time on my phone. Despite the sex, the late-
night, the traffic, I wasn’t going to be too late this morning. When I emerged
from Valerie’s apartment building, Carl was waiting, and the car I’d driven
around yesterday had disappeared back to my garage.
“Step on it. I’ve got shit to catch up on.” Before I even shut the door, Carl
was pulling off the curb, and I propped my elbow on the door as the past day
raced through my mind’s eye. I didn’t want to ruin my time with Valerie, but
gears were starting to turn, and I, unfortunately, had to have a little chat with
the Italian princess rotting in her own piss and shit in my basement.
At least Jerry’s replacement wasn’t entirely incompetent and found out
the original voice in that video.
Glancing over at Theo, a scowl on his face and his knee bouncing from
agitation, I cocked my head in silent question. He scoffed quietly, turning
away from me, but I knew he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut for long.
“Illya’s been restless for weeks.” Grinding my teeth at that, I only
nodded, and Theo rubbed his mangled palm against his jeans as if it itched.
“I’ve felt the same anxiety since she brought it up, like some shit’s gonna go
down. I don’t think Vegas is a good idea right now, Carlyle.”
“We’ll see what information Isobel coughs up after marinating in her own
shit for a few days before we make any decisions.” I tapped my cheek as my
mind raced, still scrambled from Valerie’s voracity, and I cleared my throat
roughly. “Who’s voice is it?”
“Diamon’s.” A harsh bark of laughter burst from my chest at Carl’s reply,
and I clenched and released my fist in my lap. “How’d he know whatever he
knew, though? That’s kinda the real question.”
“Oh, I have a feeling I know exactly how he figured it out.” That Italian
scum was smarter than I gave him credit for— not by much, though.
Apparently, he was capable of some rudimentary scheming, even if it was
crude. Carl sped up at my growl, and my heel tapped against the floor mat as
a few more pieces fell into place.
 Isobel wasn’t good for much but being a pawn. When her plan with Wren
fell apart, she must’ve had him assassinated at Diamon’s suggestion. Because
he’s a spineless, dickless piece of shit, who thinks he’s too good to get dirty.
When she started making infiltration moves on her own so sloppy, he needed
to get rid of her.
That much was obvious. The only part that didn’t fit was how did he
know my father was going to hand me the reins when it wasn’t decided until
Mateo fucked up?
“Theo, what do you say we have a boys’ night out at a certain bar?”
Casting him a dark smirk, I sat up a little as Theo shrugged, rolling his eyes a
little. “I think that snake slithered into the wrong fucking bed.”
“You think she made a deal with Diamon?” I almost cringed, hearing that
idiot’s name so often in such a short time frame, but I managed to simply
shake my head. Theo frowned under furrowed brows, and I knocked my
temple softly before his face morphed in a scowl. “You think she interfered
somehow, though. Fuck this shit, Carlyle, you know I suck at this shit.”
“She sells girls she sees no potential in. What if she unknowingly got a
girl that wasn’t as downtrodden as she seemed? And what if that girl wiggled
her way into my operation somehow? This is starting to get exciting.” He
only sneered at me, turning back to the window, and my smirk widened.
“Yes, it really is. At least I know one thing right now. Valerie’s not going to
get caught up in the middle of this, which is nice. Not to say she’s not going
to get caught in her own shit, but I don’t have to worry for right now.”
“You don’t buy girls, boss.” Piping up from the driver’s seat, Carl took a
hard turn, and I suddenly felt even better about today.
“I don’t, no, but my brothers do.” And that was all that needed to be said.
I’d get the Italians, one or both of my brothers, and Valerie and her sister
were going to be fine. Everything was fucking peachy. “I’m going to enjoy
this.”
My body moved on autopilot when we finally pulled into the compound,
and I rode the elevator to the basement as my thoughts consumed my
attention. How was I going to personally kill Isobel? There were so many
options! So many, it was almost dizzying. Just this once, I was going to enjoy
it, and she would know who the haunt when her fake ass got stuck in limbo.
When I opened the metal door to her room, she jumped with a petrified
shriek, and I downright grinned. The rank stench of piss-stained her dress and
pooled at her feet, eating away at the fabric and her skin, but it barely
registered. Huge, terrified eyes met mine, bloodshot and bulging, and I
clapped my hands exaggeratedly as Theo closed the door behind me.
“Congratulations, you dumb cunt! I’ve decided that since I’m in such a
good mood, I’ll let you go as soon as you answer my questions. And be
truthful— lying will just sour my day, and you don’t want that.” I hauled
myself onto the table to rub my neck and shoulders with both hands, just
needing to do something. Isobel was quiet, a hope flickering in her eye, and I
cocked my head. “Did Diamon know you tried to meet with Esmarissa?”
“Yeah. He tried to talk me out of it because she wouldn’t listen, and he
was right.”
“How long ago did the meet happen? Did he know then, or did he find
out afterward?” She was so fucking stupid, and I held up my hand when
Isobel opened her mouth instantly. “Also, where did you meet?”
“I invited her to New York about a year and a half, maybe twenty-one
months ago. Diamon knew about it at the time, and he knew when it fell
through. He made sure to rub it in my face.” I nodded when Isobel confirmed
my suspicion, and she leaned forward in the chair despite her arms tied
behind the back. “Can you at least untie me? I’ll tell you anything you want
to know, Carlyle. You promised to let me go.”
“Theo.” He was already fishing his knife from his pocket, and she
slumped in relief as I calculated my next question. “Diamon mentioned you
talked to someone from Texas about killing Wren. What about?”
Isobel didn’t say anything as she was cut free— her arms, at least— and
she rubbed her wrists and rolled her shoulders. I let her have this moment,
and she sat up a little straighter before clearing her throat.
“The guy had an accent, but he was who I hired to kill Wren. He’s
worked for me before, so I knew I could trust him to get the job done.
Standard stuff, mostly.” She panted a little from talking so much after such an
ordeal, and I licked my teeth as my eyes narrowed on her. “There was no way
Diamon could know he had a Texan accent unless he bugged my phone. We
were never that close, and I don’t have names or any personal details on the
guy. I don’t even know if the accent is real. I don’t care. He killed Wren like I
needed him to. That’s all the information we ever shared.”
“Really? Diamon made it seem like you were your usual, whiny cunt self.
It’s probably the most believable lie he could sell me, of course. He might’ve
been smart enough to think I was already going to kidnap you and wring your
neck, and he gave me a little push. Then, after I had you, he sent me a video
intended for my father, which, well, let’s face it, that’s not going to do
anything, anyway.” Big, brown eyes widened, and I hopped off the table to
circle Isobel, still sitting in her own puddle of filth. My brows furrowed over
my slight frown, and I waved a thoughtful hand as her information gave me a
full picture. “I feel so bad for your father for having such idiot children. Not a
good single one in the whole bunch. I mean, when you name your kid
‘Diamon,’ I suppose it’s expected that he’ll be a fucking imbecile. It only
makes me want to crush you grease monkeys even more finely under my
heel.”
“W-what-t?” Looming over her as her face paled a sickly yellowish-
green, I frowned at the alarm brightening her fevered eyes. “You promised to
let me go!”
“Go where, though? When? How? See, if you were smart, Isobel, you’d
realize there’s no way you’re getting out of this room. You could’ve kept
your mouth shut, and the outcome would’ve been the same, but you could’ve
still stuck it to me. You should’ve been more specific with your demands.
Instead, you wasted away here, simmering in your own piss like the ugly
creature you are.” Holding out my hand to Theo, I took the warm gun he
always carried and pressed the barrel to Isobel’s cheek. She whimpered
pathetically even as the light died in her eyes, and I hadn’t even pulled the
trigger yet. For a second, I watched her slump in defeat and man! It felt so
good! “You know what, I’m not going to kill you, Isobel. You’ve been so
helpful, after all.”
But she knew dying was her best option, and I was kind of disappointed
when he just sunk so low in her chair. Piss dribbled on the floor, the
disgusting reek of shit pluming all around her, and I walked out before
handing Theo his gun back.
“Guard the door.” Carl waited patiently, a huge toolbox by his feet, and I
nodded curtly at him. “Weld it shut.”
28

Carlyle
Leaning back in my chair, I ran my hand over my head as my father and
brothers waded into the room. I could tell just from a glance that they knew
something was up, and I honestly enjoyed watching them squirm— well, not
my father. He never squirmed.
Oran probably had the best picture of them all, and I’d taken all night to
figure out how I wanted to approach this. My eldest younger brother had his
kittens, and he gave them a fair amount of trust. Granted, he supposedly
thoroughly ensured they were completely and utterly helpless by that time. Of
course, Mateo’s little problem had been rectified, so he was out.
Illya slipped into the room behind them to stand next to Theo, and I
drummed my fingertips on my desk as I gazed at the four of them. Despite
what she said, she hadn’t made any friends with anyone since coming here. It
was a telltale indicator she wasn’t as ‘good’ as she pretended to be.
This was going to be hard on her.
“I’ve decided to let the Italian problem go for now. We have a bigger
issue to deal with.” I’d been working on this a long time, well over a year
now, and Oran opened his mouth only to pause when I held up my hand. “I
said ‘I have decided’ not ‘this is open to debate, but . . . ’, so allow me to
continue before you start screeching.”
I let the silence stretch right to the cusp of discomfort before nodding, and
I sat up to take a breath in preparation.
“I wondered about it at the time, but never got a real answer. How could a
woman get you to fall in love with her, Mateo? Of course, money is a
motivator, and that thing certainly had some need for it, if what I understand
is true.” Illya pulled an uncomfortable face at my words, but Theo grabbed
her arm to stop her from sinking back. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and while
it’s not entirely unreasonable, you’re stupid enough to get a random pregnant,
you were very torn up about its passing.”
“You made me kill her.” Mateo’s snarl wasn’t nearly as nasty as he
thought, and I held up a hand quickly to silence him.
“The details don’t matter. The point is that you fell hook, line, and sinker
for it in a very short amount of time. You were in California for a while, and
yet, it wasn’t until late last year that your whirlwind romance happened.
While I’m all for young love, life doesn’t work like that. So . . . ” Clapping
my palms on the desk, I stood up to stare my youngest brother in his haggard,
drawn face, and I had to actively fight back a smirk. “Was it your money it
was after, or did someone pay it to like you? Honestly, the second option
there seems far more likely.”
“You’re an asshole, Carlyle.” My eyelid twitched at Mateo’s grumble, my
lip curling up instead of out, and he visibly shrunk. “So, what’s your point?”
“My point is that my darling Isobel and her idiot brother knew Dad was
going to hand me ownership of everything, and I certainly didn’t tell them.”
My gaze flickered to Oran to narrow, and I stood up straight as the cogs
worked behind his hazel eyes. “One of you bought an Italian slut sent to spy
on you.”
“Even if she was working for the Italians, she’s dead. What’s that got to
do with not taking them over?” Even now, after knowing how stupid and
impractical he was, Mateo still sounded incredibly sad, and I rolled my eyes
at him.
“You really haven’t learned anything, have you? You didn’t even know
about my promotion, Mateo, which just leaves . . . ” Training my gaze on
Oran, I stalked around my desk, and he tensed as his expression washed in
stone. “Where are your whores now, Oran?”
“In case you didn’t remember, I properly break them, and if they don’t
pass, I put them down myself.”
“Oh, I remember. Even if it was one of your kittens, you’ve been living in
England and have too much jealousy over me to go to the Italians, of all
people— you know just as well as I do that they can’t get the job done.” I
really, really, really enjoyed the confusion in the room right now, and I
smirked at the irritation on Oran’s face. “I don’t think you’ve quite broken
them as hard as you thought, Oran. That thing Mateo got pregnant was
probably contacted by Isobel. Since it’s only fair, put all your kittens down.”
Oran paled, and for a brief second, I saw how much it pained him to
contemplate what I’d demanded. Money aside, he loved his kittens in some
fucked up way, but now was not the time to fight for their rights to live. He
nodded, raking his hand through his perfectly styled hair, and I thought for a
moment that his glasses fogged up.
“Illya.” Turning to her, I pursed my lips thinly, and Illya looked ready to
just throw down. “I need you to prove your loyalty to me. Considering that
thing was your friend, I can’t rule you out as a possibility.”
“Fine.” Croaking harshly, she had to physically pry Theo’s hand off her
finger by clawing finger, and a thick bruise was already budding on her wrist.
She pushed back her hair, her chin jutting out and determination glimmering
in her bright, green eyes even as she gulped nervously. “What do you want
me to do?”
Just at that moment, Carl popped open the door and wheeled in a sizeable
box with just one item on it. The pliers were brand new, never been opened
until today, and all eyes turned to him as he shuffled through the crowd. Theo
sucked in a sharp breath, but I ignored him, glaring daggers at me to watch
Illya’s birdlike features twist.
“Pick a limb— hand or foot.” This time, the demand rolled heavily off
my tongue, and she shuddered noticeably as my brothers and father moved to
the corner of the room. “You only have to do one.”
“That’s so dumb. Of course, I’m gonna do my foot, you . . . you . . . you
asshole.” I let that slide as she sputtered wildly, her nerves stringing her voice
like a bad violin. Kicking off her sneaker and yanking her sock, she
straightened her shoulders before glaring me in the eye. “Theo leaves.”
“Fine.” Theo might actually kill me if he stays, anyway. He started
hyperventilating the way a bull did right before bursting from the pen, and
the veins bulged around the reddening scars on his face. His teeth ground
loud enough to hear, and I almost grabbed the phone on my desk to call for
someone to escort him out.
“I’m gonna kill you one day.” A sliver of fear struck me right between the
eyes at his whisper— not a growl, not a snarl, but a very, very quiet, very
shaky whisper. Theo shuffled out, his shoulders trembling, the back of a
broken man.
For the first time, I realized how much it must suck to be in a relationship
in which both participants work for me.
“Why did you chose this?” Snapping from the empty doorway, my gaze
narrowed on Illya as she folded and worked her hands. “If it was about the
pain, you could just poke me in the tit, and it’d be worse.”
“I don’t want your pain, Illya. I want proof. I believe wholeheartedly, you
had nothing to do with that thing or any of this, but you know that’s not
enough. I can’t have anyone question my employees. Just like Oran, I’m
telling you to do something that will be very difficult on you, something that
goes against everything you are. There’s nothing I can do that’ll cause you
more pain than you’re constantly in. It’d be stupid to ask you to do anything
else, too, because I need you for your looks. You need all your fingers, so I
can’t just cut one-off.” Everything Illya had been through had been of
someone else's making, and she’d fought so hard to getaway. Now, she’d
have no choice but to inflict damage on herself. As someone who put self-
preservation above all, it was the worst thing I could demand of her.
She gulped, her slender neck flexing before she nodded firmly, and Illya
put her foot on the box to grab the pliers in trembling hands. The ribs gripped
her toenail, and my stomach roiled at the sudden calm that lightened the
atmosphere. Flexing her unstable grip on the tool, she gathered up her hair
sloppily, and my brows rose when she punched herself in the upper abdomen.
Illya jerked her toenail off as a bloodcurdling, gurgled cry filled the room
and echoed out the open door. She turned green, body heaving as her skin
instantly slicked with a cold sweat. Nothing I’d ever seen was as horrific as
this, but determination still defined her thin brows as she wiped away her
tears. Blood seeped from her toe as she moved onto the next one, and she
took a loud, rattling breath before ripping out that nail by the root.
I didn’t do the disservice of looking away, and Illya went through all five
toes before dropping the pliers with a loud clatter. She didn’t collapse like I’d
expected, flipping her hair even as it stuck to her face to glare at me. Tilting
my head in acceptance, I clenched my jaw hard as she wobbled out, and the
whole complex seemed to shudder when she leaned hard against the wall out
of sight.
“Oran, bring all of them here. I’m going to watch you do the job to make
sure you don’t try to hide one.” Glancing at my brother as he nodded,
defeated, I scanned my brother standing, solemn, on one side of my office.
“From now on, if you go against me, I won’t look the other way. You can
pull that shit with Dad, but not me.”
Again, Oran nodded, the muscles in his arms straining as he clenched and
released his fists in his pants pockets. Flickering to Mateo, my eyes narrowed
into slits, and he looked about ready to throw up. Maybe, I’d been wrong, and
letting my father take his reins was a mistake.
“You’re being sent to the city. I’ll give you the details when you get
there. Fuck it up, and I’ll kill you myself, Mateo. I no longer have the time or
inclination to deal with you. I’m not cleaning up your messes anymore.”
Flicking my wrist at the door, both my brothers shuffled out quietly, and I sat
up on my desk to run my hands up my face. My dad closed the door behind
him, and I was left alone with a ringing in my ears.
29

Valerie
“What do you think of this, Fred?” Turning over my sketch pad, I propped
my elbows on the table, and Fred grinned like a little boy seeing a lollipop he
didn’t earn. “It’s just the sketch, so it can be changed.”
“No . . . no, that’s perfect.” The kitchen table was a complete mess of
papers, and I gazed over the spine of my book as Fred nodded firmly.
“You’re a really talented horror illustrator. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
“Not specifically. I just get told a lot that my stuff has dark undertones.”
Pride bubbled in my chest when Fred’s smile widened, and Natasha sat back
in her chair to groan loudly.
“There’s so much to do. Who knew making an app like this was so
difficult?” Marshal raised his hand, not bothering to look up from whatever
he was reading on his tablet, and I opened my mouth only to get cut off by
the doorbell ringing. Pushing myself up, I skirted the living room with a pep
in my step, and I couldn’t be happier with the progress we were making.
Sure, it was a lot of work, but that made it so much better.
Not that Natasha ever appreciated hard work. She liked things easy.
Opening the door, my brows rose when no one stood on the other side,
and I stuck my head out of the threshold. A glimmer caught my eye and
dragged my gaze downward, and a slight frown dragged down my lips.
“Hey, Nat, did you drunk buy something online again?” Picking up the
sizeable package, my frown deepened at the weight. “It’s pretty heavy— that
means expensive!”
“I haven’t gotten drunk in days. I’m saving myself for Vegas.” Puffing
out my lips, I set the box on the sofa to be ignored for now, and I snuck my
phone out of my jean pocket. “Maybe it’s a present from your boyfriend!”
Huffing softly, I opened my unread text from Carlyle and rolled my lips
between my teeth.
Carlyle: I’m glad things are going well. After we get back, I’ll introduce
you to your marketing director.
Typing a quick reply, I wandered back into the kitchen to plop in my
chair to sigh heavily. Either this project would go well, or it’d sink fast. We
had to work to make it good, and my gaze flickered around the circular table.
All I had to do was focus on concept art right now, but Fred had a clear
vision of where he wanted this to go. He was a much better manager than
Paul, and I licked my lips heavily.
“So, I’ll just run with this for now, and we’ll make changes as we go
along.” Nods all around, and I cleared my throat as I grabbed my sketchbook.
“Don’t worry about anything but banging out il—” A shrill beep cut Fred
off, and I twisted with confusion, scrunching up my nose under furrowed
brows. Natasha and I shared a weird look. The beep wasn’t coming from the
stove or any phone, and I stood up to follow the sound. Pulling my phone out,
I unlocked the screen to tap Carlyle’s number as I drifted into the living
room.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you know, you could’ve just brought my present to me yourself. It
would’ve meant a lot more.” Palpable confusion rose the hairs on my cheek,
and I held my phone between my ear and shoulder. “What?”
“I didn’t send you anything. What present?” The sharp edge of his voice
stiffened my knees, and I pushed my hair back to hold my phone against my
ear. “What is that sound in the background?”
“You didn’t send it?” My gaze locked on the sofa, and dread curdled my
blood as the beeping droned in my ear. “We didn’t buy anything online. Nat
hasn’t drunk shopped in a while.”
“Is there a return address?” Anxiety beaded my upper lip as I peeked over
the back of the couch, and I shook my head before remembering Carlyle
couldn’t see me. “Get out of the apartment, Valerie. I’ll be there in two
minutes.”
“What? Why?” Backing up as I posed the questions, I tensed as my
thoughts stalled. “Oh fuck . . . is there, like, a bomb in the box or something!”
“Valerie, shut the fuck up and get out, damnit!” I couldn’t hear anything
but that beeping even as the air rippled against my back, and my legs locked
as fear gripped my spine in a vice. “Fucking punch it, Carl!”
“Oh fuck . . . oh my God . . . Carlyle . . . is there a bomb in the box? Oh
shit . . . ” My eyes ached, and my lungs seized as I shook my head wildly.
Suddenly, the beep went silent, and my heart throbbed from its furious pace.
Blood drummed in my ears, and I choked on the lump in my throat when two
hands grabbed my arms and yanked me back.
Tile sent tendrils of frigid cold up my legs, and my grip on my phone
tightened before a horrible boom rattled the very foundation of the apartment.
Dust and smoke surged into the kitchen, and I crouched down to cover my
head as a shriek burst from my throat. Ringing assaulted my ears, and my
teeth trembled in their sockets from the ripples in the air.
“Oh . . . shit, Valerie . . . hey . . . hey . . . ” Squeezing my eyes shut
tighter, I barely registered Fred’s call even when he shook my shoulders. “It’s
okay. It’s fine.”
The sickening shattering of glass banged around in my skull, and I
whipped around as the television mounted on the wall fell flat onto the floor.
The sofa had been knocked back a few feet, at least, and I knocked back on
my ass to scoot back.
“What the fuck? What the fuck . . . fuck . . . fuck . . . ” There was a huge
piece of wood blown out the back of the couch embedded in the floor where
I’d just been standing. I was literally just standing there a second ago!
“Hey, Val, look at me.” Grabbing my face between his palms, Fred
seemed excruciatingly calm, and he nodded with a little, reassuring smile.
“You’re alright. Let’s get out of here. Can you walk?”
“I-I-I . . . ” A low groan cut off my stutter, and my eyes snapped to
Natasha as she hoisted herself up onto her hands and knees. The table had
been knocked over, and she pushed a chair off her to shake her head roughly.
“Nat . . . Nat . . . oh, fuck!”
Crawling over to her, I wrapped my arms around my sister as my tears
spilled out, and she gripped me in a deadly bear hug. Wrapping my legs
around her, I struggled to breathe in her grip, but I didn’t care because at least
I could still do it.
“Marshal . . . hey, Marshal, we gotta go, man.”
“How can you be so fucking calm? We almost got blown up!” Aghast,
Marshal practically screamed, and I winced at the high pitch, assaulting my
ears. “Fuck, Fred!”
“I worked for a comic book place, dude— those fans are really passionate
and get really angry. We got threats and stuff all the time. It wasn’t that bad a
blast— good thing she put it on the sofa.” Fred’s calm voice floated in and
out of the ringing in my ears, and I shivered as Natasha cupped the back of
my head. “Furniture saved Hitler’s life, you know.”
“Valerie . . . ” Whimpering at the touch on my shoulder, I tightened my
grip on my sister, and she on me. “It’s okay. It’s alright. You need to stand
up, okay.”
 “N-no . . . I’m not moving.” The crackling of wood splintering ripped
through my apartment, and the floor trembled from heavy, stomping feet.
“Get the fuck out of the way.” My dazed mind couldn’t register the voice,
and I tensed when powerful arms wrapped around both my sister and I and
effortlessly hauled us off the floor. Two fingers gripped my hip, and I
cracked my eyes open to find Theo’s dark, pissed off expression just inches
from my face.
Natasha hiccupped against my cheek, and I managed a strained inhale as
my lungs screamed for oxygen. Blinking hard, I didn’t even wonder how
hard it must've been to carry our combined weight down three flights of
stairs, but that was all the time it took to breach the emergency exit. One
blink and I was outside, with the sun on my face and sirens ringing in my
ears.
“Valerie!” My throat closed, and Theo dumped my sister and I on the
trunk of a car before Carlyle entered my field of vision. Warm, dry hands
cupped my face, and my being glued to Natasha didn’t stop him from
caressing my cheeks with his thumbs.
“She’s in shock. They’ll be fine. How the Hell did they go from one
phone call to a fucking package bomb, Carlyle?” My eyes widened, flying to
Natasha, and I pulled back as much as my weak muscles allowed.
“You! You lied about not getting any calls or anything! Why . . . why
would you lie about that, Nat!” Blown pupils met mine, and Natasha frowned
and licked her lips at my shrill, unstable accusations.
“I didn’t lie. I didn’t get a single call or message or anything since you
broke your phone. Wasn’t the package addressed to you, Val?” Was it? I
couldn’t remember right now, my brain too frazzled and in disarray. Turning
to Carlyle just as a fire truck screeched to a stop behind him, I opened my
mouth, but nothing came out. He smiled tightly, but his eyes blazed with fury,
and my lids shuttered as I rested my cheek over Natasha’s heart.
30

Valerie
“Here.” Carlyle’s secretary smiled warmly as she handed me a glass of tea,
not a mug, and the heat suffused my palms almost instantly. “Let me know if
you need anything else.”
“Thank you.” He’d stuck us in what could’ve been a board meeting room,
and I took a sip of my tea and set it down before I dropped it. For the
moment, my sister, coworkers, and I were alone, and my brain puttered along
sluggishly. The memory of the name on the package meant it was addressed
to me, but . . .
Natasha hadn’t heard anything at all from Mom or the guy that I’d talked
to that once? How did things escalate to the point of being blown up?
The doors swung open, and I glanced over to find Carlyle and who I
assumed was his brother because they looked a little the same, but for glasses
and build. He barely glanced at me, and I inhaled a shuddering breath as he
slapped a sheath of papers on the table.
“You really haven’t gotten any calls from this guy? Which means they’re
specifically targeting Valerie. Why? You’re her sister— you know her best.”
Natasha was in far better shape than I was, and she flopped back in her seat to
sigh frustratedly.
“She’s younger than me, and I guess that means she’s a spineless bitch? I
don’t fucking know why. How’d you get my phone records?” Carlyle ignored
the last question completely to sit down at the head of the table, and I felt
safer having him two chairs away. “Mom must guess she’d be easier.”
“Do you have any idea at all who your mother’s debt is to?”
“Not specifically, but some dude was following me at one point. I’d
recognize him— he had face tattoos.” Surprise burst from my lips in a
squawk, and Natasha’s gaze flickered to me to glisten in regret. “I never told
you because I knew you’d freak out.”
“Face tattoos are used a lot in gangs and cartels, so being in Dallas, it
wouldn’t be a small list. Do you know anything to narrow it down?”
“Carlyle, the major gangs in Dallas wouldn’t send someone high enough
ranking as to have a face tattoo after them. It has to be a small fry trying to
act big.” Speaking up from just behind his brother, Oran— that was his name,
right— cleared his throat roughly. “My contact told me they’ve had an upset
the past year and a half or so, someone gobbling up territory. Somehow, they
haven’t gotten under the major players’ skin yet to be dealt with.”
“Call Pedro Gonzalez and tell him to get his ass here.” Carlyle’s eyelid
twitched in agitation, his already deep voice a growl, and I felt myself getting
sucked out of my body. Who was he? How could he be so levelheaded?
How’d he get Natasha’s phone records?
How’d he suspect it was a bomb?
“Pedro Gonzalez? The guy who executed half a town on the border?”
Speaking up cautiously, Fred sat up in his chair, and Carlyle nodded
unabashed. “What the fuck is going on here? Who are you? How’d you get us
off the street without the police getting too involved?”
Carlyle leveled a stare, and I gnawed on my inner cheek as the tensions
rose. Inhaling deeply, he stood up only to sit on the table, and unease ate
away at my gut.
“Do you really want the answers to those questions? The simple one is I
am rich. I can buy anything— the police included. I can buy the best hacker
in the world, and I can get rid of anyone, anywhere, anytime, and no one will
ask questions.” The badly disguised threat shut Fred up, and Carlyle scoffed
lightly before turning back to my sister. “Do you have any way to narrow
down the list, Natasha?”
“U-um . . . I mean, I can describe him pretty well. He was following me
for weeks.” Carlyle nodded, gesturing to his brother without looking at him,
and Oran left the room for some reason I couldn’t quite put together yet. “I
tried really hard to stay out of my mom’s bullshit, so I wouldn’t even know a
general location.”
“The description will be good enough. When I find your mother, I’ll hold
onto her until you decide what you want to do. Until then, I’ll show you to
your apartment.” Standing up, Carlyle glanced between the two men
thoughtfully before cocking his head. “Would you prefer to commute to work
or take a temporary stay? Neither of you has kids, and your wife is divorcing
you, so it’s up to you.”
“You know my wife i—” Marshal cut himself off, and I glanced over
dazedly as he shook his head. Everything moved around me, like a glass wall
erected between me and everyone else. “I’ll take the stay— it’s better than
crashing on your couch, Fred.”
 “I guess I will, too, then.” Staring at the edge of the long table, I wrapped
my arms around myself as the air moved along my cold skin. Blood
drummed in my ears, and my heartbeat throbbed through my whole body
with each slow, weak pump.
“Llane will show you across the bridge. Just follow her.” When Fred and
Marshal had shuffled out, Carlyle closed the door behind them, and he
wandered over to drop into the chair next to mine. “Are you alright, Valerie?”
The world moved in slow motion as I tilted my head, and Carlyle
managed a grim, ugly smile as he rubbed his palms together. Everything was
in a wide shot, and I simply nodded dumbly when his question finally
processed.
“We need to talk when you’re feeling up to it. Someone is thoroughly
going through your apartment right now, and I’m going to find out who made
that bomb.” My throat tightened at that four-letter word, and Carlyle leaned
his forearms on his knees to sigh. “Pedro will move mountains not to get on
my bad side, so he’ll cooperate. Until we sort this mess out, you’re both
going to stay here. If you need anything, no request is too outlandish.”
“I . . . I need a shower.” Nodding curtly, Carlyle held out his hand, and I
took it without thinking. His skin was hot, hot enough to melt off his bones,
hot enough to bubble, but not hot enough to burn me. Standing up on wobbly
legs, I sniffed hard as I leaned into his chest, and he cupped my head and
hooked an arm around my back.
“Follow me, please.” Those strong arms didn’t waver as they led me
around the chairs and out of the room, and I exhaled a shuddering breath.
“Would you like anything particular, Natasha?”
“Some really good booze and a lot of ice cream, yeah. Please.” His
heartbeat against my chin was sure and strong as he nodded again, and I
glanced up at Carlyle through glazed eyes. “I take it we’re not going to
Vegas.”
“Unfortunately not, no.” I wasn’t sure which direction we went, but he
eventually swiped a card and opened the door to usher me inside. “I’ll have
your things delivered here when they arrive. For now, just relax. You’ll be
fine here. I’ll let Cindy know you won’t be meeting together until next
week.”
“Carlyle . . . ” My own whisper sounded alien, and he hummed softly in
acknowledgment. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Right this way.” Leading me past the kitchen, he popped open a door
directly to the right at the lip of the hallway. “Let me know if you need
anything, Valerie. You, too, Natasha. As I said, no request is too much.”
Leaning on the door frame, I blew out a hot breath as Carlyle retreated,
and I closed my eyes while my sister slumped opposite me. My mind
puttered along a little faster now that we were alone, and she stared holes into
my face before I managed enough strength to open my mouth.
“It’s happening all over again.” My bare whisper earned me a sad twitch.
I felt it flutter along my cheek, and Natasha took my hands to drag me into
the bathroom. She flicked the lights and turned the shower on, and I cracked
open my eyes just enough to see where I was going.
Knowing the water was cold as it drenched my hair and clothes didn’t
make it feel any less hot, and I sat down against the tiled wall to pull my
knees to my chest.
31

Carlyle
Glaring at my computer screen, I tapped my temple as I examined the
photographs that’d been taken of Valerie’s apartment. The damage wasn’t
bad enough to suggest instant death, but she would’ve been seriously injured,
maimed even, if she was near that box when it went off. Her sofa was blasted
backward— the wall had a huge dent, and the coffee table was sticking out of
the drywall. If she’d been holding that box, she probably would’ve died, but
she didn’t.
But she could’ve.
“Fuck.” My lip curled as I sat back in my chair, and I tore my eyes off the
monitor to level with Oran. “What did Jerry find out with that sealed record?”
“Natasha and Valerie were ‘kidnapped’ by Baron Ninety-Nine when they
were thirteen and held for six days. They’re a small-time gang that has been
escalating over the past seven years or so. The estimated numbers are just
under two thousand, but they’re not reliable. According to the extensive
evaluations in the report, both were sexually abused, but Valerie took it much
harder. There were suggestions that their mother was paying off a debt, but
they couldn’t get anything more substantial. When she went to jail the first
time, Valerie and Natasha were sixteen. Valerie’s grades improved incredibly
after they were emancipated, and she and Natasha both received full rides to
college from a survivor group based in Dallas.” Oran spoke with no emotion
even as mine threatened to spiral out of control, and he paused for a fraction
of a second to breathe. “In jail, their mother was pimped out by female
members of Baron Ninety-Nine.”
“What else?” I could fucking smell it— he was waiting to dump the real
bad news on me, and my brother rubbed his jaw harshly.
“Their father’s not dead. He’s in witness protection and opted to leave his
family behind. We haven’t found him yet, but Greg’s working on it. He faked
his death after witnessing a murder by Baron Ninety-Nine back in two
thousand three. The trial never went anywhere. According to what Greg
could find, the mother’s involvement with them is coincidental. Valerie and
Natasha’s father is reported to have died in a horrible car wreck with nothing
to recover.”
“Shit.” This was inarguably much, much worse than the whole Italian
ordeal, and I raked my hand through my hair as my mind whirred furiously.
“Contact the Network. Two hundred fifty thousand dollars for every Baron
Ninety-Nine member confirmed dead. Also, did you get anywhere on the
sketch?”
“Not yet. Pedro hasn’t called back yet, either.” Reluctance soured my
tongue, and my lip curled in a snarl as I drummed my fingers on the desk. “I
have someone going to find the mother.”
“They better be good.” Pushing myself up, I stalked past Oran and
clenched my hands into tight, white-knuckle fists. Theo was waiting outside
the door, and I licked my teeth as fire engulfed my heart. “Is Illya back?”
“She’s in there now.” I knew he was pissed about her foot, but if Theo so
much as looked at me wrong, I’d fucking shoot him in the head. “What do
you want me to do?”
“Team up and go to Dallas. Jerry will give you your targets by the time
you land. Find them, but don’t kill them. Do it before five p.m. tomorrow,
and every trigger hungry cunt in the country will be descending on Texas. As
long as you do it fast, I don’t care who you bring.” Talking and walking at
the same time was so exhausting, and I scanned Theo sidelong when I
stopped to punch the elevator button with my thumb. “Also, make a bomb
and blow up one of Pedro’s warehouses. I’m sure that’ll be an incentive to
call me back. Do that first thing.”
“Carlyle, it’s only been two hours si—” Whipping around, I backhanded
Oran across the face, and he dropped like a bag of bricks as his glasses flew
off his face.
“I didn’t fucking ask you how long it’s been!” He kept his head down,
wiping blood from his nose, and my snarl echoed down the hallway. My
knuckles didn’t throb, and I tugged my jacket and sucked in a sharp breath
before the elevator doors opened. Glaring at Oran for a hot moment, I turned
on my heel and entered the elevator. Theo cleared his throat roughly to get
my attention.
“What about the snake?”
“She’s on her way. I don’t care if she gets dragged, kicking and
screaming. Carl hasn’t failed me yet.” That kid was good at being bad, I’ll
give him that, and I frowned as my brother stood up before the doors slid shut
completely. Leaning back on the wall, I rubbed my face with both my hands
and inhaled a huge, calming breath. “Make sure whoever you bring to Texas
knows that if any of those assholes end up dead, I’ll kill you and your whole
team.”
“Good thing I’m going by myself.” Arching a brow, I shot Theo a
quizzical look, but he just shrugged, stuffing his fists in his jeans. “I don’t
have anyone to call, anyway.”
“Can you handle it all yourself? Take Llane— she’ll be your assistant.”
He didn’t argue with me, and I tilted my head back as the elevator vertigo
tried to drag me down. “How do I deal with Valerie?”
“If there’s one thing I learned, it’s not to stick your nose where she
doesn’t want it. She’ll come to you when she wants. Don’t go to her. Illya’s
in there right now. She’ll let you know.” Nodding, my heart twisted at how
absurd this whole thing was, and Theo blustered a sigh and rolled his
shoulders. “Where’s your father? I thought he’d be in the middle of this
relishing the chaos.”
“It’s not chaotic. Not his brand, anyway.” The doors opened, and I
stepped out as Theo reached to push the ground-floor button. “The plane’s
ready for you. Take whatever you think is necessary.”
“Yeah.” And he was gone behind a wall of thin steel. Theo would get the
job done. He hated shit like this, an innocent woman being terrorized for the
fault of others.
“What the fuck is going on?” Valerie’s father wasn’t dead. She’d been
kidnapped and assaulted, but I hadn’t gotten the faintest inkling of any of that
trauma. Her mother . . . I was going to enjoy killing her.
I needed more information, though. Hopefully, that desert snake would be
forthcoming, or I’d have to get creative.
My phone trilled insistently, and I pulled the device from my pocket on
my way across the bridge.
“What?” Oran panted slightly on the line, and I shoved my way through
the door in an effort to relieve some of the tension in my body.
“The snake just arrived. She’s not happy, and she brought her massive ass
dog.” My eyelid twitched in agitation before I whipped around on my heel
and headed back the way I came. I took the stairs this time, because I sure as
fuck wasn’t waiting for that metal box, and I hung up on Oran as my brain
threatened to melt as it whirred too fast. Opening a side door opposite the one
I usually used, I took a massive breath of the fresh, crisp air, and it only
fueled the raging emotions in me.
 Esmarissa looked as . . . unique . . . as usual when she stepped out of the
car, and Oran really wasn’t lying about that dog. He was big for a pit bull,
and I strode over to his master as she ran her fingers through her long,
electric blue locks.
“At what fucking point does ‘you work for me’ insinuate that you can
hide dealings from me?” She opened her mouth, her disgusting tongue ring
glistening under the floodlights illuminating the lot, and my eyes narrowed
into fine points. “Think about your answer. I’m not in the most forgiving
mood.”
If there was one— one— fucking thing this snake knew, it was how to
navigate a man that could easily fly off the handle. She crossed an arm under
her bust, rocking back on her heels, and her dog trotted over to me to sniff
my shoes. He came up to my thigh at the shoulder— truly, an exception to
the rule— and I patted his head to feel his prickly, short fur.
“She called me, yeah, but I hung up on her as soon as she introduced
herself. I have enough on my plate— I don’t want to deal with someone who
won’t be a repeat customer or conflict with my current ones.” Scanning her
long face, I clenched and released my jaw, but there wasn’t a hint of a lie in
her tone. “Besides, there’s no fucking way I’d ever consider what she
apparently wanted, anyway. I run a talent agency, first and foremost, and
those girls are off-limits. From what I’ve heard, Diamon wanted my best
actresses for his little scheme. He’ll just have to outwit you the old-fashioned
way, Carlyle.”
“Is your brother still breeding these monsters?” Briefly changing topic, I
hummed when Esmarissa nodded, and I made a mental note to contact the
guy. “What do you know about Baron Ninety-Nine?”
“Those are the guys we got our drugs from back in the day. Smalltime
idiots—they’re basically a subdivision of Sinaloa . . . or they were until they
fucked up somehow, I assume?” Nodding, I knelt down to look the dog in the
face, and he fucking smiled that pit bull smile at me. “I can ask Sammy, but
it’s been years. He’s got a lot of blows to the head.”
“You’re staying here tonight. I wan—” The sudden bang of metal on
brick echoed through the quad, and my head snapped up at the sound. Valerie
sauntered out of the apartment complex, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in her
hand, and Natasha and Illya came rushing— well, hobbling— after trying to
get her back inside. Her watery, brown eyes met mine, and I held my breath
as she made her way over to sidle up under my arm.
 She was ice cold, and the freezer burn of her body ate through my jacket
and shirt to sting my side.
“Oh, can I get some of that?” Valerie held out the bottle, and Esmarissa
took a huge gulp to sigh hotly. “Good. So anyway, I really don’t care what
you’re doing, but I had no part in it, Carlyle. Whatever bullshit is going on, I
don’t want any part of that, either.”
“You’re not here because of that. You’re here for something else. I hope
you didn’t have weekend plans.” This conversation ended, and I gestured to
Illya as she watched from a few feet away. “Put them somewhere. I don’t
care where. And get the dog a treat.”
32

Valerie
My eyelids fluttered open, and a gasp rasped my throat as consciousness
tugged me violently from my drunken sleep. Waiting for my eyes to adjust, I
stretched my legs and arms and arched my back, and a groan escaped me
when my joints popped. Blinking hard, my gaze found Carlyle seated in a
chair, his own focused firmly on the folder in his hands, and I sluggishly
rolled onto my side.
“I didn’t drink enough last night, obviously.” There was no pounding
against my forehead, no ache behind my eyes, and I gathered up the pillow as
Carlyle glanced at me. Slapping the folder shut, he crossed his knees and ran
his hand over his head, and the low light in the room made his eyes seem
brighter.
“I had you hooked up to an IV so you wouldn’t get a hangover. You
definitely drank enough last night— enough to give a normal person alcohol
poisoning. If you didn’t have such a high tolerance, you’d be suffering
something bad right now.” My lips stretched in a small smile, and Carlyle
propped his elbow on the armrest to hold his cheek on his half-curled first.
“While you were asleep, we found out who sent the bomb. They’re a
wannabe gang called Baron Ninety-Nine. Do you know anything about
them?”
“Not really. I know they’re violent.” My answer earned me a soft hum,
and I licked my dry lips before parting them again. “Who are you really,
Carlyle? When you showed up at my apartment, why did you ask about the
fighting?”
“The truth is, I felt guilty about not telling you.” He took a short breath in
preparation, and I held my own in anticipation, though I had a feeling nothing
he said would be a shock. “I run the largest criminal organization in the
world. Most of my companies are shells or fronts, and I didn’t want you to
believe I was perfect. No one is perfect.”
“Okay.” Stretching out my hand, I waited for him to take it as surprise
rose his brows, and a huge surge of relief sloshed in my chest. Carlyle
dragged his fingertips along my palm, and I sniffed as the confused silence
became tinged with discomfort. “At least you’re honest.”
“I completely understand if you want no part of it, Valerie.” I rolled onto
my back to stare at the ceiling, and Carlyle drew circles on my palm and up
my wrist. “It’s not something you should take lightly. I’ve had several
attempts on my life, and you don’t have to live with that fear looming over
your shoulder.”
“Have you personally killed someone?” Glancing over as he nodded
quietly, my mind went a little blank before I opened my mouth. “Are you
going to kill my mom?”
“If you want me to, yes. It’s something you should discuss with your
sister. Like I said, I’ll hold onto her until you two make a decision. I’ve got
people looking for her right now.” His expression tightened out of the corner
of my eye, and I tilted my head listlessly. “There are some things we need to
talk about. I’m not ashamed, but I did look into you and Natasha, Valerie,
and what I found was not . . . easy . . . to read.”
“Yeah.” Training my gaze on a particularly large popcorn on the ceiling, I
inhaled deeply, but it did nothing to fill the hollow gape in my chest. “My
mom . . . when Natasha and I applied to be emancipated, we got the same
judge who presided over our family matters. He asked us what really
happened. It’s not uncommon to lie— after all, the known misery is better
than the unknown. We told him, and he granted us emancipation before we
even finished the sentence.”
“Do you feel you should continue therapy?” He was so straightforward,
and I shook my head absently. “Why not?”
“It’s not something you get over, but I guess I’m as over it as I’ll ever be.
I had a really long, really intense slut phase in college. It only stopped
because one guy— a good guy, really sweet— had an AIDS scare and told
me when he found out. I’m negative. Even when I wasn’t having sex and
after moving here, I got tested. When we were ‘borrowed,’ I had to be treated
for gonorrhea and chlamydia. I got referred to this really great survivor
therapist. It was nice because she didn’t treat Natasha, just me.”
“I take it she helped you compartmentalize?” Shaking my head again, I
sat up to run my hand through my hair, and the strands peeled from my neck
and shoulders from dried sweat. Everything was so fuzzy from before I
moved here, and Carlyle held my hand firmly as I struggled to organize my
hazy thoughts.
“Um . . . not really, no. She basically told me that people are cruel, and
they do cruel things for just the sake of it. Over the years, she helped me
realize that if I let it hang over me, those people would win, and I wasn’t
gonna let that happen. I never fooled myself into thinking I’d get revenge, so
I settled on defeat. They’d never know it, but I’d beat them. Eventually.
Besides, it wasn’t what happened to me that was so horrible.” Realization
flickered in his eyes, and he rubbed my palm with his thumb. My story came
to an end, and there were no flashbacks. There was nothing. No memories
came floating up from the abyssal crevices of my mind, and nothing sparked
in my chest.
Which, arguably, was worse, I guess.
“I never settle.” Goosebumps swept up my arm at his declaration, and I
rested my cheek on my knee to watch him cock his head and frown. “Do you
have any idea at all why you were targeted specifically, Valerie?”
“Your guess is probably better than mine.” The conversation came to a
screeching halt when someone knocked gently on the door, and Carlyle stood
up with a low grunt. Pulling the sheet to my chin, I rubbed my eyes and face
as a deeper kind of exhaustion tugged at my very soul.
“Boss, Pedro is here . . . and he’s pissed.” Scooting to the foot of the bed,
I threw my legs over the side, and Carlyle glanced back at me from under
furrowed brows. My toes flexed against the carpet, and I pushed myself up
onto unsteady legs with a slight nod. Turning back to the unfamiliar woman,
he mumbled something too low for me to hear before shutting the door and
turning to me fully.
“Your clothes are in those boxes.” Pointing at a pile of plain packing
boxes, Carlyle walked over to me to hold both my hands by my sides. “Take
a shower. Eat. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“I’m coming with you.” His lips thinned, but Carlyle didn’t object, and he
didn’t agree, either, but who cared about that? “Why is he mad?”
“I blew up a bunch of his drugs about . . . four hours ago.” Glancing at his
watch, he shrugged absently, and a tickle of something caressed my lungs.
“It’ll be fine. He’s an amateur.”
I couldn’t really react to that, and I stepped away from Carlyle to poke
through the boxes in the corner of the room. Truthfully, I didn’t care how I
looked for once. I grabbed the first pair of jeans and a t-shirt, not bothering
with a bra other underwear. My sluggish movements matched my mind, and I
glanced at him over my shoulder.
“Thanks for not judging me.” About what? The STDs? The sob story?
The insane amount of drinking I did last night, most of which I don’t
remember? Carlyle smiled reassuringly, but it came off as menacing because
of the tension in him so visible on his face. When I went to take off my
pajamas, my thumbs hooked on nothing, and I noticed for the first time that I
was naked. Frowning under furrowed brows, I stuffed my feet into my pants
and hiked them up, but my hands shook.
Wandering over to me, Carlyle gently pulled up the zipper and fastened
the button, and I let him wrest the shirt from me. The plain, black t-shirt was
soft as he pulled it over my head, and he gathered up my hair as I folded my
arms through the holes. Cupping my cheeks in his dry, warm hands— no
longer scorching hot— he ducked his head to capture my lips.
His kiss was magical, soft and ginger, but rough from being chapped and
constantly downturned. Slinging my arms around Carlyle’s neck, I pressed
against him just to be closer, and he caressed my mouth with a slow-burning
passion. There was so much anger in his gentleness, and I threaded my
fingers through his hair to deepen our kiss.
There was so much anger, but there was also happiness and hope . . . and
a barrage of other emotions that rushed down my throat and filled up the
gaping hole in my chest. Carlyle’s kisses didn’t lie, didn’t fudge the truth,
didn’t avoid the question.
That’s why he was so bad at it before. He never let anyone feel what lays
below that stony exterior. Not a single soul knew except me.
“I never settle, Valerie, and this . . . I’m going to crush anyone that gets
between us.” Squeezing my face very gently to punctuate his point, Carlyle’s
eyes blazed full on with all the hate and rage he’d been hiding from me, and I
smiled. Tears sprung to my eyes, and my heart became so full it barely beat
properly. Even as his blurred features twisted in malice, I warmed, and I
rested my cheek on his chest to feel the furious ripple of his muscles.
33

Valerie
“What’s Theo’s progress?” Seeing Carlyle in such complete control was
beyond reassuring, beyond words themselves. He owned everything and
everyone, and he made sure they knew he wasn’t someone to mess with.
Trailing behind him, I couldn’t take my eyes off the determined set of his
shoulders and straight set of his spine. He spoke with authority. He walked,
and people scurried out of the way. His every pore exuded power.
There had been signs and hints, but the man I’d known until now was
considerably tempered down.
“He’s halfway done. Also, Jerry’s on his way back to help Greg, and
Hano believes he’s close.” There were no specifics, but Carlyle knew exactly
what was going on even though he sat with me all night. Well, early morning
into noon. He didn’t stop walking to listen, and his long strides forced his
brother to work to keep up with him. “We have five hours until the Network
activates, but Theo’s confident he’ll find the rest long before then.”
“Tell Hano he’s carpooling, and we’re not waiting on him.” Pushing open
a pair of glass doors, Carlyle didn’t miss a beat, and I barely noticed Oran
holding one open for me before slipping off back down the hall. “Pedro! My
man, when I call, I expect you to jump. I’m not known for my patience.”
“I was jumping.” Pedro Gonzalez was shorter than me, distinctly Mexican
features scrunching up in disgust, and he stood up from his seat to sneer
noticeably. “I didn’t call back immediately be—”
Holding up a hand to silence Pedro’s really, honestly, good English,
Carlyle gestured to the chair wordlessly. Slowly, the drug lord sat down, and
Carlyle pulled a seat out for me before dropping himself to prop his feet on
the table. This was all an act, I realized . . . well, maybe not all of it. Maybe,
this was just how Carlyle wanted Pedro to see him.
“I don’t give a shit, honestly. Here’s the deal. Tonight at five p.m., I’m
going to issue a bounty for every single Baron Ninety-Nine member in
Dallas. I had called you last night to let you know so you could pull your
people, but, you know, whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. Obviously, you
don’t appreciate the favor. I’ve instructed the Network to hunt down all of
them. You and I have a deal, which I honored, but what I do not appreciate is
being ignored.” Pedro was quiet, narrowed eyes firmly on Carlyle but staring
him down, and I glanced between the two. “I lost faith in you when you
fucked up that job in Nevada. So to regain a smidgen of trust in which to
build a future relationship, I want something of yours.”
“What would that be?” Carlyle smacked the top of the table, a malicious
grin puffing out his cheeks at the question, and Pedro tensed.
“Good of you to ask, my friend. See, someone made a bomb and sent it to
my girl, here.” Pedro’s breath hitched, eyes widening as they flew to me, and
a sense of surrealism overwhelmed me when I gazed back. This guy had
tortured and killed people, whole towns. He was responsible for death every
single day, but he was afraid of Carlyle. “According to my forensics team, it
came from one of your bomb makers. A man by the name of Julio Montoya.
He uses these incredibly distinct pink blast caps, which I’m sure you’re aware
of. This puts me in a situation, see. Either you knew about him doing side
work, or you didn’t know. Neither of those are good things, Pedro.”
“If you’re gonna kill me, just do it.” I was watching a scene in a movie—
it was just so insanely casual, and Pedro jutted out his weak chin.
“Why would I do that? You can’t repay me if you’re dead. And make no
mistake, Pedro . . . you’re going to pay quite a lot.” Carlyle was toying with
Pedro, and his words from what seemed like so long ago floated up in my
head to blare in my ears. There’s a beauty to being refined and keeping a cap
on violence. Pedro’s got a lot more to worry about than just Carlyle. Whole
governments are after him. “So, my proposal is this.”
Standing up leisurely, Carlyle walked around the medium-sized table,
pulling a knife out of his jacket pocket. The difference between them was
startling now that they were side by side. Carlyle wore a nice suit, nicely
styled hair, and no facial hair. Pedro looked exactly like one of those guys
who’d be behind Home Depot— not that there was nothing wrong with those
guys, but . . .
Of course, there was a safety to dressing the part, so if Pedro wanted to
blend in, that’d be the way to do it.
“You can do two of three things here, Pedro. Pay your debt to my girl.
She had a bomb blow up in her face, after all. Give me all your shit
stockpiled in the States. Or slit your own throat. I’ll let you pick.” Flicking
open the knife, Carlyle set it in front of Pedro on the table before sauntering
back to his seat. He shot me a wink, the only break in his character yet, and
my lip twitched up as heat slithered up my neck.
Maybe, I sustained some head trauma or something, and that’s why I feel
so . . . detached.
This had nothing to do with me, but it had everything to do with me. It
was a strange feeling, like being in the center of a hurricane.
“I’ll pay.” Just as the gruff reply came, Oran opened the doors, and I
frowned under furrowed brows. Everything that happened was so smooth, it
was almost choreographed. Seamlessly, events just ran together, and Carlyle
was at the height of it all. Handing me a portfolio folder, he adjusted his
glasses before turning around and leaving, and I cast a questioning gave at
Carlyle.
“Pick one— or three— or all of them. However, many you feel will make
up for the fact that your apartment was destroyed.” Rolling my lips between
my teeth, I popped open the laminated front, and my brows rose in surprise.
“Are these houses?” The photos on the first page were gorgeous, and I
flipped through briefly as Carlyle nodded out of the corner of my eye. “Why
would I need a house in Chile?”
“Why not?” That was definitely not a helpful answer, and I scrunched up
my nose when Carlyle shook his head. “Take some time. It’s not like Pedro
here will be busy in the coming weeks. Isn’t that right, Pedro?”
“That’s right.” Grinding the words out through his teeth, Pedro nodded
curtly, and he stood up slowly to tuck his chair in. “I’ll get things moving for
you as soon as I get back to Mexico.”
“See, I would trust your word, but . . . I don’t. So, I’ve already gone
ahead and sent a few teams to collect. Have a safe flight back.” Pedro walked
out of the small conference room, leaving me in stunned silence and
satisfaction dripping from Carlyle’s every pore. Closing the portfolio, I
propped my elbows on the table to hold my face and stare at him, and he
wore the smuggest, most amused smirk I’d ever seen. He held his head in
laced fingers, leaning back in his chair, and I waited for him to say something
because I was speechless.
“I’ve been searching for a reason to put Pedro in his place. Unlike him, I
prefer to have something to back up my claims. By the way . . . ” Standing up
to sit on the edge of the table, Carlyle crossed his knees and reached to tap
the stuffed folder. “Think carefully. Some of these properties are difficult to
get to, like the one in Chile.”
“I don’t even know what I would do with something like this, Carlyle.”
 “It doesn’t matter what you do with it. I thought about it last night . . .
why should you not have your apartment because Pedro’s an incompetent
idiot, but he has all these, and he never even uses most of them?” Rolling my
jaw against my palms at that, I didn’t refute the point even though it was
moot. “Trust me. He’ll recoup quickly. Regardless, why don’t we get lunch?
I’m sure you’re hungry.”
“What about Natasha? What do I tell her?” A troubled crease marred
between his brows, and Carlyle shrugged carelessly.
“Tell her whatever you want, Valerie. She’s your sister. I’m not going to
get between you two. I doubt she’ll take it as well as you, but the point of all
this with Pedro, it doesn’t even scratch the surface. I brought him here as
some convoluted way to ease you into what comes next.” Puffing out my lips,
I frowned as sourness coated my tongue, and Carlyle brushed my bottom lip
with his thumb. His expression turned tender, and he smiled a little before
continuing. “I won’t stop either of you from doing what you want with your
lives. On paper, you’re an indie game development company that contracted
my marketing firm. Right now, right here, it’s a different story.”
I only nodded before standing up, and Carlyle didn’t try to continue the
conversation as he scooted off the table. I guess . . . there’s no point in
keeping secrets from Natasha now. Not after twenty-five years together.
34

Valerie
“And you . . . you’re perfectly okay with that?” Natasha scrunched up her
nose when I nodded, ducking her head to dig into her ice cream. Hope
blossomed in my chest, and she fished for the perfect bite, the one with the
brownie piece in it. “I mean . . . whatever. It’s not like I’m the one dating
him. You don’t need my approval or anything. I just think you shouldn’t go
all gung-ho considering you almost got blown up yesterday. You were
already a romantic bitch, but that might’ve agitated yo—”
“Shut up.” Shoving her weakly with my shoulder, I smiled broadly, but
my burst of relief didn’t last as I cleared my throat. “Um . . . the other thing is
he wants me to look through these.”
Tapping the folder on the coffee table with my toe, I dug into my own ice
cream as my sister reached for it. This conversation hadn’t gone too bad, but
I didn’t expect it to in the first place. Natasha and I were great sisters, very
understanding and level he—
“What the fuck!” Natasha’s shriek rang in my ears, and I glanced over as
she dropped her half-eaten carton in her lap to hold the folder open with both
hands. “What the fuck is this, Val? He’s giving you a house? Is this a joke?”
“It’s the guy who runs the gang of the guy who sent that bomb to me.”
Wide eyes met mine, and my sister sat back with a huff as I snatched the
folder from her. “Carlyle scared him. Bad. Anyway, that was what he said,
that since my apartment got destroyed, I could have one of these— or three—
or all of them. I definitely don’t want the one in Chile, though. I skimmed
through it briefly.”
“What the actual shit? That’s . . . wait a minute. How come you’re so
damn calm? Not that I thought you’d throw yourself onto a bed and weep like
a Disney princess, but . . . ” I hummed softly around my spoon, savoring the
crunch of chocolate chips and the grainy cookie dough as I contemplated her
question. Reaching for my glass of wine, my mind puttered along leisurely,
but my sister didn’t rush me. The silence deepened, and I blinked hard under
furrowed brows.
“I guess, no matter what, I know it’ll never be turned on me.” Pressing
the cold glass against my cheek as Natasha flipped the page out of the corner
of my eye, I sniffed a harsh breath. “Everything he’s capable of, the lying and
the violence, he won’t do that to me. I’m safe. We’re safe. He knows about
what happened back then. He asked me if I thought I should continue
therapy.”
“You can lie to that therapist, but you can’t lie to me, Val. You blocked it
all out. What if that explosion and being targeted brings it back?” I only
shake my head because I didn’t have an answer to that. If it happened and I
went a little off the rails, then it happened. There was no way to avoid it, and
I wasn’t going to just break up with Carlyle because maybe . . . “Well, I
mean, you’re a grown-ass woman. I’m not gonna stop you from doing what
you wanna do. I’m just gonna tell you when I think you’re wrong.”
“You’re a great sister, Natasha.” Nodding firmly, like she already knew
that, Natasha huffed, and I smiled broadly as I leaned my head on her
shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, I have a feeling
we’ll be seeing it on the news.”
“We have a bigger issue to think about, honestly.” Flipping the page to a
beautiful balcony and kitchen, Natasha strafed the pictures with her thumb.
“Since you two are fucking, and I’m a collateral casualty, do you think
Carlyle will give me an allowance? I wanna be rich and spoiled.”
A laugh escaped me, and I set my wine glass down to take another bite of
my ice cream. The doorbell trilled shrilly, and I unfolded my legs from under
me to head down the short hallway.
“Oh, hey, guys.” Fred and Marshal stood on the other side of the door,
with Carlyle behind them, and I nodded as I stepped aside. “Come in.”
He shot me a surprised, quizzical arch of his brow, but Carlyle didn’t
question me as the three shuffled past. Shutting the door behind them, my
fingers itched, and I grabbed his ass and squeezed. He tensed, glancing over
his shoulder, and my smile widened before I moved to sit on the sofa.
“So, I was going through all the stuff last night, and thank God we
weren’t too far in. All my paper shit is ruined from the sprinklers, but I’m
confident I can get all the info on my tablet back.” Speaking up first, Marshal
perched on the armrest of the sofa, and Carlyle sat on the ledge between the
kitchen and the living room. “Did you guys hear from the manager of your
apartment?”
“Yeah, the fire marshal said there’s no structural damage, but we’re not
allowed back. Which . . . I guess . . . at least he’s not suing us.”
 “That’s good. I really don’t want to delay because of this. Like Marshal
said, we’re not really taking a hit from this, and I already called my mom’s
hospice worker and let her know I’m on an emergency trip.” Fred leveled his
gaze on me, and my brows furrowed as his lips thinned. “I’m sorry about all
your drawings.”
“It’s okay. I can always do them over. It’s not like they were set anyway.
We’re still going through all our stuff, but I’m sure my drawings and supplies
are in there somewhere.” Turning expectantly to Carlyle, I nodded when he
did, and he cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. Clasping his hands
in his lap, he rocked back, and his narrowed eyes swept the room. He was
born to be in power. How sexy . . .
“As I’ve said, you’re going to be working across the bridge. There are
some rules you have to follow. Work stays at work. Like all of my
employees, you’re not allowed to bring materials over the bridge. If you do
and I find out, you’ll be fired on the spot. Once you decide on a concrete plan
for your living situations, you can decide among yourselves whether or not
you want to move to another building. You two, specifically, I want to make
clear that you’re not prisoners here.” Pointing between Fred and Marshal,
Carlyle held both their gazes. “You can leave any time you want, no
questions asked. The only thing I demand of you is that anything you witness
here, you keep quiet about.”
“I didn’t see or hear shit,” Fred grumbled in agreement with Marshal, and
my lips twitched up at the pleased smile stretching Carlyle’s face.
“Good. As with any investment, I’m providing you with a marketer who
works exclusively with mobile apps. You’ll be meeting with her next week,
so get yourselves sorted by then with a loose campaign. It’s all fairly
ambiguous at this point. If you need anything for any reason, you can contact
my assistant. Her numbers are posted on the refrigerators in your apartments.
She’ll make it happen.” Carlyle’s expression fell flat, and the atmosphere
became dense as he tapped his heels against the wall just above an outlet.
“Now, I’m not in the habit of giving gifts, but considering the circumstances,
I believe it’s appropriate. Pedro is responsible for the bomb, and he and I do
business together. To some degree, I’m responsible for being negligent.
Natasha, this is for you, as well. If you have a reasonable request, I’ll grant
it.”
“What? This wasn’t enough?” Waving around the folder, the fwop-fwop
of laminate flooded my ears, and I stuck my spoon in my ice cream as
Carlyle shrugged.
“That’s not yours. Whichever or however many she chooses, they’re
Valerie’s.” A shit-eating smirk crested my cheeks, and my sister shot me a
mock glare and nudge of her shoulder.
“You said yesterday that you could buy anyone, right?” Speaking up,
Marshal’s question sent a jolt through me, and he cupped his chin
thoughtfully. “My wife and I haven’t even been to mediation yet. She just
served me a few weeks ago. She thinks I don’t know she’s been cheating on
me, and she’s trying to take everything I have. She filed a restraining order
against me and put my apartment address as hers, so I can’t even go get my
stuff. I’ve been wearing Fred’s clothes.”
“You want a lawyer.” His wasn’t a question, but Marshal nodded mutely,
shame dragging down his features. “Your wife sounds like a cunt.”
“She wasn’t when we got married. She’s having a mid-life crisis, and her
boyfriend is twenty-two. She is a divorce lawyer, and I’m having trouble
finding someone to represent me. I don’t want to do anything drastic because
I know that she’ll see she’s making a mistake and watching her be miserable
when this guy bails because she’s pregnant is revenge enough.” I nearly
choked on my melting ice cream, and Marshal sniffed hard as he hung his
head a little, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “She doesn’t think I know
about that, either, but her sister talks a lot.”
“I’ll handle it. At least you’re not one of those guys who tries to have her
murdered.” Nodding gratefully, Marshal deflated a little, his shoulders
curling, and Natasha held up her hand as if we were in grade school again.
Carlyle smirked slightly, pointing at her, and embarrassment bubbled in my
chest. “Yes, Natasha.”
“Within the realm of possibility, right? Can I have these ones Valerie
doesn’t want? If they’re all up for grabs, there’s no reason not to, right?”
“Fine. I’ll let Pedro know. I’ll do the initial cleanup, but after that, they’re
your responsibility. What are you going to do with them?” My sister's fist
pumped the air with a hiss, and she sat up a little straighter.
“I’m gonna open an Airbnb.” She sounded so proud of her idea, and I
sniggered before she swatted at me, a pout forming on her face. For a brief
second, everything felt normal— the old normal, when it was just us and no
one else. “Hey, it’s a good idea! Do you know how much that would cost a
night? And as long as we put in a day between bookings to clean up, we can
just hire a crew locally. We’d never have to go there unless we wanted to
party.”
“What about you, Fred?” Marshal’s question drew all attention to Fred
leaning against the wall by the television, and he shrugged carelessly.
“I don’t really want anything. I’m pretty alright for now. This offer has a
timer on it, I assume. Maybe I’ll think of something before it runs out, but it’s
not like you can stop my mom being eaten by dementia.” I thought maybe
Fred just didn’t want anything to backfire on him if he took a freebie, and I
frowned under furrowed brows. “Besides, it’s not like I’m not working
anymore. I could go back home if I wanted. It’s just more convenient to stay
here for the time being until we decide whether or not to do something else.”
“Alright.” Accepting Fred’s reasoning, Carlyle slid off the ledge to nod
firmly. “I’ll have someone show you to your office so you can get to work. I
have some things to get to myself. If you need anything, again, refrigerators.”
35

Valerie
Stepping into Carlyle’s office, I glanced around at the plain decor and not-
disgustingly-imposing desk he sat behind. For a moment, my gaze focused on
the stress lines on his face and the permanent downturn of his mouth, but the
fire in his eyes still blazed brightly.
“Wanna talk about it?” My simple question earned me a hard sigh, and
Carlyle rubbed his face with both his palms to run his fingers through his
hair. Wandering deeper into his office, I sat down on the sofa pushed up
against a wall, and he didn’t hesitate to take a seat next to me. I pulled up my
legs, wrapping them around him, and he sprawled across me as I stuffed a
pillow under my back and propped my head on the rest.
Threading my fingers through Carlyle’s hair soothingly, I soaked up his
warmth through my shirt, and his jaw worked against my breasts in the
stretching silence. He was always so thoughtful, and I was patient while he
decided what, exactly, he wanted to complain about.
Everyone needed an outlet, especially people so burdened.
“In three hours, Dallas is going to get hit with mass murder. I’m
considering calling it off. It’s a lot of exposure if someone fucks up, and any
rookie with a gun and a friend with a big mouth could easily do that.”
Carlyle’s chest flexed against my abdomen, and he inhaled deeply to sink
against me. “I made the decision out of anger, and it could easily be a bad
one.”
“You can’t, I don’t know, tailor it to professionals or something?”
Carlyle’s hair was so soft, his weight so comfortable, and I closed my eyes
and tightened my knees against his sides. “You don’t have people for this or
whatever?”
“It’s better to be twice removed from this kind of thing, and, to be honest,
I could pin it on Pedro easily since I don’t operate in the south. That’s cartel
territory, and we have a deal. Pedro’s not very happy right now, though, and I
don’t want him to think he’s got balls and try something. I just seized
everything he has in this country, and it’s a lot. It’ll take weeks to move it
all.” My mind churned slowly, and the silence rang in my ears as I enjoyed
our closeness before Carlyle continued. “I could send the offers to specific
people, I suppose. There’s just a lot going on right now, so I haven’t really
explored all my options.”
“I think that’d be the best option. It’s not something that’ll happen in a
day, Carlyle.” My advice fell flat, but I wasn’t really sure what he was
expecting to hear as he grunted lowly in acknowledgment. “What else do you
have going on? You can tell me.”
“That snake— just knowing she’s here gives me a headache. She can’t
leave, either, because I need her for something else, but I’m getting really
fucking annoyed at how sh—” The office door popped open, but Carlyle
didn’t so much as twitch as I cracked open my eyes. A huge pitbull sauntered
in, all blue, and waddled over to sniff around me like he owned the place.
“Fuck . . . this bitch . . . ”
Carlyle’s groan muffled between my breasts, and the woman who strolled
in clearly hadn’t heard him or didn’t care. Electric blue hair tied in a braid
down her back, and she clicked her tongue ring animatedly as she shut the
door with a swift kick.
“I heard from the maids that—” Her brows rose when she finally looked
at us, and goosebumps swept up my arms at the discomfort masking her face.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“What do you want, Esmarissa?” Licking her lips, she pulled a snake bite
between her teeth, and I turned my gaze to the ceiling. Carlyle’s mumble
raked up my sternum before he pushed himself up to sit, and he pet the dog’s
head absently. “Did you clean up after this monster like I told you?”
“Of course, I did, but that’s not why I’m here. I heard from the maids you
decided not to go after the Italians. Why are you keeping me here if you’re
wiggling your thumb in your ass, huh?” His thighs and abs tensed against my
calf, and his head whipped up as the air became frosty.
“I beg your pardon?” When I breathed, I could’ve sworn I saw it puff in
the air, and Carlyle cocked his head menacingly— if such a thing could be
menacing, that is. Watching his reactions to disrespect was fascinating, and I
held my breath as the silence ticked on by. “Just so we’re clear, here, Spot . . .
”
Spitting the nickname venomously, Carlyle stood up, and I pulled back
my leg as he strode to stand check to chest with her. Which is it? Esmarissa,
snake, or Spot?
“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to whoever I want, whenever I want, for
whatever fucking reason I want.” He grabbed her chin, and her breath hitched
as the tension in the room sizzled where my eyelids and eyeballs met. “You
don’t question me. What I decide is not your business. Got me?”
“Got it.” Releasing her with a little jerk back, Carlyle sat back down
heavily to fling his arm over the sofa and cross his knees. Esmarissa huffed,
rubbing her jaw and chin, and he just stared her down until she nodded
firmly. “Got it.”
“Good. I suspended the campaign because that grease monkey Diamon
knew something he shouldn’t have. When all the chaos is settled, I have to
deal with Oran’s whores, and you need to be there.” Cautious curiosity
drenched her long features, but he paused to frown deeply under furrowed
brows. “You care about your girls, so you need to know what’s going to
happen if you ever fuck up again. Now, get out.”
She called her dog, who plodded happily after her, and Carlyle flopped
his head back to sigh heavily.
“I can’t get a single moment.” Sitting up, I shuffled to straddle his lap,
and Carlyle grumbled low in his chest as his eyes met mine. “It won’t always
be so busy and hectic, I promise.”
“I know.” Kissing him briefly, my lips tingled, and he grappled my ass
with both his hands to squeeze tightly. “I like watching you be in such
complete control. It’s really sexy.”
“It’s only sexy until I tell you to do something, and you tell me I’m wrong
. . . and then you prove it.” Smirking broadly, I gripped the stiff cushion
behind him to grind in his lap, and Carlyle’s brows wiggled suggestively.
Ducking my head as he stuck his hands down the back of my jeans, I gasped
when he spread my ass cheeks, and his tongue invaded my mouth to tangle
with mine.
And then . . . his phone rang.
“Shit, that’s Theo.” Fishing the device out of his pocket, Carlyle shot me
an apologetic smile, and I sat back as he answered the call. “Did you get
them?”
“We’re at the airport. Hano is about ten minutes away.” I could hear
Theo clearly through the phone, and Carlyle nodded before his subordinate
continued. “It wasn’t that hard. They’re real idiots.”
“Good. Let me know when you land.” Hanging up, Carlyle tapped around
on his phone before holding it to his ear again, and he reached to pinch my
chin affectionately. “Drop the Network from the agenda. Theo’s on his way
back now with the ones I want. Send out invitations instead.”
Without waiting, Carlyle hung up again and tossed his phone on the sofa,
and my breath hitched as he dragged the backs of his fingers down my neck.
“Wait for it . . . ” Murmuring so softly, he held a finger to my lips, and
my brows twitched up before the door burst open. Twisting as surprise parted
my lips, my brows furrowed, and the man who interrupted us stopped short
before clearing his throat. “Did you find him, Jerry?”
“Yeah. What do you want to do, boss?”
“Keep an eye on him. I’m still unsure what I want to do.” The guy
nodded, and just as abruptly as he appeared, he left, and I turned back to
Carlyle with raised brows. “There’s one more. Hang on.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? What happened to being the boss being
insanely boring?” He just smirked at me, and I crossed my arms over my
check with a huff. Puffing out my lips, I practically leered at him, but he
didn’t seem at all phased before a soft knock on the door interrupted us a
third time. “This is stupid.”
“It’s not so bad. Come in.” Calling over my shoulder, Carlyle propped his
arm behind his head, and his smirk morphed into a shit-eating grin. “It’ll be
fine.”
“Whatever.” Rolling my eyes, I turned to find an older man in a really
flashy, bright blue tie with yellow smiley faces on it watching us. Patting my
ass, Carlyle straightened, and I climbed off him before he stood up and
cleared his throat.
“Dad, this is Valerie.” Gesturing to me as my face paled in mortification,
Carlyle’s amusement just dribbled from his mouth, and a squeak of horror
clogged my throat. “Valerie, this is my father, George.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, Carlyle!” Popping off the couch onto stiff legs, I pulled
my hair over my shoulder, and George smiled warmly at me as I held out my
hand. “Hi . . . hello. I’m Valerie.”
He took my hand firmly and covered it with the other one, and I rolled
my lips between my teeth as heat threatened to melt my cheeks. George was
good looking for a man who must’ve been in his sixties. I could definitely see
Carlyle in him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Valerie. I didn’t mean to intrude, but Carlyle and I
have some things to discuss about . . . well, to be blunt, it’s about your
situation.” George’s grip on my hand didn’t waver even as he shot a stern
look at his son, and I bopped my head in a nod. He patted my hand one more
time before releasing me, and awkwardness sizzled just under my skin as I
pulled my hand behind my back. “Why are you still here, if you don’t mind
my asking?”
“Uh . . . uh . . . ” Oh shit, oh fuck, oh crap. “I mean . . . I don’t understand
the question.” Stupid! The response was so stupid that I could’ve cried, and
George arched a brow quizzically as I struggled to get ahold of myself. “Why
am I still here in this building? Or why am I not running really far away,
trying to wire brush Carlyle from my brain?”
“You know he’s not just a simple business owner, so the second
question.” Glancing at Carlyle, I knew my nerves showed all over my face,
but he didn’t seem at all perturbed as he leaned against the front face of his
desk. My gaze locked on George, and I licked my lips heavily before they
just spewed out words.
“I guess he just does it for me.” My eyes widened as acute embarrassment
stabbed my chest over and over again. “Okay, I’m going to go. This is awful.
I hate you, Carlyle.”
“I’ll see you later, Valerie.” Scrunching up my nose, I nearly threw up
from the anxiety roiling in my gut, and I slammed the office door hard behind
me. Sliding down the wall, I held my head in my hands and groaned as my
brain spun on its stem.
36

Carlyle
“Natasha, a moment, please.” Quickening my stride to catch up with her, I
smiled politely when she turned, and Natasha nodded as confusion knit her
slender brows. “It’s not about Valerie, actually. Come outside with me.”
“Uh . . . okay?” Opening the door for her, I gestured Natasha to follow
me towards the elevator, but we took a sharp right to the stairs instead. “If it’s
not about Valerie, what’s it about?”
“What do you know about your father’s death?” She paused on the stairs
to turn to me, lips thinning and pupils tightening, and I couldn’t help but
frown. I had a feeling she suspected, at the least, that someone along the line
had lied to her. She was very perceptive. Slowly turning around to continue
down the stairs, she pushed open the side door and took a huge breath before
turning to me fully.
“I don’t know what you’re planning, but you can’t bring him here,
Carlyle. Whatever you think you know about it, you’re wrong.” Arching a
brow curiously, I pulled my cigarettes out of my jacket, and she stuffed her
hands in her jeans to rock back and exhale a blustering sigh. “I found him
when Mom went to jail the first time. It’s surprising what a girl can do with
an internet connection and Facebook. Anyway, yeah, he was in Witness
Protection, but only for a year until the trial was over, and it was determined
he wasn’t in danger.”
“So, he abandoned you.” Mine wasn’t a question, but Natasha nodded, a
sour disgust dragging down the corners of her mouth. Sparking my cigarette,
surprise tingled my fingertips when she held out a hand, but I didn’t ask
about it. “Why did you keep telling Valerie he’s dead?”
“Because he never came back. Like I said, I only looked this up in my
teens, years later. I only did that in the first place because I went on a college
tour and saw him alive. He didn’t come back when he had the chance because
he met someone else and fell in love while he was in protection. Essentially,
he’s lying in two lives instead of just one. His wife is super nice, judging by
her Facebook profile. Number one, Valerie doesn’t need to go through more
shit, and number two, it’d ruin more lives than I care to be responsible for. To
find out all that would ruin his marriage, and, frankly, he’s not all that.” Her
little diatribe came to an end, and I nodded firmly as I pulled my cell phone
out to text Jerry to leave it be. “So, did you think she’d stop being mad at you
if you did a little family reunion?”
“What? Oh, no, it had nothing to do with that. That’s not the reunion I’m
interested in, but I wanted the option once I figured out exactly how much
you two knew.” Checking the time, I took a deep drag of my smoke, and
Natasha frowned around the butt of hers. “Your mother will be landing in
about twenty-five minutes. Finding her was pretty difficult. Also, I have the
people who took you when you were thirteen.”
“Oh.” I expected surprise, abhorrence, something other than just ‘oh,’ and
Natasha held her breath for a long moment before exhaling out of her nose.
“What are you going to do with them?”
“That’s up to you. It won’t change what happened to you, of course.”
Scanning her, I cocked my head and leaned against the brick to cross my
arms. “What about you, Natasha? How are you doing?”
“I’m pretty okay. It’s only been a day and a half, so . . . and it’s not like
any of this has anything to do with me, either. This is your crusade, Carlyle.”
Flicking her barely smoked cigarette onto the ground, Natasha snuffed it with
her booted heel before shrugging. “When my mom gets here, let me know so
I can punch her in the face.”
“Will do.” Breezing past me, Natasha left me alone to contemplate all that
she’d revealed, and I cupped my chin to tap my cheek thoughtfully. Taking a
drag of my cigarette, I held the toxic smoke in my lungs before sighing
thickly. “I guess that ends that.”
She was right, of course. This was my crusade on Valerie’s behalf. I took
it upon myself to go after these people because I was angry . . . beyond angry.
Natasha and Valerie had over a decade and intense help to overcome what
happened to them.
I wasn’t going to stop it, and I wasn’t going to take any less pleasure in it,
but . . .
“Are you gonna keep that all to yourself or share?” Blinking hard, I
glanced over as Illya stepped out onto the asphalt, and I held out my smoke
for her. “What’s up?”
“Nothing immediately important. How’s your foot?” She bopped her
head side to side with a hum, and the sizzle of tobacco filled my ears. “It’s
been a week. Has the swelling died down?”
 “It doesn’t hurt. Theo may be mad at you, but I’ve been through worse.
Plus, it was kinda worth it seeing the absolute horror on Mateo’s face.”
Mateo— that was a name I hadn’t heard in a while, and my brows furrowed
when Illya chuckled lightly. “He’s such a squeamish bitch. It’s a shock
you’re related.”
“Did you come out here for a reason, Illya?” Handing me back my
smoke, she ran her hand through her long, brown hair to exhale her lungful as
my own filled. Illya was quiet as smoke slowly curled up the flare of her
nostrils, and her bright, green eyes watched me steadily.
“I heard the maids talking about how you didn’t sleep last night. I just
wanted to make sure you’re not delirious or anything.” Affection eased the
tension in my cheeks, and I nodded firmly as Illya frowned. “You’re not
gonna sleep, are you?”
“No, probably not. They should be arriving in the next hour, and then I
have to deal with Valerie’s mother. Sooner rather than later, I want to get to
Oran and his issue before Esmarissa drives me insane.” For just a second, I
whined like a teenager about school, and Illya smiled a little even as her
expression became grave. “I don’t want whichever slut it is to get spooked, so
I told him to bring it up gradually. Chances are, they won’t get here until next
week. That’s when I’ll sleep.”
“He’s having a rough time with it?”
“They’re his pets. It’s like if someone just decided to tell you he was
going to make you kill your own dog for shitting on his lawn. One of the
four, he’s had for years. As much as it sucks for Oran, I can’t take chances,
so it doesn’t matter if he figured out which one was the spy. These girls are
together all the time— literally, they eat, sleep, and breathe the same air
constantly. Even if one was the culprit, the others would’ve known and not
told Oran, which means he obviously failed to break them as hard as he
thought.” I didn’t want to bring this issue up with Valerie, and Illya ducked
her head in a nod as I rested my head against the wall to stare at the sky. “He
thinks so highly of himself that he let this happen. Chances are, the bitch who
the Italians sent is pretty smart about it. Either way, it'll be hard for him,
regardless.”
“Hopefully, he’ll have a little humility after this.”
“I’m hoping to force him out, actually.” The confession earned me a hum,
and Illya scrunched up her face as I watched a huge, fluffy cloud drift above
the quad. “My father might’ve tolerated him, but I won’t. I don’t need him or
want him around. If this doesn’t break him, it’ll get him close enough.”
“You can’t just kick him out?” Illya’s bland question drew my gaze, and
she shrugged as she sat down against the wall to take off her sandal and rub
her foot. “It’d be easier than giving him a reason to hate you.”
“He did this to himself by allowing this to happen. If he’d hate anyone,
it’d be himself. I’m used to fixing my little brothers’ mistakes, but it’s usually
Mateo’s.” Speaking of . . . “I’m waiting on this to calm down before I send
Mateo to New York City. I had considered sending Oran to oversee him, but
I don’t want Oran overtaking the operation.”
“So, what? You’re just going to do the same thing you tried to do in
California?”
“Yes. This time, though, if Mateo doesn’t pull through and makes another
stupid mistake, he won’t get a third chance. I’m going to make it very clear
exactly what I expect, and I’ll be sending Vanessa with him to make sure he
gets it done. She’s a slave master even though she doesn’t seem it. Llane will
be her replacement.” Illya tapped my leg, and I held down my cigarette for
her to rub my hands up my face. “I’m not used to doing so much damn
work.”
“Good thing you’re really good at it, otherwise someone might think
you’re actually stressing out.” Chuffing a humorless laugh, I only shook my
head, and Illya banged her head gently against my thigh. “I’m gonna stay out
here and wait for Theo. Go get a blowjob or something.”
37

Valerie
Licking my lips heavily, I knocked on the big, imposing, metal door before it
immediately swung open, and Carlyle gazed down at me with guarded eyes.
Wordlessly, he gestured me in, and I pursed my lips as anxiety gnawed at my
gut. Tension zinged up and down my legs and gripped my spine, and I rubbed
my palms together to get rid of the tingles in my hands.
“What’s going on?” My straightforward question earned me ominous
silence, and I stepped through the threshold to see Natasha already here,
leaning against the wall with her arms tightly crossed. “This is a bad place to
stage an intervention.”
“It’s the perfect place for an interrogation, though.” A surprised squeak
escaped me when George spoke up from behind me, and I whipped around as
Carlyle left the door open. The old man smiled almost sympathetically, but
his eyes looked a little dead as they shifted between my sister and I. My mind
raced, panic clutching my heart in a vice, and I gulped harshly while Carlyle
sat on the table in the corner of the room.
“Okay . . . um . . . if this is about earlier, I can explain. We weren’t gonna
do anything, I promise. I was just trying to make Carlyle feel better. Because,
you know, it sucks about the b-bomb and my apartment, but, like, I’m totally
over it at this point even though he’s obviously not, an—” Drying on my
tongue at the amusement playing in the old man’s otherwise stoic features, I
clamped my mouth shut and held my breath. Flames climbed up my neck,
and my knees wobbled dangerously as embarrassment clung to my ribs like
sticky tar.
“Not your interrogation, darling.” I wanted to die. Oh, this was horrible.
Carlyle was horrible. What the Hell was with all the quiet? Did everyone in
this place just read minds?
Was I being intentionally left out of the loop?
Because I was okay with that! Seriously! I didn’t want anything to do
with the loop!
“Val . . . ” Whirling around, I tensed when Natasha frowned at me, and
my cheeks threatened to melt right off my face. Her eyes flickered to a corner
of the room, her head tilting, and I almost didn’t look because I was a scaredy
bitch.
But I did look, and goosebumps blanketed my entire body at the frail
body huddled in the corner. I hadn’t noticed the small cries coming from
under that stringy, brown hair, and impressively thin legs riddled with track
marks pulled up. There were even marks on her feet, straining as they curled
against the cold concrete, and my pupils blew as the air knocked from my
lungs.
“I-I don’t understand.” The declaration rolled thickly off my tongue, but I
couldn’t tear my eyes off the pathetic creature cowering in the corner. “Why .
. . why is she here?”
“I had her brought here. Why and what you do now is up to you.” My
head snapped up and to the side, and Carlyle crossed his legs under him to
lean against the wall. His expression was unreadable, his voice flat, and even
his eyes didn’t portray any sort of emotion too strong to identify. “Natasha
decked her in the face. If you need ideas, I have a few.”
“Um . . . oh, I-I . . . ” Sputtering, my words failed me completely when I
turned back to my mother, and she rocked back and forth. Her clothes stuck
to her and made her look skinnier. Even bunched up, it was obvious she was
underweight. The drugs she used gave her a greenish hue, and she shook
viciously. Blinking in disbelief, I wrapped my arms around myself as I
shuddered a rasping breath, and my lips stuck together as the moisture on
then dried.
“No one will judge you for anything you feel, Valerie.” I was struck with
the notion that these people assumed I would feel something in the first place,
which was preposterous. I mean, my mom abandoned us and sold us and lied
and cheated and stole and . . .
Looking at her now, the only emotion swirling in my chest was . . .
disgust.
“I’m not touching that.” Shivering from the powerful wedge between my
lungs, I shook my head and scrunched up my nose. “I’m not touching that.”
“You don’t have to.” Carlyle slid off the table smoothly, and my eyelids
fluttered closed when he gripped my shoulders in his strong hands and
squeezed reassuringly. “I have tools for that.”
My stomach roiled when I made the mistake of looking at my mom, and I
covered my mouth with the back of my hand. She fucking stunk to high
Heaven of ammonia and general body odor, and her shaking just agitated it
all. Her thin skin crackled around her track marks when he gripped her legs,
and she looked around through glassy, doped up eyes.
Eyes that swept right past me . . . as if I wasn’t even there.
Cold metal pressed against my palm, and I sucked in a sharp breath when
Carlyle’s warmth left my back. My eyelid twitched as my mom’s gaze
focused on Natasha. She was so bad that the punch to the face my sister had
supposedly dropped on her didn’t change anything about her features. My
mom didn’t swell up. The only difference was her sickly green color turned
grey.
“Nat, baby . . . ” Hoarse, barely a collection of sounds, my mom’s call
squeezed my heart and made my brain pound against the backs of my eyes.
Tightening my grip on the . . . what even was it? Glancing down, I frowned at
the gun in my hand, the silvery piece glimmering in the moderate light
streaming from above. When I looked back after what couldn’t have been
more than a second, my mom was still staring dazedly at Natasha.
Blood drummed in my ears, and a cold sweat broke out on my body when
my mom opened and closed her mouth a few times. Watching her actively try
to make noise was surreal. I’d never been so close to someone so degraded
my drugs, and the fact that this was my own mother only made me more
numb.
“Did you bring Val like I told you?” My body went cold, and I twisted as
Natasha clenched her hands into tight fists, rage painting her face and bulging
the veins in her neck. “I have to pay rent. You don’t want to be homeless,
right? You’re the good one.”
“You didn’t . . . ” Croaking as my throat closed completely, I shook my
head weakly, and my sister glared at the floor. “No, no, no, Nat-t . . . you
didn’t . . . ”
“I’m older, so it was my responsibility.” Tears sprung to my eyes at the
lack of bitterness of resentment in her voice, but all I could do was continue
shaking my head. “Six minutes really is a big difference.”
“You . . . how could you, Natasha?” She shrugged stiffly at my whisper,
and I tightened my grip on the gun Carlyle had given me. Was I really going
to shoot my mom? The question wasn’t one I’d ever contemplated before, but
now . . .
“To be honest, I didn’t hate it. If I did, they’d just go after you. So, I
guess, after a while, I managed to just . . . let it go. Besides, I wouldn’t be so
hilarious without a little trauma.” Hiccupping a shallow breath as my tears
streamed down my hot face, I struggled not to sob as Natasha walked over to
me. Slowly, she turned me around, wrapping her arms around me, her palms
gliding down to smooth the bumps on my arm. “It won’t change anything,
Valerie, but it won’t make it worse, either. There’s not much worse it could
get, and we have each other.”
“Y-you made me go to a different college because . . . ” Trailing off as
my mind went blank, I leaned my head back against Natasha’s shoulder and
closed my eyes. Her smell flooded my brain, and she hummed softly in my
ear as she lifted the gun in my hand. Mine stayed hugging the grip, and her
finger hooked on the trigger.
“Life without you isn’t a life at all, Valerie. Together in the womb . . . ”
Her palm flexed, and our free hands tangled together as I turned into
Natasha’s neck. “Together in the tomb.”
Bang!
The gunshot was quieter than I expected, and the recoil of the pistol sent a
shock up my arm as I squeezed my eyes shut tight. My heart stuttered, and
my nails dug into Natasha’s hand and hers mine. The stench intensified, and
saliva pooled in my mouth as bile sloshed up my throat.
Doubling over at the mighty heaving of my stomach, I dropped the gun
with an extraordinarily loud clatter, and my dry heaving echoed through the
room.
Or should I say mausoleum?
Big hands that weren’t Natasha’s gathered up my hair, but nothing
crawled up to slip off my tongue. Suddenly, I was really glad the only thing
I’d eaten was ice cream and booze, and a long, slender arm wrapped under
me to keep me off the ground.
“You look surprised.” Above my ducked head, Natasha spoke blandly,
and I gasped hoarsely and arched sharply. Tears dripped off my nose, and
that gross taste spread across my tongue as cold droplets of sweat streamed
between my breasts.
“I honestly didn’t expect you to do that. You know, Natasha, you’re one
badass bitch.” Colorful spots assaulted my vision when I shook my head, and
I straightened, shivering and weak, to gasp for air. My sister took my cheeks
in her cool hands to force me to look at her, and she smiled so beautifully
even as she pressed her forehead against mine.
“We got a lot of ice cream to eat and a lot of alcohol to drink, Valerie.”
And we walked out, together, always together, leaving even Carlyle behind.
38

Carlyle
Staring between the five people currently chained to the wall, I tapped my
temple absently as I contemplated the best way to deal with them. Of course,
the easy solution would be to just kill them, but I had revenge simmering in
my blood. Dying was too quick and frankly not painful enough.
“What to do . . . ” Valerie didn’t even know these men were here, so I had
them all to myself to do whatever I wanted, and she’d never see the
aftermath. Each thing was on its knees, hands bolted to the floor, necks viced,
and asses in the air. When I set this up, I was pissed, but my clear-headedness
presented me with a problem I hadn’t considered.
Torture wasn’t my style—never had been. I thought I was angry enough
to do it, but I guess not.
“Good thing I have a girl on speed dial who enjoys this kind of thing.”
My murmur filled the otherwise quiet room, and I glanced over at Vanessa as
she glared at the captives with murder glowing in her eyes. “Let me know
when you want a break.”
“I won’t.” This was the problem with rape victims— there were far too
many, and not enough justice went around. Vanessa was my secretary now,
but she had actually been the one to come to me about being more . . .
reactive. I had to admit she was scary when she wanted to be, and the husk in
her tone told me this was one of those times.
Standing up, I nodded to her on my way out as she tugged her ponytail a
little tighter, and a strange, almost alien sensation draped my shoulders.
Boredom.
As I closed the heavy door, Vanessa’s gleeful giggle sent a shiver to
lodge between my shoulder blades, and I pursed my lips thinly. She went a
little nuts in situations like this, but they were so rare that I didn’t mind.
Without her, things wouldn’t run nearly as smoothly as they do, and I was
content to overlook her more psychopathic tendencies.
“I thought Illya had a tough time following through with shit, but you
take the cake, Carlyle.” For the first time since Illya took off her toenails,
Theo spoke to me, and I arched a brow quizzically as I passed him. “I thought
you wanted to personally sodomize them until they bleed out or whatever
fucked up shit you think of.”
“I may have let my anger get the best of me at the time.” My reply earned
me silence, and I paused my way to the elevator to turn to Theo and catch his
narrowed eye. “What?”
“You say all the time how you’d kill me and blah, blah, fuck all, but I’ve
never actually seen you do anything.” Rolling my eyes, I simply turned my
back on him to punch the elevator button, and I stuffed my hands in my
pockets. Growing up, my father made sure I knew how to fire a gun, and
martial arts were so cool to a twelve-year-old boy, but like anyone else, I
mostly used intimidation and fear of what might happen to maintain order.
Like with Pedro . . . that dick. I’d never actually hurt him or even done
anything at all to him, but he was still afraid of me. Was it the suit?
“You know, Theo, you deserve a vacation.” Nodding to myself, I ignored
the surprised gaze on my back as my brows furrowed deeply. “Take Illya and
go somewhere.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?” Tilting my head back, I huffed a sigh at
the gruffness in his tone. Why would Theo do that?
“I need to rework my Italian plan from scratch, as well as spend some
uninterrupted time with Valerie. I’m not leaving this building for a while.
You should take advantage of that. Illya would like it, I think.” The elevator
pinged shrilly, the doors sliding apart as I spoke, and I stepped into the metal
box with mixed feelings in my chest. Some shit was going to happen with
Oran, and I honestly didn’t want Illya to get caught up in the middle of it.
The very first night she was here, Oran had broken into Illya’s apartment.
I knew about it, of course, but I hadn’t acted on it.
That was going to change.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Waving a hand in dismissal
as the elevator worked its way up, I shook my head.
“Even if I did have a secret, you’d probably be able to figure it out from
the maids. Mainly, I’m going to bring all of Oran’s kittens here, and I’m
going to give him a choice. Kill them all and prove his loyalty to me or walk
away with them and never come back. If I can’t get rid of him, I’m going to
break him. It starts with those whores.” Leaning on the wall, I gazed steadily
at Theo as his brows worked over intelligent eyes. “I just needed a valid
reason, but I’m not my father— I won’t tolerate his bullshit.”
The box stopped moving, and I moved to step off the elevator to find my
brother standing there, waiting. Clenching my jaw hard, I nodded at him to
talk but didn’t slow my stride. Oran kept up with me, but I could feel the
annoyance at how small and insignificant he thought I thought he was as if
nothing he said had any value to me.
“The snake is trying to leave, and also, the girls are here.” That made me
pause mid-step, and I arched a brow at Oran as his lips thinned in his effort to
stop me seeing how much this hurt him. “She’s outside trying to take the car
they came in.”
“Where’s Valerie?”
“Drunk and passed out, at the moment, according to the maid who just
went in to clean up after them. Natasha was puking at the time.” Nodding
firmly, I rubbed my jaw in irritation. Esmarissa was really grinding down my
nerves. She’d overstayed her welcome before she even got here, and I started
off towards the stairwell leading to the quad. “Carlyle . . . ”
Oran grabbed my forearm firmly, and the hairs on the back of my neck
stood up as I slowly cast my gaze on him. He didn’t let go, his face
contorting in determination, and a wry smirk stretched my lips.
“Do you honestly expect that anything you say will make me change my
mind?” Oran was my brother, sure, but in name only. Both of them, the little
shits, just weren’t people I wanted to be around, but he surprised me when he
shook his head. “What, then, little brother?”
“I want you to let me kill them. Please. They’re my responsibility, and I
let my discipline slack.” In some fucked up way, this was Oran’s way of
protecting these girls, and I nodded curtly. He knew how I liked to operate, to
play games, and let them squirm and wonder and hope, only to kill it all off at
the last second. He took a shuddering, deep inhale, releasing my arm, and I
pushed open the exit door to head down the hallway.
“In a way, I am sorry for you, Oran. I think it might be time to reevaluate
your relationships. Maybe, try monogamy? It’s easier when there’s only one
to keep track of.” There was a deeper, darker reason behind my words—
Oran so desperately wanted control, so he created it in a microcosm. I had
two choices here, and he clearly intended to stick around a while, which
sucked some major ass for me.
But, even cockroaches were useful for some things.
“Give me the damn keys! I’ve fucking had it with this place!” Esmarissa
didn’t notice me immediately as she tried to wrest Carl’s keys, but he was
much taller than her. She stomped her heel on the asphalt, the breeze of early
autumn blasting through the tunnel created by the bridge that served as an
exit. “God damnit, you tall bastard.”
“What are you doing?” My words sliced through the mild sunlight and
Esmarissa whipped around as I strode across the lot. “Did I tell you that you
could leave?”
“You know what, Carlyle? You can’t keep me here anymore. Whatever
you planned on having me involved with, I’m not doing it.” Arching a brow,
I cocked my head when she crossed her arms over her bust, and her scars
shimmered between the shadows they made. “I’m going back to Nevada.”
“Okay.” Holding out my hand to Theo, I took his gun and pointed it at her
dog, and she tensed as horror blazed in her eyes. “Move a single fucking
muscle towards that car.”
The damn snake . . . I was so sick of her shit. She didn’t even blink, and I
sighed heavily as I stalked towards Esmarissa. Her striking, blue hair seemed
to fluff out as I got closer, and I held the gun on her dog as I grabbed her chin
with my free hand.
“Now.” Pressing the gun muzzle against her cheek, I relished Esmarissa
whimper, the paleness of her cheeks, the fear in her eyes. “You have one
chance left, Esmarissa. I am not in the habit of giving a third opportunity to
those who repeatedly show they won’t fix their behavior. When I call, you
come, and you stay until I tell you that you can leave. I gave you a grace
period after you took over Katherin’s slut factory because I was being
generous. Every time I give you an inch, you take a mile, and that is going to
end right here . . . right now.”
Putting a little pressure on her cheekbone, I licked my teeth when she
whimpered and nodded hastily before stepping back. Handing Theo his gun, I
rubbed my jaw and neck and rolled my shoulders to ease some of the tension
there.
I was entirely against animal cruelty, but if I had to threaten it, then so be
it. Esmarissa never had to know that I wouldn’t actually shoot her dog, just
that I considered it an option.
The misery you know is better than the misery you don’t know.
“You have good timing, at least. The reason you’re here is them.”
Pointing at the car, I appreciated that Carl opened the door— it added to the
dramatic effect that I liked to put on. Four girls of the same body type and
color filed out, and at first glance, they didn’t look like what most people
considered whores. They were all modestly dressed, with nice hair and clean
faces, and truly not very trashy looking at all.
“One of these is not like the others. It’s your job to tell me which one.”
39

Carlyle
“I don’t recognize any of these girls, Carlyle. Do you know how many I see
on a weekly? And that’s even considering she crossed my desk.” Folding my
legs under me, I ignored Esmarissa’s exasperated complaining for the
moment as I set my gaze on these girls. We’d traded the nice day and fresh
air for concrete walls and a steel door. I’d been down in this basement far too
often lately. On the other side of the wall, the pained cries and sobs of those
men being tortured filtered through the thick concrete, and each of Oran’s
sluts clearly knew something was up.
Although, I could see the one looked a little more nervous than the others,
trying too hard to seem just the right amount of worried and failing hard.
“It doesn’t matter who did it, Carlyle. What’s the point of trying to find
out?” Oran’s voice was deadpanned, and my eyes narrowed as they flickered
between all the girls. The one he’d had the longest, probably the one he
confided in the most, cast him a look, and I cocked my head. These girls were
not stupid by any means, even if they were quite a bit over the line separating
rubbing his feet and licking them.
“There is no point that’ll matter in the end, Oran, but I still want to know .
. . which one of you is a spy for the Italians.” All eyes were suddenly on me,
and I clenched and released my jaw as three of the girls simultaneously jolted
in shock. Training my gaze on the fourth, situated in the middle as if it’d help
her blend in, I couldn’t help the malicious smirk stretching my lips. She went
pale, a shiver jerking her shoulders, and her girlfriends’ eyes all moved to her
in unison.
“Roquelle. I bought her at an auction about two years ago.” It fit the
timeline, and Oran’s voice dropped low with betrayal, although, I wasn’t sure
what he expected. He screwed up these girls, who didn’t want to be sex
slaves. He gave them good treatment, bonded with them— essentially, they
were with him because of a particular form of Stockholm Syndrome.
Nodding with a grunt, I glanced at my brother as his expression turned to
stone to hide his realization.
No matter how much he messed with them, these girls always had the
ability to betray him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before. If she did come across my desk, I
dismissed her.” Esmarissa’s input was nil, and Oran shuffled to his girls to
very gingerly touch their cheeks one after another— but not Roquelle’s. His
shoulders curled, his back showing what his face wouldn’t, and my heart
ached for him. It must’ve been awful to be in a situation like this— that
much, I recognized.
But my brother did this to himself.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Whispering the question to the girl he was
closest to, Oran caressed down her neck, and she noticeably gulped.
“I told you I didn’t like her. I didn’t know why, so you dismissed it.” My
brows twitched in surprise at that, and I frowned deeply as the nameless face
twisted in sadness. “I don’t want to die for your mistake.”
“I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” Her sad smile widened slightly as
Oran wrapped both his hands around her neck and rubbed her jaw with his
thumbs. “I’m sorry.”
“I hope you live a long, long time.” She leaned forward and kissed him,
and my stomach roiled even as I refused to look away. Oran’s fingers flexed,
and the soft sound of her breaths turned to wheezes as her face tinged pink.
They stared each other right in the eyes the entire time, and only when her
orbs rolled back did he snap her neck with a deft jerk.
And she crumpled to the floor, the only sound in the room being her head
smack against the concrete.
My brother repeated the action three times, saving a shivering, crying
Roquelle for last as she struggled to stand. The arteries and muscles in his
neck bulged with his effort to contain himself, and Oran sniffed hard and
loud as he rolled his shoulders.
“It’s my fault, I know, but if you’d told me, we could’ve worked
something out, and you would be able to live. They all could’ve lived.”
Oran’s voice trembled, first with unfathomable sadness, but it slowly
morphed into anger that rang in the concrete room. Across the wall,
Vanessa’s gleeful giggles only added to the tense atmosphere, and I unfurled
my legs to cross my ankles. Gripping the edge of the table as the world
stilled, I clenched my jaw hard before Oran just . . . snapped.
He backhanded the girl across the face so hard she fell over the body to
her right, and the audible snap of bone echoed in my ears. She cried out,
holding her face as she tumbled to the floor, and Oran straddled her to land
punch after punch on her. Grunting with the effort, he heaved his whole body
into the power behind his fists, and his rage radiated from him in palpable
waves.
Oran grabbed Roquelle’s head in both his palms to smash it against the
concrete, and his bloodcurdling, gut-wrenching scream could probably be
heard all the way on the third floor. Her brains seeped out of her ears and
between his fingers, the smell of her death mixing with the others in the
room, but the stench of blood was all her. Solemn, silent, I watched him
struggled to his feet only to fall back onto his knees before he pummeled her
still chest.
Turning to Esmarissa as she watched in horror, I frowned under furrowed
brows as I contemplated what to do with her. If she became more of a
problem, she’d very well end up down here, and I was going to make it
explicitly clear.
“Don’t ever get bratty with me again, or you’ll end up like her. The only
difference is that I’ll do it myself.” She gulped, her blue hair shimmered
when she nodded curtly, and I waved in dismissal. “Tell Carson I want all the
dogs from his next litter. Leave, and you better make sure I don’t call you
back.”
“Yes, sir.” Very meekly, Esmarissa walked out, and I slid off the table to
walk over to Oran. Theo and I grabbed his arms, and he panted viciously as
we dragged him off what bloody bits remained of Roquelle’s head and chest.
“Come on, little brother. We’ll give them a proper burial.” Knowing now
that it truly and irrevocably was Oran’s fault, and that his little pets had tried
to warn him, I actually felt a little bad. “Let’s go.”
“N-no! No!” Oran’s glasses weren’t anywhere to be seen, and I nodded at
Theo when he started thrashing and screaming. Holding an arm back, I
waited for Theo to get Oran in a headlock, and it honestly wasn’t that hard.
My brother wanted to get back to Roquelle, to make her completely
unrecognizable as a human being, and he barely even swung at us. Flailing
about, his tears streamed down his face, and he rasped hard pants through
flared nostrils as spit and snot dribbled down his chin.
“Yeah, take a nap . . . easy.” Sputtering hiccups, Oran went limp, and I
released his arm before Theo slung him over his shoulder. “That wasn’t what
I expected her to say.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. Oran should’ve listened to his pets. If they all
said the same thing, they probably weren’t wrong. He’ll have to wrestle with
it by himself.”
“Yeah. It just sucks ass that it had to be this way. If she did become a
double agent, would you have used her?” Rubbing my jaw on the way out of
the room, I shrugged carelessly. Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I quickly
shot a text to Llane, and she replied almost immediately.
“I still would’ve killed her rather than risk being double-double crossed
or whatever it is. The others, they would’ve lived. I think, for Oran, that’s the
part he can’t stand. He could’ve prevented this, but his arrogance and high-
horse attitude got in the way. Like Illya said; hopefully, he’ll learn some
humility and be a little more humble and self-accepting. I’m not sure what
he’ll do next, but I honestly don’t care. All my business is done. Once you
drop him off with Llane, go make arrangements with Illya. You never know
when someone else might come in and fuck you up.” Theo didn’t offer a
reply, and I punched the elevator button with my thumb to lean against the
concrete wall and run my palms up my face. “I think I’ll do the same. I owe
Valerie and Natasha a trip to Vegas.”
40

Valerie
Hopping down the stairs, I pushed open the door at the end of the hall to
cross the bridge, and a small smile permanently tilted my lips. No one really
liked Monday, but I could feel it in my bones that something great was going
to happen today. We had ample time to set up our plan, and Carlyle promised
to take me on a date tonight. All the buzzing activity had calmed down
seemingly overnight, and I could barely feel all the alcohol I’d drunk
yesterday.
“Good morning!” Emerging into the borrowed conference room, I paused
at the intensely serious air that hit me like a brick wall, and Fred glanced up
from his tablet absently. “What’s up?”
“We got a lot of work to do. I wasn’t able to recover nearly as much from
my tablet as I thought. Carlyle’s guy even went through it, and no luck.”
Frowning slightly, I nodded as my mind whirred, and Marshal gestured to a
random seat from his own at the back end of the table. “Get to it, Valerie.
Where’s Natasha?”
“I thought she was here already. She wasn’t home when I woke up.” I sat
down to grab the sketch pad laid out for me, and Marshal grumbled to
himself as he rubbed his face. “It’s fine. Her laptop was in her room, so it
wasn’t affected by the blast, right?”
“I’m just upset. I have to go back today to get my mail. My landlady said
a certified letter came for me.” A soft ‘ah’ breached my lips, and Fred scoffed
lowly from his seat across from me.
“You need to set that bitch straight. You two have been married for
thirteen years, and it’s not like you’re neglecting her or anything. Just
because she fell out of love with you doesn’t give her the right to act like a
bitch.” He seemed arguably more bitter about Marshal’s impending divorce
than even Marshal did, and Fred shot his friend a stern look. “Did the lawyer
Carlyle promised you get back to you yet?”
“Yeah, he said he’ll be up from New York City on Wednesday, and we
have that meeting with the marketer on Thursday, and . . . I’m not nearly
prepared for that. The good thing, if there is one, is this lawyer is confident
he can force Jenna to drop her claims. I’m sure she would once she knows
what I know about the situation, but I looked up his name, and he’s really,
really aggressive.” I wondered for a moment if Marshal was more torn up
about his wife leaving him than what she wanted him to shell out. They’d
married for a reason, after all, and her change of tune happened before we’d
even met. Truthfully, I wasn’t going to pry, but Marshal didn’t seem to need
any prodding as he sighed heavily. “I don’t understand why Jenna’s going
after me for the house, the cars, everything. She makes more than I do . . .
always has.”
“It sucks, Marshal, but everything will be okay.” My reassurance fell flat,
but I had nothing else to say because I’d never been divorced. Fred grumbled
to himself, and the atmosphere was decidedly negative as I tapped my pencil
on my pad. Glancing between the two, I rolled my lips between my teeth as
they sat, still and unproductive. “Do you guys wanna go out and have some
bro time or something? We’re not going to get anything done, and the
meeting on Thursday, it’s just with a marketer. It’s not like we have to pitch
anything, just have a general marketing plan.”
“Yeah.” My lips twitched up sadly, and Marshal leaned back in his chair
to rub his face roughly, curling his fingers into his hair. “You’re right, Val.
It’s not a pitch.”
The doors at the front of the room swung open, and I twisted in my seat
as Natasha and Carlyle came waltzing through. My heart stuttered at her huge
smile that had never dimmed, remaining bright and perpetual like the sun.
“We’re going on vaca-a-a-tion!” Dancing a little on her way towards me,
Natasha gripped the back of my chair to swing me side to side, and my brows
raised in surprise. “The Vegas trip is back on! Woo!”
“What? But what about the meeting Thursday?” Confusion lilted my
voice, and Natasha shook her head as Carlyle sat on the edge of the table. We
had a lot to do, and vacation right now wasn’t exactly on the agenda.
“It’s not a weeklong trip, just two days. After the past few weeks, I
thought you two could use some stress-free, guilt-free fun. We’ll be back late
Tuesday night.” Answering my whirling questions, Carlyle caught my gaze
and held it, and the gravity of his stare dragged down the corners of my
mouth. “I know you were excited to go. I still have to make a trip to Reno,
but the flight is only an hour.”
“O-oh . . . we were going on a date tonight.”
“We are.” My brows rose higher, and he nodded at my sister even though
his gaze didn’t leave me. “I’m an innocent bystander in all this.”
“Do you just not talk to me first and go around making plans without me
that involve me? I don’t really want to go right now. We have a lot to do, and
you said it yourself, Carlyle. You’re not going to help us more than you
already have. We succeed ourselves.” His lips thinned, and shadows played
in his eyes as I crossed my arms and slumped back in my chair. “Why not let
Natasha, Fred, and Marshal go together? We were just talking about them
having some bro time because we’re not gonna get anything done like this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Bro time, by definition, excludes me, so
...”
“We were going to exclude you for sexy time, so what’s the difference?”
Flopping my head back, I frowned at my sister as she tinged pink in the face,
and I inhaled a breath through flared nostrils. “I don’t want to go. Fred and
Marshal want to do something, and Carlyle only wants to go because he
thought I wanted to go. What’s the difference, spending time here or in a
hotel room in Vegas?”
Turning to Carlyle as I spoke, I arched a brow quizzically, and he only
shook his head mutely. Silence met my question, and I hoisted myself out of
the chair to walk the short distance to him. The closer I came, the more stony
his expression, and my heart ached for him as I palmed his sides.
“You don’t have to have anywhere to go or anything to do to entice me to
spend time with you, Carlyle. We . . . we talked about this, remember? And
the only reason I wanted to go was that we could spend time together.” He
had to decency to look a little guilty through the crack in his facade, and I
rolled my bottom lip between my teeth to gnaw diligently. My brows
furrowed, and I cupped his chin very gently when it seemed like he’d look
away. “Hey, it’s hard to change what you always knew. I get that.”
Carlyle never had to answer to anyone but his father. He made decisions,
and people fell over themselves to obey. He had an idea, and other people
changed their plans to accommodate, not him. Everything he did was right,
even when it wasn’t.
“Does anyone care if we want to go?” Carlyle blinked as Marshal cleared
his throat roughly, and I didn’t protest when he leaned back to run his hand
through his thick hair. Sliding off the table, he tugged smooth his jacket and
physically shirked his feelings for the moment to nod firmly. “Because I’d
really enjoy going, honestly. I have some money saved up that was supposed
to go to a lawyer. Maybe, I’ll get lucky and win something cool.”
 “You’re right, Valerie.” His tone thickened with an apology, and I ducked
my head as a small smile crested my cheeks. Turning to Marshal and Fred, he
nodded again curtly. “You should go. I’ll have Jerry do the tickets. You’ll be
going with Theo and Illya, so I hope it’s not too awkward considering you’re
pretty much strangers.”
“Can they drink a lot?” Nodding again at Fred’s question, Carlyle’s jaw
ticked, and my coworker— or business partner?— shrugged out of the corner
of my eye. “Then, we’ll be best friends by the time we get back.”
“I’ll set it up.” Casting me a long look, Carlyle slowly turned to leave the
room, and I dropped into my chair to close my eyes and sigh heavily. He’d
done things he wouldn’t tell me about, gone around me to Natasha about my
mom, and I knew he wanted to keep me at arm’s length.
But it just . . . it didn’t work like that.
41

Carlyle
Surprise rose my brows when Oran slipped into my office, and I scanned him
shrewdly as he gently shut the door behind him. He didn’t wear his glasses—
he’d broken them when he attacked Roquelle— and deep, dark bags hung
under his eyes. Silently sitting in the chair across from me, he rubbed his
palms together, his unreadable expression and shielded eyes turning to his
feet.
“I’m sorry, Carlyle.” I nearly choked on my own spit as shock rattled my
spine, but Oran didn’t raise his eyes to behold the intense befuddlement that
rippled across my face. My little brother never apologized for anything, let
alone to me personally, and I clenched my hands into tight fists as he rasped a
sigh. “I messed up. Really bad. And . . . and it made me realize . . . this thing
that’s always gone on between us . . . it has to stop. A lot of my decisions
have been bad ones.”
“Oran . . . ” Speechlessness was too soft a word to describe my utter lack
of brain activity at this moment, and he clasped his hands tightly between his
knees.
“I’m leaving tomorrow. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I have to
figure out who I am when I’m not comparing myself to you. I know that I
can’t expect you to accept me back so easily, but maybe . . . maybe I won’t
come back as your employee. Who knows? I need to find out.” Discomfort
and shock soured my expression, but I simply nodded and cleared my throat
as Oran blustered a huge, soullessly exhausted sigh. “I didn’t listen to her
because I always thought I was right, even when I wasn’t. You wouldn’t have
brushed that aside, but I did, and now she’s de—”
Pressing his knuckles to his mouth, Oran’s shoulders curled deeper, and
my lips twitched in a sad scowl. A flurry of emotion slammed against my
ribs, and I stood up to round my desk and sit against it. He turned his head in
shame, and, for a flash of a second, I wondered if he could recover from what
had happened.
“Oran, you made a mistake, and you’re learning from it. I know it won’t
change what you had to do, but at least it won’t happen again. As much as it
hurts, it was for the best for everyone. You would’ve never trusted them
again, and they wouldn’t have confided in you the way you want.” Grabbing
both his shoulders, I frowned under deeply knit brows at the tension
thrumming through Oran, and he glanced up at me with red-rimmed,
bloodshot eyes. “Don’t make the same mistakes. Trust your instincts, but also
those around you. Even if it might not make sense, if you have an urge,
follow it.”
“I had that same feeling she wasn’t right.” The tentative confession sent a
shiver lodging between my shoulders blades, and suddenly, it all fell into
place. Oran was so torn up because he could’ve prevented this. Just as I knew
he would, he’d be so screwed up that he wouldn’t stay. As much as this was a
victory for me professionally, it was a failure personally, and those two
clashed viciously in my chest. “I thought I could break her hard enough, but I
failed. I thought I was able to rewrite anything the way I wanted it, and I was
wrong.”
“Sometimes, we’re wrong. I know that I haven’t exactly treated Valerie
with the respect and consideration she deserves lately because I thought that I
was protecting her, that I knew what was better when I really didn’t. It’s a
learning curve, brother. That’s all. There’s always room for improvement.”
My own guilt over the situation bled into my tone, and Oran gulped harshly
as he exhaled a shuddering breath. “We’re not perfect, and we can’t think we
are. People get hurt, physically or emotionally. We have to prevent that,
right?”
“Yeah.” He sniffed hard, standing up slowly to rub his face and up into
his hair with trembling fingers, and I released his shoulders to brace myself
on my desk. “I’m going to go now, Carlyle.”
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Oran. I really, truly do.” I don’t
know what I was expecting, but Oran wrapped his arms around me and
squeezed. Gingerly following suit, my cheek twitched when one of his tears
seared down my neck and under my collar. He was hot, but his hands were
cold, and I patted his back firmly before he drew back and nodded a jerk of
his head.
“Okay.” Just as solemn and heavy-footed, Oran slunk out of my office,
and I cocked my head at the closed door while my brain stalled. Did that
really just happen? Did Oran, who had a beef with me for being born first,
just bow out? Granted, the push I gave him was a hard one, but I didn’t
expect him to react so early or so gracefully.
 It gave me some hope that he’d better himself, and that opened up a
window I hadn’t considered . . . maybe ever.
Having a brother, not a subordinate.
“What a concept.” Murmuring to myself, I shook my head in an effort to
jolt my brain into working again, and a sigh deflated my chest. “Mateo’s
next.”
“I’m glad I got that moment.” Glancing over at the sofa as Valerie
sketched furiously, I frowned under furrowed brows at the concentration on
her face. I’d forgotten she was here, and she scrunched up her face in an
effort to draw exactly what she’d seen.
“I forgot you were here for a second. That was surprising— I didn’t
expect him to withdraw so easily.” Wandering back around my desk, I
couldn’t help the slight twinge of embarrassment stinging my chest. I had
specifically talked about her, and she was sitting right there. Humming softly,
Valerie didn’t look up from her pad, and I sat down to wiggle the mouse on
the screen.
“You always talk about your siblings like you’re all at war with each
other. Sometimes, you’re on the same side, but different factions, and other
times, you’re on opposite sides completely. I think it was really important
that you and Oran reached some sort of middle ground.” If she was flattered
that I’d mentioned her, Valerie didn’t show it in her tone. She sounded proud,
and I smiled at the faint reflection of myself on the screen. “Have you and
Oran always been at odds like that?”
“Yeah. I suppose there were ways I could’ve helped the situation. I never
wanted him around. I prefer working alone. It probably didn’t help that
Mateo was the youngest, and Sonja was the only girl. It probably felt like
Oran, and I competed a lot to be the best because those two spots were
taken.” My voice thickened thoughtfully, but I shook my head as I leaned
back in my chair to sigh heavily. “I don’t know what’ll happen. It’s kind of
exciting.”
“It was a nice speech, Carlyle.” Smiling lightly, I turned my gaze to
Valerie fully as she scribbled away, her lips thinned in concentration. “It’s
always important to recognize your faults.”
“Thank you.” The conversation stalled, but I didn’t try to revive it as she
worked furiously. She was such a good artist— with people, particularly—
and I stood up to walk over to the sofa. Sitting down leisurely, I stretched my
legs and flung an arm over the back of the couch, and the tiredness of the last
few days hit me hard.
“If you need to talk about what happened, Valerie, I’ll listen.” She paused
at my mumble, and I closed my eyes to sink into the thick cushions before
her pencil scratching the page filled my ears. Of course, she was right— just
knowing she was here, in the same room, despite not actively doing
something together, was very nice.
“I don’t want to talk about it, but thanks. Honestly, I haven’t thought
about it that much. It’s kinda surreal, almost like it didn’t happen. I’d like to
keep it that way.” Rubbing the smooth curve of her back under her shirt, I
hummed softly, the steady beat of her heart never wavering under my palm.
“I’d rather fool myself into thinking she’s still out there, ignoring me and
ruining herself.”
“Alright.” I mean, I could understand that, to a point. Valerie’s mother
had shredded their lives with a hacksaw, and once she had disappeared, the
world was right again. That didn’t mean she had to be dead— she just had to
be gone. Where and how and why were meaningless, and Valerie hadn’t
actually seen where the gunshot went.
For all she knew, I’d dumped her in New York City.
“Boss! Boss . . . boss . . . boss!” Bursting into my office, Carl zoomed to
the bookshelf to grab the TV remote, and I arched a brow as he called me
breathlessly. “It’s all over the news, about the bomb and how it’s connected
to those gangbangers dropping like flies. Those guys Oran sent invitations to
really work fast.”
“I knew they would. They’re professionals, and it’s quite a lot of money
when it racks up.” Twenty-five thousand dollars a head was an average price,
to be honest, but there were a lot of Baron Ninety-Nine members just waiting
around to be killed. Carl flicked on the news, and I cracked my eyes open to
watch a video of the flaming, smoking ruins of one of Pedro’s warehouses.
Valerie paused her drawing to watch the news anchor, and I felt her head
stutter against my hand. That’s right. She didn’t know about this.
“They’re calling it gang warfare, but those detectives down there must
realize it’s way too clean, right?” The shot of the warehouse zoomed out to a
generic cop badge symbol, and I nodded firmly. “You think they’re gonna do
anything about it?”
“I doubt it. It’s one less gang in a city being overrun with drugs.” Just as I
answered, there was an urgent report, and the frazzled news anchorwoman
glanced past the camera. “Even if they have their suspicions, they’re not
going to find anything to the contrary. Baron Ninety-Nine has two choices at
this point— go underground or keep dying. At least they’re finally getting the
attention they want.”
“Yeah, you know, I heard from Pedro when I was driving him to the
airport. He called someone and basically told them to rip apart known
hangouts on the other side of the border. He’s mad pissed, man.” Inhaling
deeply, I only shook my head at that because what Pedro did on his own turf
wasn’t my business, but I was glad he was angry.
It’d give him less incentive to let anyone fuck him over again, and thus
stay off my radar. There wasn’t much more he could hand me if he landed in
my sights again . . . except his life, of course.
I’m sure it’ll come down to that, eventually.
42

Valerie
“Okay, I hope you have a lot of fun, Nat.” Holding my cell phone to my ear
with my shoulder, I popped open the oven to put the lasagna I’d made inside.
Heat wafted my hair around my ears, and my sister laughed tipsy on the other
end of the line. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Have fun on your date, too, Val. Talk to you later.” Hanging up to set
my phone on the counter, I clapped my palms together to sigh, and a leisurely
kind of happiness settled deep in my chest. Natasha left me her lasagna
recipe, and I fixed my hair over my shoulders as heated excitement wormed
between my lungs.
A soft knock on the front door drew my attention, and I gnawed on my
lower lip as I went to answer. Carlyle gazed down at me warmly, a smile
stretching his lips, and flames licked up my neck as he leaned on the door
frame. This time, he didn’t wear a suit. I honestly didn’t think he owned a
pair of jeans, but the light khakis clinging to his hips were as casual as I’d
seen him.
“Hi . . . hey.” Tearing my eyes off his crotch, I blushed at the knowing
glint in his eye, and Carlyle’s smile widened. “Come in.”
“I would be delighted.” Stepping to the side, I pressed against the door,
and Carlyle breezed past to brush against me suggestively. Flames crawling
up my abdomen, and I shut the door as expectancy tingled my fingertips. My
toes dug into the carpet as I followed him to the sofa, and we sat down in a
tense, sexually charged awkwardness.
“Are you going to treat me differently now that you know?” The question
just burst out of me, and I clamped my hands over my mouth as my desire
tinged thickly in embarrassment. Staring at my lap when Carlyle’s gaze bored
holes into my cheek, I silently cursed myself, and my skin jumped when he
cupped my chin. Forcing me to look at him, he frowned slightly under
furrowed brows, and I held my breath as my heart thundered rapidly in its
cage.
“Yes.” Rolling my lips between my teeth to hide my own frown, I tensed
when Carlyle swooped in to kiss me so sweetly that it stole what little stale
breath I had. Goosebumps swept down my body, and he pinched my chin
gently as his passion and his anger and his gratitude clogged my throat.
Reaching a tentative hand to his chest, I didn’t protest when he caressed up
my jaw, and his palm clung to the back of my head gingerly.
His tongue slipped past my teeth, and I leaned forward when Carlyle
tangled his fingers in my hair. Tangling with mine, his taste coated the roof
of my mouth, and I shuffled to straddle him as he laid back on the armrest.
All we did was kiss, but it was so wonderful— so liberating— and the
passion behind his tongue warmed my whole body.
Carlyle’s kisses couldn’t hide anything, and a moan squeezed past the
dense lump in my throat when he palmed down my back. The lacy lingerie I
wore under my clothes suddenly became itchy, and he gasped into my mouth
as his tongue danced with mine. His body heat seeped through my clothes,
and I slowly managed to undo each button of his shirt.
“Valerie . . . ” Covering my hands with his when I reached the last button,
Carlyle pulled my knuckles to his lips, and his eyes shone so brightly with all
his passion that they threatened to blind me. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Yeah.” He was so strong, this man who grabbed my thighs, sat up, and
then stood in one smooth movement. His muscles played against my front,
and my knees clung to his sides as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“You’re so strong, Carlyle.”
“I have to be.” The simple answer tugged up the corners of my lips, and
Carlyle nudged open my bedroom door and didn’t bother to close it. We
didn’t have to worry about anyone barging in on us. Natasha was on a plane
above Georgia or somewhere, so it was just me and him here.
Setting me in the middle of my bed, Carlyle held himself above me on his
hands and knees, and I threaded my fingers through his hair. The soft, silky
strands tickled between my fingers, and he didn’t protest when I drew his lips
to mine. My abdomen clenched as he settled between my legs, and every cell
in me buzzed with desire and something deeper . . . more profound.
Steering from my mouth, Carlyle placed hot, open-mouthed kisses down
my neck, and I gasped when he flicked my pulse point with his tongue. My
nipples tightened and ached with need, and I arched slightly as a whimper
breached my lonely lips. Pink seeped into the corners of my vision, and he
very slowly rolled up my shirt as he laved the swell of my breasts.
“Oh . . . ” The thin lace holding back my breasts scratched my skin
compared to his touch, and Carlyle’s little, breathless moan surged down my
sternum. With care, he pulled my shirt over my head, and I inhaled a shallow,
shuddering breath as he caressed down my arms with rough fingertips.
“You’re beautiful . . . words aren’t enough.”
“Numbers are, though.” Once again, my words just slipped out, and my
ears burned at the tender smile Carlyle showed me. Covering my mouth with
his, he snuck his tongue to tangle around mine, and I moaned at the
sweetness of his taste.
“On a scale of one to ten, you’re a thirty-two.” Mouthing the number, my
heart fluttered at the reverence in Carlyle’s tone, and he reached between us
to unfasten my jeans. The coarse hairs on his arm tickled my skin, and I fisted
the pillow above my head loosely as he sat back on his knees. “Make that a
thirty-three.”
It seemed so trivial and superficial that I had a number, but pride surged
through me knowing I was the highest. I’d always be the highest. There’d
never be another woman who even got the honor of a number. Peeling my
jeans down my legs, Carlyle’s eyes never left mine, and he kissed my heel
and calf as he tossed my pants off the bed.
Trailing his nails up my thigh, Carlyle’s touch sent spasms through me,
and need gripped my spine in a vice.
“I’m so sorry.” The apology thickened his voice, a slight, raw lilt
scratching my ears, and his eyes shone brilliantly with all the things he
wouldn’t say. “I promise I’ll do better for you, Valerie.”
“I promise, too, to always try to be on your side, even when you’re
wrong.” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my words couldn’t
accurately portray what I meant, but Carlyle understood. Draping himself
over me, he captured my lips to seal our promises, and I cupped his face in
warm hands as he dropped to his elbows. Deepening our kiss, his tongue
danced around mine, but it was as much a seal on a secret as it was a promise.
“This is very pretty— it’s a good color on you.” Flirting with the cup of
my bra, Carlyle’s fingertips thickened the goosebumps that swarmed my
chest. Flames licked up my neck as he licked his way down, and I gasped
when he sucked my nipple into his mouth through the thin fabric. “Green is a
good color on you, Valerie.”
“The description online when I bought it said it was oak green.” My voice
trembled, and tiny shocks of pleasure streamed down my chest when Carlyle
hummed softly. His teeth grazed my nipple, and I arched into his mouth with
a small moan while he tweaked my other peak greedily.
 “You look like a fairy. It’s very sexy.” My lips parted in surprise at that,
and he met my eyes and held them as he kissed down my belly. Desire ran
rampant in my veins when he dipped his tongue into my navel, and I moaned
as he gripped my thighs to part them. “It’s going to be a long, long night,
Valerie.”
“Carlyle . . . ” He licked outside my panties with all of his tongue, and I
shivered with a moan as rapture shot through me. My hands flew to his hair,
and he hummed softly in satisfaction as he spread my legs wider. “Oh, my,
God . . . Carlyle . . . ”
Nibbling my clit, his hot breath seeped through the fabric, and I squeezed
my eyes shut to savor the sensations curling my toes. Small grumbles and
sounds of satisfaction reverberated through me, and he flicked his tongue
against my sensitive nub. Rumbles of euphoria began to radiate from my
core, the heat beating sweat down my neck, and I flexed my fingers in his
hair in wordless greed.
Crawling up to capture my mouth in a hot, passionate kiss, Carlyle
sucked in a breath through his nose before pulling back to pant hoarsely. For
a fraction of a second, I thought I saw something dark and wild in his eye, but
he hid it well before claiming my lips and tongue.
43

Valerie
Grinding against me, the friction of our bodies dribbled between my breasts,
and Carlyle lapped it up like he lived on my sweat. Every tilt of his hips,
every breath, was heavy, savoring each individual sensation, and I gripped
the pillow above my head tighter. He lavished me with his kisses, the dense
tickle of his happy trail against my abdomen, and I sucked in a shallow inhale
as he peeled back the thin lace of my bra.
Tugging my throbbing nipple with his teeth, Carlyle reached between us
into my panties, and I sputtered a moan. His rough fingers circled my clit
expertly, eyes laser-focused on my face to capture each minute flicker of
pleasure, and I gulped down the lump in my throat. His finger slid easily
between my folds, and he switched to my left nipple to groan in satisfaction.
My juices dripped onto the sheet, and his lips caressed my abdomen before
he pulled my panties off.
“Beautiful . . . ” The reverent whisper slithered up my sternum, and
Carlyle licked his lips hungrily as he gripped my thighs and spread them
wide. My slick folds parted to expose me to his gaze, and I clenched on
nothing as he settled on his front. Flicking the tip of his tongue up my slit, he
drew a guttural moan from deep in my chest, and I tensed as pleasure gripped
my muscles.
Gripping his head with my thighs, I trembled under the weight of his
mouth, and he gingerly worked two fingers into my channel as he swirled his
tongue around my bead. Sputtering a moan, I tilted my hips eagerly, and
Carlyle caressed my inner walls as he pulled out. Reaching to grip my breast
and squeeze, he grumbled his satisfaction when I tightened around his digits,
and his knuckle hairs gyrated against my folds.
“C-Carlyle . . . I’m gonna come. Make me . . . make me come.” Pressure
built behind my shuttered lids, but I wasn’t sure Carlyle could hear me
through my tense thighs. My walls undulated around his fingers, and he
curled and twisted as pleasure coiled in my belly. “Carlyle . . . ”
Panting harsh and irregular, I tangled my hands in his hair to grind
against his mouth, and Carlyle’s groan bounced off my lower ribs. Shivering
as I lost myself in the glory of it all, I struggled a sputtering moan, and he
twisted his fingers to just the right spot. Pleasure flooded my body, and my
thighs tightened around his head as my heels dug into his shoulders. The
ground-shattering moan that escaped me thickened the atmosphere, and I
arched sharply in an effort to relieve the pressure on me.
But Carlyle didn’t give an inch, and I spasmed lightly when he tugged my
clit with his teeth. My juices spilled out of my entrance when he eased out of
me, and he licked them up with feverish, proud sounds. The frenzy in my
chest stole the energy in my legs as they fell apart, and he kissed up my front
as his fingers teased my entrance.
“I love that sound.” Capturing my lips hard, Carlyle’s grumble lodged in
my throat, and he slipped three fingers into my channel. Grinding his body to
his thrusts, his pants rolled down the valley between my breasts, and I
gripped his face in both my clammy palms. The taste of myself and him was
intoxicating, and he drew back to duck into my neck as he humped me. A soft
squelch cut through the dense air between us, and he wiggled and curled his
fingers as I clenched around them.
Flinging my arms over his shoulders, my nails dug into his skin, and
Carlyle’s powerful muscles played under sweat-slickened skin.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again. I-I’m gon-na . . . I . . . ” Burying my shriek
of pleasure in his shoulder, my knees clung to his hips as spasms strafed my
spine. “Oh, my, God . . . Carlyle!”
My toes curled sharply, and I scratched at Carlyle’s back as rapture
blanketed my mind. His fingers left me to be replaced with the scorching hot,
spongy head of his cock, and he ground between my folds to coat himself in
my wetness. Bracing his forearm above my head, he pulled back his hips and
palmed my crown, and I gasped as anticipation sloshed through my chest.
“Fuck me hard . . . hard . . . hard . . . hard! Fuck me hard!” If he had tried
to be gentle and caring, his efforts just stopped at my plea, and Carlyle thrust
with a sharp snap of his hips. His cock stretched my walls, the silkiness of his
skin gyrating against my walls as they clamped down on him. Gripping my
ass with his nails, he strained a groan through teeth that dug into the taut
muscles in my neck.
Rolling back, my eyes ached from the vicious pounding against them, and
Carlyle exited me almost completely before surging back in. His hips bashed
mine with the distinctive slap of skin on skin, and he set a grueling, vicious
pace. Undulating around his hard cock, I spasmed with the force of my
orgasm, and he jostled both my legs over his shoulders to pin my knees
against my chin.
“Oh-h-h fuck! Fuck me hard! Harder!” Squeaking my pathetic need, I
panted weakly as Carlyle grabbed the backs of my knees and drilled. Colorful
spots assaulted my shuttered lids, and I gripped the pillow above me just to
hold onto something. His cock bruised my spot over and over, the veins
caressing sweetly even as he rammed my channel. Grunts rained down on
me, and he spread my thighs to watch his cock disappear into my channel.
“Jesus, Valerie . . . Val . . . you sweet-t . . . ” Sharp, jarring thrusts sent
me high, higher, and higher, Carlyle grunted my name as he forced himself
as deep as he could go. His sac slapped against my ass cheeks, his nails
digging to the point of stinging, and I came hard. Air invaded the thin space
between my brain and my skull, and I couldn’t remember to breathe under
the onslaught as pleasure locked my empty lungs.
“On your knees. On your knees, Valerie.” Unhooking his nails from my
quivering flesh, Carlyle jostled my hips up, and my knees spread easily apart
on the sheets. He jiggled my ass cheeks with an appreciative groan, and I
managed a shallow breath before he plunged into my depths with a grunt.
“Fu-u-uck!”
His hiss rolled up my back, and my cry of pleasure muffled in the bed as I
clenched around his thick rod. Cracking his palm against my ass cheek,
Carlyle growled gutturally, and I arched hard as the sting surged behind his
groan to lodge between my shoulder blades.
“Fuck . . . fuck . . . fuck yes-s-s! Carlyle! Spank me . . . oh-h-h, God!”
Smacking my ass cheeks, Carlyle gripped the globes and spread them,
squeezing hard, and I lost it. Tears rolled down my nose, and I shuddered as
my high-pitched moans morphed into whimpers. His thrusts sharpened, and
he gripped my hips tightly to force me back onto his cock. “Oh, God, yes-s-s-
s. Right there . . . right there!”
Draping himself over me, Carlyle kissed my shoulder, and I was sure my
brain blew a fuse. I couldn’t do anything but take what he gave me, and he
pushed down on my head and reached his arm under my thigh to circle my
clit furiously.
“Christ!” He thrust one final time, his cock throbbing to the furious beat
of my heart as he emptied himself inside me. Tensing against my back, his
muscles strained under his skin, and I pushed my ass against the rock-hard
tone of his abs. My legs slid out from under me, and we collapsed into a heap
of sweaty, quivering flesh and ragged pants. His weight was so comfortable
that even if I could breathe, I didn’t want to, and I whimpered as the air was
pushed out of my lungs.
“Your ass cheeks flex when you come. It’s so cute.” Growling lowly in
my ear, Carlyle managed to half-roll off me, and I groaned mindlessly in
acknowledgment. Caressing my flaming skin, he squeezed my cheeks and
raked his nails up my back to wrap his arm under my chin. Harsh pants dried
the sweat on my back, and I gripped his wrist weakly as he held me to him.
44

Carlyle
Flopping my head back, I closed my eyes to savor the sound of Valerie
choking on my cock, and pleasure tingled my thighs. She’d reversed my
stance on blowjobs with one expert, flick of her tongue, and I gathered up her
hair to watch my shaft disappear down her throat.
Some of the girls I’d been with were sloppy, slobbering messes, but not
Valerie. She sucked up her spit and dribbled it down to pump my cock, and I
groaned softly when she squeezed the base. Clenching my jaw, I fisted both
my hands in her hair, and her soft palms braced against my knees as I took
control. Her gags became louder, her throat flexing around the head of my
cock so nice, and I sat up to thrust against her chin.
“Fuck, Valerie.” I couldn’t take it anymore, only managing a few thrusts
before pulling her head up, and her bright, brown eyes locked on mine.
Valerie practically jumped into my lap, and I kissed her hard as her hand
fumbled to poise my tip between those luscious folds. The taste of her was
indescribable, and she sat her tight pussy down my shaft to shudder and arch.
Tearing my hands from her hair, I squeezed and pinched her breasts— if
nothing else, I would never get tired of feeling the heavy globes spill out
between my fingers.
“Yeah . . . yeah . . . yeah . . . ” Whispering fast and hoarse, Valerie
bounced on my cock and tossed her head back, and I ground my teeth against
the utter euphoria building at my tailbone. “Fuck it’s so-o-o good-”
Sucking her tight, pink nipples, I grappled her fat ass and squeezed, and
she shivered and moaned as she tightened around my shaft. She made that
sound— that beautiful moan that crackled in the middle and got higher at the
end— and it was almost enough for me. Rolling her hips, she braced her
hands on the sofa cushion, and I leaned back to tug her nipple harshly.
“Bounce that ass on my cock, Valerie . . . oh fuck . . . ” My voice shook,
and Valerie arched sharply at my demand before pulled her feet up onto the
couch. “Yes-s-s just like that . . . just like that.”
Squeezing her breasts together, I groaned as they jiggled from her jerky
movements, and Valerie gasped when I palmed her ass cheeks. She paused,
head flopping forward under her eyes met mine under those thick eyelashes,
and I cupped her head to draw her lips to mine.
Smack me hard. I could hear that whine ringing in my ears, and she
hadn’t even said it. Rubbing her ass cheeks, I groaned when her pussy
quivered in expectation, and I reared back my palm to slap the globe. She
jolted with a squeak, and I sputtered as she squeezed my cock with the force
of her orgasm.
“Shit, Val, you come so easily.” Not that I was complaining, but how was
I supposed to stave off when she just got tighter and tighter and tighter.
Rolling her hips against my thighs, Valerie crashed her lips on mine, and I
thrust sharply as my need for her just spilled over. Tangling my hands in her
hair, I held her down and fucked her deep, and she squawked with each snap
of my hips.
Hers was such a cute sound.
“Fuck . . . get on your knees, Val.” I wasn’t holding it together very well,
but Valerie swung her leg over me to bend over my cock. Her soft lips closed
around my head, and I pushed down to throat fuck her as I braced my feet on
the floor. Gagging loudly, she hollowed out her cheeks, and my balls drew up
as I ground my teeth and tensed with an expectation of my own. “Ah, yes-s!”
She sucked me dry, her teeth grazing the ridge of my head, and I
shuddered violently as my cum spurted onto her tongue. Pleasure rippled up
my cock, and I stuttered a groan as Valerie swallowed my load with a
hungry, pleased hum. Licking me clean, she panted furiously, her face red
and teary, and I pulled her head to mine even while she pumped my cock.
Dragging her on top of me as I laid down on the sofa, I gripped Valerie’s
ass as her palms braces on either side of my head. She was always ready,
always wet, and I thrust my half-hard cock between her legs. Tangling my
tongue around hers, I couldn’t get enough, and I caressed up her back before
she sat up to grind against me.
“Oh . . . ” Rubbing her engorged clit with my thumb, I smirked at her
little noise, and she threw her head back to get her hair out of her face. “I love
it! I love it! Oh, my God, Carlyle . . . ”
“If only I could get you to love the rest of me as much as you love my
cock.” The words slipped lazily out of my mouth, and Valerie’s chin touched
her chest as she puffed out her lips at me. Gripping her waist, I focused on
catching my breath than thinking too much— that five-year difference was
pretty telling right now.
 “You can’t expect that until after I stayed awake for Willem Dafoe.
That’s a true milestone.” Barking a hoarse laugh, I propped my arm under my
head, and amusement jostled in my chest among all the other shit I felt at this
moment. “If I can’t do that, then there’s not much more you need to know
about my commitment issues.”
“We should get to that, then.” She smiled so sweetly, and I sighed in
complacency as she leaned down to kiss me even sweeter. Cupping her
cheek, I held her mouth to mine, and she sunk into my chest. “Not right after
sex, though.”
“I’m gonna pass out.” Nuzzling my chest, Valerie mimicked my sigh as I
buried my nose in her hair, and my eyes rolled a little at how delicious she
smelled. “We’ll set aside some time. I will get to the end.”
My cheek twitched at that, and I wondered if Valerie was talking about
the movie or this life. She’d never expressly said she wanted in, and she
avoided most things unless they were noticeably bothering me. I didn’t blame
her, of course, but I wasn’t sure how long she could tow that line.
“Hey, Valerie?” Humming softly in acknowledgment, she played with my
chest hair absently, and I stared dazedly at the ceiling. “I’ll never, ever
begrudge you for walking away if you ever do.”
“If I’m not around . . . ” Speaking haltingly, Valerie’s jaw worked against
my sternum when she licked her lips. “There won’t be anybody who’s not
afraid of you, Carlyle. There won’t be anybody you’re afraid of.”
Inhaling deeply, I didn’t have anything to say to that because, once again,
Valerie was right and I was wrong. Covering her face with my palm, I
caressed her hairline and tucked the strands behind her ear.
If this was what life would be like for the rest of mine, I would be happy.
I would be more than happy.
Erik
1

Natasha
Bopping my head to the music flowing from my headphones, I puffed out my
lips absently before flopping my head back. Writing the entire code from start
to finish was taking much more effort than I’d anticipated, and I glanced over
at Fred as he scribbled away on a notepad.
We were putting the final touches on the story, the drawings, everything
was just waiting on me to finish the scripting.
Which sucked to write.
“Hey, Fred—” Pulling my headphones off to catch the tail end of his
grunt of acknowledgment, I licked my lips heavily. “Wanna go bang?”
“Don’t procrastinate, Natasha. Keep working.” Smirking broadly, even as
sourness stained my tongue, I sat back in my chair, and Fred glanced up from
his notepad to frown. “You just want not to work. I’m not falling for that, you
sleaze.”
“It was worth a shot.” He snorted at me, shaking his head curtly, and I
turned to my laptop and sighed. “You’re not that hot anyway.”
“Your shot was going to miss, and you know it. I’m not gonna be your
bad habit, Natasha. How close are you to being done?” Groaning loudly, I
swayed side to side in my chair, but Fred didn’t give me the time of day. “I’ll
take that as not close at all. Why don’t you just focus on finishing, and maybe
you’ll find someone to help with finishing later.”
“There’s no fun in it if it’s not naughty.” He ignored me, and I pushed
back my chair to stand and stretch my arms high above my head. “I’m gonna
grab a snack. Want something?”
“Sure.” Wandering out of the small conference room and down the hall to
the lounge, I ran my hands up my face and through my hair. We were cutting
it down to the wire now. Our deadline to start compiling was only a week
away. February was right around the corner, and the crappy weather was
making everyone cranky. Glancing out the window at the dirty, wet snow that
piled up on either side of the road, I scrunched up my face in dismay. Every
time it snowed, it got uglier outside, and I just wanted to see some green for
the first time in months.
 Speaking of green . . .
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scrolled through my notifications to
tap Valerie’s text message. She and Carlyle were currently in Paris for
‘inspiration’ for her drawings, and I rolled my eyes at the pictures of the
Catacombs she’d sent me.
We were making a horror game, so I understood wanting to go to one of
the most creepy places on the planet. The Paris Catacombs inspired movies
and stuff, so it must have some entertainment potential. Thankfully, my sister
didn’t have to be here to work and coordinate with Fred, but that meant I was
stuck with him.
“I wish I was in Paris, damnit.” Aside from my daily walks across the
bridge, I hardly ever left our apartment just because I had nothing to do.
Grumbling to myself as I popped open the refrigerator, I frowned as I peered
inside. All the food was delivered, for security reasons, I guess, so I couldn’t
even take a trip to the grocery store. I didn’t have a car, which seemed like a
really bad move now that I was so far from the city.
I was glad Valerie was so happy and in love, but I was borderline
miserable with boredom. Fred, Marshal, and I had talked about moving out,
but we also agreed not to make any plans until after our app launched.
That wouldn’t be for a few months, at least.
“Maybe, I’ll go do something on Saturday.” Grabbing a little container of
grapes, I rocked back on my heels and frowned deeply as the door swung
shut. I couldn’t even remember the last time I went out, let alone to a party.
Actually, that might’ve been when Carlyle made that Lyft driver take us
home that time.
Shrugging lightly, I popped the top and stuck a grape in my mouth as my
mind raced through everything that’d happened since then. Who knew that
one chance meeting at a pizza place would change our lives so much? Sure,
Valerie was head over heels for Carlyle, and I was pretty much collateral
damage, but so many events had happened.
It’d been months, and Carlyle was still paying out for those gang
members. Even though he didn’t have to go that far, he did it anyway, for his
own sake, of course. I wasn’t an idiot. Valerie didn’t even know about most
of the more brutal things Carlyle had done on our behalf.
Flexing my hands around the container, I inhaled deeply as I chewed.
Valerie and I had never talked about what we did downstairs, but I was okay
with that. I never told her about who was in the other room, or the fact that
our mom was dissolved into absolutely nothing. The only part of her that
existed now was in our memories, and those would fade, maybe.
Hopefully.
I’m certainly not going to ruin that for her. Valerie was happy, safe, and
dare I say, living her best life. But what about me? My sister was pretty much
my only reason for being alive, and it’d always been like that. Now, she was
making her own way with someone else, and I was stuck here, alone and
bored out of my skull. Shaking my head roughly, I popped another grape into
my mouth and tried not to think about how dismal my life had become.
Eventually, I’d find something that made me happy. That thought was
what got me up in the morning, just like so many years ago— if I just
persevered, it’d get better.
“Natasha.” My head snapped up at the call, and surprise rose my brows
when Marshal came sauntering across the lounge with a huge smile on his
face. “Why are you grumbling to yourself? Did Fred chew you out about
procrastinating again?”
“Yeah, but that’s not why. Anyway, what’s up with you? How’d it go at
court?” He leaned against the counter to rub his palms together, and I
scanned him from top to bottom through narrowed eyes. “It went great, I
guess?”
“You guess right— Jenna got ripped to shreds. The judge ordered her to
pay me alimony, I get one of the cars, I get my apartment back, and she has to
pay me back all the utilities and rent that I paid while under the restraining
order plus thirteen thousand dollars in emotional damages.” My brows rose in
surprise at that— the lawyer Carlyle had contacted really did a great job.
Smiling as Marshal beamed in triumph, I nodded mutely, and he clapped his
palms together. “We’re still going to be married for another thirty days, but
after that, I’ll never have to see her cheating, lying self again.”
“Congratulations. How are you going to celebrate?” Marshal had initially
been so upset about his wife’s drama, but over the past months, he’d really
come to terms with it. She was a bitch, and he realized how much happier he
was without her, how much she lorded over his life, and how miserable he
was even at the height of their marriage.
Even knowing what he knew, Jenna still fought him in court, and she lost
badly.
“I actually can’t do anything right now. We’ve got a week before we have
to start compiling, and I’m behind because of this legal business.” Scrunching
up my face in distaste, I bit back a groan at the reminder, and Marshal
chuckled lightly. “We gotta do it, Natasha. We don’t really have any cushion
room. Once the app launches, I just know it’ll be a hit. We can even branch
out and do other genres. I know Fred is up for it, and it’ll be a lot easier for
you, too, because you’ll have the infrastructure already made.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just crunch time, and I hate crunch time.” My
complaining wasn’t anything Marshal hadn’t heard already, and I picked up
another grape as he pushed off the counter. “Does Fred know you’re back?”
“No. I just came in here for a drink before I head over. I’m meeting with
Kyle in a couple hours to go over all our social media information.” Shuffling
away as he strode the short distance to the fridge, I nodded as foreboding
gnawed deep into my gut. “How much do you still have to go?”
“A couple thousand lines. It’ll be fine.” Ignoring how daunting it really
was, I waved a hand in dismissal, and Marshal shot me a dubious look.
2

Natasha
My eyelids pried open, and I sucked in a sharp, deep breath as a shiver slid
down my spine. Staring dazedly at the ceiling through the gloom, a cold
sweat layered thickly on my skin, and my toes curled as I stretched my legs
experimentally. Quiet. So quiet. I listened, but there was nothing to hear, and
the stale air in my lungs escaped with a gust. The vestige of my nightmare
clung to the edges of my vision as I rolled to turn on a lamp, and the dark
bedroom flooded with a dim, gold light.
“God, I thought I was over this.” Holding my forehead in my clammy
palm, my murmur echoed in the still room, and I propped my elbow on my
knee to sigh. My heart still thundered, blood drumming in my ears, and my
abdomen and jaw ached from being clenched tight.
All that therapy wasted on the one thing I wanted most.
“What the fu-u-uck . . . ” Throwing the sheet off me, I stood up to scowl
at the wet, vague outline of a person who stained the fitted, silky material.
Rubbing my eyes roughly, I rolled my jaw and stretched, but it did nothing to
ease the tension balled up in my lower back. Rather than deal with this, I just
walked out in my sticky pajama shorts and a crop top, and my knees wobbled
on the way to the kitchen.
Maybe, it’s because Valerie wasn’t sleeping in the other room, so I didn’t
have to worry about her hearing me anymore. Maybe, it was because she was
doing so well, and it was a huge weight off me that kept everything else
down.
Passing the kitchen, I opened the front door and stepped into the hallway
to stare at the neutral walls and feel the overrun carpet under my feet. My hair
stuck to my neck and shoulders, but I couldn’t summon the energy to peel it
back as I shuffled forward. At night, these halls were just as lifeless— only
Carlyle and his personal staff lived here, and most of his workers commuted.
Managing to walk halfway to the elevator, I realized that I had nowhere
to go, and I leaned on the wall to slide down to my butt. Pulling my knees to
my chin, I wrapped my arms around myself and closed my eyes to heave a
massive sigh. My brain didn’t work to try to think up a distraction, but it
didn’t conjure images I’d rather not focus on, either.
Which was okay, I suppose.
I mean, what could I think of any way? I had no friends, my sister was in
love, and I hated my job . . . not that I’d ever tell Valerie. She was the one
with the talent, so I had to find something to do that could support her.
Everyone knew that those with talent rarely struck it big right out of the gate,
and coding was good money.
At least I was good enough at it not to get saddled with student loan debt.
The whole point of convincing Valerie to go to a different college was so she
didn’t find out how much I despised coding. Even though I didn’t struggle
with it, there were so many other things I wanted to do, but I couldn’t
because she was the artist, and she was more important.
Even so, I didn’t know what any of those ‘other things’ were anymore.
“Natasha?” Groaning at the interruption, I frowned up at Illya as she
crouched in front of me, her pretty face a mask of concern. “You okay?”
“I kinda wanna die, but . . . whatever.” If she thought I sounded
impudent, Illya’s dark green eyes didn’t betray her, and she sat down next to
me as I huffed. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“We don’t have to talk about it . . . whatever ‘it’ is. I was actually on my
way out to the store. Sometimes, I can’t stand being cooped up in this place.”
Humming softly, goosebumps washed my arms, and I tightened my grip on
myself as bitterness coated my tongue. “Did you wanna come with? I like to
drive really fast, though.”
“What time is it?” She pulled out a cell phone from her shirt, and I
winced when Illya read the time. Two-fourteen a.m. There was absolutely no
point in trying to go back to sleep. I had to get to the conference room by
seven, and . . . “Yeah, I’ll come with. Why not.”
“You wanna get dressed, or . . . I mean, it’s like ten degrees out.” Shaking
my head, I hauled myself up to stand and glanced down at myself. I looked
like I’d just detoxed off something bad, but I honestly didn’t care at that
moment. After all, the only stores open at two a.m. were friggen Walmart and
CVS— hardly anything to get dressed up for. “Okay. Do you wanna at least
put some shoes on?”
“I guess I should.” But did I really wanna go all the way back down the
hall, into my apartment, and grab my boots by the door? Standing up, Illya
watched me patiently as I gazed down the way I’d come, and it was
exhausting just thinking about it. “You know, Illya, we got drunk together a
couple times, right? So, basically . . . I think I’m moving backward again.”
“Okay.” That was some right logic there, and Illya nodded as I started to
slowly drag my feet toward my apartment. “What happened?”
“I know I’m not supposed to, but . . . like, Valerie’s happy, and I hate it. I
hate my job. I hate this place. I hate working. I just wanna curl into a ball in a
hole and wither away.” Guilt clawed at the back of my throat, and my eyes
stung at the veracity of my own declarations. “God damnit, I hate that I hate
this shit. I have nothing anymore, and finding something is so . . . so . . . so
daunting.”
“Weren’t you gonna open an Airbnb with those properties? So, it’s not
like you have to work on that app or whatever it was.” Groaning in
frustration, I ran my palms down my face and stumbled under the weight of it
all.
“I did. That’s not the problem. I told them I would, and now I don’t want
to. It seemed like the only damn choice at the time— we were all jobless, and
yada-yada, bullshit, whatever.” My voice lowered as I struggled to walk and
talk at the same time, and my whisper filled the hallway. “I can’t just back
out now. That’s not fair.”
“Ah, yeah, that sucks. Valerie’s not supposed to be back for another
week. I just talked to Theo about an hour ago. He was scowling . . . I could
tell.” Illya’s voice shone with her smile and knowing Theo had no other
facial expression, I sort of understood. With that scar on his face, it wasn’t
surprising, and I glanced over at her warily. “We should go get something
greasy.”
My door was unlocked, and I pushed it open to stuff my feet in my boots
without replying. If I ate something, I was pretty sure I’d throw up. Going out
with Illya wasn’t going to stop the blackness eating away at the edges of my
mind. Glancing past the corner of the short hallway, I frowned at the
silhouettes of furniture and slight glimmer of shiny surfaces.
None of this stuff was mine. I didn’t even have anything but my clothes.
While it wasn’t necessarily Carlyle’s fault that Valerie got sent a fucking
bomb . . .
“I don’t know. I feel terrible for being so unhappy, and that makes me
more unhappy, and . . . ” Shutting the door behind me, I scuffed my heel
against the carpet as I ran out of words to describe how I was feeling. Valerie
was my whole life, and I didn’t know what to do with myself now that she
didn’t need me as much. Honestly, it was pathetic, but there were only so
many ways to describe this bitterness and guilt. “I thought it’d be great, but
it’s not. Not for me, at least.”
“Why don’t you move out?” A harsh bark of laughter burst from me,
humorless and scratchy, and I frowned darkly. Illya was really understanding,
maybe because she went through something of the same? I didn’t know, and I
wasn’t going to ask. “It’s not so scary to move on once you start, you know.”
“I don’t. It’s always been Val and me, Nat and Val, Val and Nat . . . for
twenty-five years. How am I supposed to make that change? I mean, sure, I
don’t want Valerie and I to be like this, but we are. At least, I am.” Sniffling a
shallow breath as we walked toward the elevator, I crossed my arms under
my bust to huff sharply. “And I am happy for her— I’m just not happy for
me, and that’s the suckiest feeling. Like, what, am I supposed to be a third
wheel forever? I’ve never been on a date. I had friends in college, but those
didn’t last because I partied really hard. Besides, Valerie’s the talented one.
Even if I was better than average at something, I wouldn’t know what it is.”
Illya punched the button on the wall, and I leaned against the warm
surface to close my eyes and flop my head back. She didn’t reply
immediately, but I didn’t really care. I was just venting, and in the morning,
I’d feel better.
It was the damn nightmares that got me. They started a few weeks ago
and got steadily worse and more frequent.
“Well, I’ll be your friend, Natasha.” Cracking open an eye, I pursed my
lips thinly when Illya held out a hand, and the makings of a grin crested her
cheeks. Reaching out slowly, I took her fingers in mine, and her soft palm
sent tingles and goosebumps up my arm. “I hope you like going really fast.”
3

Natasha
Gripping the handle above my window, I laughed a little hysterically as Illya
sped down plowed, dry, completely empty streets. The tires squealed when
she barely slowed to take a turn, but she didn’t lose control of the car. Pop
music blasted from the speakers, and I swayed and wiggled to the beat as it
poured out of the open windows.
She drove so fast that my nightmares were left far behind, and I sat up a
little as I rolled my shoulders to the music. Puffing out my lips, I couldn’t
wipe the smile off my face even then, and I arched against the heated seat.
“ ♪It ain’t about the money, money, money.♪” Raising my arm as I sang
along, I swerved my head, and Illya giggled as a gust of wind blasted me in
the face. The frigid breeze dried the sweat on my skin, and the heat against
my back clashed as it struggled to encompass me entirely. If this car was a
convertible, I’d be in Heaven, but I knew that was asking too much.
Honestly, it was shocking Illya was allowed to drive at all. She was a
maniac behind the wheel, and I really, truly understood why Theo didn’t let
her drive his car.
But Theo and Carlyle weren’t here, so . . .
Adrenaline surged through me, and I curled my toes in my boots as Illya
reached to turn down the music. The huge sign for CVS came up on us
almost before I noticed it, and she burned out into the parking lot. Cackling
under the screeching protect of the tires, I jostled around to the sway of the
vehicle, and she came to an abrupt stop to double park between two spaces.
“That was awesome. You’re a really good driver.” Rolling up the
windows, Illya blushed at my breathless praise, and I tapped the dash as
tingles numbed my fingers. “I’ll go for a drive with you any day, Illya.”
“See, just because I like going fast doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m
doing, okay. Tell that to Theo.” She paused to climb out of the car, and I
followed suit to hop from foot to foot just to release some energy. Who knew
going zero to fifty-five in a fraction of a second would feel so liberating? “I
used to drag race when I was a teenager. Did you know that, Natasha? We’d
go out to this mudflat and race trucks. It was so much fun.”
 “That sounds like fun.” Walking into the store, the shift from cold air to
warm prickled up my spine, and everything just . . . stopped. Pausing mid-
step, I stared down at the overused carpet through blown pupils, and blood
drummed loudly in my ears. My chest tightened to squeeze my heart, and a
ringing sounded beyond its furious beating.
Fishing out the few crumpled bills in my pocket, I straightened and ironed
them between my palms, and Valerie wandered off toward the refrigerated
section without me. She was talking on and on about school, but, like, we
were in the same class, so I knew all this already? Carefully counting the
small bills, I ground my teeth as dread gnawed at my gut.
“I’m gonna have to go back.” We weren’t going to make it to the first of
the next month. Glancing up at Valerie’s back, my jaw ached from how hard
I clenched my teeth. Our birthday was on the first, and God only knew Mom
wasn’t going to remember or do anything.
Birthdays were expensive, though. I didn’t have twenty dollars to spare,
unless . . .
“—asha . . . ” Blinking hard, I sucked in a sharp breath and hissed an
exhale, and I clenched my hands into tight fists by my sides. Illya’s
concerned, cautious eyes locked on mine, but all of her was a blur, and I
frowned under furrowed brows. She had green hair right now— I hadn’t even
noticed that until now— and I could feel her staring at me. “Natasha? Are
you okay?”
“I forgot my wallet. I’m gonna have to go back.”
“Hey, hey, hey . . . ” Was it something I said? Illya grabbed my hand,
stuttering quickly, and I tensed as her wary expression came into focus. “I’m
paying, remember?”
“Where’d you get money? Who gave it to you?” I watched myself grab
Illya’s cheeks, and she went wide-eyed as her brows wiggled in uncertainty.
“I told you not to take money from them. Why can’t you just listen for once?
I told you never ever. They’re not nice guys. No one is nice for no reason.”
“Natasha, it’s me, Illya.” When I blinked, she was right in front of me,
and I released her face to frown ugly when she rubbed my arms. “It’s okay.
Let’s go somewhere else.”
“We’re already here.” Anxiety gnawed at my gut, but Illya didn’t ask me
any questions even though I could see them play behind her eyes. Ducking
my head, I side-stepped around her and walked down the makeup aisle just
because it was close. This can’t be happening again.
 This was a pretty large CVS, and I walked around searching for the
NyQuil, ZzzQuil, or Extra Strength Tylenol Nighttime Relief, or even a huge
bottle of melatonin. Everything moved around me, and I reached to scratch
my scalp when all I wanted to do was just bang my head on a really hard
surface. My hands shook, my eyes achy and teary, and I wheezed rasping
breaths as my boots scraped against the carpet.
“I’m just having a bad night. It’ll be okay.” But, even to me, my own
voice sounded so unconvincing that it roiled my stomach, and I sat on the
floor before my knees gave out on me. Burying my hands in my matted,
sweat-hardened hair, I struggled to breathe as I rocked back and forth,
squeezing my eyes shut in a futile attempt to concentrate. “I’m fine. I’m
okay. It’ll be fine.”
Life was a huge shit pile where the occasional flower somehow sprouted,
but even then, it eventually died from all the toxic waste around it. When
things seemed to be going so well, something had to go wrong— that was the
law of the universe.
“I just have to keep going.” My voice shook with uncertainty, and I
shuttered my lids tighter until blacker than black spots assaulted their backs.
Just keep trudging on. Just deal with it and move on.
“Excuse me, miss?” Glancing up from under damp lashes, I tensed as a
cop in full winter gear crouched next to me. “Everything alright?”
His deep voice wrapped around me like a snake ready to strangle its prey,
and my throat tightened with dread. My mouth dried, and my tongue stuck to
the roof even as I struggled a shallow breath in preparation.
“I’m not on any drugs or drunk or anything. I’m just having a really bad
night.” Sharp, light brown eyes captured mine, and I didn’t look away before
he nodded cautiously. For a second, I almost thought he’d take my word on it
and leave me alone, but he sat down to cross his legs instead. “What? I . . . I
just need a second, and then I’ll buy something and leave.”
“You’re sitting on a dirty floor in almost no clothes. It’s fourteen degrees
outside. Do you have somewhere to go?” Wow! That question hit me square
in the face, and the blood drained from my cheeks as my mind got stuck on it.
Did I have a place to go? I mean, I didn’t have my own apartment anymore. I
was essentially having a really extravagant couch surfing bout, and I was
living off my sister’s rich-ass boyfriend.
This was worse than living in Dallas in some ways.
“I’m not homeless in the literal sense, I guess.” Mumbling against my
knees, I tore my eyes off his to glance at his name tag poking out of his
collar. “I have somewhere to go, Officer Peterson. I just don’t want to be
there right now.”
“Why not?” Wasn’t that the question of the damn day . . . or night . . .
whatever. The specifics didn’t matter. Scrunching up my nose, I shook my
head dumbly, and he leaned back a little before taking off his hat. He had no
hair at all, and I noticed his nice, trimmed goatee had some greys as well
before he spoke up again. “My name’s Erik. What’s yours?”
“Natasha.” Reaching to rub my eyes with my fists, I heaved a massive
sigh as Erik nodded with a hum of acknowledgment. “I guess the night guy
called about my episode by the door. I thought I was over all that. I didn’t
mean to make a scene.”
“I was already here. You don’t think we’d respond to a call this fast so far
from downtown.” Chuffing a humorless, quiet laugh at that, I shook my head,
and he glanced down either end of the aisle. “Between you and me, the
graveyard workers don’t care as long as you’re not doing anything illegal to
them. So, if you’re not drunk or on drugs, and you’re just having a really bad
night, and you’re not doing anything illegal, Natasha.”
“You should be a detective.” My lip quirked up, and I rubbed my cheeks
with my palms before I saw Illya hanging around the end cap. “I should go
apologize.”
Twisting to catch sight of her, Erik stood up and held out his gloved hand,
and I let him help me up. Even that bad joke made me feel a little better, and I
rolled my jaw as he unzipped and shook off his jacket to place it gingerly on
my shoulders.
“Have a safe night.” Erik had another jacket underneath the thick, rain-
proof, insulated coat, and I rolled my lips between my teeth as he turned and
strolled off. The thick muscles roping his back played when he adjusted his
gloves up his wrists, and Illya scurried over to me to shoot me a wild look.
Holding the jacket closed to keep the warmth in, I didn’t know what to say,
or if there was even anything to say. I just need to go to sleep. That’s what I
need to do. Then, this rollercoaster of a night will be over.
4

Erik
“I’m still not sure this was a good idea, Remmy.” Sitting in the passenger
seat, I watched Natasha and her friend peel out of the parking lot, but Remmy
didn’t try to go after them. Gut rot ate away at me, and I couldn’t get her
troubled expression out of my head or keep it from flashing behind my eyes
when I blinked. Whatever fucked up shit was going on, I was positive just
from our short talk that it had nothing at all to do with Carlyle Santino or the
Syndicate.
“It’ll be fine. She’s the sister of the girl he’s dating, and they’re twins.
There’s no way they don’t talk.” Okay, revise that last statement. I’m
completely convinced this is a horrible idea. We weren’t going to have any
information on either girl any time soon, so a few photographs were all we
had to base our assumptions on. Fiddling with his receiver, Remmy frowned
out of the corner of my eye. “He’s the biggest, baddest criminal on the planet,
Erik. Do you know what it would mean for us if we helped bring him down?”
“He’s supposedly the biggest, baddest criminal, Remmy. We have
nothing on him at all except vague, circumstantial coincidence.” The receiver
gave a faint click, and Remmy finally tore his eyes off the device to frown at
me.
“Which is why we put a bug in your jacket- to get proof.” Sourness
coated my tongue, and Remmy’s frown deepened under furrowed brows
when it spread across my expression. “You and I both know that bomb and
Carlyle dating the sister isn’t a coincidence, Erik. We got assigned to this, so
there’s no need to worry about it.”
Before I could answer, the receiver started to crackle, and I twisted in my
seat to listen rather than hear Remmy try to justify what I’d just done.
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier, Illya.” The low, genuinely apologizing
voice sounded so sad, and I pursed my lips thinly as recent memories flashed
in my mind’s eye. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No. That’s kinda the great thing about it. I can’t really feel pain
anywhere else anymore. Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha didn’t reply,
and I sat back to rub my face in exasperation. This was wrong. This was not
okay. This wasn’t what I became a cop to do . . . spy on a girl that was clearly
going through some shit. Inhaling deeply, I held my breath for a long second
before blustering a sigh and shaking my head hard.
“If he finds that bug, she’s going to get killed, twin sister or not.” Remmy
ignored my grumble, rubbing his bald head absently, and my lip curled in a
faint snarl. “Rem—”
“I don’t blame you, Natasha. That kind of thing, you can’t control it.
Especially with everything that happened with your mom . . . you’re not a
robot. You can’t just forget it even though that person is dead.”
“No offense, Illya, but I really, really don’t wanna talk about my mom.
It’s not about her, anyway. It’s about Valerie. It’s always been about
Valerie.” The receiver recorded up to ten hours before deleting itself and
recording another ten. Every conversation was saved in a file by an auto-
write program. There was literally nothing else to do but listen. Technically
speaking, we didn’t even have to do that because someone could just read
what had been backed up, and everything was time-stamped.
Man, technology was amazing even if the people using it weren’t.
“I’m off shift, Remmy, and I’m ready to go the Hell home and try not to
feel like shit about this. I came out here because you got the call they were
moving, but it’s my one day off tomorrow. I need to catch up on my sleep.” I
had a feeling Remmy was going to spiral out of control with this case, and I
glanced over at him warily. He was on the verge of retirement and had never
done anything incredible. Despite being a detective himself, he watched too
many damn cop shows, and he passed me the receiver to turn the car on.
“Let’s go inside. I used to come here on Saturday nights right before
going home. Man, it’s been months.” Propping my elbow on the window to
hold my cheek on my fist, I glanced out into the darkness and tried to stop my
stomach roiling. “That cop was nice. I think it got colder.”
“He had biceps bigger than my head.” A smattering of laughter filled the
car, and I tensed as realization slammed into me— I was going to have to
listen to them talk about me. “At least you feel a bit better, right? Sometimes,
all it takes is a little spark of kindness. Strangers are good for that when you
feel like everyone else is pushing you away.”
“Yeah. I do feel better. This is a real nice jacket. Do you think he’ll get in
trouble for giving it to me?” Tapping my temple absently, I viciously beat
down the warmth in my chest at the appreciation that glowed in Natasha’s
tone. Knowing it’d been a sham threatened to make me sick, and Remmy’s
shitty driving didn’t help. He took a turn toward the suburbs, skirting the
direct route through the city center, and I clenched my jaw loosely. “So, what
do you think is gonna happen in Dallas? You saw it all on the news, right?”
“Who gives a shit about Dallas? It’s one less gang and a bad one at that.
In San Diego, there were plenty of wannabes. I just wonder why the other
gangs tolerated them for so long. I mean, it’s not like Baron Ninety-Nine is,
like, the Sinaloa Cartel or anything.” My brows furrowed in concentration,
and I made a mental note to check more deeply into the situation. Of course,
Dallas wasn’t the only city under siege right now, and the killings there were
regular and not seeming to slow down any time soon.
“I guess we got lucky.” A distinct lilt in Natasha’s voice scraped my
eardrums, and my eyelids fluttered closed as I focused on breathing. “Valerie
never knew. She still doesn’t know. I know it doesn’t make a difference— it’ll
only make her feel bad. That’s why I think it’s getting worse, Illya— because
she’s not around as much.”
“Are you gonna tell her? Like that bomb was addressed to her because
they didn’t want you anymore, she doesn’t know that?” Natasha must’ve
simply shaken her head by the rustling through the receiver, and a heavy sigh
flooded the car. “You protect her too much and ignore yourself. What
happens when the lies start to catch up to you, huh?”
“They’re talking about some pretty heavy shit.” Rolling my eyes at
Remmy’s observation, I tightened my grip on the small, square box and
cracked my lids open. Glancing over, the lights on the dash illuminated his
stress wrinkles and predominantly grey hair, and he casually turned onto my
street to slow to a crawl. “I wonder what it’s about.”
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound like it has anything to do with Carlyle or
the Syndicate. There’s no guarantee these girls even know who he is. There’s
no guarantee that anything we know about him is even factual.” The dude
was fucking loaded to Hell and back, and there was no way any single person
was squeaky clean. Just because the girlfriend got a bomb delivered to her
apartment didn’t mean it had anything to do with Carlyle. Sure, she was more
accessible, but they’d only been dating a few weeks when that happened.
Then again, he was really quick to get everyone wrapped up and gone,
and by the time we went back, the whole apartment had been cleaned out.
There wasn’t even blast residue— it’d all been cleaned or taken away. The
floors and walls had been redone. The manager of the place was paid off.
But being obscenely wealthy didn’t mean any of that meant he was trying
to hide something.
Even if Carlyle was hiding something, that didn’t mean it was illegal,
either. We were legitimately grasping at straws on a few coincidences.
“You’ve never been on a date, right? You should ask that guy out if you
see him again. No one is safer than a cop, Natasha.” The hairs on my arms
and face stood up at the sudden interruption to my thoughts, and Remmy
barked out a laugh. Smacking the wheel with the butt of his palm, he came to
a smooth stop on the curb in front of my house.
“No one is more dangerous, either, Illya.”
“You take that and let me know what freaky shit they talk about you,
Erik.” Scowling darkly, I almost left the two-inch by two-inch contraption in
the car, but there was a lot that text couldn’t convey. Popping open the door, I
stepped out, and Remmy didn’t wait for me to get on the sidewalk before
peeling off into the night. Watching his headlights dim before disappearing, I
rubbed my jaw and neck furiously and inhaled a frigid breath.
“Well, even if you don’t, you have his coat now. And it’s a really, really
nice coat.”
“Jesus Christ.” I didn’t become a cop to do this, and I glanced down at the
object in my hand with disgust. “I’m gonna fucking quit by the time we even
have a faint chance of finding out what’s going on inside the Syndicate.”
Trudging to my front door, I pulled my keys off my belt loop, and my
scowl darkened. Just because the rash of executions of members started after
that bomb didn’t mean Carlyle was involved. Maybe he just knew a guy and
complained during a bro’s night. Maybe, those two girls were connected with
someone else, and we just hadn’t dug deep enough. God only knew that all of
our requests were taking forever to process, and then it’d be a couple more
months before they even got glanced at.
This was bad. This was really, really bad.
5

Natasha
“Yes-s-s!” Popping up to dance around my chair, I punched the air and
hummed a tune to myself. Fred and Marshal paused what they were doing,
and I turned my laptop around to show off the screen. “I finally finished. It’s
done. I mean, it’s far from done, but the infrastructure is there.”
“See what happens when you actually try to work instead of trying to
procrastinate, Nat?” Sticking my tongue out at Fred, I braced my palms on
both sides of my laptop, and his eyes narrowed on me. “You can’t leave yet.”
“Fred, come on! Let’s go get some pizza. I promise to keep working
when we get back.” Puffing out my lips, I grinned broadly when Marshal
quickly agreed with me, and Fred defeatedly lifted his arm to check the time.
“Besides, Valerie’s coming back tonight, and I may have finished the base,
but I have to integrate her pictures and stuff, and she needs to be brought up
to speed about the meeting we had, and—”
“Okay! Fine. We’ll go get some pizza.” Fist bumping the air, I pranced
around my chair toward the door, and the guys rustled around me to follow.
“You’re not gonna regret this.”
“Tell that to my work ethic.” Smiling broadly, I glanced over my
shoulder as I pulled open the conference room door, and Fred rubbed both his
hands on his face roughly. “I guess it wouldn’t be bad to go out, though.
Working too much is bad.”
“You know, you may be onto something there, Fred.” Marshal clapped a
hand on Fred’s shoulder, and excitement nibbled away at my gut. “I’m
honestly tired of eating stuff I have to make myself. I suck ass at making
anything more complicated than a grilled cheese.”
“Whatever. Just because I agree with you doesn’t mean I agree with you.
We’re a little more behind than I’d like.” We walked toward the elevator
leisurely, my spirits high, and I ran my hand through my hair as relief pushed
a sigh from my lips. Finally, Fred would relent a little and give me a break.
Although, it wasn’t really Fred’s permission I needed. It was my own
because I’d been using work to bury the fact that I fucked up. Rolling my lips
between my face, shame flushed my face as memories played behind my
eyes, and I tugged my jacket tighter around me.
Valerie was coming back, but that also meant Carlyle would be back . . .
and he knew about the jacket. The microphone in the collar lit up the metal
detector, and if I hadn’t tried to wear it across the bridge, I would’ve never
known. Jerry took it and put it in a box, but he didn’t do anything else on
Carlyle’s orders.
Worse than that . . . I was stupid for thinking Erik was just a nice cop.
Even he, who I didn’t know at all, tried to use me.
Just like in Dallas.
Goosebumps blanketed my arms and across my chest under my sweater,
and I frowned under deeply-knit brows. I’d made it a point to never talk
about anything involving Carlyle to anyone, even other employees, and I was
glad I had, but . . . what was he going to do about the lapse in security?
Would he kick me out?
That’d just make Valerie and I fling farther apart.
I mean, how did Erik and whoever else was behind the jacket think that
their plan would really work? Ignorance didn’t breed innocence, and I was
just plain stupid.
“Hey, guys?” Once in the quiet of the elevator, I glanced over at Marshal
and Fred and cleared my throat roughly. “When Carlyle gets back, I may
need to find a new job. I’m gonna ask him to set you up with a better
programmer than me.”
“Natasha, he’s not gonna kick you out. I heard Jerry talking to him about
it when I went by yesterday. You’re also not the only person in trouble right
now, according to the maids. Just sit down and have a serious conversation
about it when he gets back.” The elevator stopped when Marshal went quiet,
but I wasn’t convinced in the slightest. I knew Carlyle would try to reinforce
himself in some way— he made Illya rip off her own toenails, for fuck’s
sake! He personally killed at least ten people that I knew of, not including all
those gang members in Dallas or . . . the ones in the basement.
Not that they lasted long.
“If I do, I’m okay with it.” Shaking my head as I stepped off the metal
box, I stuffed my hands in my coat pocket and felt for my keys and wallet.
“That’s all.”
“If you do, you have your Airbnb’s, right? And they’re a lot, you said.
You don’t necessarily have to get a new job. You can just live off that.
Maybe, get a hobby? You’re a great cook. You can always take cooking
classes and stuff.” Fred’s suggestions earned a faint hum from me, and I
flopped my head back to sigh heavily. I loved to cook, but what good was
any food I made if no one was around to eat it?
“Natasha! Hey, wait up a second.” Twisting as Jerry came striding down
behind us from a different hallway, I frowned as nerves tingled my fingertips.
He held Erik’s bugged jacket over his arm, and prickles raced down my
spine. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second? Just really quick.”
“Yeah.” He smiled reassuringly, and I wrung my fingers as Fred and
Marshal shuffled a few feet away just to stand around and eavesdrop. “If it’s
about the jacket, I’m not gon—"
“Well, it kinda is. Actually, it was Carlyle’s suggestion. He says you can
keep it if you want to get a little revenge somehow.” My eyebrows nearly
flew off my face at that, and Jerry slipped his hands into his jean pockets to
duck his head suggestively. “I know a tiny bit of what you’ve been through. I
told him I’d take the blame because it got through the front doors, and it
wasn’t supposed to. I don’t understand, and maybe that’s a good thing, but I
figured since we knew about the bug, and you’re pretty trustworthy, that you
might wanna mess with the guy a bit.”
“I . . . I don’t get how I’m supposed to mess with the guy. What am I
gonna do? Fuck a guy on the jacket? Um, no.” Jerry shrugged, not the least
bit affected by my question, and I frowned when he handed me the
previously incarcerated jacket. “Thanks, Jerry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Carlyle thought the police might get stupid about the
bomb, so he prepared for something like this. Even though it wasn’t
connected to Carlyle, the timing was just all messed up, and there was no real
escalation. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know, Natasha. You can press
this button here to turn it on and off.” Nodding as Jerry slunk off the short
distance to disappear around the corner, I exhaled a shaky breath as my heart
thundered against my ribs.
Revenge. I got my revenge. I didn’t want to get dragged down that dark,
mucky road again.
Inhaling deeply through flared nostrils, my sternum popped from the
sudden pressure, and I rolled my shoulders and straightened myself. I’d
worry about it later. Right now, I was going to celebrate the fact that I
finished those stupid program bones. Whirling around, I nodded more to
myself than Fred or Marshal, and they kept their curiosity above their noses.
“Um, let’s go. I’m starving for something cheesy and greasy.” Pulling the
thick, industrial jacket over my shoulders, I fingered the button installed in
the collar absently. “I’m gonna turn it on, though, so no more talking about
Carlyle.”
“Fine with me—” Holding up a finger to my lips, I pressed down to hear
a faint click, and Fred scrunched up his face in the ominous silence.
“Anyway, the important thing is you got the infrastructure done. Okay, we
can slack a little until Valerie gets back, but then it’s all hands, Natasha.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you said that already.” Pushing open the door, I
gasped as the wind bit at my cheeks instantly, and I zipped up the jacket to
pull my arms in. Even with two coats, a sweater, and a long sleeve shirt, it
was frigid— it was too damn cold even to snow. Glancing around the lot, I
started toward Marshal’s car, and his key’s jingle rode the harsh breeze.
“We should go to Buckley’s. It’s been a long, long time, and we used to
go there every day.”
6

Erik
“I’m telling you, Remmy, this isn’t right. It’s been a week of dead silence,
and suddenly it starts up again? Even if she just threw it in the back of her
closet, that microphone should’ve still picked things up.” Irritation simmered
in my blood, and it only intensified when Remmy cast me a disapproving
frown like I saw only what I wanted to see. “I guarantee you that they found
it. I fucking guarantee it. And I’m done with your glory crusade. This whole
thing was a failure from the beginning.”
“Erik, we’ll at least go inside and assess whether or not she knows. If she
doesn’t, you need to un-bunch your panties. If she does, I’ll admit defeat.”
You’re a fucking cop, you asshole. You’re not supposed to be persecuting
people who don’t deserve it, let alone failing miserably at it. Scowling darkly
as I popped open the door, I shook my head roughly as I stalked to the
sidewalk. The bitterly cold chill seeped through my original, issued coat, and
I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets to hide my fists.
Shouldering open the glass door to Buckley’s Pizza Parlor, I headed for
the takeaway counter, and the teenager behind it smiled brightly at me.
“Hey, yeah, can I get two slices of pepperoni, one sausage, and two
bottles of water.” Fishing my wallet out, I handed her a ten-dollar bill, and I
rocked back on my heels to scan the restaurant. Natasha and her two co-
workers were in a booth against the back of the place, and I held my breath
and pursed my lips in apprehension. She looked like an entirely different
person when she was clothed, her hair and makeup done lightly. Big, brown
eyes met mine above the heads of seated patrons, and I offered a wave before
a metallic clink stole my attention.
Guilt clawed at my throat, and my appetite fled as my gut rotted with the
knowledge of what I’d done. Folding the two dollars I’d gotten back in
change, I tensed at the soft, long fingers wrapping around my elbow, and
Natasha rubbed up against my side. Her curves muffled by the layers and
layers of clothes we both wore, and I glanced over as she looked up at me
from under thick lashes.
The second I met her eyes, I knew she knew, and I clenched my jaw hard
as my eyelid twitched in agitation.
“I hope you’re committed, Erik.” Natasha reached to tap my chest with an
unadorned nail, and I frowned at the darkness that flashed in her eyes.
“Why’d you do it? Oh, wait . . . you were probably ordered to, right? Because
the bomb has to be connected to Carlyle. It’s not like we’re capable of having
demons chasing us.”
“Natasha—” My attempt to speak earned me a frown, and I scratched my
neck with my free hand as I struggled to think of something to say. “I’m
sorry.”
“Cool. Do you wanna know a secret?” My stubble bristled when she
lifted herself onto her toes, her nonchalance turning icy, and my eyelids
fluttered as her warm breath rolled down my collar. “I killed my mom. You
can arrest me now, but you’ll just have to let me go because you’ll never get
any evidence. Or . . . you can listen in, and I’ll tell you the story of ‘why.’ It’s
up to you. You wanted this, Erik.”
“Natasha—” She held a slender finger to my lips when I turned to her
fully, and my eyes widened in shock when she reached up to press a button
where the bug should’ve been. Does that mean nothing she just said was
recorded?
“It’s up to you.” All I could do was stand there, frozen, as Natasha
sauntered off back to her table, and I blinked hard. Did that really just
happen? She admitted to murder, but no one else could have heard her, and
the fucking microphone had a brand-spankin’-new on/off switch. Turning
back to the counter slowly, I gazed dazedly at the edge as my brain worked a
mile a minute.
That was why the bug went dead for a week— they found it almost
immediately, and they devised a plan to fucking toy with us.
“Officer—” Snapping out of my daze, I grabbed the box and both waters,
and I shot Natasha one final look before heading out. She didn’t look
satisfied. Now that she wasn’t so far, I could see how . . . how sad and alone
and distanced she was from her coworkers. The way she moved and smiled
was robotic, and I pursed my lips thinly as self-disgust threatened to spew
from my mouth.
“So? Does she know?” Closing myself in Remmy’s car, I sat back and
handed him his water before popping open the box. What did I tell him? If he
knew we were busted, the bug would be deactivated, and I’d never know
Natasha’s story. Picking up a slice of pepperoni, I sat back a little and
glanced out the window as cars zipped past, kicking up salt dust in their
wake.
To anyone looking, Natasha would’ve just been flirting heavily with me,
and there was absolutely no way to prove differently. The bug was off, the
people around us not paying attention, and any security cameras wouldn’t
show anything of note. I had no choice but to play this out.
“No, I don’t think she does.” Glancing at my phone to read the time, I
took a bite of my slice before gesturing out the windshield. “I’m off shift in
fifteen. You mind dropping me at home?”
“Sure. I’m gonna go back and let the Captain know we’re good. You
worry too much, Erik.” Frowning as I swallowed harshly, the pizza was ash
in my mouth, and I grabbed a napkin from the cupholder to hide my
displeasure. “I bet being a police officer isn’t nearly as exciting as being a
SEAL. Granted, there’s a lot more cop shows than SEAL shows.”
“You’d know, wouldn’t you, Remmy. To be honest, I didn’t want to be a
cop, but it seemed like the route to go considering my background. I can’t
just sit at a desk forever.” My confession earned me a gruff sound, and
Remmy snatched the other pepperoni slice with a hard sniff.
“Cops who want to be cops don’t stay cops for long, Erik. In a city like
this, everything’s corrupted because of Carlyle Santino. Even our bosses
bend under his weight.” Remmy spoke with such disdain, and I knew it was
because he’d been passed over for promotions before. Even I knew he had a
grudge against the top brass for ignoring him— it was all I heard when I was
told he was my partner. On the verge of retirement, he was still basically a
meter maid, and he hated it.
“I doubt that’s true for most officers, Remmy. You’re just a crusty, old
bastard.” He grumbled loudly, but I didn’t care to decipher what he said.
“Why’d you become a cop, anyway?”
“It was the Eighties, and I was young and stupid.” Man, I just wanted to
go home and sleep, and I let the conversation die as my thoughts overran my
attention. Working a job I didn’t like was bad enough, but nothing happened
in this city. We were close to Connecticut, but too far for the nasty tendrils of
Bridgeport and New York City to reach us. I’d signed up for the Academy
right after being discharged, and I knew now that that was a hasty, ill-
prepared plan to keep me where I was comfortable.
But spying— and badly— on a girl over something we had no proof of
didn’t sit well with me. This sinking feeling in my gut that had been growing
more intense as the week went out had been justified. Natasha knew about
the bug, but more than that— I couldn’t shake the notion that she was
personally hurt by what I’d done.
Her face before I left certainly told me that she had more bad days than
good. How could someone like that be involved in a world-wide criminal
ring, and if she was… what the fuck was I doing trying to stop it? There were
agencies dedicated to this kind of thing, and some small-town rookie and an
old geezer with no resources couldn’t make a difference.
I’d agreed with this shit because I needed something definitive to quit. I
needed a real reason other than just being dissatisfied with how little action I
got.
Natasha got dragged in by no fault of her own, all because her sister was
dating someone rich and powerful. What if she was just playing with me
about killing her mother? What if she had nothing to do with anything, and
Carlyle was as clean as money could buy?
“It’s up to you.” The way Natasha said it was almost like a dare, and I set
my half-eaten slice in the box to pop open the door.
“I’ll be right back.”
Remmy grunted in acknowledgment, and I headed back into the pizza
place. The wind nipped at my cheeks, and the door handle burned my palm
before the heat inside blasted me in the face. This winter hadn’t produced a
lot of snow, but damn was it cold. Weaving through tables, I headed straight
to Natasha’s booth, and her slender brows rose in surprise as she sipped her
soda. “Can I speak with you a moment? In private.”
“I’m gonna go . . . somewhere else.” One man slid out of the booth, and
the other was quick to follow. Natasha was quiet, staring intently, and I sat
down to take a stabilizing breath.
“I don’t want to listen in. I want you to tell me straight. Did that bomb
have anything to do with Carlyle?” Posing my question as directly as I could,
I clenched my jaw when Natasha barked a hard laugh. Her face reddened,
eyes flaring as she set down her cup hard, and soda sloshed over the rim and
onto the table. I felt eyes on me, but I didn’t take mine off her as I held my
breath, and my heart beat a little faster. Slowly, the color drained from her
cheeks, and she gazed back at me with the smallest, saddest smile I’d ever
seen.
“No . . . it didn’t. But it’s really nice, you know. Erik, do you know why I
was at CVS last week at two a.m. in my pajamas, freaking out?” I silently
shook my head, apprehension threading my veins, and Natasha clasped her
hands together to rest her chin on her fingers. “I had a nightmare of when I
was thirteen, and my mom pimped me out for drugs. So, sorry to disappoint
you.”
The heat drained from my entire body as Natasha stood up and left, and I
lifted my arm stiffly to rub my jaw and neck. Oh, my fucking God.
7

Natasha
Sitting on my bed, I could feel Carlyle entering my apartment like a thick,
black cloud stretching out its tendrils to strangle me. If I was lucky, maybe
that’s all that would happen, and I wouldn’t have to worry about anything
anymore. Valerie would be fine! Everyone would be sad, but they’d get over
it with time.
It wasn’t like I was all that important, anyway.
My eyes ached, my cheeks stinging, and my nose clogged, and I laid
down on my side to curl up on Erik’s jacket. The door creaked when Carlyle
put the slightest pressure on it, and my throat tightened as my heart struggled
to beat. He must’ve had Jerry disable the microphone or something because
he simply sat on the edge of my bed and started stroking my hair.
“What now?” The croak pained my throat, and I tensed when Carlyle dug
his fingers to knead my scalp. A hiccup of breath was all I could manage, and
his gaze bored holes into my face before he inhaled steadily in preparation.
Apprehension gripped me in a vice, and my lungs screamed for fresh air as
their stale contents floated up to lighten my head.
“Nothing. It’s not your fault, Natasha, and I don’t blame you. Jerry
caught it quick, and he’s revising security. I had him turn it off for now. No
one else needs to hear what I’m going to say.” He spoke so calmly, and tears
leaked from my swollen lids as shivers raced up and down my spine. “I’m
sure it hurts far more than you deserve. I apologize.”
“Am all I’m good for is being used?” Sniffing harshly, I struggled
through another shallow breath, and a hard-throbbing beat against my
eyeballs as my voice bounced around in my skull. “Everything . . . everything
I did . . . everything I did . . . why . . . why d—”
“I don’t know why, Natasha. I do know one thing, though.” He thumbed
the corner of my eye, and I clenched my jaw hard against the tenderness in
his tone. Carlyle’s eyes were so, so, so grateful, and he palmed my face to
lean down and kiss my forehead. “You’re a wonderful sister, and no matter
what happens, no one can get between you and Valerie. Even if it seems like
you’re far apart right now, you’ll be together again.”
 “I’m tired. I’m so tired . . . ” My voice cracked pathetically, and Carlyle
actually winced in the gloom high above my head. “She’s my life, my whole
life, an-and I-I can’t e—”
Sputtering hoarsely, I couldn’t hold back my sobs anymore, and I buried
my face in this cursed jacket. Carlyle was somber, quiet, his hand threading
through my hair as I cried, and powerful contractions assaulted my abdomen.
Shivering fiercely under the crushing weight of my loss, my muffled wails
filled the otherwise silent room. My brain crawled to a stop as my heart
squeezed painfully, and I gasped and wheezed as my episode reached its
peak.
“I know that nothing I say can help what you feel, Natasha, but you can
always steal her back. Just like I told Valerie, I will never, ever try to get
between you. That being said . . . this is your only freebie, Natasha. I don’t
give second chances.” And he left with that as silently as he’d arrived,
standing by the door to gaze at me in pity and, hopefully, some guilt.
Sniffling hard, I pulled my comforter over my shivering body to mourn in
loneliness. This was what I’d been reduced to, and there was no way to put
my pieces back together— no glue strong enough. Curling up tighter, I
rubbed my face into the blanket under me as my throat closed completely.
Erik . . . this was his fault. The working part of my brain knew it wasn’t
entirely his fault, but he was the straw that broke my back. He, a complete
stranger, did something so atrocious, so unfathomably disgusting, and it
didn’t have to be me. It shouldn’t have been me. I was a pawn to people I
didn’t even know— for Carlyle, for my mom. I wasn’t Valerie’s knight in
shining armor anymore. I couldn’t take her pain to fuel my determination
because she didn’t have any more pain.
“Just for tonight . . . I’ll be really pathetic.” My voice scratched my raw
throat, barely squeezing through, and I pushed myself up onto weak elbows
to sniffled hard. Pain riddled up my nose and into my brain, and my body
moved sluggishly to throw my legs over the side of the bed.
Shuffling out of my room and down the hall, I shivered when my toes
touched the cold tiles on the kitchen floor. Leaving the light off, I barely
lifted my feet as I trudged to the oven, and the much duller overhead pierced
my eyes. Wincing slightly, my shoulders curled in as I ducked my head, and I
ground my teeth hard.
Throwing open the refrigerator, a cold sweat broke out on my skin as I
pulled everything off the shelves and set it on the table. There wasn’t enough
room, so I used the counter— and when that space was gone, I used the
chairs. The food in the refrigerator was all fresh, and I panted by the time I
got it all out and displayed in front of me.
I could make anything I wanted— chicken, steak, and seafood sat on the
table, and I glanced between them warily. Rocking back on my heels, I
rubbed my face absently as a huge, tired sigh built up against my ribs.
“I’ll just make everything.” My mumble was loud in the empty kitchen,
and it bounced off the hard surfaces to follow me on my way to the small
pantry. Snatching the onions, potatoes, and breadcrumbs, I left the collapsing
door open as I set my armfuls on the stovetop. Reaching into the lower
cabinet, I pulled out all the bowls and the cake pans— just because I could.
Moving automatically, I had no plan on what I wanted to make. I just . . .
needed to stave off this hopelessness and hurt.
A soft knock on the front door barely entered my attention, and I clapped
my palms against my cheeks. Sniffling hard, I glanced at myself in the mirror
between the hallway and the kitchen, and I rushed my fingers through my
hair a few times. Cracking open the door, relief sloshed in my chest when
Illya stood on the other side, and she held up a bottle of tequila to shake it
enticingly.
“Wanna get wrecked?” Ducking my head in a nod, I stepped to the side,
and Illya smiled as she passed. “How are you doin’, Natasha?”
“You know how to cook?” Her slender face scrunched up in uncertainty,
and I shut the door behind us before shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter.
You can cut stuff up pretty even, right?”
“Uh, yeah?” That was good enough for me, and I gestured her to follow
me around the corner into the kitchen. Illya paused in surprise, and I grabbed
the bag of potatoes to set it on the edge of the table. “What are we making?”
“I dunno, what do you want to eat? Where’s Theo? He can eat a lot,
right?” She nodded dumbly, and I hauled all the chicken to the stove as my
mind started puttering into action. “I’ll text Fred and Marshal, too.”
“Okay. Why not make chicken parm? Or chicken and potatoes?” I had
legs, wings, two packages of breasts, and two-quarter pieces, and I nodded
dumbly as Illya spewed out options. “Wings, fried chicken, chicken, and
swiss casserole . . . ”
“Let’s make it all. I know how to do all that.” When I glanced over,
Illya’s brows were high, and I frowned as mine drew together. “What? All
you have to do is chop stuff up. It won’t be too hard.”
 “Nothing— nothing. Just give me a knife and tell me how big you want
these pieces.” Gathering up her long, orange hair, Illya nodded with
determination, and a slick smile stretched her face wide. “I should probably
cut up everything before I start drinking, though.”
“You really don’t know how to cook?” She shrugged as I sauntered over
to tear the tape off the cap of the tequila, and my frown deepened. “Why not?
Everyone should know how to at least make mac ‘n’ cheese or eggs.”
“I can’t get close to heat. It irritates my chest.” My lips formed an ‘o,’
and discomfort wiggled deep into my chest as I took a huge swig of burning
alcohol. The warmth surged down my throat, and I hoovered up a shallow
breath as I shook my head viciously. Illya’s chest wasn’t something I’d make
the mistake of asking about again, and I set the bottle on the table as she
ripped open the bag of potatoes. “I like helping, so it’ll be fine.”
8

Erik
“Morning, Captain.” I could hear in my own voice how tired I was, and
Donald cast me an unreadable glance as I sat down across his desk. “Let me
guess, this is about Carlyle Santino?”
“Of course, it is. You had orders to be discreet, at the very least, about
investigating the bombing. What the Hell happened, Erik?” My brows rose in
surprise, and I scowled darkly as understanding flickered across my
superior’s face. Propping his stubbled chin on laced fingers, Donald shot me
a hard glance as this wild goose chase suddenly wasn’t so damn wild
anymore. “Remmy tried to overshoot, didn’t he? I thought I warned you
about his conspiracy theories and obsession with the Syndicate.”
“Obviously, I didn’t listen hard enough.” Grumbling my reply, I knew it
wouldn’t fly, but it was all I had. No wonder that old bastard’s story didn’t
exactly line up. Rubbing my jaw and neck, I sat back a little as I caught my
commander’s gaze. “What’s his whole deal, anyway? Why does he think
Carlyle Santino is connected to the Syndicate?”
“He was involved in a case some twenty years ago with George Santino,
Carlyle’s father, but couldn’t get enough evidence to convict. Ever since
then, he’s been convinced that they’re evil. I’m sure it doesn’t help that they
make hefty donations to local businesses and the city, so they pretty much
run the place. The point is, Erik, why did you go along with something so
stupid as to try to bug the guy’s girlfriend’s sister? That’s a huge stretch, even
for Remmy.”
“The bomb was sent to their shared apartment, Cap. I couldn’t sleep last
night, and I found out through public records that the girls’ mom was heavily
involved in Baron Ninety-Nine. Don’t you think it’s weird how they all
started dropping like flies right after this girlfriend almost gets blown up?”
Donald frowned, his brows wiggling thoughtfully, and I rolled my eyes at
how ‘coincidental’ it all sounded. “This all happened way too fast.”
“Erik . . . Carlyle is off-limits. Unless you visibly witness him shooting
someone and shoot the whole thing in Four-K HD, you don’t go near him.” I
couldn’t do anything other than nod in agreement, and some of the tension
eased in my gut. Donald’s grey hair flashed, and his wrinkles deepened as he
frowned, his dull eyes narrowed on me. “I’m serious. Don’t make this worse,
or you’ll lose your job over the guy, and he’s not worth it.”
“I beg your pardon.“ Twisting to find the very man staring at me, I tensed
as the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. “I’m very much worth
it, thank you.”
“Mr. Santino, I wasn’t expecting you. I would’ve broken out the ‘okay’
coffee instead of the shit we normally serve.” Donald stood up, rounding his
desk to shake Carlyle’s hand firmly, and I followed suit as my boss
introduced us. “Erik Shaffer, Mr. Carlyle Santino.”
“I know who he is. Three years in the Navy before applying for the
SEALs and spending a decade there before voluntarily discharging after a
mission gone bad in Syria. It’s impressive. You’d think you’d know better
than to try to do something as stupid as bug a person who routinely sweeps
for bugs.” Gazing at me even though he held Donald’s hand, Carlyle’s eyes
narrowed into tight slits as discomfort slithered up and down my spine. “I
wanted to see you for myself. More importantly, I’m here to accept your
partner’s resignation.”
Surprise struck my chest, but Carlyle didn’t bat an eyelash as he released
Donald’s hand. His expression never wavered, and my boss sighed heavily.
“Yeah, it was decided yesterday by the higher powers that sign our
paychecks. I tried calling you, but you were on your little internet crusade
about Baron Ninety-Nine.” Carlyle’s expression finally changed, and I
bristled as his lip twitched up in the makings of a snarl. “He’s gonna get
pushed into retirement a little earlier than planned, that’s all.”
“You and I need to have a talk about boundaries, apparently, Erik. Let’s
go outside.” His wasn’t a suggestion, and I frowned as I followed him out of
Donald’s office and through the precinct. I felt like a kid following a teacher
to the principal’s office, and the teacher was also the principal. That sensation
was strange for a thirty-three-year-old, to say the least. Holding the door open
for me, Carlyle gestured me out first, and he plucked a pack of cigarettes out
of his jacket to spark one up. Leaning on the side of the building, I stuffed my
hands in my pockets and huffed a white, crystalline breath as the cold stung
my cheeks.
“I’ve had scuffles with your partner before.” Mumbling around his
cigarette, Carlyle glanced at me through slits, and I inhaled deeply under the
weight of his gaze. No wonder Remmy got the jeebies from him— there was
something about him that just rubbed the wrong way. There was something in
his eyes that spoke of unfathomable violence, and he carried himself like a
guy that killed without remorse. “I can only imagine what you hoped to
achieve by doing this, but I can guarantee you that you didn’t get what you
wanted. All you did was crack open a little, lonely girl with the world on her
shoulders, and she’s in the middle of losing her reason for living. If Natasha
kills herself, will you be the guilty one, Erik?”
“Are you going to do anything to stop it?” Combatting his question with
my own, I watched him take a deep drag of his cigarette and hold it. Smoke
seeped out of Carlyle’s nose slowly, and he eventually shook his head.
“You know, it’s not really my problem, is it? I mean, sure, Valerie will be
devastated, but people adapt to catastrophic changes over time. It might be
horrible in the beginning, but I’ve done what I can. I don’t care about
Natasha’s wellbeing beyond that.” His face was stone cold, not a trace of
anything, and I couldn’t detect the lilt of a lie in his voice as he exhaled the
rest of his lungful. “I didn’t expect you to dig in on this rookie-follower
routine. You’re not some twenty-year-old with no experience, Erik. I’ve read
your files, all of them, and I’ve got to say that I’m disappointed.”
Before I could even open my mouth, even form a question, Carlyle was
talking again, and he sized me up standing just a few inches from me. Chest
to chest, we were the same height, but he was a lot slenderer than I was.
Not that it really mattered as those emotionless eyes dug into mine.
“I’m taking your partner’s badge. I know that may not mean a lot to you
because you’ve only been an officer for a few months but understand me
perfectly clear. I’m not someone to mess with, and you made the mistake of
attracting my attention. Your partner is an idiot with a glory complex,
looking for things that aren’t there.” Carlyle’s tone could cut concrete, and I
jerked my head in a curt nod before he stepped back. “By the way, Erik . . .
did you ever consider that the bomb was meant for the person it was mailed
to? From now on, do your own research. Don’t rely on word of mouth, and if
you do, make sure to ask the right people.”
“Why are you here if you don’t care about her?” Carlyle paused, casting a
furious glance as I ground my molars.
“This is my home, Erik. It might not be something you’re accustomed to,
considering your background. I hate when people disrespect me in my
home.” Tensing at the jibe, I couldn’t help but scowl when he scoffed at me
with disdain blazing in his eyes. “Don’t follow your partner’s footsteps.”
 “Wait.” Why couldn’t I just keep my big-ass mouth shut? Pursing my lips
thinly, I cleared my throat roughly as shame threatened to close it. Carlyle’s
expression twisted in irritation, and he tapped his foot impatiently. “What
happened between you and Remmy?”
“Make sure you ask the right people the right questions.” He walked back
inside, tossing his cigarette carelessly, and I exhaled a gust of a sigh that
puffed out in front of me. Clutching my head between my arms, I silently
cursed myself as the last few minutes raced through my head. This was
exactly why I joined the Navy— I took orders much better than being left
with my personal opinion.
“Shit . . . shit . . . ” Scuffing my heel, I jerked open the door to stalk into
the main room of the precinct, and my eyelid twitched when I heard Remmy
screaming in Donald’s office. Carlyle sat on my desk, his legs hanging off the
back, and I made a beeline for the front door because, well, fuck all this
drama.
I wasn’t going to stick around for a new partner.
“I should’ve known being a cop wasn’t for me.” I came from the SEALs,
damnit, and being a cop was so . . . so objective. Good didn’t mean good, and
bad didn’t mean bad. At least, in the military, I got my orders and didn’t have
to think any more about it. I didn’t have to know who I was targeting, only
that he was being targeted.
Natasha didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of crazy and stupid.
9

Erik
“Ah!” The pained hiss that seeped through the small cube sitting on the
nightstand woke me from a troubled sleep, and I rolled over to stare at it
through the gloom. Natasha kept the bug off during the day and turned it on
at night, and her hurt sounds tormented me all the way to morning. I knew
what this was. This was her getting back at me for poking my nose
somewhere I shouldn’t have. This was her turning the tables on the privacy I
had tried to wrest from her.
I couldn’t turn the damn thing off, either— no matter how much I wanted
to, I just couldn’t press that tiny button on the back. After Remmy got fired
two days before, I’d quit within the hour, and Donald hadn’t tried to get the
equipment back. Maybe. He knew it was compromised. Maybe, he just
wanted to forget the whole thing happened. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t going
to slink back to that God-awful place to ask.
“Shit . . . ” The thick slur assaulted my ears, and a loud rustling emanated
from the speaker the muffle harsh pants. Sitting up, my skin burned against
the sheet that slid off my chest, and the coarse hairs there bristled.
Goosebumps swept up my arm when I grabbed the device, and a little choked
sound burst out of it. “I don’t know if you’re listening . . . if anyone ever
really listens. Everything I say is being recorded, right? So it’s like a diary . .
.”
Natasha sucked up a sharp, shallow wheeze of breath, and I pulled my
knee up to prop my elbow and hold my forehead in my palm. Grimacing as
she laughed a hollow, sad noise and sniffled hard, I could picture her wiping
her face when I blinked, her image blossoming through the darkness of my
room.
“When you tell people things, they become real. Wait, no, delete that.
That’s not how you’re supposed to start.” Exhaling a crackly sound only to
sniff hard, she audibly flopped down, and I clenched my jaw as apprehension
flooded my veins.

“Dear diary . . . I never told anyone this because I didn’t want it to be

 real. It happened, and I got through it— that’s how I looked at it. I
had no choice but to keep trudging because Valerie needed me. She
doesn’t know any of this, either. I mean, of course, she knows the
parts she was there for, but the rest . . . There’s so much more than
just being sold off for drugs.”
“I guess it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that I have abandonment
issues. I mean, it started when I was twelve, but my dad didn’t know
about any of it because my mom hid it so well. They were going to
have another baby, another set of twins, but she had a miscarriage.
It’s not exactly that uncommon a story— they lose a baby and can’t
recover. It’s pretty standard stuff.” Natasha’s voice stabilized as she
spun her story, and I closed my eyes as she sniffled and chuffed a
sigh. Every part of me was quiet, still, waiting for what came next,
and a cold sweat dribbled down my back as my gut curdled with
anxiety. “She hid her drug use really well until my dad witnessed a
murder and decided that was a perfect time to escape. He went into
witness protection and never came back, but we all thought he was
dead. That set my mom off. She was bad before, but . . . ”
“I had just turned thirteen, and I was definitely a tough kid,
tougher than Valerie. When my dad left, she was a huge wreck, and
my mom just went off the deep end with the heroine. I guess she had
an excuse, but she had two living kids that she just abandoned. At the
same time, I lost everyone but Valerie, just bang, gone.”

She clapped to punctuate her point, and I flinched as the sound rattled my
brain. Even so, Natasha didn’t stop talking, and I wondered briefly if she
knew I was listening, or hoped it, or just shot in the dark because she was
desperate. “Things went downhill fast. My mom stopped paying bills, and the
electricity went first. That was kinda cool, honestly. At first . . . It was Dallas,
after all, so it didn’t get cold. But, then, it wasn’t so cool. My mom
introduced me to her drug dealer when Valerie was at after-school, and he
gave her rent money. Of course, she used it for drugs.”
Disgust coated my tongue when Natasha paused for what seemed like
forever, and I held my breath as a bead of sweat trailed down my neck. She
cleared her throat roughly, and my heart leaped into my throat when the
crackling of an open microphone suddenly went silent. My eyes widened in
shock, and I tightened my grip on the receiver as a particular kind of panic
stained my chest.
“What the fuck . . . ” The slur rolled between my teeth thickly, and I
dropped my head forward to groan in frustration. Natasha probably had an
incredibly fucked up story, and I needed to know it. Hauling my ass out of
bed hastily, I stormed out of my bedroom to pace the length of the living
room as my mind raced furiously.
Why did I even care about this so much? I could throw the stupid receiver
away, delete the app from my phone, and pretend it never happened. Pausing
to flop my head back, I blew out a hot sigh as my lungs threatened to squeeze
my heart too hard. Natasha could ignore that this had ever happened like
we’d never met, and I’d find a new job in fucking Cancun or something.
We’d never have to see each other again. She could move on with her life,
and I could continue trekking through the shit of my own.
Her face that night at CVS, when she smiled at me, flashed behind my
lids when I blinked, and I scowled at the ceiling. I was responsible for this. I
couldn’t just run away. I was the guy who ran toward danger . . . or I used to
be. Rubbing my lower back with a clammy palm, I gazed down at the
receiver in my free hand and ground my teeth hard.
“This is my fault.” Okay, not all the shit Natasha had been through, but
her reaching her breaking point was entirely my doing. If I had just followed
my gut and told Remmy to fuck off, I wouldn’t be dealing with this right
now. Ever since Syria, I’d been second-guessing myself, and it had to stop.
Just like then, people were in danger, and this time she was innocent.
“Ben . . . I wish you were around to tell me what the fuck I should do.”
Leaning heavily on the back of the sofa, I sniffed hard as my murmur echoed
in the large living room. My pension was enough to live on, but if I didn’t get
a job, I’d probably go insane. I needed to go to the gym— working out
always helped me think.
I wanted to crawl back in bed and wait until Natasha turned the
microphone back on.
I could go for a drive.
Rubbing my hand down my face, I groaned into my palm as my thoughts
went every which way, and I shook my head viciously. Natasha’s expression
when I asked her about the bomb filled my mind’s eye and walked around the
pleather, semi-circular couch to grab the sheath of papers I had on Carlyle
Santino.
After her apartment was blown up, she’d moved into the complex he
owned, and I knew she was home. Searching for the address, I flipped
through the pages and furrowed my brows as my thoughts finally slowed
down. I’d probably never get the opportunity to apologize if I waited in
Natasha to show up in front of me.
Carlyle knew classified information about me if his threat was real, which
means he knew why I left the SEALs. Ben getting killed was my fault— I’d
followed a bad call, ignored my gut because I trusted my team lead. If I had
voiced my objection, Nathan would’ve reconsidered our plan, and Ben would
still be alive. I wouldn’t have a bullet dangerously close to my spine.
Shaking my head furiously, I dampened the thoughts of what could’ve
been and tried to focus on fixing the shitstorm I’d kicked up.
10

Natasha
“They let you in here?” My bland tone hid how astonished I was, and I
scanned Erik as he stood rigid on the other side of the threshold. “What do
you want? I’m not saying anymore.”
“No, that’s not why I came here. I . . . ” Trailing off, Erik pursed his lips
thinly, and he captured my eyes steely as he straightened his broad shoulders.
“I want to apologize, not just say ‘sorry.’ I knew what I was doing was wrong
when I did it, and I . . . I want to try to start over fresh.”
“Okay . . . ” Frowning darkly, I stepped to the side, and Erik crossed into
my apartment as my mind whirled. Carlyle really let him in— even after he
bugged me. Why? What did Carlyle say to Erik at the station the other day? I
knew he quit because Carlyle had been sure to mention it to me, but I wasn’t
convinced it had much to do with me. Certainly, his deciding on a different
career path wasn’t only because of his guilt over how badly he’d fucked up?
“If you knew it was wrong, why’d you go along with it?”
Gesturing Erik into the kitchen as I posed my question, I rolled my lips
between my teeth as I went to the stove to check on my stew. I had just
started a slow cooker with some ribs, and my turkey and rice were basically
just parts of a turkey carcass at the moment.
“It’s a bit of a story, but . . . you shouldn’t be the only one sharing,
Natasha.” So he was listening. A vicious kind of satisfaction saddled my
chest, and I turned as he dropped in a chair to clasp his hands on the table.
Erik didn’t have a lean piece of meat on him anywhere, and his hunched
shoulders just made him appear coiled, ready to strike. “My last mission, I
should’ve done the same thing. I should’ve trusted my gut. My best friend
died, and a few of us got injured. I knew I wasn’t going to pass my physical
anyway, so I opted for medical discharge. I shouldn’t have become a cop,
either. I doubted myself when I enrolled, throughout the training, even during
the graduation ceremony. Ever since that last mission, I fuck everything up.
It’s honestly impressive, but not in a good way.”
“So, you not trusting yourself just makes you not trust yourself more?
That makes no sense. Shouldn’t you be more inclined to stick to your guns?”
My probing earned me a huff, a slight shake of his head, and Erik sat back to
stretch his long legs and tilt his head to me. His brown eyes glimmered with
his shame at being so uncertain with himself, and I almost felt a little bad for
him.
“You’d think so, but . . . I don’t know. I’ve never been a civilian. My
parents were pretty poor, and I was a screwup, so I got sent to a military
academy when I was thirteen after changing schools for the fourth time for
fighting.” Surprise rose my brows, and Erik chuffed a humorless laugh as a
sense of surrealism blanketed my kitchen. “I’m pretty good at it, so I enlisted.
I was a sailor first, and then I became a SEAL— did that for almost eleven
years. I had a place, and I was good at it. Now, I don’t.”
“Your partner was a lot older than you.” Suddenly, I felt really, really bad
for Erik. How messed up was it to be used as a tool for some guy’s crusade?
Wait a minute . . . that’s exactly what Carlyle did. The only difference is he
knew he was right. “You really never had another job or anything outside the
military?”
“Aside from being a police officer, which lasted a whopping four months,
no. I’d been warned about Remmy’s craziness with Carlyle, but we were
supposed to investigate the bombing. It got away from me.” Shame thickened
his tone, and Erik ran his hand over his head and down his neck as he
glowered at the edge of the table. “I should’ve just done what I thought I
should do and asked you directly. Remmy convinced me Carlyle would never
let me get that close because he’s rich, and capitalism breeds criminals and
yada-yada-yada . . . ”
“You quit the force?” Turning to the pot, I peeked inside to check the
temperature, and I jacked up the heat a little to get it to a boil. “Why
investigate the bomb in the first place?”
“Remmy pitched the public safety crap, and everyone fell for it. It was
just a pretext, though. Besides, I’ve got a pretty good idea why you got that
bomb. It was to scare you into going back to Dallas, right?” My brows
furrowed deeply, and I slowly turned back around as a tightness balled up
under my heart. “They wanted you back, right?”
“Not me. Valerie. They sent the bomb to her because . . . I guess I didn’t
do it for them anymore.” Smiling grimly, I sat down across the Erik as his lip
twitched up in a snarl, and his eyes darkened with the shadows that played on
his face. My abdomen ached from the tension in me, and I reached to rub my
heart as it stuttered dangerously. “I thought about it a lot— why did they
suddenly only want her? I never found an answer. She’s happy, though, so
that’s what matters.”
“Your happiness matters, too, Natasha.” My eyes stung as I shook my
head sluggishly, and I inhaled a harsh, deep breath through my nose while
Erik leaned forward. “Seriously, you deserve it just as much, if not more.”
“Yeah, I know. I didn’t say Valerie’s was the only thing that mattered. I
hate living here.” His brows rose, and his goatee bristled as sourness infected
my expression and stained my tongue. “I hate my job. I hate watching
everyone around me get better while I only get worse. I hate lying all the
time. I hate being up all night. I think what I hate the most is that I’m too
much of a coward to actually kill myself.”
“What? You shouldn’t. Natasha, everything gets better, even if it takes a
little time.” A scoff escaped my nostrils, and Erik’s lips thinned as they
dragged into a deep grimace. “You can change all this stuff you hate.”
“I used to tell myself that all the time— just hold on. It’ll get better. I just
have to endure it, and I’ll get rewarded eventually. The thing is . . . I suffered
so much. I put up with so much. I did so many things . . . so why did Valerie
get her happily ever after, and I didn’t? She’d be okay eventually, but I’m
tired of waiting and hoping and thinking I’ll get some relief.” Inhaling a huge
lungful, I cleared my throat roughly, and Erik curled his shoulders in defeat
to my points. I mean, what the fuck did he expect? I had months— years,
even— to think of why and how and if. “You really don’t have the best
perception, do you, Erik?”
“Not really, no. I didn’t really come here with a plan, Natasha. I just
wanted to . . . to try to fix the damage I did to you. I know I probably can’t,
but I had to attempt it, at least.” Eyeballing him critically, I cocked my head
as he held his higher, and his eyes blazed with determination when they met
mine. “I was hoping we could help each other.”
My eyelid twitched at that, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Erik
just wanted to absolve himself of guilt. It had nothing to do with helping me
— he only wanted to help himself. Lifting myself from my chair, I skirted the
table to stand between him and it, and he never once looked away from me.
“You know what? Let’s eat. That always helps, right? Since you’re so
keen on that . . . ” I didn’t move, though, my eyes narrowed into fine points
as Erik clenched his jaw noticeably, and I reached to drag my fingertip down
the bridge of his nose. “Unless you meant a different kind of fix. It’s been a
long time. I bet you’d really enjoy yourself. Maybe, you’d even have a little
pride at breaking my thirteen-year dry spell.”
“Dinner would be perfect.” I wasn’t sure whether I was relieved or
disappointed at Erik’s gravelly declaration. Shuffling toward the refrigerator,
I pulled out a package of steaks and bacon, and I could feel his eyes scanning
me critically. “Natasha, I mean it— I want to try with the goal of
succeeding.”
“I bet you do.” Bitterness stained my tone. I couldn’t hold it back
anymore, and I twisted to shoot Erik a nasty glare. Irritation stabbed my heart
again and again, and he tensed in his seat as I slapped the packages on the
counter hard. “I bet you want to succeed because then you won’t feel so bad.
No one does anything unless it benefits them in some way. You wouldn’t be
here if it didn’t do something good for you, Erik. I’m not stupid, and I’ve
played this game before, so don’t fucking lie about it. You’re here because
you feel awful, so guilty, so ashamed, and you want that absolved, so you
trudge your ass all the way here, head hung low, and try to find a way in to
exploit for yourself, not for me.”
“I’m not here for me.” Storming over to him, I smacked Erik across the
face as hard as I could, and he flung back from the chair and onto his back.
The hard clatter of wood crunching between tile and a body echoed in my
ears, and I straddled him to take his cheeks in both my hands. My anger got
the best of me, but I was so tired of being lied to, and hot, fat tears leaked
from my eyes to dribble down my nose.
“Maybe that’s why you’re such an indecisive piece of shit, Erik. You lie
and you pretend and you act like you’re righteous, but you’re not!” His
blurred expression twisted in disgust, and my voice crackled harshly as I
squeezed his cheeks between my palms. “Don’t lie— you’re not some
fucking justice warrior, okay. No one cares about you anymore. You’re a
name on a list of people that failed, and you can’t even accept that? How
many bad guys did you takedown in all that time? You’re not better than
anyone else just because you went into the military. The worst monsters
aren’t the ones overseas— they’re right here.”
Punching his chest, my little tirade came to an abrupt end when my
knuckles hit a metal plate, and my breath hitched as the recoil knocked the air
from my lungs. Blinking hard, I rubbed the spot over Erik’s t-shirt as he
stared blankly up at me, and cold gripped my spine in a vice.
“You’re here for you and me, both of us. Even that’s more the truth than
anything. The real bad guys are the ones we imagine into reality, and the
worst of the worst is the bad guy that can’t face the truth.” My voice was
quiet now, and I sniffled hard as my elbows wobbled, threatening to give
way. Erik was warm and hard, like iron, underneath me, and I shook my head
before managing wheezing an inhale.
“I’m here to help you get better because that’ll make me feel better. I
can’t stand the guilt, and the only way to release it is to turn this nightmare
into something else.” His deep voice reverberated up my thighs and arms,
and I sunk down under the weight of his truth. Erik didn’t move, didn’t even
breathe, and I closed my eyes to take a staggering breath.
“Do you know how to cook?”
11

Natasha
“Are you feeling better, Nat?” Glancing up from my laptop as Valerie
sauntered into the conference room, a sketch pad under her arm and worry
furrowing her brows, I frowned slightly. “Illya said you were sick. Are you
okay?”
“Yeah. I’m here, aren’t I? I didn’t want to ruin your trip. How’d that go,
anyway?” My sister dropped into the chair next to mine, plopping her pad on
the table with a fwop, and curiosity rose my brows higher. “Not very
inspirational?”
“Not much, no. You’d think going to an underground city made almost
entirely of human bones would get things going, but . . . I don’t know. It just
didn’t. I mean, it was really cool, but . . . ” Trailing off in dissatisfaction,
Valerie huffed and pouted, and I giggled lightly as she swiveled around in the
chair. “Anyway, there’s a lot of creepy stuff on the internet, so that’ll have to
do. What about you? What’d you do while we were gone? Fred said you
finished the infrastructure.”
Licking my lips heavily as I nodded, I turned my laptop to Valerie, and
she pretended to know what she was looking at. Smiling slightly, I ignored
the memories that bombarded me of the night before to focus on the job. Now
that Valerie was back, it seemed more bearable, and she arched a brow
quizzically at me as I leaned back in my chair.
“I did. I mostly worked. Illya and I hung out a little. I did some cooking.
It was really nice . . . but, to be honest, she’s a horrible assistant. I didn’t
think she was serious when she said she never cooked anything at all before.”
Scrunching up my face as Valerie laughed heartily, I straightened to gesture
to her sketch pad. “What you got for me? I’m going to have to integrate it
into the website and stuff, so it better be good.”
“It’s really not bad, but it’s not great either. I’m not happy with it at all.”
Of course, anything Valerie drew was a masterpiece, even if she hated it.
Popping open the pad, she flipped a few pages of doodles and folded them
back to reveal a surprisingly scary setting. The graveyard was even creepier
in black and white, and there was our main character sneaking around in full
color. “It’s not done yet, but . . . I’m thinking of taking out a few things. It
seems really busy.”
“Have you shown Marshal, yet? Did he fill you in on the meeting with the
guy?”
“Yeah, yeah, I sent him a picture of it for the meeting.” Waving off my
concern, my sister nodded with a little huff of displeasure. “They said it was
awesome, but I think they were just fluffing my feathers.”
“It really is good, Val, but I think you’re right. It does seem a bit busy.” I
agreed with her just so she’d feel better about the scene, and Valerie smiled
brightly as I pointed at a seemingly aimless flock of crows in a tree. “If it
doesn’t add anything, don’t put it in. I think you should focus on the girl. It’ll
make it more . . . concise.”
Not that I really know what the Hell I’m talking about. The thought came
and went, but it wasn’t uncommon. Valerie was the one with the talent, and I
just happened to be a little above average at most things. She turned the page
to another scene, a crypt, and I held up the pad to gaze under furrowed brows.
Nothing about this scene was unique— it was just a crypt with a bunch of
caskets and a creepy statue, totally normal. Truth be told, it didn’t have the
same punch as the opening scene, and I frowned under tightly knit brows.
“Fred’s supposed to give me a final of the storyboard on Monday, but this
is what I’m gonna base the rest off of. It’s not really in-your-face-freaky, but
it’s gonna get worse and worse as the game progresses, so I didn’t want to go
too far. At least, that’s the advice he gave me.” A soft ‘ah’ of understanding
passed my lips, and Valerie twirled around in her chair absently. “To be
honest, this isn’t nearly as fun as I thought. I know I vouched for this, but I
think it was really just for a reason to validate quitting at the website place.”
“Yeah. To be honest, I’ve been considering dropping out, but, like, I can’t
because I’m too good a person.” Doing this was a desperate measure, but
now we were all committed, and things were actually going pretty smoothly.
The work just sucked, and I wasn’t sure I’d want to do this again, even if it is
easier the second time around. “I hired someone to manage those properties,
right, so I don’t even need to do this for money anymore. That was the whole
thing— we needed jobs. And also, Carlyle has already invested money and
people on this, so . . . ”
“He invested two people on this, and honestly not that much money or
expectations. I think he might’ve realized when we pitched this idea that it
wasn’t exactly gonna work out.” It’s so much easier to hide my shit when
Valerie’s right next to me. I lied to her so much that I wasn’t even sure what
the truth was anymore. When she was here, I felt normal. I felt more than just
okay— I felt a little good, to be frank. But when she was gone, I crashed so
hard, and everything seemed to be swallowed up by blackness that I couldn’t
get through.
I knew that I only had two options at this point. I had to fight to get to a
place where I could be somewhat alright without my sister, or I was gonna
walk in front of a truck. There was no in-between.
“So, I heard the maids talking about how you got a visit last night from
some guy.” The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up at Valerie’s
cautious tone, and I glanced over at her through narrowed pupils. “Are you
really okay, Nat? You never had a guy over before.”
“Yeah, I’m really okay.” Now that you’re back. “We just had dinner. I
made bacon-wrapped sirloin, and we talked. Nothing happened.” That was
the truth, at least, and Valerie shot me a wild look before I rolled my eyes
with a small frown. “What? I’m capable of having friends.”
“I just didn’t think you were capable of having guy friends.” Blinking at
that, I flopped my head back to heave a massive, groaning sigh, and Valerie
swiveled around fast, tucking her feet. “Fred’s gay, and Marshal was married
— that’s why you didn’t mind them. I just worry about you because it’s
really not something you do, even platonically.”
“Valerie, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m good. You’re good.
We’re good. Besides, they’re all dead and keeping on being afraid of them
only makes them live on. It’s about time for me to take a leap.” My tone
lowered, and Valerie frowned deeply as her cheeks paled a few shades.
Ducking her head, she nodded reluctantly, and I reached to rub her shoulder
as warmth suffused my chest. “I know it sucks, but just because we’re
growing doesn’t mean we’re separating. We just need to figure out what
we’re gonna do now that we have other people that want our attention.”
“You’re always doing that, Natasha. How can you be so rational?”
“What? Someone has to be. You live in la-la land, taking impromptu trips
to Paris and fucking a super-rich dude any time you want.” Poking her in the
forehead, I smiled when she blushed furiously, and a laugh clogged my
throat. “You’re an idiot.”
“You’re an idiot!” I snorted a giggle at the high-pitched whine, and
Valerie scooted her chair away from me with an indignant huff. “I have better
things to do than be insulted, damnit.”
 “Do you, though?” Amusement infected my tone, and my sister nodded
viciously as I propped my forearms on the table to cradle my cheek. “I don’t
have anything better to do, that’s for sure.”
Our banter ended when Fred and Marshal came sauntering into the
conference room, and I lifted my head at their stern expressions. I could feel a
chill in the air at the determination in their faces, and I scrunched up my nose.
“Let’s get this going. We’re gonna be productive today, whether you like
it or not.” Marshal sat down as Fred made his announcement, and I groaned
in foreboding. Valerie and I didn’t need to do this, but Fred didn’t have a
friggen job, and Marshal was still waiting on his money to start rolling in.
“Don’t even try to argue with me— we are working today, Natasha. No
procrastinating.”
“Yeah, okay . . . ” My dreary agreement earned me a giggle from Valerie,
and she waddled her chair back to my side to rub my back comfortingly. “I
guess if I really have to.”
“You better— you set us really far behind with the whole not showing up
shit yesterday. If you have a tough time, you did it to yourself.” Fred was on
a damn mission today, and I shot Marshal a curious look, but he only
shrugged. Scowling lightly, I sat up and took a deep, stabilizing breath before
grabbing my laptop.
At least being forced to work this cyber sweatshop meant I didn’t have to
think about Erik or last night. Even now, the calm, comforting atmosphere in
the kitchen after my little explosion permeated my skin all the way down to
my bones. I wasn’t going to tell him how much I enjoyed cooking with him,
and he wasn’t that bad.
Starting over wasn’t such a bad idea.
12

Erik
“No, Dad. I quit. I’m not gonna let myself be subjected to that shit. The
dude’s a fucking nut case, and I got unlucky having him as my first partner. I
became a cop because it seemed reasonable at the time, but . . . ” My dad
snorted over the phone knowingly, and I frowned deeply as I shoveled a
piece of bacon into my mouth. “What . . . what? Are you gonna tell me ‘I told
you so’? Because I really don’t want to hear it right now.”
“I did tell you so, Erik. So, do you have another job lined up, or are you
just going to sit around on your pension and disability?” I scowled fully at
that. It sounded so derogatory when he put it like that. Sure, I was receiving
aid for my injury, but I fucking earned it— I got shot right in the ass, for
fuck’s sake! “Well, if you’re not doing anything, you should come down to
South Carolina and visit us some time.”
“Why? So you can tell me I’m a pussy for accepting medical discharge?”
My dad was such a hard-ass, and I didn’t let him confirm my suspicions as I
leaned back in my chair and swallowed roughly. “You know, I realize that
I’m the first in our whole family to accept it, but I’d rather be alive, thanks
very much. I have a bullet half an inch from my spine, and I want to keep it
there.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just busting your balls, Erik.” Grunting as I
wiped my mouth with a napkin, I shook my head, and my dad sighed
contentedly. “I’ve got to go, but you should really call your mother. I need
you to confirm that I told you to come see us.”
“Yeah, I will. I’ll talk to you later, Dad.” We hung up, and I licked my
teeth as I recounted the conversation silently. In my family, too much of an
opinion was a bad thing, and my fingers drummed on the table absently.
Questions were bad— do what I was told, or get railed at about following
orders. “No wonder I’m such a useless adult.”
“Your dad sounds nice.” Twisting to find Natasha standing over me, a
coffee in one hand and a croissant in the other, I grunted to hide my surprise.
“Mind if I sit?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, and I took my fork to stab a piece of egg as
discomfort tightened my shoulders. Eyeing Natasha in the silence, I propped
my elbow on the small, circular table to hold my cheek. Her eyes weren’t
puffy anymore, and she didn’t look so gaunt. After last night, I wondered
what would happen when she had time to think about the implications of
‘starting over’.
“Did you sleep last night?” Posing my question, I took a bite off my
loaded fork, and Natasha shook her head. Her long, brown hair fell in slight
curls over her shoulders, framing her face perfectly, and I swallowed my
mouthful before speaking up. “When was the last time you slept?”
“A long time. A couple months, maybe. Before Christmas, I think.” My
brows furrowed above my frown at her casual reply, and she set down her
coffee to lean on her forearms on the table. “How about you, Erik? I had a
nice time last night.”
“Would you like to do it again?” The question slipped out of my mouth,
and I pursed my lips tightly as Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise. Shit . . .
shit . . . “You’re a great cook.”
The silence stretched beyond discomfort and into straight awkwardness,
and I berated myself above the blood drumming in my ears. Natasha stared
and stared, and anxiety curdled my gut the longer it went on. Why the fuck
did I have to say something so damn stupid?
Tensing when Natasha suddenly stood up and walked away, I scowled at
the place where she’d been sitting. Rubbing my hand over my head roughly,
my eyelids fluttered closed as a frustrated, tired sigh rolled off my tongue.
She just fucking popped up and disappeared with no damn warning. How was
I supposed to know what set her off if she didn’t fucking stick around?
“Here.” The hairs on my neck bristled as Natasha flicked a napkin in
front of me, and I glanced up at her. Sipping her coffee leisurely, she watched
me with those eyes that seemed so vulnerable and so steely at the same time.
“You’re not that useless— you can cut vegetables really nice.”
“Natasha—" I almost reached out, but the only time she voluntarily
touched me was when she hit me. Turning to me, Natasha arched a brow
quizzically, and my cheek twitched under her gaze. “I appreciate that.”
“You should.” She nodded curtly before rushing out of the breakfast-
slash-coffee place, and I sat back in my seat to scoff in disbelief. Covering
my mouth to hide my grim smile, I turned back around to stare at the napkin
she’d tossed in front of me. Her phone number scribbled in pen, and I picked
up the plain square to rub it between my fingertips. The way we interacted
was insane— me being a complete dumb shit, and her being completely
awkward.
Because she’d never been on a date . . . because she was abused as a kid.
My appetite fled at that thought, and I stood up to stuff the napkin in my
pocket and head outside. The cold assaulted my face, and I pulled my hood
up on the short walk to my car. I had far too much time on my hands to think
about something so fucked up, but it was slowly but surely consuming me.
Natasha was consuming me. I’d been gripped by anxiety after I got home
last night, hoping she’d start talking again. She didn’t, of course, but I stayed
up regardless. Everything was a blur between leaving until now, and I shook
my head viciously as I dug my keys out of my jacket pocket.
“I need to get a grip.” Climbing into my car, I shut myself inside to rub
my hands down my face and neck. I was too old to be going through this shit,
and I pulled the napkin out of my pocket, followed by my cell phone. Typing
a quick, simple message, I dropped my phone in the cupholder before turning
the engine and gripping the wheel. There wasn’t much to do in this city in the
dead of winter, and I backed out of my space to head out of the lot.
“Maybe going home wouldn’t be a bad idea.” God only knew this shit
stain in the northern edge of New York state wasn’t my home. I’d been here
four months, reluctantly moving here for a job I didn’t really want. My father
was right, but I’d never tell him or he’d hang it over me forever.
There was too much thinking going on for a brain that didn’t do much of
the stuff, and a headache sprung behind my eyes as I turned onto the street. It
didn’t help that this winter was long and cold, and I didn’t know anyone or
anything here.
Cooking with Natasha was the first time I’d had ‘fun’, if that’s what it
could be called.

The kitchen was quiet but not unpleasant or heavy, and I glanced up
from peeling potatoes at the table to Natasha by the stove. Her
shoulders curled a little, her hands steady but slow as she seasons the
steaks she brought out.
“I’m sorry about earlier, making you lash out.” She paused at my
words but didn’t turn around, and I pursed my lips thinly as my chest
tightened. “I’ve never been a civilian. I was sent to military school.
Technically speaking, I didn’t graduate high school on time because I
was deployed when I was eighteen and didn’t get my last few credits
 until after I came back thirteen months later.”
Honestly, I hoped that if I gave a little, she’d give a little, and
Natasha grabbed the package of bacon to cut off the top. Turning
back to the potatoes, I clenched my jaw hard, and awkwardness
wiggled deep between my lungs.
“I almost didn’t graduate on time. I had to take night classes and
online courses after Valerie and I got emancipated when we were
sixteen.” Grinding my teeth at the hesitancy in her tone, I couldn’t
help but wonder why Natasha hadn’t kicked me out. My cheek still
stung from her smack, and the metal plate holding my rib together
ached from the emotional impact of that hit. “I liked the snow . . .
until it turned brown.”
“Yeah, it’s nice the first few weeks, but then you just want it to
end.”

Everything that came out of my mouth was so damn stupid. Groaning

softly in self-disgust, I took a right turn toward the gym and hoped the routine
would stop my head from spinning.
13

Natasha
Me: Come over tonight. Rolling my lips between my teeth, I locked my
phone absently, and the screen went dark to show my anxiety-riddled
expression. Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the back of the sofa
and sunk into the cushions with a huge sigh.
“I don’t know what your plan is, but it probably sounds bad, Nat.”
Valerie sat next to me, a bowl of spaghetti and sauce in her hands, and I
scrunched up my face at her unwanted advice. “Why are you hanging around
the guy that did that to you? I don’t get it.”
“When he showed up the other night . . . ” Mumbling softly, the taste of
meat sauce clung to the roof of my mouth, and I licked my lips heavily. “It
was nice. Erik was genuinely remorseful, and he really does want to make it
right. Plus, I mean, he’s hot— what can I say?”
But my sister saw through my shit easily, casting me a long, drawn look,
and I scoffed as I picked up my fork and stabbed into my pasta. If there was
one guy who was the complete opposite build and stature of what I was
‘used’ to, it was Erik. He was broad, with at least an inch shoulder width on
Theo, and he was tall, and he was bald in a good way.
“Nat, if you feel like you want to try having sex, you should just say it.”
My throat tightened at that, and I twirled my fork to gather up some noodles
as Valerie nudged my shoulder with hers. “It’s okay, I promise. It just takes
some getting used to.”
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” Taking a huge bite off my fork to halt
the conversation, my mind continued to whirl as the silence enclosed on the
living room. Seeing Erik talking to his dad at the coffee shop made him seem
so normal, and it really hit home that he was as lost as I was. From what
snippets of conversation I heard, his dad was an ass, and he was living in a
city he didn’t like, doing a job he didn’t like, for no other reason than he felt
he had to.
Sounds super familiar, huh?
Side-eyeing Valerie, I chewed slowly as I examined her face, and she
practically glowed. She was doing so good— so good— and I wanted to do
so good, too. God didn’t exist, but fuck it all if I wasn’t going to try.
Bitterness stained my tongue, souring my food, and I swallowed hard before
pushing myself forward to grab my glass of wine.
She never had to try for shit— all she had to do was show up, and
everything happened in her favor.
My phone buzzed, and I set down the glass to grab it as my sister trained
her attention on the television.
“Oh, this is my schedule for March. This was a really good idea, Valerie.
I make a good amount of money, and the website does most of the work.”
Scanning my completely booked month of March in Spain, Mexico, and
Brazil, I smiled happily as my sister nodded out of the corner of my eye. “I
mean, I already paid Carlyle back for loaning me money to set up security
cameras, which I wasn’t expecting. I knew it was a great idea when I thought
of it, but it’s better than I expected.”
“Considering your prices are, like, half of what they should be right now,
I’m not surprised.” Nodding firmly, I locked my cell again, and the brief
distraction sucked the air from my lungs in a satisfied sigh. I wanted to get
my credibility up, and for that, I needed to attract vacationers, which means I
needed to keep it cheap. Come May, I’d bump up the price a little, but I had a
plan, and I was going to stick to it. “Look, on the news.”
Pointing her fork at the TV, Valerie frowned under furrowed brows, and I
mimicked her expression as I trained my gaze on the distant point beyond the
coffee table.

“Authorities in Dallas are have officially declared the rash of

murders these past months the result of mounting tensions between
local gangs. Here’s more from Chief of Police Spencer Montgomery.”
The newswoman paused and I snatched the remote to turn up the
volume before the screen flickered to what looked like a police
conference room. “Continuing the investigation of the slew of
murders of known Baron Ninety-Nine gang members with the same
determination as any other murder. The general public will continue
to be under curfew advisement until we have more information. As of
today, based on what evidence we’ve gathered during the course of
our investigation, this department can confirm that the explosion that
occurred in November is the direct cause of this war.”
 My brows rose in surprise, and I pursed my lips thinly as that hectic time
flashed in my mind’s eye. So, Carlyle had a plan when he blew up Pedro
Gonzalez’s warehouse— he used it to cover up what was essentially a
genocide. He’s scary smart when it comes to this kind of thing. Or he’s just
plain scary.
“Valerie.” Speaking up as the police chief continued droning on and on, I
picked up my garlic bread as she hummed softly next to me. “If you weren’t
expressly told about Carlyle, do you think you ever would’ve found out?”
“Of course not, Natasha. Is that what you’re worried about? That this Erik
guy will find out?” Puffing out my lips thoughtfully, I bopped my head side
to side, and Valerie giggled a little as I scrunched up my face. “He’s no
Sherlock Holmes, huh?”
“Yeah, I don’t think he’d ever figure it out by himself. He just doesn’t
think that way. I noticed that he takes everything at face value even when
they’re blatant lies or manipulated stories. Erik doesn’t question anything too
much, which is nice.” Trailing off as our past encounters raced behind my
lids when I blinked, I stuffed my mouth full of spaghetti as Valerie nodded in
understanding. Erik ran with whatever information someone plopped in front
of him. That was how he was conditioned to operate. He’d said it himself that
he basically grew up in the military, and he was a soldier through and
through. He received orders and executed them, and he sure as shit didn’t
question them.
“He’s not a bad guy, he just trusts people too easily. Erik’s partner was
his senior, so now that I think about it, I’m not really that surprised that Erik
followed him despite feeling it was wrong.” Thoughtfulness inflected my
tone, and I inhaled deeply as I set my bowl on the table to take up my wine
glass again. The white liquid swirled so beautiful, and Valerie hummed
around her mouthful in acknowledgment. “I don’t know. The more I see him,
the more I think he’s like me— he got swept up in some shit because he
trusted the wrong person.”
“We were kids, and we trusted our own mom because that’s what you’re
supposed to do, Natasha.” Taking a large gulp of my wine, I drained the
glass, and I grabbed the bottle as I fought a dark scowl. “She’s dead, okay.
You have to let it go.”
“You don’t know shit about it, Val.” My nasty snarl pulled a shocked
gasp from my sister, and I glared hotly at her as venom dribbled from my
tongue. Her eyes widened, but I didn’t feel the need to restrain myself in this
moment. “I can’t let it go, and it doesn’t matter that she’s dead. It doesn’t
even matter that I was the one that pulled the trigger. The only thing that
matters— truly matters— is I don’t forget why I’m so fucked up.”
“That doesn’t mean you’d forget, but maybe you’d find some peace.” A
sharp, scornful, hollow laugh burst from my throat, and Valerie frowned as
she shot me a hard look. “When were you gonna tell me you were having
nightmares again, then?”
Tensing at the accusatory tone, I scoffed loudly, and anger seared through
my chest to overwhelm all my other, even worse, emotions. Valerie held my
gaze firmly, eyes flaring with determination and worry, and I licked my dry
lips as fire seeped from my nostrils.
“I wasn’t going to at all. I dealt with it before, I can deal with it again. I’m
not going to forget, Valerie, and I’m not going to forgive. And I sure as shit
am not going to accept that this is my life, never being able to shake a man’s
hand, let alone . . . ” Trailing off softly, I stood up after a few, terse seconds
to walk to the kitchen, and Valerie didn’t follow me. Lifting the wine bottle
to my lips, I chugged straight out, and my eyes ached as the last two years of
my life flashed behind my tightly shuttered lids.
Valerie and I partied a lot, and it was only in that setting that I could bear
being touched. Raves were the farthest thing from a dusty, crumbly house or
barn, and there was no way to hear anything over the pumping music. I didn’t
have to listen or see anything, and it helped.
But outside of that alcohol-strengthened bubble, I couldn’t. Slapping Erik
in the face was the closest I’d gotten to touching a man in any way in almost
thirteen years.
Shaking my head viciously, I grabbed a piece of garlic bread and leaned
back against the counter to take a few calming breaths. When I walked back
into the living room, Valerie glanced up at me with bleary eyes, and a frown
dragged down the corners of my mouth.
“Don’t, okay, just . . . don’t.” Offering the piece of bread, I rubbed my
face hard when my sister took it, and I dropped onto the sofa to take a swig of
wine and sigh heavily. “I’m sorry for yelling, Valerie.”
“I’m sorry, too, Nat.” Leaning her head on my shoulder, Valerie nibbled
her crusty bread with a little sniffle and I folded my legs under me as my
stomach roiled dangerously.
14

Natasha
Stepping to the side to let Erik in, I quietly shut the door behind him, and he
turned to me to block out the light streaming down from the ceiling fixture.
My heart stuttered, and the blood drained from my face as he slowly, very
visibly, brought up powerful, muscle-roped arms to brace his hands on either
side of my head. Tension gripped me in a vice, and I couldn’t breathe beyond
the dense lump in my throat.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I stiffened when Erik reached to touch my
chin, the faintest whisper of the flat of his finger. He slowly leaned back, and
a ringing grew louder and louder in my ears as the silence stretched. What the
fuck was that for?
Now, Erik just stood there, watching, waiting, and anxiety curdled my gut
as panic sloshed in my chest. My lungs screamed shrilly for air, and black
spots assaulted my vision as I froze. The moment slid by on pins and needles,
and goosebumps blanketed my skin as frigid, icy prickles strafed my spine.
Blinking hard, I snapped out of my daze somehow, and I gulped down the
hard ball blocking my airway to wheeze a breath through my nose. Erik
didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t anything, and I somehow managed to bend
my knees enough to shuffle down the hallway. My wheezes filled the living
room, and I craned my neck and tangled my fingers in my hair as the black
spots edging my vision closed in. My heart threatened to squeeze through my
ribs, throbbing painfully with the force of its beats, and my blood reduced to
a thick sludge that barely moved in my veins.
I could feel Erik glaring at me as I practically threw myself onto the sofa.
I could feel it on my skin how much he wanted to touch me, but he refrained.
Labored breaths gradually got deeper once I was on my back, and my fading
vision started to return to blur the popcorn on the ceiling.
“Shit . . . shit . . . ” Croaking hoarsely, I flung my arm heavily over my
eyes, and my legs spasmed from the tightness that wrapped around my spine.
My episode slammed into me so hard, so fast, that I couldn’t even panic, and
it disappeared just as abruptly. In my dazed mind, I felt the cushion beyond
my feet dip, and I rolled onto my side to pull my knees to my chin.
Struggling to breathe, I shivered as the tension seeped from my body, and the
ringing died down as blood drumming began to louden and replace it.
“I hoped it wouldn’t be that bad.” Finally, after what seemed like an
eternity, Erik spoke up, and I winced as his gruff tone grated my brain. A
cold sweat slicked my skin, and I rolled my eye in its socket to glare at him
weakly. His face showed everything he was feeling, and there I saw sadness
and shame and anger despite the blur of my tears. “Does that happen any time
someone touches you, Natasha?”
“I don’t let anyone touch me.” My rasp only tightened the scowl tucked
in his goatee, and he leaned back against the sofa carefully. Sniffling hard, I
pushed myself onto weak arms and dragged myself farther away, and I
panted hoarsely with the effort. “Why? Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t think it would be that bad.” That wasn’t a good answer, but I
knew it was the only Erik had. Frowning, my lips twitched uncontrollably,
and I raked my hands through my hair roughly. “Did you remember, or—”
“Not anymore. It . . . it just happens . . . whenever . . . ” Licking my dry
lips heavily, I shook my head a little, and Erik’s expression darkened out of
the corner of my eye. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I stared at the
coffee table blankly as emptiness invaded my mind. “So . . . that happened.”
“You know what happened that made my dad send me to a juvenile
military school?” Casting Erik a dull look at the sudden change of subject, I
shook my head again, and he tapped his fingers against the armrest as
memories played in his eyes. “I shot some kid with a paintball gun right in
the chest. I’m a really, really good shot, even back then. I wasn’t a small kid,
but this other kid had like a hundred pounds on me or something. I was tall
and skinny, and he picked on me because he was fat and self-conscious.”
“What happened?” Sniffing to unclog my nose, I reached a trembling
hand to wipe my face, and a strange sense of complacency settled heavily on
my shoulders. “He bullied you?”
“Oh, fuck, did he ever.” Stroking his goatee with his free hand, Erik shot
me a sly look, but there was no smirk to accompany it. “I went to shit school
in Virginia because my dad was stationed in Norfolk. This kid, his name was
James, but everyone called him Jimmy Johns because all he did was eat shitty
sandwiches. Anyway, his father was always deployed, his mom was
unhappy, and he acted out a lot. In a place like that, it’s not something that
makes you special. You don’t get special treatment or anything because a lot
of kids’ parents were deployed. I knew this one girl who lived with her
grandparents because both her parents were in the Navy.”
“That seems irresponsible.” Erik only shrugged at my mumble, and I
closed my eyes as he took a breath in preparation. The demons that strained
at the bit around the edges of my consciousness kept at bay by his voice, and
a tiny ember of relief lit under my heart.
“Maybe. Back to the story. Jimmy was a huge kid, so he threw his weight
around— literally. He’d knock me into lockers and push me in gym and shit
like that. Everyone hated him, and he didn’t know how to handle the fact that
no one liked him because he was a dick, so he acted like more of a dick. One
day, he took my lunch that my mom made— I’ll never forget it. It was a roast
beef sandwich with spicy mustard. They were my favorite. Jimmy took it and
ate the whole thing in, like, four bites, and I was fucking pissed. I left school
and no one even noticed, and I got my paintball gun. I only lived a block
from the school. Lunch hadn’t even ended by the time I got back, and I shot
him square in the center of his chest at seventy-five yards as he was walking
to the bathroom. That’s impressive for a twelve-year-old and a paintball
gun.”
“Did you get suspended?” He snorted, waving his hand in dismissal, and
a glimmer of curiosity sparked in my chest. “What happened when he tattled
on you?”
“I got expelled, but so did he, so I wasn’t bitter. Also, my dad wasn’t
even mad at that point. He was looking for a reason to stick my ass in a youth
cadet program at that point. He didn’t make enough money, so he had to get a
recommendation, and viola. Jimmy died from undiagnosed diabetes when he
was sixteen, and I learned how to shoot at two thousand meters.” My lip
quirked up at how proud he sounded, and it beamed in his eyes as he settled
deeper into the sofa and crossed his knees leisurely. “I graduated at
seventeen, like I said, but 9/11 had just happened, so I got my last three
credits postponed until I got back from my first deployment.”
“When I was twelve, my dad witnessed a murder and got put in witness
protection for a year, and they staged his death and everything. That’s what
we thought, that he was dead. My mom was already an addict at that point—
really, really bad. I was already this way, too. Valerie’s younger than me by
six minutes, so it was my job to take care of her.” Gazing at Erik steadily, I
rubbed my head with the butt of my palm as an ache sprung behind my eyes.
“It wasn’t so bad when I told myself that. Sometimes, I even managed to
convince myself that I liked it, you know. I got some money, and it’s not like
it hurt anymore. One time, one of the guys gave me a bracelet. I pawned it for
sixty bucks. That’s a lot for . . . that’s a whole week of food.”
“But then he got really mad when I didn’t wear it.” Fisting my hair taut, I
tugged gently as icy prickles invaded my chest, and dread churned my
stomach. “He grabbed my hair. I don’t know why, but it didn’t hurt. Maybe, I
was used to that, too. They weren’t gentle . . . and they laughed a lot for some
reason. That ugly, gross laugh, like they were disgusted with me and mocking
me, and they were great, and I was dirt.”
“You never went to the police?” A scoff of a void laugh burst from my
throat, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I shook my head
viciously. “Why not?”
“That’s a stupid question. CPS is the worst thing ever.” There were no
words to describe how much I hated CPS and everything they stood for, and I
sniffed a shallow breath. Erik frowned but didn’t open his mouth to protest,
and I blinked blearily. “Let’s cook something. I’m hungry.”
“Natasha—" I unfurled myself to climb off the sofa, and Erik bit back his
words as I headed around the table and into the kitchen. Leaning my arms on
the edge of the sink, I glared at the drain, and those ravenous dogs threatened
to eat away at my brain if I kept talking. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I
took a few, stabilizing breaths and sniffled before straightening my shoulders.
15

Erik
“Okay, no offense, but you should start keeping a case of beer in here if this
is gonna be an every other night thing.” Frowning as I closed the refrigerator
door, I held a bottle of tequila up as Natasha paused what she was doing to
look at me. “I’ve never even heard of this brand of tequila.”
“My sister brought it back from France.” She shrugged, her nose
crinkling slightly, and I glanced down at the bottle through narrowed eyes. “I
don’t really like it— it’s kinda spicy. If you wanted beer, you should’ve
brought some yourself. I don’t drink beer. I prefer white wine.”
“I can tell.” My gaze trailed to the tall, slim wine cooler on the counter,
its six racks full of various bottles, but I tried not to judge. “I’ll bring a six-
pack next time, then.”
Nodding hesitantly, Natasha went back to deveining her shrimp, and I
stuck the bottle back in the fridge as my mind churned. What was I even
doing here? She’d asked me to come over, but why? If she wanted to torture
me with her story, it’d be a lot easier to do it through the bug, and she knew I
would listen.
It wasn’t as if we really talked while we cooked, or when Natasha cooked
and I just pretended to know something of what I was supposed to do.
“I like to cook. It clears my head. I wanted to go to culinary school, but
it’s such a high stress job, and you’re not going to get any easy work. I like to
cook on my own terms.” Breaking the silence, Natasha tossed a shrimp into
the bowl beside her, and I wandered over to watch her, but not too close. She
picked out the vein from the head and ripped the rest out so easily, with
practiced movements, and she glanced over at me warily. “Want to try?”
“Your fingers are a lot thinner than mine— I’d probably squish the
shrimp.” Holding up my palm, I curled my fingers absently, and a small,
noiseless scoff escaped me. “I never had to cook. I was too busy learning
how to be a good, little tin man.”
Surprise caught my breath when Natasha held her hand over mine, not
touching but close enough to prickle against my palm, and my cheek twitched
in agitation. Her fingers were so slender, her nails perfectly oval and shiny
from shrimp slime, and I could fold them under my first knuckles. Time
seemed to stop when I glanced up to find her big, brown eyes on mine, and
my gut tightened when she pursed her lips thinly under loosely knit brows.
“You have big hands.” The murmur caressed up my jaw, and the hairs in
my ears bristled even as a shadow passed through her eyes. “Not like them.”
My lip curled up in a slight snarl when Natasha looked down, and needles
stuck up my arm in waves when she touched her pointer finger to the middle
of my palm. Her breath hitched loudly, lower lip quivering as she sucked it
between her teeth, and her cheeks paled a few shades. A dazed expression
swept across her face, like she didn’t mean to but couldn’t take it back, and I
ground my teeth hard. So soft, her fingertip glided up over my knuckles and
the callouses I’d built up over years and years of gloves and guns and knives.
The moment was surreal, how something so ordinary and inconsequential
could be so important.
“It feels good.” Natasha’s eyelids fluttered closed, and tension throbbed
against the metal plate in my chest as my heart raced furiously. Gunk from
the shrimp followed her touch, and I held my breath as I took her hand,
acutely aware of how she immediately stiffened, the intense shift in the
atmosphere. Placing her palm on my chest, I caught her wide, glazed eyes
when they popped open, and she gulped nervously.
I saw it flicker in her eyes— her pupils tightening, her irises flashing
black— and Natasha pulled her hand away with a hiss. Turning to the
counter, she ducked her head to hide behind her hair, and I wanted to say
something as her touch lingered, burning through my t-shirt. Covering her
mouth with the back of her hand, she sniffed hard, and I almost winced at the
harshness of the sound.
“U-um, yeah. Yeah, you . . . you’re probably right. Um, c-can you just . . .
go over there.” Her voice trembled and sputtered, and I walked the short
distance to the table to drop into a chair. Gazing at my palm, my mind
scattered, I could only barely remember to breathe as awkwardness rested
heavily on my shoulders. “H-ha-ha.”
“It’s okay, Natasha.” Tearing my eyes off my palm, a frown marred my
face at the tight, high set of her shoulders, and she flipped her hair a little
with a strangled sound. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No . . . n-no . . . I-I’m gonna . . . maybe Illya can come over. Her
boyfriend was a Marine . . . yeah.” Still hiding her face, Natasha rushed out
of the kitchen before I could stop her, and I inhaled a huge, heavy breath
through flared nostrils and held it. My knee bounced furiously, and I
drummed my fingers on my jeans as I flopped my head back to exhale hot,
stale air.
Is she really gonna call her friend at two a.m.? Is her friend really gonna
show up? Grimacing at the questions circling in my head, I clenched and
released my jaw in aggravation. Does she not feel safe? Did I fuck up without
even realizing I was fucking it up?
“You know, you don’t have to worry about it, Natasha. I’ll head out. It’s
pretty late, anyway.” Speaking loudly, I stood up, and Natasha was pacing
the living room with her phone tightly clutched in her hand. She paused, head
whipping up to stare at me through apprehensive eyes, and I nodded firmly.
“It’s okay. I should head home anyway.”
“No, you can stay, Erik.” Holding out her palms, Natasha seemed like she
was pushing away rather than buckling down, and I frowned under furrowed
brows. “Don’t leave.”
My palms tingled wildly, and I pursed my lips thinly as Natasha
continued her pacing, rubbing the back of her neck with her free palm. There
was no argument I could make, and she glanced at her phone anxiously as she
grumbled to herself. She dialed a number, holding the phone to her ear and
ignoring me completely, and awkwardness slithered up and down my spine.
“Hey! Hey, can you come down here really quick, okay? Please.” Relief
slumped her shoulders, and Natasha nodded with a slight smile on her face.
Stuffing my hands in my pockets to hide my clenched fists, I rolled my
shoulders as the silence settled. This was undoubtedly the most
uncomfortable situation I’d ever been in with a woman. This was worse than
when I got hazed for being deployed on a ship a virgin. And that I never lived
down. But this . . .
“Natasha! Natasha!” Finally, she stopped her pacing and looked at me,
eyes widening at the slight rise in my voice, and I didn’t bother hiding my
frown. “Natasha, you don’t have to wake someone up. We’ll just pick up
later where we leave off now. Why are you so anxious?”
Hope budded in my chest when it seemed, for a second, that she heard
me, but it was gone just as quickly at the soft knock on the door behind me.
Natasha jumped with a little squeak, and I sighed hotly through my nose as
she skirted a safe distance around me. Seating myself on the sofa, my knee
bounced, and the same girl that was with Natasha at CVS shuffled into the
room.
 Illya had obviously been sleeping, and she paused when she saw me
under heavy lids. Rubbing her orange locks, confusion flickered on her long
face, and I scowled darkly when her slender brows rose high and sharp.
“What are you doing here? Natasha, what’s he doing here?” So, no one
knows I’m here . . . except Carlyle, probably, considering this is his property.
Illya turned to Natasha expectantly, and I bit back a sigh. “Natasha.”
“Come on, we’re making shrimp tacos. I meant to ask you to bring Theo,
but—"
“His arm started hurting. He’ll be down in a little bit.” She sounded so
annoyed, and Illya held Natasha by the shoulders to stare her dead in the face.
Watching them interact was strange— it was almost like they didn’t know
much about each other but were still important to one another somehow.
“Okay, you can’t call us down at two in the morning for tacos. I appreciate
being invited, but I was asleep, and I have a huge workload right now.”
“Sorry.” Natasha cast me a nervous glance, stepping closer to her friend
to mumble something I couldn’t hear, and Illya turned to cast me a startled
look. This was gonna be a long ass night.
16

Natasha
“I’m just saying, I told a lot of lies in California, but that was a long time ago,
Theo. How come you’re still grumpy about it?” The loud giggle that echoed
around the kitchen drew my attention, and I turned as I lifted my wine glass
to my lips. Illya sat on Theo’s lap, just as tipsy as me, and she poked him in
the chest as envy flooded my own. “What would foster care do to me at
sixteen, huh? They’d stick my ass in a group home I’d run away from
anyway.”
“I don’t think that’s helping, Natasha.” Tensing when Erik took my glass
from me, I frowned when he downed the rest in one gulp without releasing
my gaze. “Really, you need to slow down.”
“It’s not called ‘liquid courage’ for nothing.” His eyes narrowed at my
slur, and I scrunched up my face as he set my glass on the counter, far away
from me. My gaze slid back to Illya as she drunkenly hung over Theo, and
my cheeks heated as a nasty frown twisted my lips. They looked happy—
everyone was so fucking happy. Illya found someone who accepted her.
Valerie found someone who protected her. What the Hell was so damn wrong
with me that I could only watch and not participate?
“Do you want to go sit down somewhere?” Erik didn’t wait for my mind
to catch up enough to protest, and I tensed when he gingerly wrapped his
mammoth palm around mine. Stiffness gripped my muscles, but his eyes
never wavered from mine as he practically dragged me into the living room.
Sitting on the sofa, I didn’t dare blink, and Erik sat on the edge of the coffee
table to very gently hold my fingers in both his hands. “What happened
earlier? If you didn’t feel safe, you should’ve told me to leave, and I wouldn’t
hold it against you, Natasha.”
Rolling my lips between my teeth, I ducked my head to stare blearily as
Erik rubbed my fingers between his. His hands were rough and work-
hardened, and he touched me with unexpected gentleness. Warmth slithered
up my arm, and the alcohol on my tongue tingled my buds as I inhaled
shallowly to sigh.
“They’re different.” My voice slurred slightly, and my head became
heavy as I licked my lips heavily. “Not so different, though. That’s what
sucks the most— there’s nothing you can do that hasn’t already been done.”
“There’s one thing. Right?” That lifted my eyes, and I followed Erik’s
bulging muscles as they strained when he inhaled deeply. He squeezed my
hand, barely noticeable, and my breath hitched as my gaze snapped down
again. “If there’s one, there has to be more.”
“Oh.“ Holding hands. Humming softly in agreement, I curled my fingers
around his as a wistful, small smile tilted my lips. “You’re right . . . yeah.”
Puffing a hot breath, my head swam as the almost alien notion of content
swept through me, and I closed my eyes again to save it. There was nothing
greater than being close to someone. When was the last time a guy took my
hand instead of going right to my hip? The raves and pulsing, drug-fueled,
alcohol-crazed parties I went to before . . . everyone was trying to score.
“It’s so stupid.” My murmur knocked my head back a little, and I glanced
up under heavy lashes as Erik pursed his lips over a tense set of his jaw. “It
was a good idea at the time.”
“I’m sure it was. I’m surprised your liver isn’t dead by now.” Snorting a
little giggle, I sniffled hard, and boozy flames licked up my cheeks at the
gravity dragging down his features. “Nat, you can’t keep living like this. I
don’t know how much of this you’ll remember in the morning, but you have
to let go or it’ll eat you alive.”
“Your opinion isn’t so bad sometimes.” Blinking blearily, I pulled a face
as I sat up straight, and my brain banged against my forehead from the
sudden movement. Erik tensed, his grip on me tightening ever so slightly, and
it took me a second to realize someone was knocking on the front door.
Standing up, I almost tripped on Erik’s boot, and our contact broke when I
held my hands out to stabilize myself.
Valerie and Carlyle stood on the other side of the door, and my eyes
widened in surprise as she cast me a mock, stern look. Neither of them
looked like they’d slept a wink yet, still in their clothes from yesterday, and I
scrunched up my face as my sister crossed her arms over her chest.
“Why weren’t we invited, huh?” My mouth dried, and I stammered a
little in my drunken stupor as my brain struggled to catch up. Stepping to the
side, I could only nod as words failed me, and my heart strained against my
ribs. “You didn’t put any music on or anything?”
Posing the question as she breezed past, Valerie pulled her hair over her
shoulder, and I shook my head dumbly. Carlyle cast me a frown, his brow
creased in what I dared suggest was worry, but I ducked my head to hide my
own frown as sourness invaded my mouth. Shutting the door slowly, my
mind went into overdrive, and I wiggled my fingers by my sides as Valerie
went straight to the kitchen to pick at the leftover tacos.
“I thought you two would be busy banging to want to come down and eat
my food.” My voice sounded different even to me compared to a few seconds
ago, and I leaned on the entryway to the kitchen to frown. My sister tinged
pink, whipping around to glare at me, and I grinned broadly. “It’s okay! It’s
okay, seriously. I know you’re not gonna stop slobbering for my amazing
tacos.”
“I don’t know, Natasha, they’re very good.” Valerie squeaked in
embarrassment, swatting Carlyle’s arm, and my grin widened as I nodded. “I
didn’t know if this was going to be a frequent thing, but I can assume it will
be?”
Confusion wrinkled my nose, and Carlyle nodded behind me with a
knowing look. Twisting to catch Erik standing uncomfortably in the living
room, alone, I gasped before gesturing him over. He walked stiffly, and I
could see the caution swirling in his eyes as he gazed steadily at Carlyle.
“Oh . . . oh, right. Yes, um, this is Erik. He’s my . . . he’s my helper.”
Faltering slightly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up when all eyes
were suddenly on me. Carlyle didn’t look the least bit surprised, but Valerie
rushed forward to stick out her hand all happy dandy. Clenching my jaw, I
couldn’t stop myself from smacking away her outstretched palm, and the
atmosphere became deathly still and silent.
Clutching her lose fist to her chest, my sister frowned as bitterness burned
beneath my eyelids, and my heart beat way-y-y too fast. She slunk back,
grabbing my empty wine glass to fill it and take a gulp, and I blinked back
the water in my eyes.
“Natasha, that was mean.” My throat closed, my face threatening to melt
right off from the heat that engulfed me, but from anger or something else, I
didn’t know. This was exactly why I didn’t invite Valerie, and I ignored
Erik’s mumble as it droned far underneath the blood beating in my ears.
“I tell you all the time, don’t be too friendly.” Venom dribbled from my
tongue, and Valerie’s wide eyes met mine as I raked my hand through my
hair viciously. “How come you can’t not be nice, huh? That’s how you get
hurt, Valerie.”
“I just wanted to introduce myself.” Scoffing loudly, I stormed over to
Valerie to grab her shoulders and shake, and she dropped the wine glass with
a shocked gasp. The shattering of glass, I didn’t even hear it, and I squished
her face in both my palms to keep her wide eyes on mine.
“You can’t trust anyone. No one’s going to do anything for you unless
they expect something in return. I tell you all the time! You need to listen to
me! You’re nice one time and . . . and . . . and they think you’re interested in
something you’re not. I said it . . . I said it, but you . . . you’re still stupid and
think not everyone’s bad. Everyone is bad! Valerie, everyone!” She jerked
her head in a nod, her lips pursing as much as they could puffed between my
palms, and I frowned thinly. “No one cares, not even the littlest bit. And if
they do, they’re lying because they want something. Okay? We’ve talked
about this.”
“Natasha?” Reality overlapped with my memories as they became too
powerful, and I smiled slightly as I rubbed Valerie’s face playfully.

“I gotta go. I put your sandwich in the fridge.” Valerie’s face fell in
disappointment, and my heart stammered in my chest as I backed up a
step. “Don’t be sad. I’ll be back in a few hours. You can go to the
Girl’s Club if you want.”
Valerie scowled, her pudgy cheeks tinging red, and I smiled wider
as she threw herself back on the mattress to groan and roll around.
“You know those girls are mean to me, Nat!” Her complaining
pulled a laugh from me even as I pulled on my shoes, and I tied up my
hair before she spoke up again from behind me, “I wish Dad was still
alive. Why do you have to have a job? That’s not even legal.”
“It’s fine. I like the job, right, and that’s important, liking your
job. You should never do something you don’t like.” The lie slipped so
easily off my tongue, and I stood up to cast Valerie one last look. She
was so young, so innocent, worrying about normal stuff and not . . .
And I had to keep her that way. As long as I did what I had to do,
she could be free. Only three more years, and we could get legally
emancipated and leave all of this behind us.
17

Erik
“What’s she talking about, Valerie?” Carlyle’s sharp question wasn’t enough
to slash open the encasement of Natasha’s memories, and an intense sense of
déjà vu hit me square the in the chest. This isn’t the first time she became
delusional.
“I . . . it was right before we . . . right before our fourteenth birthday.”
That must’ve had some significance I didn’t know, and the atmosphere
became even more dreary as Natasha continued caressing her sister’s face.
“What’s happening? She never did this before.”
“Um, actually . . . ” Holding up her hand, Illya drew attention but no eyes,
and I clenched and released my fists by my sides. “This is at least time
number three. That I know of.”
“How do we snap her out of this?” Tension prickled down my spine, and
I shook my head sharply at the snap. No one knew what to do, but flashbacks
weren’t something that could just break. Natasha mumbled to herself
illegibly, and I reached to rub my hands up my face and over my head
roughly. “What happened the last two times, Illya?”
“Uh, we went to CVS, and I said I’d pay when she didn’t bring her
wallet, and Natasha went off about where’d I get the money and to never take
anything from anyone. And the second time, we were hanging out, and she
started telling me that if anything happened to her, to go to Mrs. Greer, and
she’ll help me.”
“Mrs. Greer was our seventh grade teacher. She’s the one who called CPS
anonymously on us.” Valerie’s voice wobbled, and emotions battered my
chest as I watched the scene before me unfold. Very sluggishly, Natasha
gripped Valerie by the hair with both her hands, and the tension in the room
could be cut with a knife. I really doubted Natasha would hurt Valerie,
considering these were memories, but anything was possible during a
psychotic break.
And that, unfortunately, was what this was.
“You’ll be fine without me, Val.” Natasha huffed, pressing her forehead
against Valerie’s even though she stood there, stiff in shock. “I know you’ll
be okay without me.”
This has to stop. Closing the distance between us, I grabbed Natasha’s
hand as I’d been doing a moment ago, and her fingers were ice cold. Buried
in Valerie’s hair, they shivered and flexed, and I pried her fingers open as my
chest tightened as the blank look on her face. Once free, Valerie scrambled
into Carlyle’s arms, but I couldn’t think of anything but Natasha as she
blinked for the first time. The cloudiness in her eyes slowly seeped away, and
I held her hands firmly even as her head snapped back and her shoulders
jerked.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Natasha’s face paled ghostly, her eyes
widening in horror that brimmed her reddening lids. Tearing her gaze off me,
her expression only deepened and darkened when she realized Valerie was
right there. Chapped lips parted but nothing escaped, not even air, before
Natasha walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to slam a door shut.
“What the fuck just happened?” My stalled mind jumpstarted at Theo’s
question to no one and everyone, and I covered my mouth to exhale a shaky
breath through flared nostrils. Emotions tore apart my chest. The desire to go
after Natasha and make sure she wasn’t hurting herself warred with the
knowledge that I might trigger her again. Everything was going great until
Valerie showed up, and I had the nagging, sinking feeling that Natasha knew
she wasn’t holding it together as well as she pretended.
“I’m gonna go check on her.” Leaving the kitchen and the dramatic
atmosphere behind, I walked down the hallway to the only door that wasn’t
slightly ajar. The dismal tendrils that seeped through the cracks and
underneath wrapped around me in a vice, and I grabbed the handle with a
droning buzz in my ears. Holding my breath, my heart thundered the same
way it did before an engagement, and I clenched my jaw hard in preparation.
Natasha sat on her bed, head hung low, a thick comforter around her
shoulders, but the stench of blood was absent, which was good. I think. Not
shutting the barrier in case, I stood at the foot of her bed, and she sniffed hard
as she choked back her cries. In this moment, she looked so pathetic—
nothing at all like the person I’d seen so far. Even in what I thought was her
worst moment, she wasn’t so wretched and pitiful.
“What do you want?” My mouth dried like the damn Sahara, but Natasha
didn’t lift her head. Her hair didn’t so much as ruffle as she croaked the
question. Carefully sitting on the edge of the bed, I rubbed my clammy palms
on my jeans as my mind churned furiously.
 “I just want to be here for you, Natasha.” A hoarse sob slipped out, and
Natasha shook her head so sadly. I had never felt so helpless, not being able
to touch her, not even sure if being in this room was a good idea. Uncertainty
battered my ribs, but I couldn’t leave, now, and I cleared my throat roughly.
“Were you ever properly diagnosed with PTSD?”
“Don’t be stupid, of course n-not.” Sputtering bitterly, Natasha sniffled
hard, and my fingers itched painfully to take hers even as she sighed in
defeat. “It’s getting worse.”
“Yeah, it tends to do that right when you think everything’s going good.”
My gruff reply earned me a snotty gasp, and I glanced around before spying a
box of heavily used tissues on the nightstand. Standing up to grab them, I
flicked on the small lamp to have some light, and I set the box next to
Natasha before sitting back down. “You know, when I was on my second
deployment in the Navy, I shot someone for the first time. We spend a lot of
time on ships, but we dock every once and a while. Everyone gets pretty
wound up being in such tight quarters for so long, so we get a little wild. It’s
a culture, sorta.”
That time seemed so long ago, and the reality of the situation was simple
— twelve years ago, I shot someone. The traumatic part was that I didn’t feel
bad about it.
“They say your first kill sticks with you, but we were in Yemen, and they
were in the middle of a war. The first person I ever killed was a woman
aiming a rocket launcher out of a blasted-out building’s window.” Finally,
Natasha lifted her head, and her tear-stricken face burned bright red in the
low light cutting through the gloom. My cheek twitched in agitation, and I
inched my hand over the sheet palm up, just in case. “I lifted my rifle and
shot her right in the head. I barely even registered that I did it at the time. The
rocket exploded inside the house, and it went crumbling down. I think the
noise of that building collapsing was worse than actually killing her.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Reaching my free hand to rub the
back of my neck, I could only shrug half-heartedly, and Natasha’s raw
expression turned scornful.
“It doesn’t. Not really. That’s the thing, though, Natasha. You’re right
about no one doing anything for nothing. People do things for others for their
own satisfaction, for blackmail, for control, for whatever reason. There’s
millions of ways to rationalize it. Sometimes, though, there’s a few easy
answers that aren’t so painful.” Her disgust darkened, the shadows playing
off her profile when she shook her head in denial, and I nodded firmly.
“Sometimes, helping people feels good. Sometimes, just being compassionate
brings enough satisfaction. Pushing and shoving to feel power over someone
else . . . that’s not me. I know words don’t matter, but I would never use your
experiences against you, Natasha.”
“Everything I did, it was all for no reason . . . in the end.” Natasha fell
forward, as if admitting that, whatever it was, was the final straw, and her
cold cheek seared my palm. Wine-soaked breath wafted up my wrist, but she
only sucked in a shuddering, unstable breath that ended in a hiccup. Rolling
my jaw, I cupped my chin with my free hand to stroke my beard, and even in
an emotionally dead sleep, her tears streamed between my fingers.
Now what was I going to do?
18

Natasha
Turning off the showerhead with a sharp twist, I leaned on the warm tile to
heave a hot, wet breath. Forcing my eyes open, water dripped off my
eyelashes, and I pushed open the curtain to step out of the shower. Steam
billowed around my ankles, and my toes flexed against the mat as I grabbed
my towel and wrapped it around myself. My headache ad dulled in the hour
or so I spent being pounded by scalding water, and I inhaled deeply, steadily.
“I obviously didn’t drink enough.” My tongue stuck to the roof my
mouth, and I frowned an ugly frown as despair clung to my insides like bad
fried food. Stepping out of the bathroom, I headed to my room to change into
clothes I’d already picked out for the day. The world turned around me in
slow motion, matching my sluggish movements, and I closed the door behind
me to start drying my hair.
The secret was out, the whistle was blown, and I climbed into my panties
and snapped my bra before my energy ran out. Sitting on my bed, I toweled
my hair with heavy arms and stared at a distant carpet fiber that was a tiny bit
longer than the ones around it.
Why did Valerie have to ruin everything? And it wasn’t her fault or
anything, but I didn’t invite her because I didn’t want her here. My sister was
a living, breathing reminder that my life was fucking worthless! Everything I
did was useless and futile in the end, and I couldn’t take a step forward
without taking three steps back. Looking at her face, so happy and glowing
and insufferable, it made me sick.
Reaching over to grab my shirt, I pulled the fabric slowly over my head
and down my torso as my frown deepened. Valerie, Valerie, Valerie— my
entire life revolved around her, but her life didn’t revolve around me. She
always had friends, or acquaintances, at least, and I had blackout episodes at
vague glances my way.
“What the fuck.” Glancing down at my palm, my eyes narrowed, and my
bitterness only intensified as I flexed my fingers long. “I’m disgusting.”
Shaking my head viciously, I stood up to hop into my jeans, and I pulled
on a pair of socks before leaving my room. The apartment was quiet,
ominously so, and I wandered into the kitchen only to pause. All of the dishes
had been washed and put away, and the counters had been wiped down. The
wine glass that had shattered had been vacuumed up, and its missing spot was
prominent under the cabinet where they were hanging upside down.
“You’re awake.” Twisting as surprise squeezed my heart, I frowned as
Erik lifted himself from the sofa. “Good morning. Or should I say ‘good
afternoon’?”
“Good? Right. Nothing is good.” Nastiness coated my tongue, and Erik
frowned as I scowled at him from across the threshold. “Get out.”
“No.” My pupils blew at the firm baritone that slammed into me, and I
stormed over to rear back my arm. Erik didn’t flinch as fire raced through my
veins, and he didn’t try to dodge my slap before it landed on his hard, taut
cheek. The resounding crack of skin on skin echoed loudly in my ears, and I
banged my fists against his chest as illegibly sounds burst from my throat.
Spittle dribbled down my chin, and my fury only grew when he just stood
there and took my abuse.
Small, boiling hot tears pricked my eyes, and I pushed Erik hard enough
to send myself stumbling back. He still didn’t move, but I panted harshly
with my efforts as shivers rampaged up and down my spine.
If he wanted to get technical, I couldn’t kick Erik out— this was Carlyle’s
apartment, and I was just squatting.
My shriek of frustration rose above the blood drumming in my ears at that
notion. That was right! Valerie, well, she belonged here. She was accepted
here as Carlyle’s live-in girlfriend. Everyone treated her like a part of the
family!
Everyone treated me like the fucked-up cousin that should’ve died a long
time ago. I was the one they reluctantly involved so they didn’t feel bad about
leaving me out.
“Natasha.” No, that’s wrong. They pitied the lies I spun to make them feel
better . . . to hide how bad I am. After all, who would care about me if . . .
“Natasha. Hey.”
Calloused, rough fingertips dragged up my palm, and I blinked as Erik
stretched his arm to reach me. His expression hid nothing, and I sucked in a
sharp breath when he took a small step forward. Broad, muscular shoulders
were straight and relaxed, and his biceps bulged as he reached his other hand
to mine. I had to lift my head to hold his gaze, and the smell of him wafted up
my nostrils when he came within a foot or so of me.
 “You want some breakfast? We’ll cook something together.” My heart
stuttered at the offer, and Erik’s gravelly but soft tone soothed some of the
anger sloshing violently in my chest. “I bet you have a great recipe for French
toast, yeah?”
“Yeah.” The croak burned my raw throat, and he cast me an encouraging
smile as I wiped my mouth and chin and up my face. His hand never left
mine, and the coarse hairs on his knuckles and the back of his palm tickled
my skin. “What . . . what happened after?”
“Everyone left, but I stayed and cleaned up. I didn’t want you to wake up
and hurt yourself, so I couldn’t turn on the tv or anything.” Gulping harshly
at that, I tore my eyes off Erik and stepped back on stiff knees, but he only
tightened his grip on my hands. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m used to sitting
around, waiting, doing absolutely nothing. It was actually kinda nice. There
was one thing. I’m not sure how well you’ll take it, though.”
“What thing?” I could taste him on my tongue when I opened my mouth,
and I leaned forward a little as I posed my question. Erik tensed, and the
bridge of my nose tingled wildly before my forehead touched his chest. His
sternum was hard— really, really hard, like metal plate hard, and I inhaled
deeply through flared nostrils.
“Uh, well . . . Carlyle fired you from your team. He wanted me to let you
know he will have already replaced you by the time you wake up. I didn’t tell
him how much you hated your job— he went that way by himself.”
“Oh.” I might’ve been mad if I wasn’t so fucking relieved, and I sniffled
hard as I let that thought circulate behind my shuttered lids. “Good. That’s
good.”
“I thought it might be. You know, I was thinking— neither of us have a
job, and neither of us are happy here, so why don’t we go on a road trip
together?” Surprise jerked my head back, and Erik smiled a shy, hopeful tilt
of his lips as he shrugged at my raised brows and slack jaw. “I mean, what’s
the worst that’ll happen?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Why? Why . . . what?” Was I still
asleep? Was I dreaming in a fantasy land that’d dissipate into a horrified
nightmare at any second? What the Hell was going on that Erik thought this
was a plausible idea? “Why would we?”
“Why not? We’ll do all sorts of fun shit, and eat a lot of great food. It’s
not like we’re going to find what we’re looking for here, Natasha. You’re
going crazy being stuck in here, being forced to watch everyone around you
have what you can’t have. That’s exactly what you said. And me . . . coming
here was a mistake from the beginning. So, let’s just go. I’m gonna get
kicked out of my house eventually— it was being rented to me by the
department for transplanting, and I quit, so . . . ”
“Why would you think I’d do that with you after what you did?” My head
spun as confusion lilted my tone, and Erik shrugged half-heartedly a second
time. Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth to gnaw under tightly
furrowed brows, I didn’t know what else to say. What was I supposed to say?
Erik and I had known each other a couple of weeks, and I knew that I was
less than impressive right now.
Slowly turning around as the seconds ticked by, I scratched my head
absently as I rounded the kitchen table and opened the refrigerator. My
thoughts popped up like drudges from the muck, and I grabbed the bacon,
eggs and butter with robotic movements.
A road trip, being stuck in a car for hours and hours, jumping highways
and singing awful country music, and sleeping on shitty seats after taking
turns driving. Lots of gas station coffee and granola bars, and a ton of things
to argue about.
That doesn’t sound half bad, actually.
“I’ll think about it.”
19

Natasha
Staring down at the coffee maker as it dribbled a thick, hot, delicious brew, I
gnawed diligently on my bottom lip. Blood drummed steadily in my ears, the
swirling on the counter all blending together as my gaze became unfocused.
My mind was far away, and a ringing invaded my skull, my eyes watering
from the faint urge to blink.
Valerie wasn’t talking to me. She didn’t return my texts or calls, and I
was too much of a coward to go upstairs and knock on the door. Illya was
working— whatever she did, I wasn’t really sure— and Erik had to go to the
precinct for some reason I hadn’t paid attention to.
The droning in my ears loudened, drowning out the coffee pot’s gurgles
as my heart beat harder, faster, squeezing painfully. My blood simmered in
my veins, tension tightening my legs until it hurt, and my abdomen craped as
my breaths became shallow and cold.

“Natasha!” Whipping around, I frowned at the guy leaning over the

passenger seat to yell at me from the road, and he frowned, too.
“What are you doing out so late at night?”
I thinned my lips, tightening my grip on what few groceries I
could afford from that gross, little bodega, but my legs paralyzed with
fear. The guy pulled his junky car over with a metallic squeak of
protest, and my body grew cold when he climbed out. We were almost
the same height, but I was tall for my age, and I didn’t have to tilt my
head too much to watch him round the front of the old two-door.
“Need a ride? I’m passing by your place.” My mind screamed at
me to say ‘no’, to drop my stuff and run, but this guy knew where I
lived anyway. A cold sweat dripped down my neck and I mutely shook
my head when my voice clogged my throat. He popped open the door
anyway, his short, powerful arms rippling under the hem of his t-shirt.
“Hop in.”
“I’m fine walking.” Managing just that, my nerves clearly rippled
in my voice, and the guy’s eyes narrowed on me. Shrinking back when
 he closed the distance between us, I tensed when he grabbed my
meager, black bags and gestured to his car.
Anxiety curdled my blood, mingling with defeat as I shuffled to the
open door, and I held my breath. The car reeked of weed and my face
grew hotter the longer I didn’t breathe. Shutting me in, the guy
climbed in the driver’s seat to set my stuff by his feet, holding it
hostage, and I inched closer to the door.
“So, your mom knows you’re out this late?” Pulling smoothly
away from the curb, he posed his question and glanced at me as I
shook my head. “Where’s your sister?”
“She’s at her friend’s.” The lie rolled off my tongue thickly and he
nodded as prickles raced up my spine. Valerie wasn’t at her friend’s
house, of course, but I had to make her seem more trouble than she
was worth. The more people she was friends with, the more likely it’d
be discovered. At least, that was my hope— that they’d think she was
too risky.
“Maybe you can do a little something for me and I’ll give you a
little extra. It’s not fair that you do all the work and your mom gets
the money. She doesn’t even use it for your place. How about we
make a deal? You do for me, and I’ll do for you— on the side.” My
tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as the blood drained from my
face, and I stared hard at the ripped cloth on the dashboard. The guy
rifled through my bags absently, and shame tightened my chest.
“That’s a lot of junk food. When was the last time you ate a carrot,
huh? Tell you what— I’ll take you to a real store and get you
whatever you want. Just to be nice. You can think about it, and the
next time I’m by, we can talk about it.”
“Just to be nice.” And then, he patted my thigh, and pushed back
my hair, and—

“Nat—" Jumping at the call, goosebumps blanketed my body and my

head whipped up the sent a sharp ache down my neck. Tensing as Carlyle sat
on my table, his feet planted firmly on a chair, I sucked in a sharp breath as
black dots clung to the edges of my vision. Propping his forearms on his
knees, he held my gaze in an iron grip, and I blinked hard as uncertainty
chattered my molars. “You want to talk?”
“N-no . . . no, I don’t. I . . . ” Shaking my head viciously, I tore my eyes
off him to cross my arms tightly around myself, and shame engulfed my face.
The tiles on the floor moved even though they weren’t supposed to, and I
shivered from the anxiety that gripped my spine. “Shit.”
“Do you need to be hospitalized?” Sinking to the floor, I sat against the
cabinets and shook my head, but Carlyle was clearly unconvinced if his tone
was anything to go by. “I didn’t ask if you want to, Natasha. You need help,
whether you like it or not. As much as I appreciate that you’re Valerie’s
sister, I really don’t have time to deal with your mental instability. Mateo is
setting up in New York City, and with Oran disappeared, I’m starting the
Italian plan over from scratch. I’m not going to come whenever you call. If
you need it, I’ll provide you better care than you had last time.”
“Oran had the right idea.” Not acknowledging Carlyle’s little spiel, I
sniffled hard as I drew my knees to my chin. “This place is suffocating. I . . .
I asked you to come down because . . . I want to leave. Erik asked me on a
road trip, and I want to go.”
“Why do you think you need my permission? You’re an adult, and you’ve
never been a prisoner here, Natasha.” Carlyle’s eyes narrowed on me as he
trailed off, and I frowned against my knees. “Valerie doesn’t know?”
“She’s not talking to me. I’m only here for her, and if she’s ignoring me,
there’s really no point. Besides, if I end up dead somehow, I’d rather she
didn’t know for a while.” Despair thickened my voice, and my gaze flickered
up to catch Carlyle’s as he tensed noticeably. “If it gets too bad, I don’t want
her to stop me. I don’t want her to think she could’ve stopped me. You know,
Carlyle, she’s never gone this long without talking to me. To be honest, I
don’t care if she’s hurt or feeling betrayed or whatever about what happened.
She has that luxury.”
“If you’re suicidal, I’ll take precautions.” A small, pitiful smile tilted my
lips at that, and Carlyle frowned darkly as he leaned back to hold himself on
his arms. His fingertips drummed heavily on the table, and I cleared my
throat roughly of the dense lump that blocked my airway.
“You being here is the precaution. You’re here so you can tell Valerie
that you tried to offer me help, and I declined, so it’s not your responsibility.
It’s okay. I know how it is. The truth is . . . Valerie will be fine. She’ll be sad,
but what can she do? Blame you because you’re dating and rich and why
didn’t you? No, that’s not gonna happen. I wanted to talk to you because I
wanted you to know, but I don’t want you to tell Valerie. If she doesn’t ask
me directly, you can’t tell her.” Carlyle’s expression pinched, but he jerked
his head in a nod regardless, and a weight lifted from my chest. Heaving a
massive sigh, I grabbed the counter to climb to my feet, and he was still as I
grabbed the coffee pot in a trembling hand. “I spent almost fifteen years
sacrificing for her, and she’s fucking ignoring me. Over what? Over the fact
that I’m keeping my problem to myself? Is she so betrayed that she can’t
stand the sight of me? Well, it’s not anything new— I can’t stand the sight of
me, either.”
“Natasha, Valerie isn’t the source of all your bitterness and self-hatred,
and I think you know that.” Snorting roughly, I poured my joe into a large
mug, and some spilled and sloshed over the edge to splatter on the
countertop. Disgust soured my tongue, and I sniffed hard as I jerked my head
and swiped my hair away from my face with my free hand.
“Of course, I do. I’m me. But you know what, Carlyle? I don’t know
anything about myself. You probably know more about me than I do. Okay,
so I have two choices. Either I find a way to accept that I’m a disgusting,
emotionally stunted, terrified thing.” Tightening my grip on the coffee pot
handle, my lip curled as dark determination seared through my chest, and
Carlyle’s stare became heavy. Glaring at my reflection in the mug, I ground
my teeth together as black seeped into the edges of my vision. “Or I don’t
accept it, and at that point, there’s no use living anymore. Death is only
painful for those left behind and even then . . . I’ll be dead. It won’t be my
problem.”
“You have a point.” Reluctance deepened his baritone, and Carlyle sighed
heavily before shuffling to get his feet on the floor. “I won’t tell Valerie, but
if she comes to you, you should, Natasha.”
“She won’t.” The air became frosty at my murmur, and Carlyle didn’t say
anything more before walking out. Grabbing my burning hot mug, I frowned
at my reflection before lifting it to my lips.
20

Erik
“Donald, what’s going on?” Casting a curious glance at my former boss, I
leaned on the doorframe to cross my arms as he held up a hand and continued
talking on the phone. Ignoring the conversation, I tilted my head as quiet
determination permeated the entire squad room. The detectives I’d barely
gotten to memorize the names of were all hunched over their desks, and
confusion furrowed my brows. This city had a sizeable police force but not
nearly as many detectives. There wasn’t much crime here to investigate,
probably thanks to Carlyle Santino.
“Erik, come on in. Sorry about that.” Donald set the phone on the receiver
to stand, holding out his hand, and I nodded as he shot me a stress-wrinkled,
tired smile. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. There was a
murder last night. So, you’re here for . . . what, exactly? Your last check
should’ve been deposited already.”
“Uh, yeah, no. I came by because I was wondering what day, exactly,
you’re going to kick me out of that rental.” Understanding flickered in
Donald’s eyes as he sat down, and I gripped the back of the chair across his
desk to lean on it slightly. “I’m gonna head back down south for a bit. My
parents want me to come see them and stuff. I figured that since I was
jobless, I might as well.”
“Good . . . good . . . I don’t blame you for having a bad taste in your
mouth after what happened, Erik. It’s even better that this is kinda a
backwater, so we can bend the rules a little when it comes down to it. That’s
a good thing about being in the shadows of New York City, at least.” Typing
away as he talked, Donald squinted at the computer screen, and I ground my
teeth lightly in anticipation. Once I knew the date of the eviction, I could let
my father know when to expect the truck with my shit in it. “It says here
you’re accommodation will be terminated on the twenty-sixth.”
“Oh, that’s convenient. I’m actually planning to be in South Caroline
around then.” Honestly, there wasn’t much of a plan, and Natasha hadn’t
even agreed out loud to go along with this insane idea. Donald nodded with a
grunt, leaning back in his chair, and I tapped the pleather of my own before
speaking up again. “That’s all I wanted to know, really. I’m heading to the
gym, now, but this is on the way.”
“I hope you find something that fits, Erik. You deserve it.” Nodding as a
slight awkwardness wiggled between my shoulder blades, I turned to walk
out of the precinct. I hadn’t been around long enough for anything to feel
familiar, but the sensation was strange. I might not ever be back here, and the
relief that knowledge brought me was indescribable.
My cell phone pinged loudly in the lobby, and I fished the thing out of
my pocket to scan Natasha’s text message. Even this way, somehow, she
came off as a little desperate, agreeing with only two words: I’ll go. Nodding
to myself, I stepped into the frigid ugliness of late winter and pulled my
collar up against the wind.
Erik: Awesome. Do you want to meet up for lunch later?
Truth be told, I didn’t understand how things had progressed from me
being the bad guy to this. Ours was a relationship born of desperation— if
‘relationship’ could even be the term to use. Natasha was sick, and I hesitated
to really see her as someone healthy and available. She swung wildly
between acting okay to the point that even she believed it and incredible
despair and suicidal ideation.
I knew that, more than likely, Natasha had some truly good days, but
those were few and far between, and I had yet to see one for myself.
Hopefully, with a change of scenery, she’d get a little better. She wasn’t tied
down by a bad employment decision, and I knew that her sister wasn’t
talking to her. These past few days, she hadn’t slept at all, but she didn’t
invite me back over, either.
A couple of times a night, Natasha would talk through the bugged jacket
at me, as if she needed to release some pressure. Everything she alluded to
was horrific, and I was ashamed to say I’d developed some sort of morbid
fascination with her story.
My phone pinged again, tearing me from my thoughts, and I swiped
around on the screen as I pulled out my keys to twirl them around my finger.
Natasha: What are you doing right now?
“Well, I guess I’m not going to the gym.” Texting her back that I was
available, my brows furrowed in consternation when she replied instantly.
She suggested meeting at the coffee place, and I typed a quick affirmative
before climbing into my car. Pulling out of my spot easily, I turned onto the
street to drive the two blocks to my destination. Surprise twitched my brows
when I saw Natasha already standing by the door when I passed, and she
lifted a hand to stop me on the curb.
Confusion masked my face when she hopped in the back seat, not the
passenger seat, and I flexed my hands around the wheel. Her hair fluffed
from the wind, a cold rosiness in her cheeks, and she clung close to the door
as I waited on bated breath for her to speak.
“Um, hi. So, did you go to the precinct?” Natasha sputtered a little, and I
arched a brow quizzically as I caught her eye in the rearview mirror. Her face
stained red, and she brushed back her hair to pull it over her shoulder as
anxiety sparkled in her eyes. “What?”
“Why are you sitting back there?” I hadn’t pulled off the curb yet, and
Natasha went a little wide-eyed as her face pinched. “I’m not going to make
you sit in the front.”
“Oh, good, yeah. I take a lot of Lyfts and stuff. It’s a habit.” I could
practically taste the lie in her tone, but I didn’t question her further. “I didn’t
get a car when we moved here because we lived within blocks of everything,
so— but, anyway, I thought that maybe we could . . . hang out.”
“What do you want to do?” Warmth suffused my chest when Natasha’s
deer-in-the-headlights look intensified, and I turned my attention to the street.
There was so much under that thick veil of dissatisfaction, and she probably
knew it. She didn’t know how to get out of the hole that she’d been thrown
in. Content to just drive around slowly, I took a turn that led into another
turn, and the irony of it didn’t escape me. I was going around in circles with
her, and I wasn’t sure how this happened to play out this way.
Was Natasha craving something so badly that I seemed like a good guy,
even after bugging her when she was all fucked up? Did she somehow
manage to rationalize it away as ‘if he thought he could use me, it means he
cares in some capacity’?
How messed up is that? And considering the shitstorm that got kicked up .
..
“Actually . . . ” Speaking up absently, I glanced in my driver’s side mirror
before taking the second turn, and Natasha hummed softly from the back
seat. “Everyone was busy at the station, so I asked my questions and left. It
wasn’t anything grand. What about you, Natasha? What were you doing
out?”
“I was getting coffee, but there was a really long line.” Glancing at her in
the rearview, I pursed my lips at the drawn expression on her face. Natasha
looked so uncomfortable, and she hugged the door like she could jump tuck
and roll at any second. “I talked to Carlyle this morning since Val . . . she’s
ignoring me. I think she’s hurt because I didn’t tell her how bad I was getting.
I mean, I don’t get it. Why would she feel betrayed and not hound me for
answers?”
“Maybe, she needs time to find the right questions.” Spouting out some
shit, my lips twitched down at the sudden dip in her voice, and Natasha
frowned fully before I turned my gaze back to the road. “I honestly don’t
know, either. I only met her the once, but from what I saw . . . you lie to her a
lot more than she realized.”
“Yeah, well, there’s things she doesn’t tell me, so . . . ” I had a nagging
feeling Natasha was about to launch into a rant about how she wasn’t
obligated to speak her every emotion to her sister. Bracing myself when she
took a breath in preparation, I tightened my grip on the wheel.
And she didn’t prove me wrong.
21

Natasha
“I don’t think you’re being unreasonable, but all lies aren’t equal lies, Nat.
Lying about your PTSD is a lot worse than lying about hanging around all
day in your pajamas and being lazy.” Erik’s words sunk deep into my mind,
and I slumped in the seat as I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. “So,
what did Carlyle say?”
“Um, he asked me if I thought I needed to be hospitalized. But I really
think that a change of scenery will help a lot.” My lips thinned as Erik caught
my gaze in the rearview mirror and held it, and I slid down deeper until my
chin pressed against my sternum. “So, I want to try it, at least, before . . . ”
“Okay. Do you want to get, like, a map, a real physical map, and we can
sit somewhere and figure out all the places we want to go?” I nodded dumbly,
and Erik tore his eyes off me to focus on the road as he weaved through
downtown toward the suburbs. “Have you ever used a map before?”
“I’ve used Google Maps.” He smirked a little at my grumble, and my face
flushed as embarrassment closed my throat. “You use a lot of maps in the
military?”
“Well, you have to know how to read one, but it’s mostly GPS. The only
time you really use a map in the traditional sense is for training exercises so if
shit goes FUBAR, you can get to where you need to go without it.” That
really made no sense, and Erik chuckled lightly at my furrowed brows before
I sat up a little. “Basically, you read the map, know where on it you’re
supposed to be at what time, and the best way to get back in one piece. One
time, during an exercise, my team and I got dropped in this jungle in
Venezuela, and Ben . . . ”
Cutting himself off abruptly, Erik’s whole face closed in on itself and
became stony, and I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. For a moment,
the tense silence threatened to suffocate me, but he sucked in a sharp breath
and shook his head as my heart jumped into my throat.
“Ah, my best friend, Ben. Nathan and Ben were brothers, and Nathan was
the oldest and also our team leader person. After our last mission in Syria
went south, and Ben died, Nathan killed himself right there in the rubble.”
My heart squeezed painfully, and a horrified gasp escaped me as Erik
noticeably tightened his grip on the wheel until his knuckles were white.
“Fucking sucked. I was second in command, and if I had said something
before, they’d both be alive. I wouldn’t have a bullet an inch from my spine,
and I’d still be in right now.”
“What happened?” I knew I shouldn’t have, but I had to know. I had to
know someone suffered as much if not more than me. Maybe, it was
different, but the guilt, the shame, the horrific memories . . . those were all
the same. “I . . . I mean . . . ”
“It’s fine, Natasha. Honestly, I know I’m not entirely to blame.” By your
tone, you don’t really believe that, though. “It still sucks ass. It was too
difficult at the wrong points- like we were being led into a trap. And Nathan’s
dumbshit self was too trusting of the packet. We don’t ask too many
questions— we do our job, and that’s it. But that was a moment we should’ve
stopped and reassessed. In the end, we lost Ben and Nathan, another guy got
permanently crippled by the rubble, and me, well, I guess I’m lucky.”
“That’s awful.” Erik sounded so bitter in that last statement, and my heart
filled as goosebumps washed my arms and across my chest. “What happened
to you?”
“I got shot, and it traveled up and lodged really close to my spine. I could
either transfer out into a position that wouldn’t agitate it, or I could get
medically discharged with honors. I took the discharge. My dad only recently
started talking to me again, and that’s just to be an asshole.” I hadn’t really
caught most of Erik’s conversation with his dad that day at the coffee shop,
and I nodded mutely. Emotions battered my chest, some for him but most for
me, and I licked my lips as my mouth dried and my stomach roiled.
“My dad faked his death to get away from us.” The gross
oversimplification earned me a curious, dark glance, and I frowned ugly
under tightly knit brows. “He witnessed a murder, and got put in witness
protection for the trial, and they faked his death. He never came back
afterwards. He met someone, got married, and ignored us. He ‘died’ when we
were twelve and a half, maybe. I saw him when I was touring for college, so I
dug him up.”
“Do you blame him for what happened to you?” Puffing out my lips
thoughtfully, I rolled my jaw, and I sat up fully to sniffle a shallow breath.
Did I blame him? No, not really. Not for what happened to me, at least.
“I hate him for not bringing us. I hate him for so grossly misjudging our
mom’s heroin addiction, because I have absolutely no doubt he knew about
it. I hate him for not coming back for us, because it wouldn’t have been too
late for Valerie, but I don’t think I blame him for leaving. I think he was right
to run away. I blame my mom because it’s her fault. It was her drug dealer
and his gang, and it was her addiction, and it was her agreement. Maybe, she
even instigated it. But like I said, she’s dead, so there’s no point in blaming
her anymore.” Everything was so complicated, and I sighed as my tangent
faded into exhaustion. “Carlyle was good for that, at least. He was able to
find her pretty fast.”
“Okay.” I could hear the tension in Erik’s tone. He wanted to ask me
about it, but he didn’t think it was a good idea. For a fraction of a second, I
debated not continuing the conversation, but why be hesitant at this point?
Why hold back?
“I shot her in the head.” The car jostled slightly when Erik jammed down
the gas pedal from his shock, and he quickly hit the brakes. A strange sort of
emptiness pushed out from my chest, and I sniffed as I rested my head back
against the seat. My seatbelt burned only faintly against my collar bone, and
he caught my eyes in the rearview to narrow into tight points. “I’m not lying.
I did kill her. I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t even feel relief. She was so high.
You know what she said to me? I was the ‘good one’ and she needed rent
money. She didn’t even know where she was or anything.”
“Why are you telling me this, Natasha?” Propping my elbow on the
window to hold my chin on my palm, I watched Erik pulled onto the curb
sharply to jerk the emergency break. He twisted to face me fully, and I tensed
at the dark shadows that played on his face. “You murdered someone— you
realize that, right?”
“I’d do it again without hesitating. I murdered her? I took her life? At
least I don’t have to worry about what information she may be feeding those
pigs.” Erik’s eyes widened in surprise, and a scornful snort escaped my nose
even as I frowned nastily. “They were onto us long before Carlyle entered the
picture, Erik. Valerie never knew why we moved here, and yeah, I fucking
lied to her a lot. Everything I ever said to her is probably a lie. But you know
what? I was right, and we had a year— a whole year— of peace and
normalcy.”
“They were chasing you down? Why?” I shrugged, refusing to blink as
dread flooded my chest and twisted my insides. Those were questions I
couldn’t answer— didn’t want to answer— and it didn’t matter anymore,
anyway. They were all dead or in hiding. Carlyle made sure of that. “What
happened?”
“It was really convenient, actually. Her boyfriend cheated on her, and she
found out the same day that I got a phone call from my mom saying she
needed money. She called all the time— from prison, from her drug dealer,
from pay phones— and I didn’t change my number because I was scared that
if they couldn’t call me, they’d come find me. Valerie never knew how much
Mom would call me. So, she called a couple hours after Valerie found out
about the guy cheating on her, and she said . . . she needed my help. She was
in a lot of debt, and they were gonna kill her if she couldn’t pay. She needed
me to go down to Dallas and help her out. It’ll just take a day, maybe even
less!” Scoffing loudly as Erik’s eyes glittered dangerously, I dug my nails
into my cheek as a hollow laugh escaped me to release some of the pressure
on my heart. “I convinced Valerie to move here. We were living in Utah at
the time, and it was way too close. I spent a long, long time making sure that
Valerie thought the move was natural, but . . . anyway, so when they realized
I wasn’t going to, they targeted Valerie.”
“It seems like a really long and difficult thing to go through for you and
your sister. I don’t get why they didn’t just use your mother when they
already had her.” I shrugged again, and Erik frowned under the deep crease
between his brows. “That doesn’t make sense at all, Natasha. What gang was
it? You’ve obviously seen what’s going on in Dallas on the news, right?”
“Yeah, but my mom’s dead. Those guys aren’t coming after us anymore.
And to be honest, Erik, ‘why’ is never a question you ask when it comes to
people like that. You know that. They do it because they can, not for any
reason.” If Erik noticed I was dodging the question, he didn’t show it, and he
grunted lowly before retreating to the front seat. “I told you about it because .
. . I don’t know. There’s no reason not to. What are you gonna do? Take me
to the police station? It’s your word against mine, and you’ll never find her.”
He didn’t answer, and I unhooked my nails from my jaw to hiss softly at
the sting.
22

Natasha
“Does it bother you?” Posing my question before stuffing my hard-shell taco
into my mouth, I glanced over at Erik steadily. He really wasn’t good at
hiding his emotions, and he nodded dully as he squirted fire sauce on his own
food.
“I hate this shit. When you get shipped out, you know the guy you’re
going after is evil, the worst, a psychopath or a radical or just plain insane.
It’s not cut and dry anymore. You really did that, but what she did to you . . .
” We sat in a nearly abandoned taco shop on the outskirts of downtown, and
Erik trailed off to scowl as confusion drenched his features. “I don’t know
what to think anymore.”
“It’s easy when people tell you exactly what you should do and think and
feel… That’s why I stopped going to therapy. As awful as it was, that was my
life from the time I was twelve until I was sixteen and we got emancipated. It
was normal for me, and I had learned to deal with it as normal. The therapist I
went through tried to convince me that I wasn’t upset enough.” Shaking my
head a little, I adjusted my grip on my taco as years and years therapy flashed
in my mind’s eye. “Acknowledging that it was bad, and that I’m fucked up
because of it . . . I did that. Agonizing over what I couldn’t change and trying
to navigate it as a learning experience. I can’t do that. My therapist basically
told me that succumbing to my emotions was the only way to get over it, but
how are you supposed to get over it? It’s a part of my life I can’t ignore,
because this is what happens.”
Gesturing to my head absently, I took a deep breath laden with the heady
scent of greasy tacos, and Erik grunted softly in acknowledgment. I ignored
my past way more than I should’ve, and I know that now, but I didn’t think
that going into a blackout rage was a good idea, either.
“Is that why you’re agreeing to go with me? To work through it at your
own pace and in a way that you think is best?” Pausing my bite with my taco
shell between my teeth, I cast Erik a quizzical glance, and his lips thinned
briefly. “Or is it just to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting bad
again?”
 “Um, probably a little of both. To be honest, I know that I’ll probably
never be okay, but that’s fine. And you know why?” He shook his head,
hoisting his taco out of the boat, and a small, wistful smile stretched my lips.
“Because I’d do it the same way anyway. It’s not like I didn’t have some
vague idea of what was going on. I knew it wasn’t good, but I did it anyway
because if it wasn’t me, it’d be Valerie. If I could go back, I wouldn’t change
a damn thing.”
“It must be nice to believe that. If I could go back to that night in Syria, I
would do a hundred things different. Even if it didn’t make a difference in the
end, I hate feeling like I didn’t do enough.” Erik took a bite off his taco, but I
could see it on his face that he didn’t really taste it, and my heart ached for
him. I never had friends, and I couldn’t imagine having a best friend and then
watching him die right in front of me. He swallowed harshly, opening his
mouth to continue, but his cell phone rang shrill, and I jumped at the sudden
interruption. “Hang on.”
Taking the edge off my own taco, I nodded while Erik fished his phone
out of his pocket, and he inhaled a stabilizing breath before swiping the
‘Accept’ button with his pinky.
“What’s up, Dad? I’m a little busy.” His expression contorted in
annoyance, but I couldn’t understand whatever his dad said. “I know I don’t
have a job right now. That’s not why I’m busy. What do you want? I mean,
yeah, I’m not busy this weekend, I don’t think.”
Casting me a brow arched in question, Erik nodded when I nodded, but
the irritation never dimmed in his eyes as he turned back to his taco.
“Uh, yeah, I guess I can. I‘m not staying long enough to get accused of
being a lazy piece of shit sleeping on the couch, though. Yeah, okay. I’ll see
you Friday, then.” Hanging up, Erik sat back in the chair to heave a sigh, and
I didn’t question him as he took a huge chunk off his taco. Today had been a
weird series of intimate discussion and long, sullen silences, and he stared at
the table dazedly as he chewed before swallowing and opening his mouth. “I
guess I’m going to my parents’ house this weekend. My sister gets back from
deployment on Thursday, and they’re having a party.”
“You don’t want to go?” Erik pulled an uncomfortable face, and I set my
taco down to grab my drink. “Why not?”
“It’s my whole family that gets together— aunts, uncles, cousins, literally
everyone. My parents live on a ranch in South Carolina, and things get really
crazy really fast. Plus, I don’t like my sister that much.” Curiosity sparked in
my chest, and Erik ran his hand over his head roughly. “She’s one of, like,
less than a hundred women in the Marines combat battalions, and she thinks
she’s the shit because of it. It’s beyond annoying. I know it’s an achievement,
but she needs to learn to knock it down a notch or three.”
“Oh, does she think she can beat you in everything?”
“Okay, to preface this, I’m not a misogynist by any means, but . . . my
sister thinks we’re equals in everything because she’s a Marine. There’s
nothing special about her being a Marine combatant. Hundreds of thousands
of people have done exactly what she did. The only difference is that she’s a
woman, but she’s the only woman in the family in the military, so she gets
treated like she’s amazing, and she’s not. She’s average at best.” Giggling a
little at how put out Erik was, I covered my mouth with the back of my hand,
and his cheek twitched as he cast me a warm glance. “Plus, I’m a firm
believer that women have their strengths and men have theirs and there’s a
reason ‘equal’ is dangerous.”
“I don’t think I could kill someone like that. My mom, well, that’s
different, but . . . ” Nodding in understanding, Erik got the point I couldn’t
articulate, and I sighed softly as I sat back in my own chair. “Isn’t being a
SEAL, like, more intensive and stuff than being a Marine?”
“The Marines are the ones that go save everyone, and we’re the ones that
go save them. They’re just lifeguards.” Waving his hand in dismissal, Erik
picked up his second taco, and I cocked my head curiously. “Plus, they break
everything. Literally, they destroy shit and go through equipment like no
tomorrow. It’s no wonder the military budget is friggen massive.”
Humming softly, I watched him take a bite of his taco, and Erik met my
gaze with questions swirling in his eyes.
“So, is that why you hate CPS?” Frowning at the probe as Erik swallowed
his mouthful, I licked my lips heavily as nerves tingled on my tongue.
“Because it’s normal, and they try to force it on you that it’s not.”
“Oh, yeah. When we got CPS called on us that one time, they tried to
separate us.” He choked a little in surprise, and a sourness tainted my
expression as I turned to glare at my half-eaten taco. “They were so
concerned about our mom being high as a kite, but they had nowhere to put
us both together. The lady that showed up said we were going to different
homes for the week, but we weren’t little kids at that point.”
“What did you do?” Memories flashed behind my lids when I blinked,
and I bopped my head side to side with a thoughtful hum. Remembering back
then was so hard— the feelings were there, but I’d blocked out the images at
some point.
“I asked her why she thought that being with our mom was worse than
separating us. Valerie and I are fraternal twins. When this lady said it was
because our mom was a drug abuser and dangerous, I asked her how she was
dangerous if she was so high out of her mind that she couldn’t move. She
couldn’t answer that one. It went downhill for her from there.” Truthfully, I
didn’t remember details from that day, only that it happened, and that the
CPS lady had slunk off in defeat. As a thirteen-year-old, I learned the
government was bad, the teachers were bad— everyone was bad. No one
could be trusted not to rat us out, even though it was with good intentions.
That was why the saying ‘The road to Hell is paved with good intentions’
is a fucking saying in the first place.
“Do you want to come with me to South Carolina, Natasha?” The offer
surprised me, and Erik pursed his lips in determination as I stiffened. “We
can start there on the map. It’s about a thirteen-hour drive, though.”
Opening my mouth only to close it, I rolled my lips between my teeth
against the dread that clenched my gut, and I found myself nodded as panic
descended on my mind. Erik reached along the edge of the table to touch my
hand, and I sucked in a sharp breath as goosebumps surged up my arm. His
eyes blazed with warmth and satisfaction that I’d said ‘yes’, and I blinked at
the brightness of them.
23

Erik
My phone rang, again, and I sucked in a huge, calming breathing as irritation
threatened to close my airways. Glancing in the rearview mirror absently, I
pursed my lips thinly as Natasha stared dazedly out the window. Tapping the
screen on my dash to answer the call, I ground my teeth as I turned my
narrowed gaze back to the road.
“Dad, you’ve never called me so often in my entire life, what the hell do
you want?” My snap reverberated off the windows and ceiling of my car, and
I turned onto my street as I gripped the wheel with white-knuckle tightness.
“Uh, who snapped your bayonet, Erik?” Groaning loudly, I flopped my
head against the rest as my brother’s amused voice filtered through the car’s
speakers. “Didn’t you check who was calling? More importantly, I was
calling because you’ll never guess what I just found out.”
“Jason.” But my older brother wasn’t listening to me, and he practically
screamed into the receiver with joy. Wincing when the screech rattled my
brain, I automatically looked back as Natasha let out a squeak of shock,
jumping in her seat and gripping the buckle tightly, like she’d unfasten her
seatbelt and jump out the window. Wide, brown eyes met mine in the mirror,
and I shook my head silently.
“Oh, man! I’m getting my ass shoved into the Reservist Corp! Finally!
Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this to get approval? I don’t
have to go on deployment anymore!” Surprise rose my brows, and I nearly
choked on my own spit as I took the last turn before my house came into
view.
“What! That’s great! I bet Mary is really happy.” Okay, going from active
to reserves is kinda taboo, but . . . Especially in our family, we either die or,
well, there was no other option, really. I got a lot of heat for taking medical
discharge, but being a reservist is even worse in my dad’s mind. “That’s
awesome. Where are you being stationed?”
“Williamston, in South Caroline. I don’t even have to fucking move this
time. I haven’t told Mary, yet. I got the news just now. I’m not even home
yet.” Smiling broadly, my mood took a soft turn upwards. Mary had
threatened divorce if Jason didn’t find a position that got him home
consistently, and I liked Mary more than my own sister. “I had to tell
someone. I know the kids will be real happy, and Mary will be ecstatic.”
“Yeah, Jason, I’m really glad for you. Congratulations.” Jason was older
than me by a good four years, and he was more than ready to be a family man
rather than a military man. He hated leaving Mary to raise their three alone
all the time, and they were at the point in the marriage where things could
still be fixed. “So, where are you right now?”
“I’m in Norfolk. What about you? You couldn’t stand being a cop? I
heard you quit.” Word sure travelled fast, and I nodded even though my
brother couldn’t see it. “Are you coming down for the weekend? Were you
gonna stick around, or go back to New York?”
“Nah, I fucking hate New York. I’ll be there this weekend, yeah. Do you
know if Aunt Kathy’s husband is gonna be there?” From the quiet that
ensued, I knew he would be, and I frowned as a growl stuck in my throat.
“What do you know, Jason?”
“He’ll be there. That’s all I know. Honestly, just that is enough to make
me not want to go, but Mom would be offended, but, hey, I’ll see you on
Saturday, okay, Erik?” Grunting in acknowledgment, I turned into my
driveway as the speakers rippled with a shrill beep, and I jerked the gear into
park before glancing back at Natasha. Curiosity shimmered in her eyes, and
my lips thinned as I unbuckled myself and rubbed my face in frustration.
“If you don’t like him, he must’ve done something to deserve it.” Hers
wasn’t exactly a question, but I found myself torn between nodding and
shaking my head. There wasn’t any one reason I could pinpoint for what
Mike ‘must’ve done’, but my siblings and I all hated him.
“Mike’s a really upstanding guy . . . and I hate him. He rubs me the
wrong way. Always has in the ten years they’ve been married.” I could never
figure out why I didn’t like Mike, but Natasha accepted my answer and
unbuckled herself as I flicked up my coat collar. The brief distraction of my
brother’s call was dwindling, and worry nagged me as we climbed out of my
car. Natasha didn’t want to go home, but the sun was starting to set— at three
p.m.— and we’d run out of things to do. I honestly didn’t expect her to agree
to coming to my place, but she had.
Now, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I glanced up at my
modest, single floor, two-bedroom rental in uncertainty. I wanted to stew on
all the shit that Natasha had flung at me, but I’d invited her to be polite. She
wasn’t supposed to agree to come here. Twirling my keys around my finger
absently, I turned my gaze to her across the top of the car.
She didn’t look nervous, at least. Her slightly curled, brown hair swept
from the wind, and bright, brown eyes shimmering with determination met
mine briefly. Rounding the front of my car, her heels clicked softly on the
frozen asphalt, and I juggled my phone and keys on the way up the short
walkway.
“I should just apologize now, I guess.” Sticking the key in, I grumbled
more to myself than her, and Natasha frowned out of my peripheral vision.
Pushing the barrier open, I gestured her to go first, and she slipped by
keeping a really disheartening distance. I could hear her jacket scrape against
the door frame, and I hid my frown as I cleared my throat roughly. “It’s a bit
of a mess, sorta.”
“You don’t have anything.” Embarrassment clung to my ribs and
tightened my throat, and Natasha’s voice lilted in amusement as she looked
around my bare living room. I didn’t have anything at all. I didn’t see the
point in furnishing a place I wasn’t going to stay. There wasn’t even a
temporary setup, and I stalked to the kitchen to toss my stuff on the counter.
“Uh, yeah. The original plan was that I was going to move out after six
months when I found my own place, but obviously, I quit, so either way, I
didn’t see the point if I was just going to have to haul it all out anyway.”
Rubbing my head and neck in discomfort, I leaned on the counter to take in
the horrible, yellow paint job and ugly, orange tiling. “Not really a place to be
proud of, for sure.”
“My parents always had an apartment, but we were moving into a house
when my life fell apart.” Natasha worded things strangely, and she talked
about her wretched life like she was describing what a pencil looked like. She
rocked on her heels, stuffing her hands in her jean pockets, and I was kinda
speechless with the awkwardness of this moment. “You want to ask me
anything?”
“Do you have anything you want to ask me?” Combatting her question
with my own, I seriously had no damn idea what was going on anymore, and
Natasha shook her head. Her hair swished, and I pursed my lips thinly as my
mind churned furiously. “Why did you start seeking me out?”
“Because the more I thought about it, the more it made sense that you’re a
follower, not a leader.” That fucking— ouch! Natasha smiled grimly as my
lip curled up, but she was right, and she knew it. “I’ve seen that other cop
around. He clearly hates his job. I realized after a while that it all . . . just . . .
plain bad luck, I guess.”
“So, you figured we just got off on the wrong foot, and that I wasn’t as
scummy as our first meeting presented me?” She nodded mutely, and my
brows furrowed even as a wiggle of relief wormed between my lungs. “On
the way back from CVS, you told Illya that cops are the most dangerous, but
I’m not a cop anymore. Does that make you feel safer?”
“I don’t feel unsafe.” That wasn’t the question, but I let it slide for now as
Natasha shot me a quizzical look. “You still haven’t asked me why I went up
to you in the pizza place.”
“What’s there to ask? There’s a few reasons. You had the advantage at
the time, and you knew it. Also, we were in a restaurant crowded enough not
to be missed if something happened. You also had your two coworkers there.
Plus, you were the one who initiated it. Every other time, it was me that
fucked up and surprised you.” Maybe, Natasha didn’t think I was that
perceptive, and I rolled my eyes when she barked a surprised laugh. “I’ve
trained for twenty years to know this kind of shit. Reading situations is what
I’m good at. That’s why . . . ”
Trailing off, I could hear my unspoken words hanging heavy in the air,
and Natasha wandered across the kitchen to me. She kept a good foot or two
of distance, but her eyes didn’t leave mine, and I tensed when she swung her
hand to latch her fingers on my own. Her touch was warm, and that heat
suffused my chest to the cell as she tinged pink around her ears.
Shuffling a little closer, her heels never leaving the tiles, Natasha’s breath
hitched when I tangled our fingers together, and alarm flashed in her big,
brown eyes before she ever so gently rested her cheek on my chest. My heart
thundered hard and fast, blood drumming in my ears, and I didn’t dare
breathe for fear of shattering this moment.
“I don’t know if I can ever do that, Erik, but I’m trying. It’s kinda funny,
maybe. Before I went out, I told Carlyle I was gonna go with you because I
was gonna kill myself at some point along the way.” Ice lodged in my throat,
and I gripped the edge of the counter with my free hand until my nails bend
back and throbbed painfully. “That way, Valerie wouldn’t know, and she
wouldn’t agonize over anything she might’ve done because it wouldn’t have
made a difference, anyway. Right now, today, it doesn’t seem so hopeless.”
“Valerie’s not the only one that cares about you, you know.” I said the
only words I could think of, and Natasha sighed, her hot breath seeping
through my shirt to scorch my skin. She leaned forward a little, but only her
cheek touched me— nothing else— and I unfurled my fingers stiffly to cup
the back of her head above her hair. My eyelids fluttered closed, and I
inhaled into screaming lungs soothed by the thick vanilla scent that wafted
off her hair.
24

Natasha
“You didn’t spend the night? Why not?” Casting Illya a dumb look, I paused
my fiddling, and she blushed pink as she shrugged a little, ducking her head
in embarrassment. “I’m just sayin’ . . . that seems like the next logical thing
to do considering, you know, you’re going to be stuck in a car with him
forever. You’re gonna have to sleep in the same eight-foot space.”
“I like him.” Theo surprised both of us, and my brows nearly flew off my
face as Illya jumped a little with a squeak of her own. Turning to him dying
of boredom of the couch, I blinked hard, but he continued staring at the
ceiling as if he hadn’t said something so shocking. “Him taking medical
discharge voluntarily, it says a lot about him. Even you two did fuck, he’d
probably be really okay about it. Erik’s an okay dude.”
“You like him? Theo, you don’t even tolerate me most of the time.”
Shooting Illya a snooty look, Theo sat up a little to stretch his legs, and she,
in turn, looked at me wild. “What the fuck?”
“I didn’t get a chance to talk to him because you two were fucking
draining that bottle too fast, but if I did, it’d probably be real . . . pleasant.”
My mouth dried as Illya’s jaw dropped, and Theo grinned maliciously at his
girl as he settled back into the sofa. Turning to stare at the table, I let that
comment circle in my head— Theo liked Erik. What a fucking insane
concept. Theo didn’t like anyone, and if he did, he hid it behind that scowl
that never left his face.
I didn’t know if that was worrying or not.
“Anyway, no, I didn’t sleep over. It was great, but I didn’t want to push
my luck.” Popping out my lower lip as I sunk in my chair, I twiddled a shirt
between my fingers and frowned under furrowed brows. “Holding his hand
makes me so nervous, I can’t even think about the other stuff. I mean, I was
thirteen when it started and sixteen when it ended. That’s a long time.”
“Who says you’re definitely going to have sex if you sleep over? Even if
things do have a chance to get hot and heavy, circumvent it early. Tell him as
soon as you get in the car, ‘I don’t want to do anything tonight’.” Scrunching
up my face at that, my mind whirred leisurely as I distractedly put my shirt in
the pile to the right of my chair. “Erik won’t pressure you.”
“I know that.” We’d been slowly sorting clothes for hours now, doing
more talking than anything else, and I sat up with a sharp, slightly clogged
breath. Illya held up a pair of shorts, and I nodded before she dropped them to
her left into a much smaller pile. “He asked me if I felt safe, and it’s like I
don’t even know what that even means. Plus, what’s the point of a
relationship if you can’t have sex with your partner?”
“Maybe, you can have an open relationship.” Surprise and disgust
gripped my heart in a vice, and Illya giggled at the twisted expression that
instantly sprung to my face. “It’s an option— if Erik gets antsy, tell him he
can go screw someone else because you can’t or won’t.”
Pursing my lips thinly, my brain started to work faster. I had never
considered having to worry about this shit, and we fell into silence. There
was absolutely, positively no friggen way I’d bring that up to Erik, and my
heart throbbed painfully in my chest. Was this what liking someone felt like?
Because I didn’t enjoy it and I wanted it to stop. I had never kissed a man. I’d
never been completely naked in front of a man. I’d never voluntarily
submitted to even a caress on the cheek.
Even at the raves and the parties, I’d conditioned myself to be better at
being touched, but there were so many people so tightly packed together. No
one ever lingered more than a few seconds before finding a more enticing
silhouette in the gloom.

Plus, what would happen if Erik stopped wanting to spend time with
me and be with that other woman? My chest tightened at the notion,
and I ground my teeth as my fingers stopped working through clothes.
All my attention turned to that. Even the world around me went black
and silent for a second. What’ll happen then? I have to make him
think I’m a good option— the only option.
My skin crawled, but I put on my best smile as small hands
caressed down my arm and back. The other men in the room didn’t
see anything wrong with this situation— me, sitting on some guy’s
lap, even though I hadn’t even gotten my period yet. How messed up .
. . how deplorable . . . how . . . how . . .
How did this happen? The question had no answer, and I tensed,
my breath catching in my throat when that hand stuck between my
legs. My smile froze, but I knew.
 A shrill, insistent cry broke me from my reverie, and I jumped as
goosebumps pocked my skin. My heart jumped into my throat, and my hand
shook when I snatched my phone off the table. A cold sweat broke out on my
body, and I pushed myself up to shuffle out of the kitchen and down the hall
to my bedroom.
“H-hello?” My voice cracked hard, and I ran my free hand through my
hair only for my frigid fingers to get stuck.
“Did you finish packing, Natasha? We’re gonna be shipping out
tomorrow morning, and—"
“No, no, it’s not coming out!” Panic rang in my voice and sloshed
violently against my ribs, and I wheezed as my lungs filled with fire. Tugging
my hand, a shriek burst from my throat when my phone hit the wall with a
sickening thump. Tears pricked my eyes, and my throat closed completely as
my knees gave out from under me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe, and
blood drummed in my ears, drowning everything else out.
Small hands, soft, small hands, touched my back, and I whipped around
to kick out my feet blindly. The dense lump in my throat dislodged from the
scream that built up underneath it, and the hand in my hair only twisted
tighter and pulled.
“No, no, no! No!” It hurt— all of me hurt— and my scalp tugged hard as
bloodcurdling shrieks rubbed my throat raw. Pressure built behind my eyes,
and tears streamed down my face as phantom laughter rang high above the
drumming in my ears.
“Don’t!” Prickles assaulted my skin like needles, and my eyes rolled back
as the pressure on my skull became even more intense. Shivering as fear
gripped my muscles, I curled into a tiny, tight ball even as the tugging on my
hair sharpened and jerked. Wheezing bare breaths, my lungs enflamed around
my heart, and it beat furiously in a bid to jump out of my chest.
“Illya. Illya, shit. It’s okay. She got you really good, but you’re gonna be
okay.” The deep, rough baritone was overly loud but muted, like it was
coming through a tunnel, and black spots assaulted my vision.
I couldn’t breathe, and my fingers went numb as the energy seeped from
my arms and legs to keep my heart beating. My loose clothes stuck to my
skin as sweat dripped down my jaw and chin, and I spasmed lightly from the
cramps that assaulted my abdomen.
Staring at the wall, shame drenched my naked body and ran rivers down
my face, and I clenched my jaw against the sobs that built in my chest. My
teeth ached and my lungs refused to work properly as swirls decorated the
wall that weren’t really there. The bed dipped behind me and I stiffened as
the fine hairs on my neck stood up. Disgusting fingers caressed my side and
over my shoulder, and a very thick Spanish accent tickled my ear.
“It’ll get better, mija.”
And he was right. It got better. It stopped hurting. It was something as
mundane as swinging a bat. It happened, and then it was over. I could
definitely do it again, because the sooner I did it, the sooner it’d be over.
Yeah, I could just pretend, like I’d been doing all this time, and
everything would be fine again. Everything was fine. I’d done it before, and
it worked. All I had to do was . . .
25

Erik
Rage and worry created a volatile cocktail as I beat the elevator on the stairs,
and I kicked open Natasha’s apartment door with fire engulfing my heart.
People crowded the living room, faceless mannequins that I paid no mind to,
and I stormed through it all to the hallway. She was curled up on the floor,
mumbling illegibly to herself, her hand tangled tightly in her hair and pulling
uselessly.
My heart broke for Natasha, dripping in sweat and totally out of her mind,
and I crouched down on stiff knees beside her. Every fucking time she came
back here, she had a meltdown, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. My hand
trembled as I reached for hers, and she jerked with a pathetic whimper even
when my palm covered hers. She was soaked to the bone, freezing cold, and
my lips thinned as glazed over, brown eyes met mine.
“Hey, Natasha. What’s wrong, huh?” There wasn’t the faintest spark in
her eye that she understood me, and Natasha’s lips moved, but nothing came
out. Fighting a grimace, I managed somehow despite the apoplexy searing
my veins, and I circled her sweat palm as it spasmed under my fingertips.
“It’s okay, just rest.”
Her eyelids fluttered, her wheezes becoming hiccups, but Natasha didn’t
release the tension that strafed her spine. She was so tense, and an unbearable
sensation shot up my arm to stab my chest. This was, by far, the worst
episode yet, and I couldn’t even do anything. I couldn’t touch her anywhere,
and she didn’t process anything I said.
Watery, bloodshot eyes met mine, wandered, and repeated as her lips
moved mutely, and I struggled to breathe as I waited it out. So much circled
in my head. What happened to make her this way? What did someone say or
do that triggered this?
Very carefully, very slowly, I untangled Natasha’s hair from around her
tightly clenched fist, and a huge clump stuck between her fingers. Gently
turning her head, I wasn’t sure whether or not she’d ripped out enough to be
noticeable, or whether or not that was a good thing either way.
One thing was obvious to me, though— Natasha couldn’t come back
here.
Determination branded my chest, and I waited the worryingly short time
it took for Natasha to black out. Her eyes rolled back, whole body sinking
into the carpet, and the smell of urine plumed in the air. Seconds ticked by on
pins and needles before I stood up, and I rubbed my head and down my neck
with both my hands. Licking my teeth, my jaw ached as it immediately
clenched hard, and my gaze narrowed as I glanced around.
Shuffling toward the living room, I glanced at the worried faces—
worried enough to show up but not enough to try to help. Irritation heated my
face, and my eyelid twitched in agitation as I spotted Theo on the sofa.
“What happened?” The sharp edge to my tone, I had never heard it
before, and Theo glanced up as my mind belatedly registered the sound of
Illya puking her guts out into the garbage can. He watched my warily, and
my lip curled in impatience before he opened his mouth.
“I wasn’t paying much attention, but Illya said something about being in
an open relationship.” My pupils narrowed into slits as I sucked in a sharp
breath, and Theo held up his hands in surrender. His mangled fingers curled,
caution and maybe neve nervousness dictating his scarred features, and I
clenched my fists tightly by my sides. “Like I said, I wasn’t paying
attention.”
“Is she okay?” Speaking up meekly, Valerie drew my gaze, and utter
disgust curled my face into a full-blown snarl.
“Why the fuck are you even here? You’re so upset she lied to you, you
haven’t talked to her in days. You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?”
Red seeped into my vision when Valerie had the audacity to look ashamed,
and it took all my strength not to storm over and get in her face. “How dare
you? How dare you, after everything she went through to make sure you
weren’t fucked up beyond repair, and you ask, ‘is she okay’?”
“No wonder she feels so fucking alone.” Brown eyes so closely matching
Natasha’s welled with tears at my snap, but I had no mercy— not anymore.
Natasha was alone, in the hallway, in the middle of a psychotic break, and
they were all huddled in the living room doing nothing! “Get the fuck out!
Go be mad that she lied to make you happy. Go feel betrayed about her
wanting you to have a good life. Natasha gave you every opportunity and
ruined herself for you, and you have the gall, the fucking temerity to ignore
her? This is your fault, Valerie.”
Even Carlyle was silent, and I wondered briefly beneath the fog of my
mind whether he’d tried to persuade Valerie to initiate contact with Natasha.
The younger twin broke down at my accusation, but she didn’t move, and I
took a few threatening steps forward. Breathing fire through flared nostrils, I
shook with the force of my disgust as Valerie stumbled back before making a
break for the door.
Ungrateful bitch. Was Valerie going to ignore Natasha until she could
pretend everything was fine? Did she feel so justified being angry about the
lies that she ignored the intent behind it? Does she even realize the
consequences of Natasha’s sacrifice? Did she think it would blow over?
Everything around me was in hyper focus as I glanced into the kitchen.
The range was clear of anything, which means Natasha hadn’t cooked while
having Illya over. A huge pile of clothes son on the left side of either chair, a
smaller pile on the right, and I scratched my jaw roughly. There was no noise
except a shrill ringing in my ears as I stalked over to grab the suitcase
standing against the wall.
An open relationship . . .
That concept was even worse to hear than Valerie asking such a dumbass
question. Disgust coated my tongue, gluing it to the top of my mouth as I
ground my teeth down to the gum. Snatching the pile to the right of the chair,
I started folding the clothes just to do something, to get rid of this tension
zinging through me.
What the fuck kind of suggestion is that? An open relationship! That
defeats the whole fucking purpose of wanting to be with Natasha. If I didn’t
have hope for us, I wouldn’t have fucking stuck around! Sure, it worked for
some people, but not for me.
Why the hell were they talking about sex, anyway?
“What the fuck!” Seething as questions I had no answers to swirled
around behind my eyes, I sucked in as big a breath as I could manage, and
my sternum popped from the pressure. Methodically picking up, folding, and
placing the clothes in the suitcase helped me a little, at least to focus on
organizing my thoughts.
We were doing so good. Natasha and I were making progress. I knew it
wouldn’t happen overnight, and it wouldn’t be easy for either of us, but
progress was progress, no matter how small a step. She fucking put her cheek
on my chest of her own volition. That was huge!
“I’m sorry.” The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I turned at
the weak rasp as Illya lifted her green face from the trash can. “I . . . I didn’t
think. I’m sorry.”
“You fucking should be. Congratulations, Illya! You told a rape victim
she wasn’t good enough for a normal relationship!” My voice raised and
roughened out of my control, and I scowled darkly. “Jesus Christ, what the
fuck is wrong with you people? Who the fuck do you think you are, knowing
what you know and trying to give advice? You don’t know shit!”
“And you think you do? You’re not God’s apology gift, Erik.” Whipping
around, I glared hotly at her, and Illya wisely shut the fuck up. She looked
like she was gonna pass out, sweaty and pale and queasy-looking, and she
still fucking argued with me? About something she didn’t know anything
about in the first place?
“What I know . . .” Spitting venom, I held myself tall, and Illya rolled her
shoulders in defeat, maybe realizing she was fucking wrong. “Is that every
fucking time this happens, it happens here.”
26

Natasha
Frowning darkly at the ceiling, I blinked into the gloom as memories slowly
filtered through into my bogged mind. Erik gazed at me steadily, no longer
speaking but observing, and I covered my face with my arm.
“What happened next?” My voice rubbed my throat raw, and my chest
deflated in a heavy sigh. His bed smelled like him, enveloping me in a
security, and for the first time, I had an answer. Right here, I do feel safe.
“Did I really pull out my hair?”
“Yeah. You did. It wasn’t enough to make a patch, but it’s a little thin.
You sweated through all your clothes, so I had to put you in mine.” His voice
deepened, became gravelly, and I peeked out from under my elbow as he
clasped and released his hands between his knees. “You don’t have any scars.
I was glad when I noticed that. I knew you might be upset about the whole
seeing you naked without your consent.”
“Consent. That’s probably as close as I ever got. Acknowledgment that it
exists.” I cut Erik off, and sourness coated my dry tongue as it stuck to the
roof of my mouth. Rolling onto my side to prop my cheek on my forearm, I
gazed at Erik as he hung his head, and he clenched his hands tightly. “You
are as close as I ever got.”
“That doesn’t make me very proud. It wasn’t nearly close enough.” His
shirt wrapped around me stretched and clung to my torso as I reached for his
whitening knuckles. Rough skin and coarse hairs prickled my fingertips, and
my eyelids fluttered closed as Erik blustered a sigh. “No one called your cell
phone all yesterday and last night. I thought maybe . . . Illya might call.
Whatever happened, she looked really bad. What happened to her?”
“I don’t remember.” My mumble made Erik lift his head, and I licked my
dry lips as his eyes met mine. His orbs were so bright, it was almost difficult
to gaze at them, and I blinked as my mind caught up with the questions
swirling in them. “I remember . . . I remember sitting at the table, and she sa-
said . . . she said . . . th-tha—“
“No, no, I know what she said. Natasha, sweetheart, no.” Shaking his
head, Erik inched forward in his seat slightly, and a certain disgust
shimmered in his gaze. Engulfing my hand in both of his, he raised my
fingertips up only to pause midway with a slight hitch in his breath. “There’s
no way. I’m not interested in that enough to notice more than how nice your
hair looks all the time.”
“You’re a good man.” The compliment made Erik’s cheek twitch, and he
massaged my fingers absently as my mind puttered along sluggishly. Little
snippets flashed behind my eyes when I blinked, but it all cut off into black at
no point in particular. “What if you get bored of me?”
“Then I’ll tell you to your face. I’ve failed missions before, Natasha, but
they say you fight ten times harder when you had a great cause to fight for.”
My heart fluttered when he squeezed my hand firmly but not tightly, and he
pursed his lips in determination. For a second, he looked the way he must’ve
right before he jumped out of a plane or something— fierce, ready, resolute
— almost single-mindedly focused on the objective.
Erik was not going to give up without fighting for his life, and I . . . I had
to fight just as hard.
“I’m not supposed to tell you this, but you’re right, Erik.” Wiggling a
little closer, to the very edge of the bed, I sniffled a breath in preparation Erik
frowned under tightly knit brows. “Well, about Carlyle. He found my mom,
but he also found the guys that hurt us. It wasn’t for me directly. He did it for
himself, because he just found out about Valerie, and he was on a crusade to
make himself feel better.”
“Natasha, I’m over caring about what shady shit that asshole is involved
wi—" Reaching to silence Erik with a thumb on his lips, his goat scruff
tickled my palm, and he automatically turned into my touch. The strangest
sensation shot up my arm, his clean-shaven face rough but somehow still
smooth, like he put lotion on. His goatee was starting to grow unevenly since
the last time he’d trimmed it, and I inhaled sharply through flared nostrils as I
traced the line down his chin.
“I want you to understand, though . . . Carlyle found them, and I don’t
know what happened, but no one ever asked me if I wanted to confront them.
I didn’t get the chance, and I know for a fact that I never will. What happened
to Valerie, it was awful. Yeah. But . . . but what about me? Why did Carlyle
get the hog all the self-righteousness and anger? He never has to answer to
anyone, but this had nothing to do with him and he still made it all about him.
Even Valerie doesn’t know that he had them, so it wasn’t even about her,
either. So, I guess . . . you’re right. Things aren’t cut and dry, and there’s a lot
of stuff that happens that we don’t like, but we have no control over it.”
Licking my dry lips as my whisper morphed into a hoarse rasp, I exhaled a
shaky breath as I stroked the longer hairs curving around Erik’s chin. “I don’t
know if it’s because, you know, it hasn’t been a long time, but I really feel
okay when I’m around you, Erik. To be honest, I don’t know if it’s real, or if
it’s even what it’s supposed to be.”
Trailing off as my words got jumbled up as my tongue stuck to the roof of
my mouth, I sniffed hard, but Erik seemed to understand. His eyes narrowed
on mine, his fingers flexing as he brought mine to his lips to very gently kiss
the tips, and I tensed at the almost numbing tingles that rippled down to my
palm. Not daring to close my eyes, my heart raced suddenly, and my eyelids
fluttered dangerously while he pressed the flat backs of my fingers to his
cheek.
“I don’t expect it to be easy, Natasha, but if we get there, we get there,
and if we don’t . . . then we don’t. I’m not going to go screw around with
someone else. It’d just be easier to jerk off.” Rolling my lips between my
teeth, the blood drained from my cheeks at the mere mention of that awful
fucking idea, and Erik smiled encouragingly. “So, do you want to make some
breakfast? Surprise— I went to the store last night and got bacon and eggs
and stuff. I know you can do something with it.”
“Is today the day we’re leaving?” Anxiety thrummed faintly in my gut,
and Erik nodded as he straightened to arch sharply in the chair. He’d been
slumped over this whole time, and the muted pop of his joints peppered my
ears as I watched his muscles roil under his skin. He raised his arms to pop
his shoulders, shaking his arms when they swung down with a heavy sigh,
and I sat up to swipe my hair from my face.
“I assumed the smaller piles of clothes we—"
“No.” Narrowed eyes met mine as I wrapped my arms around myself,
bunching up his t-shirt under my breasts, and I shook my head a little harder
than necessary. “I like this shirt.”
“Ah, okay. You should put some underwear on, at least.” The
awkwardness in his voice infected the atmosphere, and Erik rubbed the back
of his neck before pointing a thumb at the door. “I’ll make some coffee. It’s
almost six a.m., so if we want to leave by eight, we should get movin’.”
“Okay.” Shuffling out to shut the door behind him, Erik left in his bed,
and I fisted his shirt to bring it to me nose and inhale. My eyelids fluttered
closed, his smell wafting up into my brain to calm all my terrible thoughts,
and I held my breath for a long moment.
Erik really was a hero— not just an American hero, but when I needed
him, he came. He beat back all the monsters, not only the ones who beat
against the outside of my head but the inner ones, too. Sitting back on my
heels, I slumped a little as worry slowly infected my abdomen.
There were so many things I had to say, still. So many revelations. So
many reasons the voluntarily expose that would make any man run away with
reasonable disgust.
My eyes stung, and I laid back down to cover myself with the comforter
before that first, brave tear trekked the wasteland that was my face. My chest
tightened at how overwhelmingly huge my mountain of problems was now
that I wasn’t ignoring it.
And I was gonna lose Erik when he climbed too close to the top.
27

Natasha
“Is something wrong?” Glancing up from pushing around eggs on my plate, I
nodded firmly, and Erik’s brows furrowed as questions blossomed in his
gaze. “Do you want to tell me?”
“I’m not nervous. I thought it’d be more . . . daunting. Um, I don’t like
sitting in the front seat, so . . . ” Trailing off, I shimmied a piece of bacon to
the center of the plate, and he pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I’m sorry. I know
you’re not them, but it’s not you, Erik, not really.”
“Righting wrongs is something I do a lot.” Erik smiled warmly, and my
heart sputtered when he touched the back of my free hand. “It’s not such a
mystery. You sit in the front when Illya drives. You sit in the back and still
hold the door handle.”
My lips twitched in a sad, ugly, tiny smile, and I set down my fork as my
appetite fled completely. A black blotch spread across my chest, and Erik sat
back a little as his full attention laid firmly on me. Propping my elbow on the
table, I held my chin on my palm as I thought on that observation.
“This guy used to take me to the grocery store. We got real food. I would
buy produce, not fried shit in bags or cans of overly processed dye. It was
awesome. It wasn’t like my mom ever ate, so I knew it’d just be me and
Valerie. It was never more than two hundred dollars, and in Dallas, that’s
how much the hookers cost. So, we got a couple weeks of food, and for,
what, twenty minutes of my time in the front seat of a car parked behind the
store. At the time, it was worth it.”
“Is that how you learned to cook? You had to do it all?” I nodded,
humming softly, and Erik’s jaw ticked as his eyes brightened. “Valerie didn’t
cook?”
“No. I mean, she made mac-n-cheese and hotdogs and stuff, but she . . .
she hated doing chores. She always said she was too tired, too busy, too
whatever. She was going to her friend’s and didn’t want to get her shirt wet.
There were always reasons, so I stopped asking and did it myself. She was
such a brat until . . . ” The confessions seemed never-ending, and I frowned
under furrowed brows. “Our mom did something. She must’ve pissed
someone off, because they grabbed us and held us hostage for six days. We
were there in separate rooms, and everything I did, everything I endured, it
was all for nothing. I’d ask her to do something, and she did it, pouting and
dragging her feet.”
“Is that when you started lecturing her about safety?” Nodding again, I
gulped down the dense lump in my throat, and the crease between Erik’s
brow deepened. “You didn’t leave until you were sixteen, though.”
“Sixteen is when Valerie and I both had jobs— she worked part-time and
I worked full-time second and third shift. We made enough money and I
convinced my sister she needed to get above low A’s in school to get a
scholarship to an art school for computerized imagery. Job opportunity,
right.” Hallowing my cheeks to puff out my lips, I scrunched up my nose
before shaking my head a little. My wrist started to ache from the angle, but I
ignored it as Erik frowned deeper, darker. “Anyway, I kept going to those
guys. We needed money because Mom was useless. I didn’t trust her not to
spend it on drugs, so I had to do it all myself.”
“It’s always you, isn’t it, Natasha?”
“The qualities of a leader.” Tilting my head at him, I inhaled a deep,
stabilizing breath as Erik’s eyebrow twitched. “And you’re a follower.”
“Protector sounds a lot better. A queen always needs one.” Scoffing
lightly even as fire licked up my neck, I tore my eyes off him to stare at my
plate. “Ah, come on, Natasha. That was a good one. Anyway, you know,
Natasha, you’ve never lied to me. Is it because I’m too dense to see an
ulterior motive?”
“You’re a bleeding heart, Erik. You don’t think a good enough lie is
capable of being a lie. If it’s believable, it should be believed. Even the
outrageous with plausible explanations, you don’t second guess genuineness
if it’s mimicked well enough.”
Smiling faintly, I picked up my fork again to stab a piece of egg as Erik’s
eyes narrowed on me. He didn’t looked particularly put out by my words, and
I licked my lips heavily. “I like that about you. It’s . . . it’s pure. It’s bright,
and I want it. Everything I’ve said to you could be a lie, but it’s a sob story
and plausible and because of what you’ve seen, you’re inclined to believe it
because you love when people start bad and get better.”
“You can’t fake the breaks, though, and that’s what started this, isn’t it?
At CVS, you were breaking, and I fucked up with the jacket, but the rest . . . I
don’t lie, and you, you cover up, you don’t lie.” Stroking my hand with his
thumb, Erik sighed softly as he scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “You’re
avoiding the question, Natasha.”
“I don’t think you’re dense, Erik. Everyone chooses what facts to accept
and what to ignore based on personal experience. You—" Pointing at him
with my fork, I inhaled deeply as I slumped a little in my seat. “You don’t
acknowledge the fact that, to avoid trouble or punishment, the automatic
reaction is to lie. You don’t acknowledge that I had sex for money, because I
did it for my sister. Just like you, I put myself through unspeakable horrors
for someone else, someone innocent. I murdered my own mother, but it’s
palatable because of the negligence— because when it all comes down to it,
it’s her fault.”
“You still haven’t answered my question, Natasha. You turned it around
on me to avoid it. You gave me a tiny bit of what really worried you and
steered the conversation somewhere else. I took interrogation classes, you
know.” Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I ducked my head even as
Erik smiled encouragingly and squeezed my hand gently. “Like I said, you
cover up. You’re really good at it, too. The thing is, I care about everything
you say. So every time you cover up, it uncovers something else more.”
“Yeah, I’m not . . . I mean, the back seat is . . . maybe it can be fixed.
Maybe it can’t. There’s gonna be hours, days in the car. So, why am I not
nervous? I . . . I’m gonna meet your parents and your siblings, and I’m not
nervous. I’m going to leave everything behind, and I’m not anxious. I . . . ”
Trailing off as my tongue dried, I rubbed my knees under the table as heat
slithered up my neck. “I’m wearing your clothes, and I like it. It took me, I
don’t know, I was twenty-four when I realized that I didn’t feel disgusting
putting on my own clothes . . . before work, after work, after a shower . . .
and that was when I realized it, not when it started happening.”
“Maybe, all that psychology you just tried to use on me is exactly the
answer you didn’t want to admit to yourself, and it just so happened to apply
to me.” Maybe Erik’s not as dense about some things. “Natasha, you don’t
have to validate anything by being nervous, or excited, or anxious, or
uncomfortable. If you want to wear my shirts, you should.” My cheek
twitched as guilt clogged my throat, and I ducked my head as Erik continued
to stroke the back of my hand. A tightness gripped my chest, and he stood up
to round the table and kneel by my chair. “Hey.”
Cupping my chin very slowly, very obviously, Erik lifted my gaze to his,
and my vision blurred as the last few minutes caught up with me. My nose
heated, and I rolled my lips between my teeth to stop them from trembling.
Gingerly, his fingers curled against my cheek, and apprehension skittered up
and down my spine as determination knit his brows.
“I know it’s only been a few weeks, and so much has happened, but I’m
not with you to fix you. I’m with you to support you. You’re messed up, you
know it, and you’re trying to help yourself in your own way. Not everyone
can go to the hospital for help. Sometimes, that’s not the kind of help they
need— not sitting in a room, naked, waiting for a doctor to swing around
when you know he doesn’t care about you or anything you have to say.
There’s other ways to get help. We can go to anonymous survivor’s
meetings, or we can just have a good time, because God only knows, you
don’t have many good days.” Tears welled in my eyes, and Erik brushed his
thumb along my eyelashes with a tenderness that stole my breath. He was
such a good man, and I had done such terrible things. Gulping harshly, I
jerked my head in a nod, and his lips quirked beneath his goatee when I
reached a trembling hand to tug on it. The bristly, coarse hairs sent
goosebumps surging up my arm, and my heart beat furiously.
“O-okay, yeah.” A bare sigh deflated my fiery lungs, and I pursed my lips
thinly, as Erik retreated and stood up. Sitting in the chair, he seemed so tall
and broad, larger than life, almost monstrous. Before I could stop myself, I
grabbed his waist, and his tense, toned muscles flexed against my cheek. His
six-pack rippled with power when he put a hand on my head, and my
throbbing lids fluttered closed as I leaned heavily against him.
28

Erik
“Yeah, Dad, I’m on the highway right now. We’re about to pass into
Pennsylvania.” The line crackled loudly against the seats of my car, and I
glanced into the back seat while Natasha stared out the window. She really
knew how to ignore what she thought didn’t involve her, which was as nice
as it was infuriating. Not to mention the whole conversation this morning.
“I just wanted to call and make sure. Cathy’s here. She wants to talk to
you.” Biting back a groan, I frowned as I flexed my fingers around the wheel,
and my dad chuckled knowingly. “She’s not so bad.”
“I don’t know whether or not to dispute that.” My sister’s voice started a
far-away muffle but grew in clarity, and I clenched my jaw shut when she
obviously took the phone from my dad. “Hey, Erik! Long time no talk. You
didn’t send me any letters during my deployment. I had to find out through
Dad on the way home from the airport that you flunked being a cop.”
“Believe it or not, Cathy, but my life doesn’t revolve around your
deployments. How long are you here for?” So I can plan a party when you
fucking leave. My sister, man, she was a piece of work, and not a good one.
She was average at everything, but she succeeded at most things and thought
she was awesome. Christ.
“Six weeks. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually. You know, while I
was overseas, I met this girl, Maya, and she lives in the same town as you in
New York. I invited her to this thing this weekend so you could meet her.”
My brows shot up, a disgusted, sharp bark of laughter bursting from my
throat, and my sister’s frown rippled in her voice. “What? I thought you’d
like her, and she liked you, or the idea of you, anyway.”
“You’re a terrible judge of character, Cathy. Just because Jason and Mary
met in Afghanistan when she was a war reporter doesn’t mean that’s the only
place to meet women.” Rubbing my jaw roughly, I shook my head, and I
could practically see Cathy pouting when I blinked. Flicking on my blinker to
merge into the cruise lane, I inhaled deeply before Natasha’s eyes bristled the
hairs on the back of my neck. “Anyway, are you staying with Mom and Dad,
or at your boyfriend’s place? He’s not back yet, right?”
 “Nope. He comes back in two weeks, though. Ben’s only staying for two
weeks before getting reassigned. Speaking of Jason, he’s not happy that
Uncle Mike is gonna be at the party tomorrow. It’s gonna be awkward
again.” Snorting roughly at that, I exhaled a gruff breath as I gripped the
wheel tightly. “He’s a creep. I know he gets invited to be polite, but it’s not
like his kids would know why he didn’t go one time. Mom says he has to
come because she doesn’t want to listen to it.”
“Yeah, fuck him, though. Seriously. I gotta go, though. We’re about to hit
the exchange on I-95.” Even if my sister was average, she stuck to her guns
— literally— and I smirked when she scoffed loudly. “I’ll see you when we
get there.”
I hung up before she could even take a breath to protest, and I settled into
my seat to clear my throat roughly. The music we’d been listening to filtered
through the speakers, and I flexed my fingers to get rid of the stiffness. We
were going to be on the highway almost the entire way down, and my brows
furrowed sharply as I tried— and failed— to calculate how far my three-
quarter tank of gas would get me.
“They have kids?” Speaking up from the back seat, Natasha turned her
body to me, and I nodded as I licked my teeth. “Is that why they got
married?”
“Uh, no. They’re happy together, I guess. My aunt doesn’t care about us
kids’ opinions, so anyway, yeah, they have two kids. A set of twins and then
a third who was part of a trio that didn’t make it.” Catching Natasha’s eye in
the rearview mirror, I frowned at the disturbed expression on her face. Oh,
shit, her mom miscarried. Fuck. “Ah, I’m sorry. They got together about
fourteen years ago, and they’re happy, so I guess that’s all that really
matters.”
“It’s okay. Your sister doesn’t know you very well, does she?” That
surprised me, and Natasha’s pretty face lightened a little as she smiled
knowingly. “That you’d hook up with another soldier.”
“Oh, yeah. She’s fucking stupid sometimes.” The flippant dismissal
earned me a little giggle, and I scratched my jaw and tugged my goatee as I
inhaled deeply to get rid of the muck coating my ribs. “They’re all the worst.
I stay really far away from that shit.”
I didn’t really know what else to say about the subject— fucking another
service member was a no-no, and it was too much work anyway. Plus, there
was a high chance shit would go sideways, being around each other, and it
was a huge-ass mess.
Natasha laid down on the back seat, and I twisted to watch her stare at the
passenger seat with longing in her eyes. She fingered the lip of the pouch on
the back, and her lip disappeared between her teeth as we fell into silence.
Focusing on the road, I silently debated pulling over so she could climb up
front if that was what she wanted.
But if I put her on the spot, she’d feel pressured, and I wanted to avoid
that.
“You know, Natasha . . .” Speaking up, my voice cut through the soft
music, and Natasha rustled a little behind me as I trained my eyes on the
road. “You got fired, right. What are you doing for money? You never seem
worried about it.”
“Carlyle found out who was responsible for the bomb a couple days after
it happened.” My brows rose, and my throat tightened as dread flooded the
pit in my stomach. I wasn’t going to like hearing this. “He works fast. He
brought the guy in, the big boss, and was all like, ‘why do you have all these
houses you don’t even use, and they’re homeless because of you’ so the guy
got bullied into giving up all his nice properties. Valerie didn’t want any of
them, so I took them and do Airbnb. It’s all pretty remote, though. I only
schedule the cleaners to come in, make sure things don’t overlap, and the
website does most of the work.”
“What the fuck?” My slur bounced off the front windshield, and Natasha
giggled a little. She’d laughed twice now, and we were only two hours into
our fourteen-hour journey. Warmth in my chest combatted the cold in my
gut, and she inhaled deeply, loudly, before sitting up in the center of the back
seat. For the first time, she wasn’t hanging on the door, ready to jump out,
and accomplishment tightened around my heart.
“It’s a weird story. Basically, the guys that were after us got this other
guy to build the bomb who really worked for this other guy, and Carlyle’s
really scary when he wants to be. No one wants to get on his bad side, so . . .
I guess when you’re that rich and powerful, you know some, um, less than
savory characters.” Pursing my lips thinly, I only nodded. The more I learned
about Carlyle, the more Remmy seemed to be onto something. Maybe
Remmy was spot-fucking-on about Carlyle, and no one believed him because
they didn’t want the hassle.
Of course, I wasn’t gonna think too hard on it. Carlyle seemed to truly
worry about Natasha despite what he’d said so long ago when he ambushed
me at the precinct. Everything she told me may have raised my suspicions,
but she never alluded to anything outright illegal.
Well, unless I counted that shit about her mom and the beasts who abused
her, which I didn’t.
“Carlyle’s involved in the hunt for Baron Ninety-Nine members in
Dallas, isn’t he?” The question slipped out and Natasha tensed, confirming
with just her pause that my suspicion was true. I never had enough pieces
before, but now? “He did it for you two, or it was just part of his crusade?”
“He did it for himself, yeah.” Flexing my hands on the wheel, I nodded
curtly, and she slumped back to twiddle her thumbs out of the corner of my
eye. Her sour frown took over the whole reflection in the mirror, and my
heart beat a little harder. “Okay, I mean, Valerie is an adult. I made us go to
separate colleges because I needed to learn not to be her mom, and she
needed to learn some independence. I don’t think he has a right to come in
and take over just because he’s a little pissed. Carlyle didn’t right those
wrongs on our behalf. Valerie doesn’t even know those guys are dead. He did
it all for himself, and that’s why I can’t stand him. You know he legitimately
dug up my dad and asked me about him? Like, what the fuck?”
“Wasn’t your dad in Witness Protection?” My probe earned me a huff,
and I frowned as I tried to think of a way to change the subject. “It doesn’t
matter, I guess. The point is that you don’t need anyone in your life that’s
going to make your past about themselves. At least you got something out of
it that helps ease the stress.”
“I don’t consider changing my lifestyle to fit how much money I make. It
just makes problems. When I was a teenager, I learned the money is only
based on what you deem valuable. Money only makes practical problems go
away— it can’t fix what’s wrong with my head, even if it does help other
parts of my life. I lived expense-free, basically, for months. I saved a lot. I
don’t really buy much.”
“You buy a lot of wine.” Her eyes narrowed on me, and I smirked slightly
as I twisted to shoot her a wink. Natasha flushed pink, and she ducked her
head to hide in her lustrous hair— despite ripping some out, it wasn’t very
noticeable. “I drank so much in the military. That’s the one thing they teach
you, how to develop an iron gut. If you can’t keep up, you’re gonna die of
alcohol poisoning.”
“Where’s the craziest place you drank?” The slight tension in the air
dissipated, and I inhaled deeply to hold my breath as I thought about that.
There’d been so many places, so much beer, but I now limited myself to two
beers at a time.
“Ah, I was in Egypt once and got railed at a Pizza Hut in the shadow of
the Great Pyramids. That was wild. I think my favorite place that I ever had a
beer was in Germany. I was still a Navy sailor at the time, and we were going
on tours. We went to the World War Two Memorials in Germany and France
and all that. There’s something insane about it— it was like I was sharing a
beer with those ghosts. I don’t know how to explain it, like I was connected
to so many people who were just like me, soldiers fighting for reasons they
didn’t truly comprehend until the last seconds of their lives.” My mouth dried
a little, and I licked my lips as somberness gripped my heart in a vice. “Being
there was surreal. You see pictures of it, but it’s. . . it was intense.”
Natasha was quiet at that, and I flexed my hands around the wheel as
memories floated behind my eyes. Even now, eighty years later, the suffering
seeped up from the empty graves, and, at the time, it changed my entire
fucking life. I realized suffering wasn’t uniform or unique— everything I
went through on the battlefield, someone else had already gone through. No
one was unique in the pain they endured, only the way they handled it.
29

Natasha
“You said your parents didn’t make a lot of money, and you had a rough life,
right? But you grew up in the same house?” Curiosity couldn’t explain this
burning need to know about Erik’s home and childhood, and I leaned forward
as he pulled in front of a gas pump. He put the car in park, twisting to release
the tension of driving for hours from his spine, and a thoughtful expression
drenched his features as he shook his head firmly.
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly. The kid to income ratio was super off. I
have four brothers and two sisters. My older sister, Lisa, lives in Hawaii and
studies volcanos and stuff, so we never see her. Anyway, I mean, it was
really because my mom popped out too many kids, and my dad was the one
working.” A soft ‘ah’ escaped me, and Erik popped open his door before I
followed suit. Down so far south, the air was warm if a bit nippy, but the sun
was still out even though it was nearly four p.m. “Both my parents come
from big families, so it’s not something they didn’t know how to cope with, I
guess is the best way to explain it. They knew from their own experiences
how to get by.”
“Did you want to go into the military?”
“I never considered anything else.” Climbing out of the car, I stretched
my arms high above my head, and Erik’s t-shirt covered my shorts almost
completely. Flexing my toes in my sneakers, I took a huge breath, and he
rolled his shoulders before continuing. “I was going into the military. There
was no doubt about that. Even if I only did my four years and left, it was just
going to happen. It wasn’t about wanting to or not. Now, though, thinking
back on it, I wish I had done something else after those four years that
could’ve benefited me as a civilian.”
“Yeah. They’ll pay for your college, right? You can’t do that?” He
shrugged carelessly, and I couldn’t help but smile as he rubbed his head and
neck in discomfort at the very idea of it. “College isn’t for everyone.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I do know that even if I was going
to get a job, it wouldn’t be behind a desk. When you went, how’d you like
it?” Humming softly as Erik sauntered to the pump, I leaned on the back
passenger door to cross my arms. The smell of gas and fried chicken mingled
in the air, but I had to work to remember college. All the drama of being
without Valerie aside for the first time, college sucked.
“It was awful, to be honest. Valerie and I had scholarships collected from
a survivor charity, but I had so much catch-up to do. I barely passed high
school because I had a hard time reading. My teachers fudged my grades to
get me the credits I needed to pass, but that was because they believed in my
potential, not what I was showing. Even the judge who presided over our
family court thing after we were rescued contributed to the fund.” Inhaling
deeply through flared nostrils, I stared dazedly at the concrete ledge of the
pump’s plinth as my thoughts raced. “He presided over our emancipation. He
saw us stand up and signed it before we were even in front of him.”
“Did you ever see him again?” Shaking my head, I lifted my face to the
warm sun. We were so far south that sunset wouldn’t come for another hour
or so. “It’s always a toss-up with old people. Either they’re amazing, or
they’re nasty old hags. There’s not much of an in-between.”
“Yeah. I once had this ancient old lady tell me I was holding up the line at
the coffee place because I asked for extra caramel drizzle. She spent ten
minutes trying to get the barista to accept her two-year-old coupon.” I
couldn’t help but smile now at that scenario, but at the time, it’d been
frustrating as all Hell. Erik snorted, and I pushed myself off the side of the
car to round the back. “I’m gonna get a snack. Want something?”
“Yeah, a couple granola bars and some water. Thanks.” Wandering my
way to the station, I pulled open the door to get blasted with thick, greasy air
from the fried chicken place attached. Wandering down the first aisle, I gazed
at all of the options, but nothing made my mouth water. Chips, candy, more
chips.
“Ugh.” I hadn’t eaten a chip of any kind since I was in college. The
stench made my stomach queasy. Turning to the next aisle, I slowed my pace
to pause, gazing at the peanuts and cashews and little boxes of Goldfish.
Picking one up, I rubbed the milk-carton-shaped cardboard with my thumbs.

“You like Goldfish?” Shaking my head automatically, I turned away

from the shelf and a hand landed on my shoulder to stop me. Tensing,
I gulped down the sudden tightness in my throat, and that deep voice
sounded closer to my ear. “I heard from Jose about you. I’ll get you a
couple boxes if you do something for me.”
 “They’re my favorite.” My murmur echoed in my ears, and I blinked
hard, and I set the box down to such in a shaky breath. “They were.”
“Natasha?” Jumping at the soft call, my head whipped up, and Erik
cautiously stepped forward. “You alright? You’ve been in here for almost ten
minutes.”
“I changed my mind. I don’t want anything.” Erik’s cheek twitched in a
slight smile, and my eyes widened when he held out his hands for me. The
flatness in my own voice rang in my head, and I cupped my forehead as a
raspy, shaky sigh concaved my chest. “Shit.”
“Do you need a minute, sweetheart?” Shaking my head furiously, I
inhaled shallowly through trembling lips, and I covered my mouth to hide it.
My heart squeezed in my chest, and I wheezed as my vision doubled.
“Natasha, look at me, sweetheart.”
Burning. My throat was burning, and I wrapped my hands around my
neck to use my forearms to stop my heart from leaping out of my chest. My
lungs were on fire, and they refused to fill even a little bit, even a few of the
smallest sacks. Erik’s lips moved, but I couldn’t hear him above the blood
roaring in my ears. The shimmering of worry and uncertainty in his eyes was
too bright, and I crouched down to cover my head.
A strangled whimpered ground from between my clenched my teeth, and
a beat of sweat trailed down my neck. Panting harshly, I rocked back and
forth as Erik slowly weaved his fingers between mine. Squeezing my eyes
shut tightly, I scrunched up my nose as my nostrils dried to the point of
stinging.
“Natasha, just breathe.” Erik’s garble swaggered into my ears leisurely,
casually, and my body broke out in goosebumps under his borrowed shirt.
“Yeah, it’s alright. It’s alright, sweetheart.”
“Listen, okay, either you take her to the car, or I have to call an
ambulance, man. That’s policy. You can’t just sit on the floor in the middle
of the aisle.”
“Kid, put the wet floor sign up or something and go away.” My heart
throbbed painfully, and I clutched my chest even as my vision went from
doubled to plain red and watery. Squeezing and releasing my hands gingerly,
Erik murmured over the sound of footfall and grumbles. “It’s okay, Natasha.
Breathe.”
Shit, shit, shit! “Erik—” Croaking hoarsely, I leaned forward to rest my
forehead on Erik’s hard, tense shoulder, and he cupped the back of my head
with a strong palm. Rubbing my scalp gingerly, he sucked his teeth softly,
and I focused on the even, stable sound. “It hurts . . . my chest.”
“It’s alright. I’ll get you some water, Natasha.” Falling back onto my butt,
I gasped for air, and Erik rushed from my side as the pressure slowly seeped
from my ears. Pushing my clammy palms into my eyes, I ground my teeth as
I struggled to get my heart to calm down. Cracking my eyes open, I stared
blearily at the worn tiles on the floor, but they were a sea of white,
indistinguishable from each other. Crouching down next to me, Erik pressed
the cold bottle to my cheek and neck, and I slumped a little as frigid ice
prickled down my chest in waves.
“You okay? What happened?” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth,
and I puffed a sharp sigh to inhale deeply through my nose. Uncapping the
bottle, Erik held it out for me, and my hands trembled while I took shallow
sips. Cold eased the strain on my chest, and I only stopped to pant furiously
as my lungs screamed to be filled.
“That’s a dumb question.” Erik pursed his lips thin, concern knitting his
brows, and he propped his forearms on his knees to stare at me silently,
expectantly. Sniffling hard, I shook my head a little before struggling to stand
up, and my knees wobbled dangerously. “I can’t even get a snack without
fucking it up. This stopped happening, like, my third year in college. I
thought I was over it.”
“It’s happened before? Why didn’t you tell me?” He took my hand, like it
would suck the answer out of my soul even though I simply shrugged.
Frowning at me, Erik tucked the bottle under his arm to rub his hand through
his hair, and I took a deeper, stabilizing breath. “Natasha, maybe you’re not
as calm about this as we thought. We don’t have to go to my parents if you
can’t handle it.”
“No, I want to go.” Objecting quickly, I ignored the queasiness in my
stomach at the notion, but I forced myself to nod. Erik’s eyes narrowed on
me searchingly, and I cleared my raw throat roughly as the pain in my chest
devolved into a lingering tightness.
30

Erik
I parked down the road from the entrance to my family’s ranch, but I knew
we were late as I climbed out of the car. Natasha had changed in a
McDonalds bathroom, and I glanced over the roof as she fluffed out her hair.
She downright refused to talk to me about what happened at the rest stop, and
I couldn’t figure out why. Obviously, she had a flashback or something, but
that didn’t seem like the ones I was accustomed to.
Which was fucked up. Accustomed to mental breakdowns? What the Hell.
“Do you think I look okay?” Snapping from my thoughts, I automatically
nodded, and Natasha shot me a playful glare as she fully rounded the front of
my car. Holding out her arms, her gaze turned expectant, almost excited, and
I scanned her from top to bottom as I rocked back on my heels. She wore a
pair of light capris, a thin, silky checkered shirt hanging from her shoulders,
and nice, pale blue sneakers. Everything matched, and I nodded before she
pulled her hair into a loose bun. “Up or down?”
“Ah, up?” Working her hair tie around and around, Natasha showed off
her slender neck, and I smiled appreciatively. Her bracelet jingled lightly, and
warmth suffused my chest at the mundaneness of this moment. “You’re very
beautiful, Natasha. Do you have an outfit for everything?”
“I packed this specifically.” The flippant admission made her freeze, and
I couldn’t help but laugh heartily as she tinged pink up to her ears. “Shut up.”
“How are you feeling?” Changing to subject as I walked over to grab her
hand, Natasha and I headed down the road toward the driveway. “You look
excited, now that we’re here.”
“I am excited. I mean, why wouldn’t I be?” Inhaling the fresh, damp air
of semi-rural South Carolina, I held it for a moment as I thought on that
question. Grassy fields stretched about an acre on either side of the road, but I
could still see houses poking out of the landscape. I hadn’t grown up here,
but I wished I had— it was a beautiful, beautiful place.
“As you may have already figured out, my dad is a huge asshole. The
good thing is, if he doesn’t like you, you’ll know it right away. The better
thing is that if he doesn’t like you, everyone else will be more inclined to
want to like you.” Natasha barked a laugh at my declaration, and I scratched
my goatee absently as we walked up the lip of the driveway. There wasn’t
much more of a warning I could give her when a car pulled up beside us, and
I paused as Mary rolled down the window to smile at me brightly. “Hey,
Mary, congratulations on shortening your leash.”
“I almost didn’t recognize you with such a pretty girl on your arm. Your
big head gave you away, though.” Swiping out at her with a chuckle, I
tightened my grip on Natasha’s hand as she practically hid behind me.
Mary’s bouncy, blonde hair shimmered in the strong sunlight of the south,
and she leaned over the center console even more. “Hey, Jason came here
early, but I had to get the kids from after-school. You want a ride down?”
“Ah, no, thanks. It’s been months since I saw the sun. You know, it’s like
thirty degrees in New York right now.” Understanding flooded my sister-in-
law’s face as she craned her neck, and I gestured down the driveway. “Good
luck with parking.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll just park on the lawn. I don’t care.” She waved a
manicured hand before taking off, and I chuffed a laugh as I shook my head.
Mary was a firecracker, and I tangled my fingers between Natasha’s as we
continued to walk. In New York, it hadn’t snowed until after Christmas, and
the cold still blocked out the sun even though it was nearly Spring.
“You said she was a war reporter and that’s how she met your brother,
right?” The question kinda threw me, and I cast Natasha a curious glance as
she gnawed on her lower lip. “Do . . . do you think she’d be open to talking to
me? About war, and who gets caught in the middle.”
“I’m sure she’d be delighted, but you really have to ask her, Natasha.”
We were nearly the end of the driveway, and cars sparkled as their shiny
paints and edges reflected the sun. The house itself rose up modestly from
behind a plain, short fence, but it was behind the structure where the party
was. As promised, Mary was parked on the lawn, digging into her trunk, and
I tugged Natasha over. “Mary, hey, you need any help?”
“Uh, no. I got it.” Casting her a look, I pursed my lips thinly, and my
sister-in-law’s baby blue eyes flickered to Natasha. “But I don’t want to make
two trips. There’s a ton of shit in here since Jason ran away before I could
pile it on him. Go ahead.”
Releasing Natasha’s hand, I reached into the trunk to grab the cooler, and
it was surprisingly heavy.
“What the fuck is in here? Bodies?” Mary scowled as I jostled the rather
large, plastic box, and I winced when it tilted hard to the side. “What the shit,
Mary?”
“There’s ice and meat in there. Like I said, I couldn’t dump it on Jason.
You offered, Erik. Just go . . . go away.” Shooing me off, Mary grabbed two
cases of beer, and Natasha grabbed a third, before she used her foot sensor to
shut the trunk of her SUV. “You know, you really lucked out. These guys,
they know how to avoid deadly situations. What’s your name? Big Head
didn’t introduce us. I’m Mary, his sister-in-law.”
Rolling my eyes, I strode for the side of the house and left them to talk.
Natasha needed at least one friend, and no one was a better friend than Mary.
Music pumped through the air, and I bopped my head to the faint twang of
country as it covered the conversations going on.
The back yard, which was really a field, had been decorated to a point
with balloons and chairs and games. Tables upon tables of food to feed the
fifty-odd people were scattered around, and I skirted the back patio to drop
my burden by the grill. My dad had a whole setup, complete with a sink, for
some reason, and I set the cooler by the others hiding behind the counter.
“Erik! Hey!” My head snapped up, and I grinned as Jason slid over the
counter to grapple me into a hug. Patting his back hard, I closed my eyes to
relish the feel of him. We didn’t always have the best relationship, but now
that we were in our thirties, it was always a pleasure to see him. Pulling back
to hold my shoulders, Jason shook me a little and I shrugged him off before
sighing heavily. “What’s up with you, man? You look good. New York must
not be treating you as bad as you bitch about.”
“No, it’s that bad. My rental from the precinct is up before the end of the
month, and I’m not going back. Screw that shit.” Jason’s eyes bored into
mine as they narrowed, and I frowned when he clapped a solemn hand on my
shoulder. “What?”
“I know this is going to be hard for you to hear, Erik, but . . . ” Alarm
bells rang in my head, and Jason gave a soft sigh and slight shake of his head.
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Hey! I’ll kick your ass!” Pushing him a little harder than necessary, I
grinned when he barely managed to avoid tripping over a cooler and landing
on his ass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Natasha and Mary appear out
from the side of the house, and I lost all interest in my brother. She looked so
. . . so . . .
“Is that your girlfriend?” Nodding absently, I stroked my beard as
Natasha laughed at something Mary said, and heat flooded my veins. “She’s
got some demons, huh. You can tell just glancing at her.”
“She’ll be alright. You know, Jason, it’s like all the shit I went through
was to help with her, almost.” There was no point in lying to Jason, and I
rubbed my neck and shoulder as he grunted softly in acknowledgment. “It’s
tough— tougher than anything I’ve ever voluntarily put myself through.”
“I’m sure it is.” Natasha was introduced to Mary’s kids before people
started to notice her, and I inhaled sharply as I stepped away only to get
grabbed by Jason. My brother frowned, shaking his head, and my lips thinned
as I turned back to Natasha. Mary, I knew she could hold her own. She’d
been doing it for almost fifteen years. But . . .
“She’s doing okay, or doing a really good job hiding how nervous she is.”
Jason was a self-proclaimed expert in human behavior, and, I mean, he’d
spent enough time figuring out why monsters were monsters and how they
became that way. Natasha shook one of my aunt’s hand, and Jason grumbled
deep in his chest. “She was . . . ”
“Don’t, Jason.” If they weren’t already, my brother’s suspicions were
confirmed when Natasha left my Uncle Jay hanging, refusing to shake his
hand as she hid hers behind her back. “I’m sure it won’t take you long to
figure it out.”
31

Erik
“Natasha.” Sitting under the tree next to her, I settled down and stretched my
legs as she sipped her Twisted Tea leisurely. “Not so bad, right? We got
pretty lucky, Mike’s not here yet.”
“They’re very nice. Are things gonna get awkward around Mike?” Lifting
my beer to my lips as she posed her question, I shrugged slightly. It was
always a toss-up whether or not shit would go down. “You said no one likes
him.”
“Sometimes, there’s drama. Other times, there’s not really much to say. I
mean, my siblings and I don’t like him, but everyone else is pretty okay with
him. I honestly don’t know why it’s just us who gets this unease around
him.” There was no other way to explain it, and Natasha hummed against the
lip of her bottle as I gazed out into the backyard. Jason and Cathy were
playing a game of cornhole, and my dad was getting ready to fire up the grill.
We’d been here less than half an hour, but I knew I’d dodged a bullet.
If we got here after Mike and my Aunt Kathy, who knows what kind of
vibes would be going around right now.
“It must be nice, living in such a big family, having so many people you
can rely on. Mary is really nice.” That was the third time in about as many
seconds that Natasha said ‘nice’, and I nodded quietly as she twirled her
bottle between her palms. “I thought I’d be swamped with questions and
stuff.”
“My mom’s probably dying inside to know more about you, but she’s the
kind to ask in private, or at least not in front of fifty people.” Smiling slightly,
I scanned the yard for my mom, her greys shimmering brightly in the mid-
day sun. She kept looking over despite her conversation, and I rubbed my
head absently as a sigh escaped me. “I’ve never brought a woman home
before, but she’s probably the only one that cares too much.”
“Every man here was in the military?” Nodding firmly, my cheeks
crested in a smile, and Natasha smiled back as an ease settled on her face that
I hadn’t seen before. “That’s kinda amazing, you know.”
“It is. I went into the SEALs, but Jason is in the Army Reserves, and
there’s a few Airforce pilots and whatnot. All different branches. As long as
you go in somehow. It doesn’t matter if you do your four or you do twenty-
five, you gotta go in. Otherwise, you’ll get shit on for the rest of your life.”
She huffed a quiet laugh, and I took another swig of my beer before
continuing. “Are you having an alright time?”
“I’m okay. I’m a little out of my element, but what can you realistically
expect?” The bark against my back dug into my shoulders as I slumped a
little, and Natasha made this noise of content as her fingers crept over my
own on the grass. “I knew I wouldn’t pass the tests, but if I could’ve, I
would’ve gone into the military just because the schooling, the healthcare, all
that stuff.”
“Yeah, they’re really strict about the psychological test. Have you ever
shot a gun besides that one time?” She shook her head, and I tilted mine back
quizzically. “Wanna try it?”
“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s a lot of people around.”
“Nah, we have a range thing set up in the back. Kids aren’t allowed back
there. Let’s go.” Pushing myself up, I tugged Natasha’s hand, and she didn’t
protest as excitement threaded my veins. “What kind of gun was it?”
“I don’t know? A small one?” It was probably a pistol. If I was going to
execute someone, it’d be with a pistol. They were easier to handle. Nodding,
I scanned the yard for Cathy and Mark, and I left Natasha to go walk over to
a table piled with junk food.
“Hey, you guys wanna go do some shooting?” I tried not to ask too
loudly, but Jason heard from twenty feet away, and he practically knocked
me over in his haste to get in on this. Cathy nodded eagerly, and Mark kinda
shrugged, but he wasn’t a big gun fan— he preferred martial arts. “Awesome,
let’s go.”
“Dad! Dad! Can I come? Just to watch?” Bryan bounced around with
excitement, but Jason was already shaking his head, and the kid pouted hard.
“No, you know you can’t until you’re sixteen, Bryan. Them's the rules.
Go ahead, try to complain to your mom. I dare you.” Bryan was thirteen, the
oldest, and he didn’t even bother to protest as he slunk off, scuffing his shoes
against the grass. Jason rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, and Natasha
appeared behind my arm as my brother spoke up. “That kid’s way too eager.
Mary and I are talking about sending him to that camp you went to, Erik, just
to beat it out of him.”
“I don’t know if that’s the best idea. That place only made me want to
serve more because I knew I could.” Jason waved me off, and we started
heading toward the barn at the back of the property in a group. “Now that
you’re here for good, why don’t you just do it yourself?”
“What? You mean actually discipline my kid? What a concept.” Natasha
popped up on my other side, away from everyone else, and I scowled darkly
even as I took her hand. Jason glared at me weakly, but he shrugged it off
after a second. “Bryan’s not a troubled kid, so there’s no need for that. He
just . . . doesn’t understand the weight. He thinks it’s all glitz and greatness,
and the video games— man, I fucking hate the video games.”
“You can’t be that upset. He idolizes his father, Jason. Bryan’s fourteen
— he’s interested in that shit.” Speaking up on my side, Cathy ignored
Jason’s disgruntled snort, and I pulled open the barn door. Everyone shuffled
in but Natasha, talking amongst themselves, and she squeezed my hand hard
with a deep breath. My cautious curiosity muted by the determination in her
eyes, and I smiled encouragingly.
We had a lot of guns in this family. There were plenty of options that
weren’t a pistol.
“You ever shot a gun, Natasha?” Cathy turned on the floodlights to
illuminate the cases, and Natasha tensed next to me. There were at least
twenty pieces, some of them with historical significance and others who were
for shooting fun. I popped the top of the one closest to me. “What are you
getting that one out for? She’s never shot a gun. Look at her.”
“Do you need to leave, Cathy?” Picking up a pretty stable rifle, I shot my
sister a nasty glare, and she huffed indignantly as she crossed her arms. Her
short, brown hair tied tight in a bun, every part of her screaming ‘I just got
back’— pure aggression— but I really had no time for her know-it-all
attitude. “That’s what I thought.”
“She’ll be fine with this, Cathy. Stop trying to steal Erik’s girlfriend.”
Our sister tensed, anger flaring in her eyes as embarrassment flooded her
cheeks, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Her brief stint exploring her sexuality
was hilarious in the extreme, and she clenched her hands tightly by her sides
as Jason flung an arm over her shoulders. “Relax. I was hoping you’d be less
of a bitch right now considering you just got back, but obviously, I was
wrong.”
“I’ll fucking kick your ass—" He held up his hand to silence her, and
Cathy stormed out of the barn with a shriek of frustration. For a moment,
there was silence, and Mark spoke up for the first time, his voice level and
thoughtful as always.
“Why do you do that, Jason? You two are gonna get into a fight at some
point, and who knows? Maybe, she will kick your ass. You’re a pencil pusher
now, remember.” Jason’s shit-eating grin was all the answer he needed, and
Mark sighed before turning to Natasha to nod politely. “We haven’t been
introduced, yet. I’m Mark, Erik’s second eldest brother.”
Mark didn’t try to extend his hand. He must’ve been watching when
Natasha only shook the girls’ hands. She gave a little wave, and I cleared my
throat roughly as I adjusted my grip on the rifle and turned to her.
“Ready to learn to handle this?”
32

Natasha
“I . . . I hit it.” My breathless whisper nearly knocked me off my feet, and my
lips quirked up. Heat slithered up my neck, and my sternum tingled as icy
prickles swept in waves down my torso. “I hit it.”
“You did on your first try, too.” The bang of the shot still rang in my ears
as I turned to Erik, and he smiled encouragingly. “Try again.”
“Uh, um, n-no. I’ll be one-zero. It’ll be fantastic.” I held out the gun, and
Erik nodded with a grin as he took it. Rubbing my hands on my jeans, I
inhaled sharply, and the smell of barn wood flooded my lungs. My gut
tightened, and I stepped back from the huge barn doors as he shouldered the
strap. “It wasn’t as . . . jarring as I expected.”
“The person you shot, did he deserve it?” The question struck me hard,
and I turned to Jason as he locked eyes with me. “You never said you didn’t,
that’s why I made Cathy leave. If she knew, she’d report you. Cathy’s not a
soldier— she just wants to be special, and reporting is the ‘right’ thing to do.”
“It was my mom.” Like Erik, Jason’s cheek twitched, his eyes narrowed,
his shoulders tensing. He seemed to grow physically in realization and anger.
Scrunching up my nose, I sucked my teeth, and Erik took my hand to rub
with his thumb. “She did. Why do you say she’s not a soldier?”
“I mean, she has the title. She’s a soldier in the sense that she’s got the
job,but she’s doing it for glory, not for the regular reasons— patriotism,
family, free fucking college and job opportunity. Cathy does it to make
herself special, to do something very few other women can or want to do. She
likes being the good one.”
“She’s not the good one. I’m good.” My eyes narrowed into slits, and my
lip curled as I clenched my fists by my sides. Jason stiffened, and I pointed
my finger in his face as a hard shiver lodged between my shoulder blades.
“I’m good.”
“Natasha.” A huge hand wrapped around mine, and I blinked hard, and a
horrified gasp breached my teeth. Stepping back, I tore my eyes off Jason to
glare at the barn floor, and silence rang in my ears. “Take a breath. It’s okay.”
“I’m okay. I’m sorry, I . . . ” My teeth clicked together hard when I closed
my mouth, and I shuttered my eyelids tight to take a deep, calming breath.
Rolling my head and shoulders, I exhaled a shuddering sigh, and Jason and
Mark both watched me with the same, critical brown eyes. “I’m fine. Just . . .
don’t say that, please.”
“Mmm.” Jason hummed softly and I forced my eyes open even as
colorful spots assaulted their edges. “I apologize. How about we get back to
the party? I could use a beer.”
“You and your sister were on the news.” Speaking up quickly, Mark
nodded to himself as his older brother took his gun, and my expression
soured darkly. “That’s where I remember you from.”
“You’re probably the only twenty-two-year-old in the world who
religiously watches nationwide news on individual outlets online, Mark.”
Squeezing my hand comfortingly, Erik, his brother, and I walked back to the
gun cases so he could put away the rifle. “Anyway, this conversation is over.
We’re not talking about it anymore.”
“I guess it’s not something to dredge up from over ten years ago. I mean,
I work for intelligence. I can’t help being good with faces.” My brows rose at
that, and Mark shot me a sly smile as he rubbed his buzzed head free of dust
from the barn. “I’m almost positive no one else will recognize you. It was a
lot time ago.”
His attempt to reassure me was endearing, and I simply nodded as the
pressure eased off my chest. Rubbing the spot with the butt of my palm, I
gulped down the tightness in my throat, and we left the barn to be engulfed in
unfiltered, cloudless sunshine. Gazing out at the beautiful landscape, I
couldn’t help but be struck by how quaint everything seemed. I’d never been
on a farm, and I’d stuck to mid-sized cities that wouldn’t remind me of
Dallas.
“Your mom seems really nice.” Changing the conversation none-too-
subtly, I could feel her staring even at this end of the yard, and Erik snorted a
laugh. “Everyone seems really nice.”
“Oh, damnit.” When we got close enough to feel the music pumping
through the air, Erik paused, and I frowned under furrowed brows. “Mike’s
here.”
“Don’t bother, Erik. It’s not worth it.” His hand around mine tightened,
flashed a little warmer for a fraction of a second, and Jason clapped a hand on
Erik’s shoulder hard. Strolling past us, Jason and Mark left us a dozen yards
from the edge of the party, and the embarrassment I should’ve felt back in the
barn roared up to clench my gut in a vice.
“Oh, my God, that was so damn . . . I can’t believe I did that. I’m so
sorry, Erik—" Holding up a hand to stop my apology, Erik smiled
sympathetically, and I cleared my throat roughly as he turned to face me
fully.
“He didn’t know what set you off, but now he does. It’s alright. No
worries.” Gnawing on my bottom lip furiously, I jerked my head in a nod,
and he cupped the back of my head to massage my scalp gingerly. “Relax.
Jason and Mark are the smart ones around here, but that doesn’t mean anyone
else will ambush you. You want me to beat him up?”
“No.” Smiling a little at the offer, I huffed a small laugh, and Erik grinned
as the sun shimmered off the smoothness of his crown. “I don’t know,
maybe.”
“Just say the word.” We starting walking again, and I caressed the coarse
hairs on the back of his knuckles as my mind wandered some. This wasn’t
nearly as uncomfortable as I was expecting. My excitement earlier had been
thickened with anxiety, but no one asked me any questions. There was this air
of . . . of relaxation and calm, and no one judged me for what I did or didn’t
do . . . at least, not outright.
Of course, they were all simply being polite. They just met me, and Erik
never brought someone here before. It could be wariness on his family’s part.
“Hey, Mom.” Speaking up a little louder than he should’ve, Erik tugged
my arm gently, and I blinked hard before his mom appeared. She wore her
greys and wrinkles well, and an automatic smile stretched my lips as a
tightness strained my heart. “What’s up?”
“I’m taking grill orders. What do you two want? We got steaks, hotdogs,
hamburgers, and porkchops . . . ” Trailing off, Erik’s mom arched a brow
quizzically at me, and I blurted out the first thing on her list. Questions
swirled in her hazel eyes, but she kept them to herself as she turned to her
son. “I already know you’ll pick a burger.”
“You know me so well, Mom.” She rolled her eyes, flashing a smile with
white teeth before walking off into the crowd, and I crossed my arms over my
stomach as it grumbled hungrily. “See, told you she would keep her mouth
shut.”
“Yeah, I believed you, Erik.” We started walking again, the longish grass
tickled my bare ankles, and I inhaled the fresh, warm air to sigh heavily. “It’s
kinda surreal, to be honest.”
 “You’re doing a great job, though. That could’ve been a lot worse in
there, you know. I’m really proud of you, Natasha.” His praise warmed my
cheeks and eased the tightness in my chest, and I ducked my head as Erik
squeezed my hand firmly. “It’s true, though, about Cathy. She’ll rat you out
because it’s the ‘right’ thing to do, and it’ll intensify her halo.”
“Yeah, I . . . ” My words dried on my tongue when I saw a flash of long,
brown hair flailing in the breeze, and I halted mid-stride. This little girl
talking to a few other little kids, she looked exactly like me when I was
twelve years old. She was a little taller than the other kids, and had a nose
and mouth just like mine, even though her face was a little wider than mine.
“Who’s that?”
“That’s Natalia. Why?” The blood drained from my face, and I whipped
around on my heel to take a huge breath and cover my mouth to hide my
frown.
“You said she’s a twin. What’s her twin’s name?”
“Valentine.” Dread burrowed deep into my gut, and goosebumps washed
my entire body as Erik positioned himself right in front of me. Twisting to
glance over my shoulder, my eyes narrowed to search for the faces I didn’t
recognize when we’d rolled up. “What? What? I don’t get it?”
Holy shit, holy shit, holy fucking shit! A bark of humorless laughter burst
from my throat as the music changed, and that little girl looked at me. She
looked at me with my eyes. Clamping my hand over my mouth, I turned back
around as disbelief surged through my veins, and my heart throbbed
painfully.
I was going to have a heart attack. This couldn’t be happening!
“What’s wrong?” My face heated until my cheeks threatened to melt off,
and I hiccupped a shallow, ragged breath as I closed my eyes. Abruptly, my
dazed mind caught up with what I saw, and I twisted again to peek at that
girl, still staring at me in confusion. Even then, she looked so much like me,
and she didn’t break eye contact until her sister came up to her.
33

Erik
I saw it. I fucking saw it in her eyes, even though I didn’t understand it.
Natasha straightened, a fury shaking her arms noticeably as she panted
through flared nostrils. I saw the second she gave up trying to control herself,
and I saw the shimmer of absolute apoplexy that rippled across her features.
She let go of my hand to roll her shoulders, take a massive breath and hold it,
and there was no point in asking any more questions.
She probably couldn’t hear me, anyway.
“Luke. Hey, Luke.” Gesturing my little brother over, I held a finger to my
lips at his questioning glance as Natasha turned back to the crowd. Several
people were staring at her now, and I licked my lips at the sudden, crushing
tension in the air. “I might need your help in a sec.”
“I’m down to break up a fight.” Nodding in thanks, I didn’t have a chance
to open my mouth again when Natasha strode forward. We followed at a safe
distance, and I scanned the yard as more and more people noticed what was
going on. If there was one thing I wasn’t dense about, it was violent intent,
and everyone felt it. All the conversation stopped, the backyard eerily quiet
and confused, and I pursed my lips thinly when Natasha made her way
toward the patio. Mike and my dad manned the double grills, and my dad
noticed her before Mike did.
Natasha didn’t say anything as she rounded the counter, and she moved
so fast even I almost missed it. She smashed her fist into Mike’s face so hard
the crack of bones breaking echoed above the music pumping from the
speakers. He fell back into the house’s siding, and Luke and I both leaped
forward to grab her when she tried to advance on him again.
“What the fuck! Wh—" My words dried on my tongue when I glanced at
Natasha’s face. I had never seen her so emotionless. Not when she talked
about killing her mom. Not when she talked about her past. She was
completely blank— there was no trace of that rage she just displayed. Maybe,
it was the fact that she didn’t struggle, but Luke and I both lost our grip on
her when she lunged like a fucking animal.
“Stop!” Before I could snatch her, Natasha was jabbing Mike in the face
again, and I wrapped her in a bear hug to get her off him. Her sneakered foot
flung up, catching him right in the chin, and Mike let out a pained cry that
seemed to break the barrier in her.
“You . . . you fucking piece of shit. You think that hurts? I’ll fucking hurt
you! You . . . you asshole! You monster!” Dragging Natasha around the
house as she screamed and flailed violently, I hissed when she scratched my
arms, and Luke had to wrestle her legs. Jason flew into my field of vision,
and it took the three of us to pin Natasha on the grass. “L-let me go! Let me
go! That fucker! I’m gonna fucking kill you! You’re dead, you son of a
bitch!”
“What the hell, Erik?” Holding both her forearms beside her head, I
glanced up through narrowed eyes as Jason and Luke both held a leg, and
Natasha writhed like a snake. “Not that I don’t get it, but—"
“I have no fucking idea, Jason. And we’re not gonna get anything out of
her like this.” I didn’t like Mike from the moment I met him, but this . . . this
was far beyond simply feeling off about the guy. Sniffing hard as Natasha’s
bloodied knuckles stained the grass, I winced when she panted so hard that
spittle and snot dribbled down her cheek. “She asked about Natalia and then
fucking blew up.”
A cold sweat dribbled down my back, and my brain ran rampant trying to
figure out what the fuck was happening. Natasha stopped struggling at some
point, but that vast emptiness in her eyes made me not want to let go of her.
Taking both her hands in mine, I squeezed and released, trying to get her to
snap out of it, and Mark came careening around the corner of the house with
my dad.
“I demand an explanation! What the hell just happened!” My dad’s
booming, authoritative tone blanketed me in iron, and he glared hotly at me
as he propped his fists on his hips. “Erik—"
“I don’t know, okay. Can you just fucking give me a minute to figure this
shit out? Back the fuck off.” Turning to Natasha as she spasmed weakly on
the ground, I pursed my lips thinly as I tried to think. Everything was fine
until Natasha saw Natalia.
Wait . . . Nat and Nat. Val and Val. Fourteen years ago, Natasha
would’ve been twelve, and that’s when her dad faked his death.
“Mark, can you pull up a picture of that news report from Dallas fourteen
years ago?” Dread sharpened my tone, and Mark pulled out his cell phone to
type away on the screen. Expectancy thickened the air, and my elder brother
tensed as his head whipped up and around.
“Oh, no. Oh, fuck no.” I could tell he didn’t want to show me the
pictures, but Mark slowly turned his phone to me, and Jason gasped audibly.
At twelve, Natasha looked exactly like Natalia. They could be genetically
identical twins with their pictures side by side. “Erik, this is bad.”
“He replaced her.” Mike— which wasn’t even his name— had new kids
and used the same names as his first. He abandoned Natasha and replaced her
with a look-alike and treated that look-alike better than he had the original.
Because he didn’t like her, her mother, because it was easier to leave and
forget.
“Erik.” Caution thickened Mark’s voice, and blood droned in my ears as
my heart thundered against its cage. “Erik, don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m gonna kill him.” Grinding the declaration through my teeth, I panted
as rage enflamed my lungs, and my vision spotted at the corners. “I’m gonna
kill him.”
“Wait, wait, wait, okay. What about Natasha? Maybe she wants to kill
him. Don’t make this about you, Erik.”
“Will someone explain what the fuck is going on!” The hairs on the back
of my neck stood up at my dad’s bellow, and emotions battled in my chest.
Natasha’s wasn’t my story to tell, even a little bit, and I blinked hard and
shook my head to clear my eyes. A brave tear trailed down to drip into her
hair off her ear, and I winced as I nodded to my brothers to let her go.
“Does this mean we have to break up? We’re cousins. That’s so fucked
up.” A hysteric croak of a giggle escaped Natasha, and I squeezed her hands
as hard as I dared to keep my own grip on sanity. “That’s so fucked up.
That’s so fucked up.”
“No, no, no, we’re not breaking up, Natasha.” My voice cracked at the
sick sense of humor that clung to my ribs like black tar, and she repeated the
sentence over and over again.
“What the Hell does that mean?” Huffing a hot breath, I sat back on my
heels to sniff hard as my chest emptied of everything. My dad glared at me
for an answer, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Stunned
silence met Natasha’s declaration, and Jason covered his face with both his
hands while everyone else was just plain confused.
“Is he conscious?” Mark nodded, rocking back on his heels as he stuffed
both his tightly clenched fists into his jeans, and I cleared my throat roughly.
“I knew there was a reason I hated him so much.”
 “Oh, my God. Is it his fault that she—" Nodding as my eldest brother cut
himself off in horror, I managed a shallow, burning breath before helping
Natasha to her feet. She hung on me heavily, the most she’d ever touched me
in all the instances combined, and I carefully wrapped my arm around her
waist. Frigid to the touch, she trembled violently, and Jason growled low in
his throat. “I’ll get you some water.”
“Thanks.” Jason disappeared behind the side of the house, and I turned to
Natasha as she developed a green hue. “Do you need to leave?”
“I don’t know. Is staying worth it? To them, I mean.” Pursing my lips
thinly, I ground my teeth down to my gums— at least, that was what it felt
like. Natasha freaked out, but she didn’t seem to want to force on those three
kids what had been forced on her. If she outed Mike, she’d no doubt ruin his
family. My Aunt Kathy would leave him and take the kids, and he’d probably
end up in jail for some reason I couldn’t think of right now.
“I can’t answer that, Natasha.” I guess, that was all the answer Natasha
needed, and she slumped against my side. “Let’s . . . let’s go inside and take a
look at your hand. We’ll figure this out, sweetheart.”
34

Natasha
“Illya, hey . . . hi. I know things probably aren’t the best between us right
now, but if you could . . . if you could call me back, please? Um, okay . . .
bye.” Hanging up my phone, I winced as Luke examined my broken hand—
at least, it hurt enough to feel broken. “I . . . I messed up, didn’t I?”
“No.” Frowning darkly at Erik’s swift denial, I rubbed my face as I
debated what to do next. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t believe this is
happening. How the Hell is my dad married to your aunt?”
“I always hated him, but I could never put my finger on why.” The growl
was chilling in its intensity, and I rolled my lips between my teeth
uncertainly. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you, Natasha. If you want
to oust him, you can. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”
“I . . . ” Inhaling deeply, I sat back in the kitchen chair and blustered a
sigh through my lips. “I saw him— a decade ago. I specifically researched
him to figure out if it was worth it, and . . . it wasn’t. His wife was nice. I
didn’t know he had kids, but I saw on Facebook that he was married and . . .
but now . . . seeing him in person . . . here . . . ”
“If you tell Aunt Kathy, it’ll put those girls in a similar situation you were
in— they’ll grow up without a father, probably resent him for lying, and
fearing what could’ve been. On the other hand, what’s that going to do to
you, Natasha? You can confront him in private, but the way you went at him
before, there’s no way to disguise that you have history some way, somehow.
Even if it buys you a few years, you’ll be lucky if those girls get to eighteen
before it gets out. So, I guess the real question here is do you want to do
whatever it is you want to do now or later?” My mind churned as Jason spoke
slowly, measuredly, and I scrunched up my nose in thought. How long can I
wait?
“I’m not going to get revenge.” My lips twisted in self-disgust, and I
scoffed lightly as I rubbed my temple in a futile effort to release the pressure
against the backs of my eyes. “Natalia and Valentine. The third one, her
name’s Annabelle or some variation, right?”
“Annabelle, yeah. She’s five years old.” Blustering a squawk of a
humorless laugh, I shook my head sharply, and goosebumps blanketed my
arms and legs. Luke glanced up from my hand, and I hissed as he pressed an
alcohol-soaked pad to my knuckles. “You didn’t break anything, somehow.
You got strong knuckles. Let’s get you wrapped up.”
“I told myself, you know, it’s not his fault. He witnessed a murder, and he
hid. He ‘died’ because he was going into Witness Protection. How could he
come back after that? When I was sixteen or seventeen, I saw him on a
college tour, and I thought, you know, he looks happy. His wife is nice. She’s
happy. I was okay. As long as I never saw him again, I could handle knowing
he was alive.” Even my ugly feelings couldn’t withstand my words, and I
stared dazedly at my knee as I went numb. “I never thought he’d replace us.
The names . . . it’s coincidence that it’s happening now, at this age. She’s a . .
. a copy that’s better than the original— a new, better, version of a faulty first
attempt.”
“You’ve never seen Terminator, have you? The original is always the
best because it’s the most adaptable. You can find a way to upgrade and
patch and fenagle cables, and it takes a bit of doing, but eventually, you
figure out a way to make it all work.” Jason smirked grimly, and I inhaled
deeply to cover my mouth and the grimace that dragged down my lips.
Sitting in the chair, he propped his elbows on the table, and I exhaled my
shaky breath. “You punched him hard enough to bust his eye socket in half.
That’s impressive. It’s not easy to do that.”
“Don’t remind me, okay. I’ve never touched a man first, and—" Hissing
as Erik’s brother pressed the gauze to my knuckles, I tensed, and he shot me a
sympathetic smile without really looking up. “I . . . I’m honestly . . . okay, the
truth is, it’s . . . I don’t care about Terminator, and no, I never saw it, and I
don’t see how it applies to the fact that after he skipped out on us to start
Family 2.0, I had to suck a guy’s dick at thirteen for groceries!”
My voice heightened and loudened, and I couldn’t control it just as my
dad and his wife shuffled through the archway, him holding a bloodied towel
to his eye. His wife froze like a deer in the headlights, and my lip curled in a
disgusted snarl when he dropped the towel. The eye I’d punched was bulging,
threatening to pop out from its socket, and blood dribbled down his clean-
shaven face. When I tried to conjure a picture of my dad, all I could see was
the photo of him they’d given us after he ‘died’. He wore a blue button down,
a black tie, his hair combed back. But his face was the same.
“Does it make you feel bad? Did you know how bad Mom’s heroin use
was? Is that why you ran away and left me and Valerie? Did you name them
after us because you felt guilty? What about Annabelle? What about our
sister that Mom lost because she was doing heroin? What about me? You
wanna hear about how much Mom’s drug dealer liked me, liked me so much
he shared me with his friends? Huh? Huh!” I stood up as fire raced through
my veins, and my dad went pale as I stormed over to shove my ruined hand
in his face. “She wouldn’t pay the bills, so I had to do it all myself. I had to
go to them. I had to have sex at thirteen, and I had to pretend to like it
because you were gone!”
“It’s sick and ironic that your new kids are twelve, the exact age we were
when you disappeared on us. I hope you don’t disappear on your new kids
now that they’re at that age. I hope Natalia doesn’t end up resorting to
whoring herself out for a fucking can of SpaghettiOs. I hope you drop her off
at, what, sixth grade? Seventh grade? I hope you drop her off at school and
know she’s going to stay there and not sneak out to get rent money from a
sweaty, dirty Mexican with gonorrhea.” For a fraction of a second, I felt bad
for Aunt Kathy, but I was too angry. Glaring at Mike . . . Mike . . . Mike . . . I
resisted the urge to smack him right in his ugly, guilt-drenched, shameful
face. “And your name’s not fucking Mike— it’s Donald.”
“Natasha.” Stepping between us, Erik frowned with a slight shake of his
head, and I hoovered a shuddering breath through dry nostrils. “That’s
enough. Sit down so Luke can finish your hand.”
“Listen, okay. I just want you to hold out your hand. I’m not gonna touch
you.” I dropped down heavily into the chair, hard enough for the front legs to
lift off the floor. My hand shook when I lifted my arm, and I rubbed my
throbbing chest with my free palm. “How long have you been having
intermittent chest pain?”
“Uh-uh, I don’t . . . um, a couple months . . . maybe.”
“Do you mind?” Nodding toward my chest, Luke watched me cautiously
as I nodded in return, and I inhaled a shallow breath. He pressed his ear to my
heart, and I closed my eyes as tension thrummed through my whole body.
“How long has it been since this happened last?”
“Yesterday, at the gas station. Why? What’s happening?” Leaning back,
Luke frowned as he gestured me forward, and I stiffly did as told while Erik
answered. He pressed a palm to my back and told me to breathe, and I did.
Anxiety gripped my gut, and he sat back to frown at me.
“I’m just a medic, but I think you’re having stress-related
cardiomyopathy.” Shit . . . this again. Luke’s eyes narrowed on me before my
own fluttered closed. Could this fucking day get any worse? “You know
about it?”
“Of course, I do. It started again after I shot my mom in the head at point
blank range, but it hasn’t happened in about two years.” Staring directly at
my dad as I said those damning words, I flicked my wrist in dismissal, and
Luke gingerly took my not-flaming fingers. “I also had such a raging,
unchecked case of gonorrhea that I can’t have kids, and also, I have
chromophobia.”
“You’re seriously diagnosed with a fear of colors?” Luke cleared his
throat of its mystification, and I jerked my head in a nod as his cheeks
twitched in discomfort. “Ah, what else, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I’ll draw up a list.” Sinking into the hard dining room chair, I sniffed
hard, and my dad still hadn’t moved a single inch even as his wife shuffled
away from him. My mind whirred hastily, and I rolled my jaw and licked my
teeth as my mouth dried. She was crying, hard, shivering, and the faintest
twinge of guilt struck my chest. “You’re prettier than your pictures. I didn’t
want this to happen. I was going to ignore it.”
Kathy jumped with a sputtering gasp, gripping the edge of the breakfast
bar tightly, and I pulled an ugly scowl. She was Erik’s mom’s sister, I
thought, and it was pretty damn obvious that she had no idea about anything.
And I felt bad, but, like, come on.
“When they stuck my ass in the hospital after we got rescued, the
psychologists didn’t want to let us out. I was absolutely certifiable, way too
calm, because at that point it’d been going on for a while. At least a couple
months. And also, you know how bad those assholes tried to get the truth? It
was aggravating, even at thirteen. Anyway, I was there for nine months, and
Valerie stayed even longer because, I mean, she’d been . . . at least I was used
to it.” Sniffing hard, I flexed my ravaged knuckles as a darkness engulfed the
room. “What can you do about it, really. Anyway, I was diagnosed with
chromophobia, cardiomyopathy, gonorrhea, and a few other STDs . . . and
the usual shit. I’d been doped up, so I went through detox— severe
dehydration and food depravation, and let’s not forget the bad breath.”
My eyes were dry, and I winced when Luke tugged the bandage across
my knuckles and around my palm. The aching in my chest slowly died down,
and my breathing evened out as the silence rang in my ears. Gulping down
the fiery ball lodged in my throat, I closed my eyes and took a huge breath
before forcing my gaze to Erik for the first time in a while.
He was obviously having a tough time, and my gut churned at the
tumultuous emotions battling in his eyes.
“I’m great at parties, aren’t I?”
35

Erik
“What did you not tell Luke?” We were alone while Luke and Jason waited
for an ambulance to take Mike— or Donald— or whoever the fuck he was, to
the hospital. He might actually lose his eye, but hey, it was more than he
deserved, in my opinion. Gulping down straight from her wine bottle,
Natasha didn’t answer immediately, but I gave her time.
Propping my elbows on my knees, I clenched and released my fists
together as my brain furiously tried to keep up with the last forty-five
minutes. By marriage, Natasha and I were cousins, which I wasn’t sure how
that worked. She clearly felt something for my aunt and the girls, but she was
too angry at her father to care. Everyone in the back yard had heard her
screaming through the stupidly open sliding doors in the living room, so the
secret was out regardless.
As much as I was glad I was right, I knew this was no time for a victory
lap, and Natasha set the bottle down hard on the table to wipe her mouth with
the back of her free hand.
“Hah-h-h. You noticed that. I should’ve known.” A grimness twitched my
lips up, and Natasha reached to cover my fists with her uninjured hand and
sighed heavily. “Stress-related cardiomyopathy doesn’t really kill heart cells,
it stuns them, which is inarguably not as bad. I’m extremely high-risk for a
real heart attack, though. At least, I was at the time of being diagnosed. I
haven’t actually been to a doctor since then, except the dentist.”
“So, even if you were emotionally stable enough to have sex, you can’t
because your heart would explode?”
“A particularly low-fiber couple of meals could probably do it.” The
confession crushed down on my ribs and shoulders, and a shuddering breath
escaped between my tightly clenched teeth. “Are you going to try to convince
me to go to the hospital to get an updated checkup?”
“I want you to.” Surprise rocketed through me when Natasha nodded and
stood up, and I pushed myself out of the chair and onto weak knees. “Wait,
you’re actually gonna go?”
“We’ve been sitting here for, like, five minutes, Erik, and I realized
something. And, oddly enough, it’s not about my dad. It’s about Valerie.” My
brows drew sharply together, and Natasha flexed her injured hand, the
bandages creaking overly loud in my ears. “There’s so much wrong with me,
but there’s not nearly as much wrong with her. How awesome is that?”
“Are you being facetious?” She shook her head, her shoulders touching
her ears when she inhaled a shallow, staggering breath, and my frown
deepened. “Why would that be awesome? How is any of this even remotely
good, Natasha?”
“It means that everything was for something.” Stiffening at the lilt in her
tone, I sucked in a sharp breath as Natasha’s eyes brimmed red, and she
exhaled shakily. “Saying it all out loud . . . I’ve never done that before. It
made me realize that, yeah, at the time, I failed hard. I couldn’t keep Valerie
out far enough, and horrible things happened to her because of my failure.
But, you know, I worked hard. I worked really, really, really hard, and she
went to college, she has skills, she’s humble and kind and she can feel. I
wouldn’t have doubled down and forced her so hard, and she wouldn’t have
been so susceptible, if that initial failure hadn’t happened.”
“That’s such a fucked-up way of saying ‘failure breeds success’,
Natasha.” I mean, I understood where she was coming from, but I didn’t like
it. Natasha smiled warmly at my grumble, and I rubbed my head with both
my palms to cover my temples with my forearms. “I honestly don’t know
what to do, now.”
“I’d like to stay and eat. Also, I should apologize . . . a lot.” I couldn’t
exactly argue with that, so I simply nodded, and Natasha’s smile became a
little warmer. “Those diagnoses were a long time ago. Maybe, things got
better. I never had a reason to check. Besides, that episode I had a few days
ago, that was the worst one ever, and it wasn’t because of the memories or
the trauma. It was because of you, and I think that’s telling in itself.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.” Just when I thought things couldn’t
get crazier, they had. And in the most fucked up, unpredictable,
unmanageable way possible. Natasha’s smile widened a sliver, and I swung
my arms down to release some tension. “If you want to stay, we can stay.”
“Do you want to stay?” She shuffled the few feet to me to rest her
forehead on my chest, and I cupped the back of her head as I grumbled in
thought. I should’ve known Natasha wasn’t going to run away with her tail
between her legs— she was going to face it head-on. This was her mess, or at
least, that was how she saw it. The very least she could do was apologize for
it.
Whatever happened outside of that was beyond her control, and she knew
trying was futile. Anyone who heard her yelling at her dad understood that
she’d been through some shit. We all had demons, and hers were just a little
more ravenous. We’d all killed people at some point, under some
circumstance, for some reason we were forced to acknowledge.
If nothing else, my family probably had a very healthy respect for
Natasha and what she endured and how she dealt with it.
“I do. I would be a shitty honor guard if I left you alone, Natasha.” She
huffed, the warmth of her breath seeping through my t-shirt, and I inhaled
deeply to clear my throat. Stepping back, Natasha pushed herself onto her
toes, and the feathery brush of her lips on my chin sent prickles down my
neck and across my face. Tensing as she fisted my shirt, I clenched my jaw
hard and tried not to flex my hand, and her lips lingered for a second before
she pulled back.
“Everyone else moved on a long time ago. It’s about time I did, too.” But
we both knew that was easier said than done. Natasha’s episodes weren’t as
bad, her nightmares weren’t as bad, but they still happened almost daily.
Only nodded curtly, I dropped my hand from her scalp, and her smile faltered
some. The faint whirr of an ambulance siren burst into my scope of
comprehension, and I reached to gently brush her bottom lip with my thumb.
“No pressure . . . no rush.” How did things get so bad only to calm down
so easily? The question had no answer, and Natasha nodded with a little
sparkle of relief in her eye. “I don’t think you’re sexy, anyway.”
She friggen snorted, clamping a bare hand over her mouth and nose, and I
smirked faintly. We shuffled out of the dining room and through the living
room, and the paramedics were pulling up to the side of the house.
Uniformed police officers started questioning, but the air in the backyard was
solemn and frigidly cold.
Taking Natasha’s hand, I led her around the grill and onto the lawn, and
my family gave us a wide berth. Mike, or Donald, or whoever he was, was
checked out, but my aunt was nowhere to be seen, and neither were their
children. I wouldn’t be surprised if she filed for divorce by the end of the day.
She was probably drowning in shame.
“I take it you’re the one that popped the guy’s eye out?” An officer
approached us wearily, sounding almost bored, and eying Natasha’s hand
dubiously. “Wanna tell me what happened?”
 “I had a few drinks, and he pissed me off. Not really much to tell.” The
officer nodded, scribbling down in his little notepad, and a plume of nostalgia
billowed in my chest. Just a couple weeks ago, I’d been like that, and it was a
little awkward knowing that the vague description was going to be more than
enough. There was a ton of beer and other alcoholic beverages flowing, this
was private property, and God only knew that bastard wasn’t going to press
charges.
“Right, and what were you arguing about?”
“He’s my dad, what do we not argue about?” Avoiding again. I really
admired Natasha’s ability to answer well enough, and I glanced around the
yard through narrowed eyes. I could tell everyone was getting their stories
straight, just in case, but these kinds of fights weren’t uncommon. Everything
Natasha said could be construed to the simplest explanation, anyway. There
was no point to ask anyone else what happened.
Even then, the truth was probably ‘I only saw the aftermath’.
“Well, he’s not pressing charges, so maybe slow down on the sauce. The
dude’s eye socket is broken clean in half. You don’t want that iron fist to get
you in worse trouble.” This officer hadn’t even asked her name, and Natasha
nodded before he strolled off to talk to Mike, or Donald, or whoever he was.
Sitting in the ambulance at the lip to the side of the house, he looked so small
and miserable, but the worst was yet to come, I thought.
“Natasha.” My mom came wandering over, her face pale but a small
smile cresting her cheeks, and she held out her arms in silent offer. Natasha
stiffened, but pride blossomed in my chest when she walked slowly into my
mom’s embrace. The older woman hugged her tight, and I stuffed my hands
into my pockets to rock back on my heels. Watching it was like seeing
something I wasn’t supposed to, and I tore my eyes of them to stare at a
particularly long blade of grass between my sneakers.
36

Natasha
“I’m sorry, again, ma’am.”
“Oh, I’m not gonna tell you again to call me Carol.” Waving me off,
Carol sat back to sip her wine leisurely, and I heat crept up my neck. “I only
get called ‘ma’am’ when I pick up my kids from the base. Today has been a
rollercoaster for us all.”
“Carol . . . um, yeah. About that, I saw her, and she looks just like me
when I was twelve years old. It wasn’t right, the way I handled it wasn’t
right.” She twisted to face me more from across the sofa, and I took a sip of
my own wine to sigh heavily. “She shocked me, and it was wrong to do that
in front of her.”
“My sister’s been wavering about her marriage recently. She said Mike
has been controlling, trying too hard to be involved to the point of being
overbearing. Now, she knows it wasn’t because he was hiding something as
superficial and common as cheating. No one in my family has gotten a
divorce, and Kathy is probably drowning right now. I told my sister he was
fishy when she met him, when she fell in love so fast. She’s the youngest for
a reason, I suppose.” Carol smiled faintly, serenely, almost, and I took a huge
gulp of my wine as my chest tightened. “You may have been wrong, and you
may feel bad for those kids, but your absolution doesn’t depend on the
acceptance of others. You’re proof, Natasha, that children are malleable, and
I suspect that Natalia is very, very much like you.”
“I guess I know where Erik gets his . . . flexibility . . . about experiences
justifying horrific actions. I hope your sister knows I wasn’t trying to be
malicious toward her. These are the things I have to deal with, and sometimes
it gets out of control. I’m half-expecting someone to anonymously call me in
for murder.” Carol gave a soft ‘ah’, nodding sagely, and I licked my lips
heavily. “No offense, of course.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll find that here, in this house, details matter.”
Humming softly, I stared at the edge of the coffee table to take a sip of my
wine as Carol reached to pat my knee. “I’ll tell you something no one else
knows, Natasha. I have seven children, and knowing that they’d marry and
have kids of their own, knowing there’d be more. I can never have enough
kids. I’m not even sixty years old, yet, and my oldest is thirty-eight. It’s never
been enough for me. Seven turned into fourteen, and fourteen turned into
twenty. But it’s not enough.”
“I’m lucky my crazy attracted your son. He’s a great guy.” Carol scoffed
lightly, leaning over to refill her wine glass, and my lip twitched up. “What?
You raised him. You know exactly how great he is.”
“You’re not gonna tell me you think he’s too good for you, right?
Because that’s just someone wanting to get out, and you don’t want to get
out. You’re opposite him, Natasha. You look deep, and you need someone
that trusts you.” My brows rose as I bopped my head, and a small huff
escaped me as Carol filled my glass almost to the top. “He certainly knows
how to blindly trust.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t have a chance to continue when the front door opened,
and I twisted as Natalia burst through the front door. She panted viciously,
long, lean legs quivering and face burning red, and the air knocked from my
lungs when bright brown eyes met mine. Tensing when she launched herself
over the back of the sofa, I barely had a chance to not drench myself in wine
as sweaty arms latched around my neck. “Uh . . . um . . . o-okay . . . d-do . . .
uh . . . ”
Carol took my glass, settling back on the sofa, and I shot her a
questioning look. My mind raced, and my arms ached from the tightness
between my shoulders as Natalia slithered into my lap with dangerous
sniffles against my neck.
“Where’d you come from, huh?” I didn’t know what else to say, and
Natalia pulled back to stare at me from under dewy lashes. “Where’s your
mom?”
“She’s on the way to the hospital to see Dad, but I couldn’t go. I always
hated my name.” She spoke so calmly, and she scrunched up her nose just
like I did as my heart ached at her admission. Her stare was so, so, so level.
“Do you wanna get some ice cream?”
“Oh . . . why?”
“You’re my sister. We should know about each other.” Shit, this girl.
Natalia frowned, her slender brows furrowing, and I was kinda shocked how
light she was— slim and slender, and she weighed nothing as she sat back
with a huff. “I thought ice cream was pretty safe. We can go somewhere else,
or stay here.”
 “Um, I mean, it was your idea, so it’s up to you.” She popped up like a
daisy in the snow, her hair fluffing around her shoulders, and uncertainty
assaulted my chest. Grabbing my hand, her little palm was sweaty, and I
frowned slightly. “Did you run back here?”
“It wasn’t far. Mom didn’t make it all the way down the road before she
stopped the car. She’s probably still there. Maybe she didn’t know I left yet.
It doesn’t matter. She said I wasn’t allowed to talk to you, but she also said
never to listen to someone who’s crying.” My brows shot up at that, and I
barked an uncomfortable laugh as Natalia tugged my arm insistently. Hauling
myself off the sofa, I took my glass with me ‘cause I was really gonna
fucking need a drink if I was having a surreal conversation with my twelve-
year-old self.
Of course, she might’ve been a lot like me, but she wasn’t me. Even
though the resemblance was freaky. I mean, obviously, my dad was destined
to pop out girls no matter who he was with, but to find someone who also had
a predisposition to twins . . . was nuts.
Leading me through the house, Natalia tugged me into the backyard
where the party was still going on, and Erik’s jaw damn near fell off his face
when he saw us. Shooting him a pleading look to do his job and get me the
Hell out of the situation, I scowled silently when he shook his head. A rash of
mumbles swept over my head, but Natalia turned to me to hoist her long body
onto the counter and cross her legs.
I guess we were just gonna talk right here? Taking a huge gulp of my
wine, I inhaled a stabilizing breath before seating myself next to her.
“So . . . what do you want to know?” I regretted the question instantly,
and I raked my hand roughly through my mangled bun as my eyes fluttered
closed briefly in agitation. “I don’t really know what to tell you, kid.”
“My dad . . . o-our dad . . . even though he did that, do you think he’s a
bad person?” Oh, fuck— fuck— God damnit. Why the Hell did I have to deal
with this right in this moment? I should’ve fucking left when I had the
opportunity! How was I supposed to know this girl would come running back
and pull this shit? Ugh.
“Uh, that’s a good question. I think ‘bad’ is a determinate of your
experience with someone. Even if my experience with him was crappy, that
doesn’t mean he’s a bad person or that he’s bad for you, just that he’s bad for
me. Does that make sense?” She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear, and
my eyelid twitched at the frown on her round face. “It’s a difficult thing to
figure out.”
“Did you like horses? Because I hate horses— they’re big and smelly,
and I really don’t like them.” Sucking in a deep, loud breath to try to push the
discomfort from squeezing my heart, I nodded firmly as faint memories
barraged behind my lids when I blinked.
“I did. I really don’t remember a lot, but I remember wanting to have one
of my own.” Stereotypical white girl. Except, in Dallas, every apartment you
rented came with a complimentary horse trailer. “Why?”
“I told my da— our dad . . . that I hate horses and that I don’t want to
take riding lessons, but he was all like ‘wha-a-at, you love horses’ and I have
literally never loved horses.” Coughing a laugh as she swayed her body
dramatically backward, I covered my smile with my wine glass, and Natalia
pursed her lips thinly. “If my parents get divorced, what’ll happen to me and
Valentine and Anna?”
“Well, hopefully you’ll adjust. The truth is, I don’t know what’ll happen,
Natalia. As eerie as it is, we’re not the same person. I have no idea what I
would do because my parents didn’t get divorced.” Uh-h-h, I was definitely
out of shit to spew, and I leaned back a little to lip my wine glass and take a
big sip. “My life isn’t a blueprint for yours.”
“My dad— our dad—" She’s trying way too hard. It’s kinda sad. I mean,
in no uncertain terms did I expect this little girl to simply accept that she had
siblings twice her age. That her dad wasn’t her dad, and there’d been so many
lies that she had to confront right now. That her parents will get divorced, and
her life will fall apart. “Do you think he’s ashamed of you? Now, I mean,
before today, I always thought that he was trying to make me like things I
didn’t like because he was ashamed of who I was and wanted me to be more .
. . I don’t know . . . different . . . than who I am.”
“Natalia, I think he has a lot of shame and guilt, but I don’t think it has
anything to do with you.” A throbbing, sharp ache assaulted my chest, and I
reached to rub the spot as she turned to me with big, confused brown eyes.
“He probably took it out on you, wanting to fix the things he did and not fail
the way he did fourteen years ago. But the thing is, even if he is ashamed of
me, I’m not ashamed of me. I went through a lot, but I’m alive. You can ask
any of your male family members . . . war changes you, and for us girls, that
war usually happens right here.”
Slowly reaching to tap her forehead, I brushed back her soft, soft hair,
and Natalia smiled as relief slumped her shoulders. Nodding firmly, I swung
my legs over and planted my feet on the ground, but I never got the chance to
stand up.
37

Erik
“It’s been a week, Mom.” Glancing through the slit of a window into
Natasha’s hospital room, I covered my mouth to hide my snarl as my lip
curled back. “Why haven’t they taken her off the sedatives yet?”
“Because she bit the nurse in the face, Erik, you know that.” My mom
smiled sympathetically as my chest tightened, and I ran both my hands up
over my head to lean heavily against the wall. Worry ate away at me, and I
crouched down to rub my face roughly as the last few days raced through my
mind’s eye.
“They won’t let me in until they’ve talked to her, but they can’t talk to
her. This is worse than when Ben died.” I’d made the mistake of giving
Natasha and Natalia some semblance of privacy and not listened into their
conversation, and now, I really wish I had been nosy. Natasha blacked out,
collapsed right there, and, at first, I thought she had drank too much.
But we got to the hospital and she had a real heart attack. Natasha was
twenty-six and had a fucking heart attack.
Whenever the sedatives wore off and she woke up, she fought— she
fought so hard, screaming in Spanish. I didn’t even know she knew Spanish.
Placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, my mom sat in the chair next
to me, and I scratched my scalp harshly. I had never felt so helpless, so
useless, and I blew out a hot breath as the sounds of the hospital hallway
filtered into my scope of comprehension.
“No one returned the calls I made from her phone.” Even Illya, who I
thought would actually call back, hadn’t bothered, and I inhaled sharply
through stinging nostrils. “Her twin sister . . . ”
“You’re here, though. That’s what matters, Erik.” Of course, I didn’t
know why no one called back, but semantics, damnit! Natasha had a fucking
heart attack, as in her heart almost stopped beating. She could be dead, and
my attempt to blast phones was being ignored!
“Erik!” My head snapped up at the deep, booming voice, and surprise
nearly ripped my eyebrows off my face. Carlyle— of everyone I fucking
called, it had to be Carlyle who showed up. Standing up as he strode toward
me, tall and broad and in total command, I sniffed and straightened my
shoulders. “What happened? I got here as fast as I could.”
“Where’s Valerie? I called her for two days straight.” He, at least, had the
decency to look irritated as he shook his head curtly, and I scowled darkly.
“She . . . she had a heart attack after confronting her dad. Her dad is my uncle
by marriage, although I doubt it’ll be for much longer. My Aunt Kathy
already started the divorce.”
“Right.” Carlyle didn’t seem the least bit surprised, and my eyes
narrowed on him as I clenched my jaw hard. “Valerie’s not coming, Erik. She
thinks this is a stunt to get her to talk to Natasha, and nothing I say will
convince her otherwise. I considered dragging her along, but I wasn’t sure if
it’d do more harm than good considering the severity of her breakdown.”
“Why did you come, Carlyle?” He cocked his head at me like a snake
sizing up its prey, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Meeting my
gaze, Carlyle’s lips tilted down, and I could’ve sworn the air grew a few
degrees colder.
“Her attending wants to transfer her to a psychiatric inpatient institution.
As it so happens, I am very good friends with the medical director of the
place, and we had words. He’s convinced, as I am, that Natasha’s current
state will not last, and that permanent residency is unneeded. I came here
because, well, you don’t have the resources to force things to happen, and I
do. It’s been six days— you understand the significance of that number,
Erik.” My eyes widened in realization, and I nodded as a spark of hope lit in
my chest, burning hot to force steam through my nose. Carlyle tilted his head
back, eyeing me down his nose, but I didn’t care about his looking down on
me. “I’m flying in a friend. She should be here in about four hours, and by
then, she’ll know most of the situation. Of course, you’ll have to fill in the
more recent developments.”
“Erik, hey.” Rounding a corner behind his boss, Theo shouldered his way
toward me, and surprise-tickled my sternum. “Illya said to apologize. She’s
still in the hospital from when Natasha kicked her in the chest.”
“Ah, is she okay?”
“She’s a tough bitch, she’ll be fine.” He held out his mangled hand for a
shake, and I nodded curtly. That’s right. It really hasn’t been that long since
we left New York. Time moved strangely, and I tensed before gesturing to my
mom standing quietly behind me.
“This is my mom. Mom, this is Theo, and Carlyle.” They did their little
greetings, and I rubbed my palms up my face and over my head before
speaking up again. “So, what are you two doing here? You couldn’t just call
Natasha’s cell and tell me all this?”
“I could’ve. To be honest, it was easier to fly down here myself rather
than hope to get you on the phone. Do you know the state of her EKG yet?”
Shaking my head, I wasn’t sure whether or not to be surprised when Carlyle
looked like he was gonna tell me. “It’s good. There wasn’t much damage. It
wasn’t a catastrophic failure, but more like a hiccup. That being said, you
don’t have the option to accommodate Natasha anymore. She needs to be
treated, which is where my friend comes in. She’s a world-renowned
psychologist with decades of experience with survivors.”
“That’s very generous, Carlyle, but, dude, why are you here?” For a long
moment, Carlyle simply stared, and I met his gaze steadily even as dread
began to pool in my gut. He never gave anything away, and I hated how hard
he was to read. Finally, he sighed, and the blood drumming in my ears
dimmed as he rubbed his jaw roughly.
“My sister killed herself a long time ago. You said something that really
hit me, and I can’t not try this time. It’s not much consolation, but all the
money in the world can’t bring my sister back. She committed suicide
because she was very alone, isolated, and depressed, and no one cared or
noticed until after she was gone. You said it yourself, Natasha felt very lonely
with the wedge my relationship with her sister had put between them. In a
way, I’m responsible for this. I could’ve given Natasha more materials to be
prepared, since I did my due diligence on you and knew that her father was
your uncle.” I winced noticeably at his confession, but he waved me off with
a dismissive flick of his wrist. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It was a long time
ago. You have access to her phone, so you can call me when . . .”
The door rattled loudly, like someone body-slammed it, and I whipped
around as Natasha beat her palm against the window. She sweated through
her gown, and I didn’t hesitate to open the door even though I really wasn’t
supposed to. Her monitors were going haywire through the crack, and she fell
back onto her ass before I could catch her. Trembling violently, she wheezed
for breath, her bright, almost fevered eyes gazing at some distant point
beyond the door, and I knelt down to take her hand.
Worry compounded by the stunned silence, Natasha had enough drugs in
her to knock out a rhino. She shouldn’t have been able to wake up, let alone
get out of bed, and I clenched and released my jaw. Glancing over my
shoulder, there was an army of nurses crowded by the door, but none of them
wanted to get too close. After all, Natasha had bit some girl’s cheek almost
all the way off.
“Is Natalia here?” Croaking hoarsely, Natasha blinked blearily before
focusing on me, and I shook my head as anxiety clogged my throat. “Good.
That’s good. Yeah.”
Sometimes, I felt so fucking dumb that it drove me insane, and Natasha’s
eyes flooded with huge, heavy tears. She managed to stand, by herself, and I
wasn’t sure whether grabbing her would set her off or not. My hands itched,
and prickles skittered up my arms just under my skin as the tension in the air
reached the point of buzzing audibly.
Her face paled, and I didn’t really have a choice when Natasha doubled
over to throw up all over my shoes. She hadn’t eaten anything in days, but an
impressive amount of bile and water came spewing out of her mouth to
splatter on the floor. The sound of her gagging and straining, the feeling of
her ribs against my forearm, the stench that wafted up from under her gown
— it was sickening in itself, but it was her rasp that really made my stomach
churn.
“I feel better now.” Pursing my lips thinly, I glanced over at Theo, and he
shuffled through the gaggle of nervous nurses to help me with Natasha. She
didn’t tense. I didn’t know if it was because of the massive sedatives she’d
been injected with. Hauling her limp body back to the bed, I peeled her
greasy hair back from her forehead and cheeks, and she sniffed hard. “I beat
them this time.”
“Okay. That’s good, Natasha.” There were so many undertones, so many
words she couldn’t force out, and I managed a pathetic smile as she squeezed
my hand weakly. “You did good. I’m really proud of you.”
“Damn right.” Blustering a hoarse laugh, I clamped my mouth shut as
dazed eyes struggled to focus on mine. Natasha’s expression became grave,
and my heart thundered hard against my ribs as she licked her chapped lips
heavily. “Erik, will you marry me?”
My jaw unhinged at that, shock bristling over my entire body, and my
heart threatened to explode. What the fuck kind of question was that? Wasn’t
that my job, and not after five weeks of absolute fuckery? We haven’t even
started our cross-country trip— what if she likes trap rap? I won’t listen to
trap rap for the rest of my life.
“I know you’ve got balls of steel, but can you just let me take the reins on
that? Preferably when you’re not drugged out of your mind.” At least I know
you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask. Which I might. I’ll keep you on your toes.
38

Erik
“So, wait a minute, I don’t understand. Natasha had such an intense delusion
that it replaced parts of her original memory about the kidnapping?” This
lady that Carlyle brought in shook her head, and I scowled darkly as I rubbed
my jaw in agitation. “I don’t get it. What the hell happened?”
“Essentially, the heart attack she suffered cut blood flow to her brain just
long enough to ‘reset’ it, in a way. Think of it like a rubber band too tight
around your finger. You unwrap the band fast enough, and everything goes
back to normal even though your finger went numb because the nerves were
dying. That’s what happened to her brain. Now, ‘replaced’ is a bit of a strong
theory considering she still acknowledges the original version of events. The
delusions she’s been suffering through the past six and a half days created a
restructure of events, like watching a wrestling match with two different
outcomes, but the same swings and misses and what-not.” She steepled her
fingers as she spoke, her expression becoming more perplexed even as she
talked it out, and I barely followed. “Her subconscious mind acknowledges
that that particular event is killing her, so it did what it considered self-
preservation. It’s almost unheard of, but it has happened before.”
“Self-preservation? How is that self-preservation?” An ache beat against
the backs of my eyes, and Dr. Laura smiled sympathetically at me as she
leaned forward to prop her elbows on her knees.
“It’s honestly kind of a conundrum, Erik. If her delusions were a
completely different entity than reality, as delusions usually are, she would
never leave this hospital again. However, the only point that I can tell her
delusions diverge from reality is her fighting back against her captors. Now,
under normal circumstances, that would be enough for inpatient referral, but,
again, these aren’t normal circumstances. Natasha acknowledges and has full
awareness that in reality, she didn’t fight back. She acknowledges completely
that she was ‘dreaming’, as she put it, and that her fighting back is something
she made up while in the midst of her break. She’s got a very firm grasp on
reality.” My cheek twitched. I got that so far, and Dr. Laura shot me an
inquisitive sidelong glance as I rubbed my palms together. “That’s where
self-preservation comes in. Natasha’s heart can’t withstand the stress of those
emotions, so her brain created an alternative series of events to help ease that
stress. Her most recent EKG proves that there’s a slight improvement
compared to the one performed seven days ago when she was admitted.”
“Okay, so she’s covering up again, basically.” Dr. Laura nodded, and
sourness coated my tongue. Why didn’t you just fucking say that to begin
with? “What’s going to happen now?”
“I’m going to do another assessment to determine if she’s mentally stable
enough to leave the hospital, and you should be halfway to Nashville by
Monday. Of course, Carlyle made it a point to strong-arm the hospital into
agreeing that, under my supervision and on the condition that Natasha call me
at least once a day, she be released as soon as possible.” My brows rose in
surprise. I don’t know why I expected her to hitch a ride with us or
something? She smiled, tucking back a thick lock of grey hair, and I tore my
eyes off her to stare at the floor. “How about you, Erik? How are you
handling all of this?”
“I want it to be over. I know it’s not a long time, but . . . I’m about ready
to get to know the Natasha that’s hiding under the thick crust of shit.”
Clasping my hands together, I frowned as my brows drew together sharply,
and Dr. Laura nodded out of the corner of my eye. “There’s more in there,
and I have a really strong feeling that I’m gonna like it.”
“Isn’t that why we do anything at all, hm? Because we have a feeling. I’m
very optimistic about Natasha’s recovery, but you should know, Erik, this is
not an all-encompassing cure. It’s a stopgap, nothing more. She needs real
treatment and coping mechanisms, and travelling may help, but you’re going
to have to see a doctor or counselor at some point.” Jerking my head in a nod,
the memory of that brief conversation with Natasha flickered through my
mind’s eye. She’d have to find the groups, want to go, make an effort, but I’d
support her. Anytime, anywhere, I’d support her.
“Erik.” Glancing up as Natalia came skipping up the hallway, I nodded to
the doctor before standing to rub my hands on my jeans. “Is Natasha awake?”
“Not right now, Natalia. Why are you here? Where’s Aunt Kathy?”
Natalia shrugged, and I was starting to get seriously worried about the
distance she was keeping from both her parents. She and Valentine weren’t
close close, but the younger of the two had called me twice this past week to
warn me Natalia had taken a cab to the hospital.
And it sure as shit wasn’t to see her father.
 “Mom’s here to pick up Dad, but I don’t wanna see him.” Nat was a tall
girl for her age, and I clapped a palm on her shoulder with a sigh and slight
shake of my head. “Can I go see her? Even if she’s not awake, I wanna make
sure she’s okay.”
“Natalia, she’s fine. I promise.”
“Hey.” She obviously wasn’t listening to me, and I arched a brow when
she giggled a little, hiding her smile behind her hand. “If you two get
married, that means you’ll be my cousin and my brother, and that Natasha is
my sister and my cousin and my in-law.”
“Okay, j-just slow down, Natalia. We’re not getting married, and thinking
about that gives me a bad headache.” Holding both her shoulders, I rolled my
jaw as I tried to figure out what the fuck to say. I mean, Natalia had every
right to be curious, but there was such a thing as too insistent. “When
Natasha wakes up, if she wants to see you and Aunt Kathy, I’ll let you know.
You can’t just show up anymore, Natalia. When was the last time you talked
to your mom, huh?”
“Mom doesn’t want to talk. All she does is cry.” In the same way Natasha
seemed blank and monotone, so did Natalia, and it was just plain creepy at
this point. I never realized how fucking strong Mike’s, or Donald’s, genes
were.
“Well, maybe it might be a good idea to not run away all the time and
actually listen to what she’s got to say? Ah? What are you hoping for from
Natasha, anyway?” No matter how much like Natasha she was, Natalia was
still a kid, and she cast me a confused look. Pursing my lips thinly, I sat back
down in my chair against the wall and sighed as I stroked my goatee.
“Natalia, you might not understand, but Natasha isn’t your friend, and despite
what may or may not happen, she’s not your sister. Biologically, yeah, you
share a father, but you’re strangers. You don’t know each other, and believe
it or not, Natasha’s unconscious right now, and you’re not going to get any
answers from staring at her.”
“But we are sisters.” Casting a pleading look at Dr. Laura, I rolled my
jaw and covered my frown at the distressed lilt in Natalia’s voice. Inhaling
deeply when the older woman only frowned and watched, I sat up a little
straighter to stare Natalia in the eye. I mean, maybe this was wrong, but this
kid couldn’t abandon the reality of her family and her important siblings for
a glorified version of someone who’s extremely fucked up.
“No, she’s not. Natasha doesn’t consider you her sister, Natalia, and she
doesn’t want a relationship with you. As hard as that seems, Natasha agreed
to answer your questions, but she doesn’t care about you, Natalia. You
wanting her to stay isn’t going to make her stay. She’s not your mom. She’s
not your sister. She’s a stranger who happens to share some DNA with you.”
Big tears welled in Natalia’s eyes, and I ground my teeth a little against the
disgust clawing at my throat. “You need to go find and talk to your mom.”
“I’ll bring her.” Dr. Laura stood up to nod at me, and she held Natalia’s
shoulder gingerly as she flashed the young girl a comforting smile. “Let’s go
find your mom.”
Waiting until they were around a corner and out of my sight, I blustered a
massive breath and wondered what the Hell happened to my life. Not that I’d
opt out just because it’s a little stressful right now. It’ll be worth it in the end.
At least, that was the hope.
39

Natasha
“I don’t need more of that shit in my life. Thank you for that, Erik.” Resting
my head back, I stare at the ceiling, and a groan of frustration bubbled up
from deep in my chest. “I fucked up so bad. I hate this. I should’ve listened to
you and not gone to this thing.”
“Hey, Natasha, come on. This wasn’t even on my list of reasons when I
said it might not be a good idea. I really don’t believe that you’ve done
anything beyond repair, but I also think that Natalia needs to hear it from
you. She thinks you’re Wonder Woman or something, that you’re this great
new adult sister who she should try to emulate. That’s what Dr. Laura said,
anyway. I’m not trying to stress you out, but it’ll mean more than hearing it
from me. Aunt Kathy called me and said Natalia is stealing money to take a
cab to come see you right now. You need to set her straight. Whether that
means being nasty, it’s up to you.” I knew he was right, but I still didn’t like
it, and I rubbed my chest absently as the last few days caught up with me. At
least I wasn’t drugged up anymore and could think clearly— not that I had
anything good to think about. “However you want to do it, I’ll support you,
you know that.”
“How’s she doing, your aunt?” Erik sat back in the chair with a jerk of his
head, somewhere between a nod and a shake, and I frowned as I ran my hand
through my hair. “Is she mad at me?”
“I think she’s just really embarrassed. After a while, everyone got used to
him, but Mike, Donald, whatever, even if he was spotless, he’d never get
everyone’s approval. The dude’s a paper pushing desk jockey, and we have
expectations.” The way he said it made me laugh, a hoarse, crass sound, but a
laugh nonetheless, and I shook my head a little as Erik smiled. “She’s not
mad at you, just frazzled. Although, I’m sure you share the same notion of
only seeing each other when you need to.”
“Definitely. I just want to disappear.” Covering my face with my hands, I
heaved a massive, shaky inhale, and my sternum popped as I rubbed my
cheeks. “Carlyle really pulled a leg for me. I wish I had a chance to thank him
before he left.”
 “I don’t think he did it for you, but he wanted to stay and see you off. He
said something about his little brother fucking up another deal as he was
storming off.” Yeah, Carlyle’s brothers were a little before my time, and I
hadn’t met the youngest of the three. From the stories, he was a spoiled brat,
so maybe that was a god thing. “You’re avoiding the issue again, Natasha.”
“I’m aware. She’s on her way, anyway. I’ll deal with it then.” Waving
him off, I sat up to blow out a calming breath, and Erik’s smile widened even
as he rolled his eyes. “They said my heart was better this time. That if I can
reduce my stress and emotional distress, everything should be fine. I mean,
I’m not even twenty-seven yet, so . . . ”
“We’re gonna work on that. Dr. Laura agreed with me that environment
was a ‘considerable contributing factor’, which was pretty validating, and it
also . . . I printed this out.” Producing a folded-up paper from his pocket,
Erik’s smile morphed into a grin when I snatched it, and excitement bubbled
up in my chest. The Google Maps map of the U.S. had been defaced with
pen, and my brows rose in surprise as I scanned the dots littering the page.
“They’re the most visited cities from this travel website. I picked the ones
with the best food. They’re the red dots. All the other ones are just filler.”
“They’re all red dots, you dummy. Was that the only criteria? The
number of four-star restaurants?”
“What, you want a whole presentation? Do you know how hard it was to
convince someone to let me use their precious printer? Huh?” Giggling as
Erik grabbed the page and stuffed it into his pocket, I shook my head, and his
gaze tenderized. “You’ve never laughed in front of me. It’s pretty.”
My eyes widened, and I clamped my mouth shut as the sides dragged
down. The somber confession tore apart my mind, trying to find a single
instance to prove Erik wrong . . . but . . .
“I haven’t been the best person, have I?” He shook his head, in denial or
agreement, I didn’t know, and I inhaled a shallow breath to hold it. “Do you
think I should do the inpatient therapy?”
“I think you should do some kind of therapy. I think that the more you
talk about it, the better you’ll be able to work through it. And I think
repeating your story will help more than feeling like you’ve already said it, so
you should say something else.” Humming softly in acknowledgment, I
stared down at my palms as Erik’s suggestions floated through my head. Who
knew what might happen if I worked through things piece of piece, part by
part? Maybe, it’d shed new light on things I ignored, things that were
important that I never considered. Maybe, it’d make it easier with the next
part. “Plus, talking to different survivors once or twice a week, it’s a lot
different than talking to a psychologist, which Dr. Laura mentioned that
calling her every day was a condition of your release. You’ll have the best of
both worlds. That’s how I see it, at least.”
“Mmm. How come you have better ideas about my mental health than I
do?” Sniffling as I smiled at him, I twiddled my thumbs and sucked my teeth
as I sighed, and that unmistakable hospital smell wafted up my nose. “I don’t
know. I have to spend another couple hours here, but I really need to eat
some real food.”
“We’ll get there when we get there, Natasha. One minute at a time.” I
only nodded at that, and the conversation came to an end to seat us in a
contemplative silence. Road-tripping around the country? Now, I thought I’d
agreed to it just to get away from that suffocating place. The notion still
appealed to me, but it seemed very . . . distracted? Like we were going
somewhere with no destination and only a faint sense of the journey.
“It’s okay. One minute at a time, right?” Erik nodded, and I tensed at the
sudden, soft knock on the door. Casting him a nervous look, I gnawed on my
lower lip as panic slammed into my chest. Goosebumps washed my arms and
legs, and he stood to open the door and reveal Natalia standing beyond. She
smiled brightly, and I crossed my arms tightly over my chest.
Is being nasty good or bad in this situation? Ugh, this sucked, and she
hadn’t even walked through the threshold.
“Natalia, why are you here?” The coldness in my tone shocked even me,
and Natalia’s whole face froze as she stood in the doorway. “Stop coming
here. I don’t want you to steal and lie to come see me. I don’t want you to see
me at all. Understand?”
Was that what Valerie thinks of me? My eyelid twitched at the notion, but
I ignored it to focus on the girl in front of me. Natalia wasn’t Valerie, and
Valerie wasn’t standing in front of me.
“Go home, Natalia. Don’t come back.” Just get it over with. Like a band-
aid. It’ll only hurt for a second. Repeating the mantra over and over again, I
stared levelly at Natalia as she blubbered a sob and ran off. Erik nodded at
me before disappearing after her, and I exhaled a shallow, shuddering breath
and ducked my head. “Shit.”
“That must’ve been difficult for you, Natasha.” Glancing up at Dr. Laura
as she gently shut the door, I shrugged absently as my cheek twitched in
agitation.
“I only care about her in the capacity that I feel bad she has a lying
bastard of a father that we happen to share. I don’t want her in my life, and I
don’t want to be in her life. The only thing that’s difficult about it is . . . ”
Trailing off as I ran out of words, I bopped my head and raised my hands in
defeat. “I don’t even know why it’s difficult. It just is. Valerie doesn’t believe
anything about anything involving me. I get why, having a heart attack at
twenty-six, but . . . ”
“She’s angry with you for lying to her about the . . . advanced state of
your condition.” Blowing out my cheeks, I ducked my head in a nod, and Dr.
Laura took Erik’s seat to cross her knees.
“I suppose she’s entitled to it. I betrayed her trust. We’re not as close as
she thought. Blah . . . blah . . . blah. Frankly, she never actually told me why
or what or anything, so I don’t even know what she’s feeling. You know, I
spent so many years trying to make her stand up on her own, make her . . .
make her have substance.How bitter can I really be that she’s doing what I
always told her, ‘don’t trust anyone’.”
“Do you wish you’d said that to Valerie instead of Natalia?” I rolled my
lips between my teeth at that probe, and my brows furrowed as I nodded
again. “You know, you’re going to be here for another few hours, Natasha.
Why don’t you write a letter and put it in the mail? If she reads it or not isn’t
something you can control, but you can take comfort in knowing that you did
all you could do.”
“You think it’d help not knowing if she read it?” Cupping her knees, Dr.
Laura sat back and nodded, but I could see that she was about to ask me
another question.
“Do you think it’d help knowing you wrote it?” Ah, that was the clincher,
and I sniffed before my phone gave a shrill ping for attention. Snatching it off
the table, I scanned Erik’s text, and a small smile crested my cheeks.
“He got her in the car and is taking her back.”
“Well, as harsh as you were, Natasha, I don’t think it was excessive. With
that, I’ll leave you to write your letter.” Dr. Laura stood up, and I flexed my
fingers absently as I contemplated a letter.
God, it must’ve been over a decade since I handwrote anything.
40

Natasha
Staring at the big, red sign scrawled on the front of the building, the block
letters sent a shiver lodging between my shoulder blades. Frowning at my
own inability to move my feet, I crossed my arms tightly over my chest as I
stared . . . and stared. I didn’t think, just . . . stared.
“Brings back memories?” Erik came up next to me, and I cleared my
throat roughly as I jerked my head in a nod. “Do you need a minute?”
“You’d never think a CVS could be actually kinda important.” Fingering
the envelope under my elbow, I cocked my head back as Erik hummed softly.
Nibbling my lower lip, I scrunched up my nose as I rocked back on my heels.
“I mean, I need these meds, apparently, and I need to stick this in the
mailbox, which is right there.”
Pointing at the little, blue box on the sidewalk beside the Redbox, I
wiggled my envelope absently, and Erik nodded. The letter I’d written just
hours ago burned through the envelope and seared my fingertips, and I
inhaled deeply in preparation. The silence stretched into awkwardness, and
anxiety bored a hole straight through my gut.
“Right there.” Nodding firmly, my lips thinned in a frown, and I exhaled
slowly to try to calm my nerves. Erik rubbed the back of his neck out of the
corner of my eye, but there wasn’t a single twitch of a muscle from the waist
down. “As in four yards away, right there?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” I grabbed Erik’s hand, tangling our fingers, and
took a huge breath as his warmth flowed up my arm. “I just have to . . . put it
in. And if Valerie reads it or not, I don’t care, because I put my best foot
forward.”
“Your best foot in your best footwear.” Glancing down at my plain, black
wedges, I chuffed a soft laugh and lifted my foot. “Couldn’t wear those if it
was snowing, you know.”
“You know, Erik, these are the first ever things I bought for leisure. It
wasn’t . . . it wasn’t food. It wasn’t bare clothes just to throw on. There was
no special occasion that required something nice to keep up appearances. I
saw these, and I thought to myself, these are so cute. I’m gonna get them.
They weren’t marked down, on sale, not a return they needed to get rid of—
it was full price.” Tilting my foot to flop the laces around, I smiled as
fondness bubbled up against my ribs. “I never regretted it, either.”
“They’re very pretty shoes, Natasha.” My smile widened, and I planted
my God damn foot right on the asphalt. Right on the asphalt! And the soft
plastic clap was satisfying! Straightening my shoulders, I nodded to myself
and tightened my grip on both Erik’s hand and the letter. He walked with me
to the sidewalk, and he pulled down the flap of the mailbox with a slight
creak.
And I held up the letter . . .
And I put it in the drawer . . .
And I fucking closed that door . . .
And I double checked that it fell.
Exhaling a shaky sigh, my eyelids fluttered closed, and my arms and legs
felt heavy. Leaning heavily on Erik, I gulped down the dense lump in my
throat, and he wrapped his arm across my front. His arm hairs tickled my
chin, and I licked my lips heavily as my mouth dried. A huge weight lifted
off my shoulders, and he cupped my head to kiss my temple.
“So, Laura prescribed you meds, enough for three months before we have
to go to her practice in Seattle. Do you know what they are?” Nodding, I
cleared my throat roughly as we shuffled away from the mailbox and toward
the entrance to the CVS. “Have you taken them before?”
“Forcibly, yeah, after we were rescued and I got stuck in the loony bin for
nine months. Not this exact stuff, but mood stabilizers and birth control, anti-
anxiety meds for when it gets too rough too fast. Pretty standard.” Erik cast
me a curious look, and I ducked my head and puffed out my lips
thoughtfully. “It didn’t help at the time, but, I mean, they had to force it down
my throat and make sure I didn’t puke it up, so . . . ”
“Alright. But you think it’ll help this time?”
“I hope so. If it doesn’t, I’ll tell Dr. Laura and we’ll work it out.” For the
first time in a long time, I felt more than just okay. I felt optimistic. I felt
geed. I felt unburdened. “What about you, Erik? It’s kinda crappy if I feel so
great and you don’t?”
“I thrive off your prosperity, Natasha. You being happy makes me
happy.” Smiling broadly, I crossed the threshold into CVS, and I paused as
memories rose up behind my eyes. Pursing my lips thinly, I clenched my jaw
hard and squeezed Erik’s hand, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my
nose.
“Shit.” My breath was gone at my mumble, and I clutched my chest as
my heart started to pound furiously. Big, calloused hands held my biceps, and
goosebumps washed my arms as a cold sweat broke out under my shirt.
Wheezing lightly, I squeezed my eyes shut as pressure built behind their
sockets. “Shit.”
“Sit. I’ll get you some water and hit the pharmacy. Hey, kid, don’t take
your eyes off her, yeah?” Blood drummed in my ears as Erik sat me against
the side of a soda cooler, and I craned my neck in an effort to breathe. My
lungs set fire, and my heart squeezed painfully as a bead of sweat dripped
down my neck.
“Oh-oh.” A dry, humorless huff of a laugh escaped me, and I sniffed even
though the air didn’t reach the back of my throat before being sucked out of
my mouth. Tears pricked my eyes, and I banged my head against the cooler
as frustration only more intensely tightened my chest. “Damnit!”
“Here, sweetheart. It’s alright.” Crouching down in front of me, Erik held
a bottle of cold water to my face and neck, and my skin jumped from the
sting. Panting hoarsely, I ground my teeth even as he shot me a comforting
smile from under his trimmed goatee. “Focus.”
“Totally . . . easy. Y-yeah.” Of course, I’d been warned that my whopping
week strapped to a bed wasn’t going to ‘fix’ me, but, man, did it suck
knowing for sure. Erik rifled through the bag as I tried to get my pulse under
control, and my chest heaved furiously. My scattered brain couldn’t pick up
any thoughts, and I closed my eyes to focus.
“Moment of truth, here we go.” Very gingerly cupping my cheek, Erik
popped a small pill into my mouth, and the cold against my neck disappeared.
My throat flexed dangerously, but he was clam and cool, and I inhaled a
shuddering, shallow breath through flared nostrils. “We’ll go to RiteAid from
now on if we need something.”
I couldn’t answer even if I wanted to when he tilted to bottle against my
quivering lips, and Erik grumbled softly in encouragement. At the hospital, I
hadn’t had any episodes, but wasn’t that how it was? All I wanted to do was
leave, and I got so fucking lucky it wasn’t even funny. Carlyle was rich and
powerful and raised his fist to get what he wanted, and I just so happened to
know him. If not, I’d been there for weeks, or more, and . . .
It’s true what they say. Those programs are intended for good, but no one
really cares about me as a person. Those doctors care about me as a patient, a
statistic, a number on a chat with a million other numbers. I’d be dosed up
and shipped off, but not until after I had convinced them I was fine even if I
wasn’t because who wants to be admitted to the psych ward?
“Your pulse is going down.” Erik’s mumble snapped me from my bitter
thoughts, and I cracked open my eyes to find it was a little easier to breathe.
Surprise twitched my brows, and he smiled as he held two fingers to my
pulse point. “All good?”
“Y-yeah, I think so.” Either the actual medication itself, or the idea of it,
or, Hell, maybe I just need to harness this horrendous bitterness I felt about
being a Guinea pig! Somehow, something worked, and I reached a trembled,
clammy palm to rub my face roughly. The pressure on my chest eased a little,
and Erik helped me to my feet to wrap an arm around my shoulders as my
panting morphed into shallow rasps.
“It’s okay. I booked us a great reservation at the best place in town. We
still have to get the rest of your meds, though this fine lady wouldn’t give
them to me because I don’t know your birthday.” Alarm bells rang in my
head and I glanced over to find the pharmacist watching us awkwardly.
Clearly, she thought Erik was lying when he rushed back and said ‘oh, she’s
having a panic attack right in the front of the store’ but . . .
“It’s June Second.” Gulping down the dryness in my mouth, I nodded
firmly, and Erik practically beamed at me out of the corner of my eye. “Yeah,
okay. I’m okay. Everything’s okay.”
41

Natasha
“You really didn’t have to cook for me, ma’am. I kn—" Carol shot me a
mock glare over her bright, wide smile, and I rolled my bottom lip between
my teeth as I shuffled awkwardly in my seat. “Carol, I know I’ve caused a lot
of hassle, and—"
“Stop that, Natasha. We’re not holding any of that against you. To be
honest, all your . . . Mike . . . drama aside, it was honestly a relatively calm
day.” She wavered a little, saying his name, and I gnawed on my lower lip as
I ducked my head in acceptance. The huge spread on the table was enough to
feed an army, and there definitely seemed an army here. All of Carol’s kids
sat around me, and her husband. Even Kayla was here, and she even seemed
pleasant from the outward.
I worried about that woman, but, obviously, everyone was against her on
this— this being ratting me out about killing my mother.
“It’s important to get all the family together every once and a while,
anyway.” Erik’s dad grabbed a massive bowl of mashed potatoes, and
everyone around me sort of lunged at various dishes. Despite the chaos, there
was a strange sense of order, and no one took a lot of any one thing. Glancing
around at the huge roast dinner Carol had spent all day preparing, my chest
tightened, and I reached to rub the spot and gulp down the discomfort in my
throat.
I was the only significant other here and I wasn’t stupid— these people
were trying to make a point.
“I’m sorry.” All movement stopped at my mumble, and I stared dazedly
at the edge of the impressively large, probably custom-made dining table. “I
don’t know what else to say, so I’m sorry.”
What was I sorry about? I was sorry for making such a bad first
impression. I was sorry that I couldn’t do the things other women could do,
and somehow, I’d trapped Erik into being with me. I was sorry for the rift I’d
caused in this family, and I was sorry for not knowing how to repair it.
“Okay, I think we got off wrong, here.” Erik’s dad spoke up sternly, and
my gaze flickered up as those commanding, brown eyes captured mine in a
vice. “If there weren’t things wrong with you, Natasha, then we’d worry.
Every single person at this table except for Carol has been in the infantry. I
was in Vietnam for three years. PTSD is something we know very well, and
we know how to handle it very well. We, in this family, do not judge people
based on what they did to survive, overseas or at home.”
“You said that Mike, Donald, was only in Witness Protection for a year,
right? Which means he was released right before he met Aunt Kathy. Which
means he continued the lie when he shouldn’t have. Which means you’re not
responsible for that lie even if you did expose it, Natasha.” Grabbing my
hand under the table, Erik’s declaration earned disgruntled approval all
around, and I gnawed on my inner cheek hard. “If anyone deserves to be
judged negatively, it’s him.”
“I’d kill him.” Jason’s declaration knocked the air from my lungs, and I
tore my eyes off their father as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“Just so you know, I’d fucking kill him if I had any right to it. I’ve killed
people just because I was told to shoot in that direction. It’d be no skin off
my knuckles.”
“Well, it’s not your business, Jason. Kathy is moving back here as soon
as she can, and we’re going to help her. She may be stupid, but she’s just as
much a victim.” Erik’s father’s tone of finality settled heavily on the table,
and a strange sense of weightlessness flooded my chest. Suddenly, it was a
little easier to breathe, and I blinked hard a few times as the old man nodded,
his turkey neck flapping slightly. “So, Natasha. You really have nothing to be
sorry about, but you’re entitled to your feelings. I appreciate your apology.”
“Thank you.” Squeezing Erik’s hand tightly, I nodded and sat up a little
straighter, and the old man’s face crinkled when he smiled. “I don’t . . . I
don’t want to put too fine a point on my issues.”
“Since there’s been so much revelation, I have a confession to make.”
Kayla straightened, her shoulders stiff, and she cleared her throat loudly as
the conversation took a sudden turn. “Ben broke up with me.”
I didn’t know exactly why the stunned silence was so damn shocking to
me, but Kayla didn’t back down from it, and admiration seeped through the
cracks between my ribs. Maybe, they were really good together?
“What the fuck? Why? He was going to propose to you before you left,
wasn’t he?” Kayla nodded, her face a picture-perfect portrait of sadness, with
her hair in a regulation bun and no makeup on. Despite being sad, she wasn’t
confused, and she inhaled through her lips before tilting her head sharply.
 “This woman in his office, I think. He said he realized we weren’t in a
relationship because how could we be when I’m overseas thirteen months out
of the year? He’s got a point. The only thing is, I’m off for six weeks because
they’re processing my transition stateside. I applied to be stationed at Norfolk
Communications and got accepted. Ben doesn’t know.” My confusion
must’ve been clear on my face, and Kayla chuffed with a small smile as she
shook her head. “He works for a support contracting firm for the military. So,
even if I was home all the time, he wouldn’t be, which is ironic. He travels at
least four months out of the year.”
“Oh. Congratulations.” Awkwardness thickened my voice, and she
nodded at me in acknowledgment as I licked the roof of my mouth. “If he
knew, do you think it’d change his position?”
“I guess we’ll never know. He broke up with me before I got shipped
back via e-mail, and I’m not gonna go crawling and beg him to take me back.
I mean, yes, I applied for this position partly for him, but I’m not gonna tell
him that. He’s not even back in this country for another few days, so I
wonder what he’ll do when he realizes I cleaned out our apartment and our
bank account.” My brows rose high at that, and a round of laughter floated up
as Kayla’s lips cracked in a smirk. “Yeah, whatever. I’m petty, I know.”
“What’d you do with all the stuff?” Kayla’s smirk turned slimy, a little
self-righteous, and not at all guilty, as she picked up her fork and twirled it
between her fingers.
“I sold it on Craigslist for pennies. Literally, nothing was more than a
dollar. At least I made a lot of dollars.” My lips twitched at that, and the
conversation fizzled out as greedy hands reached for food dishes. The smell
of a roast dinner was lost to me as Erik rubbed the back of my hand with his
thumb, and I rocked to rest my cheek on his shoulder. He tensed, not
expecting the contact, and I closed my eyes when he pressed his lips to my
crown and squeezed my palm.
“Speaking of engaged, Lilly asked me to look up something on her
phone, and she had a page of engagement rings open. You think that’s a
hint?” The conversation swirled around me, and I closed my eyes as I let it
drone into garble as I savored Erik’s heat against my face. Erik’s littlest
brother, Miles maybe, has posed the question, but I didn’t pay attention to the
aftermath as warm breath rolled down my scalp.
“All of this is good cold. Do you want to go lay down?” Erik’s mumble
caressed my ears, and I nodded before lifted my head. A twinge of guilt
struck my chest, Carol had made this for me, and I couldn’t find my appetite
anywhere. But, at least, everyone else was having a good time, and Erik and I
left the dining room to head through the living room and up the stairs.
“Do you wish we could have sex?” The question tumbled out of my
mouth before I could stop it, and Erik stiffened as he paused mid-step on the
stairs. Twisting to scan me through narrowed eyes, he leaned on the wall to
rub his jaw with his free hand as the other flexed against my palm.
“I’ve never considered it. There’s three things you learn in the military,
especially the Navy— how to drink, how to smoke a pack a day, and how to
manage blue balls. So, I guess I wouldn’t say I wish . . . but if you were at a
place you felt you could, I would agree.” That was a lot more analytical a
reply than I expected, and Erik frowned under tightly knit brows. “What?”
“Maybe . . . maybe we could j-just . . . lay down . . . t-together . . . ”
Trailing off when his brows rose in surprise, my face threatened to melt right
off my skull, and I shook my head viciously. “Never mind, it was s—"
“I can lay down with you if that’s what you want, Natasha.” My whole
body was on fire fueled my embarrassment and an almost innocent sense of
happiness, and Erik smiled tenderly. Starting up the stairs once again, he was
quiet even as I thrummed with pleasant feelings that I had never felt before. It
was overwhelming, this sensation, this excitement, this throbbing in my chest
that wasn’t unduly heavy or painful.
The guest room Erik took me to was plainly decorated, and nerves
tightened my gut as I shuffled to sit on the edge of the bed. He sat opposite
me across the vast expanse of a blue quilt, facing away from me, and I
inhaled a rattling breath. Closing my eyes, I worked to stabilize the furious
emotions bouncing around in my chest.
I didn’t kick off my shoes. I didn’t take off my pants or my shirt. I sort of
flopped sideways, pulled up my knees, and wiggled so I wasn’t falling off the
side of the bed. Goosebumps washed my down my back and across my chest,
and tension gripped my spine in a vice as Erik laid on his back. His jeans
rustled overly loud when he crossed his ankles, and the bed dipped when he
propped his arms under his head to heave a sigh.
But, when I blinked, I didn’t remember those horrible times, staring at the
wall, shivering, afraid, shameful.
Oran
1

Oran
Gazing out over the skyline of what I considered one of my favorite cities in
America, I frowned as I lifted my glass to my lips. The high-rise made
everything below seem so tiny and insignificant, and in many ways, things
were. People were a commodity to be used and abused, traded and discarded,
when they were no longer useful. Buildings were the Petri dishes of scum and
breeders of idiotic schemes and power plays that were of absolutely no
consequence beyond those involved.
“At least, that’s how it used to be.” Far, far down below, those people
were ants to be crushed if they happened to stray too far out of line. Each
person, each ant, has its place in line . . . but ants also had six legs with which
to step out of that line, even if accidentally. Some ants don’t even have to
break ranks to find themselves in trouble, and, just like ants, the line
continues. The gap slowly narrows until it’s as if that ant was never there.
“Mr. Santino.” Turning as Malory slipped into my office, I wandered to
my desk to set down my glass, and she didn’t look up from her tablet. “Your
three o’clock is here. Also, Mason Stowel called again and threatened to sue
if you refuse to contact him before eight a.m. on Monday. I need to know
when you want to reschedule with the Hanford Construction Company
concerning the budget-building, and Port Authority is . . . ”
She finally glanced up, and I took off my glasses to wipe the lenses as
Malory held her tablet to her chest. Now, her discomfort blurred out, and I
inhaled deeply as my mind churned toward the business at hand. Leaning my
palm on my desk, I crossed my ankles as I put my glasses back on and
exhaled slowly before speaking up.
“Get Landry in here tomorrow for a discussion on Stowel. Do you have a
recording of all correspondence?” Nodding, Malory’s blonde curls bounced
gently over her shoulders, and I tilted my head at her before she started
tapping away on her tablet. “I don’t care about the budget-buildings. Get a
senior analyst and someone from development. Reach a decision within two
weeks or drop Hanford and find someone else. I don’t have the time or the
inclination to deal with their attempt to inflate the project price or scope. We
set our limitations, and they’re not negotiable.”
“I will pass the sternness and slight glare down as best I can.” Malory
turned on her high heel and walked out, head ducked and eyes on her screen,
and I hummed softly to myself. She was a good secretary, very beautiful, and
very . . . typical. There was nothing exceptional about her, but even that
wasn’t important to me.
Despite how stereotypically blonde, fair-skinned, and pencil-thin she was,
Malory was smart enough to keep her skirt down around me. Whether it was
a subconscious acknowledgment that I was dangerous, well, that was up for
debate.
“It’s a good thing I don’t like blondes anymore.” I grabbed my drink to
drain the last of my scotch and shook my head with a slight hiss. The shaded
glass door swung open, and my eyes narrowed on one Vanessa Camponello.
She strutted in as if she owned the place, hips swaying her silky black dress,
and I couldn’t help but frown when she pulled off her sunglasses with a
flourish. “What can I do for you today, my darling?”
“Are you aware that snake bitch is stealing my clients?”
“Yes. I recently bought a dog off her brother. She’ll be arriving over the
weekend.” Vanessa was pissed about that little tidbit of information, and I
rounded the front of my desk to lean on the metal-framed glass. Her face
tinged pink, which was a feat considering the amount of makeup she caked
on, she crossed her arms over her chest tightly. “Is there something you want,
specifically, or did you want to complain about your own incompetence
disguised as professional slander?”
“What are you going to do about this, Oran?” My eyelid twitched at the
question, and Vanessa shuffled uneasily as I cocked my head quizzically. I
owed that snake nothing, but I couldn’t help wondering why I was expected
to either defend or offend her. Vanessa huffed as the silence stretched,
growing more agitated, and I straightened to inhale a deep, calming breath.
Honestly, this was pretty fun.
“Now, let’s review. You waited a month for this appointment, correct?
You not only waited that month, but I believe it’s safe to assume that at that
time, you didn’t attempt to fix this issue yourself, correct? Not only did you
not make an attempt, but you expected me to not only side with you but to
clean up your mess as well, correct? Do I have that right?” I spoke slowly,
letting each darkening lilt of my tone hit Vanessa in the face, and I picked up
my glass to turn it between my fingers. She kept her mouth shut this time,
and her nervousness was like a fresh of breath air as I examined the glass.
“Do you know what all of that says to me, Vanessa? That you can’t do your
job, and I very much believe I don’t appreciate people that can’t, or won’t, do
their job.”
“Oran, I—" Rearing my arm back, I threw the glass at Vanessa’s feet, and
she jumped with a petrified squeak of shock and fear. Her gasp slithered into
my ears like oil, and my lip curled as she tried to hold herself stiff. I barely
heard the glass shattering, I was so focused on her, but still, she shivered in
fear. Fixing my glasses up my nose, I clenched my jaw hard and took another
calming breath.
She wasn’t worth my anger.
“Shut the fuck up, Vanessa. You know as well as I do you’ll only make
an excuse, and I don’t care for excuses. You waited a month to tell me in a
scheduled meeting something so important I knew about it before I even
entered Seattle. And not only that, you attempted to place the blame on me
for your failures. You’ve lost a total of seven clients over less than as many
months. Here’s what you’re going to do.” Striding over to her, I enjoyed her
whimper, the way she tried not to shy away, and the slight rustle of her
mahogany waves. “You’re going to turn around. You’re going to walk out
that door. Then, you’re going to turn back around and watch me shut that
door.”
Grabbing her long, sharp jaw, my nails dug into Vanessa’s cheeks as she
cried out, her eyes widening in horror. The stench of her perfume was
suffocating, and I held my breath as my sneer darkened.
“Good luck getting to your car, Vanessa. You’re fired.” Jerking her away,
I stepped over her as she stumbled over her heels and into the sofa against the
wall. She hid behind her hair, taking a moment as my declaration sunk in, and
I pulled open the door sharply. “Malory! Request a cleaner in my office and
inform her or him that there’s glass!”
“Yes, sir.” Rising off the floor like muck about to bubble from toxic gas,
Vanessa wiped her nose and mouth delicately. She flipped her hair, taking a
sharp, huffy breath. Even her fucking nose and chin seemed sharper. Like a
cartoon villain. Tugging her dress down, Vanessa swept back her hair, and I
gestured out into the lobby with a wave.
“How can you look at yourself in the mirror?” Vanessa sounded so bitter,
somehow, and I arched a brow quizzically. So, she resorted to personal
attacks. A compliment for all intents and purposes.
 “You sound upset at me, as if it’s my fault you didn’t do your job and
can’t accept the repercussions of your inability. You know, Vanessa, my
brother may see the value in allowing people to learn from their mistakes, but
you’ve made the same mistake . . . how many times now?” Amusement
tickled my throat and infected my voice, and she glared at me hotly even as
she idled by the sofa. “Even Mateo doesn’t get seven chances, my darling.
There are six more months to this year, and I’m not spending a single one of
those one hundred eighty-three days concerned with your . . . eighth
mistake.”
Vanessa started shuffling toward me, tiny and frail, and I frowned when
she came close enough I could count her eyelashes.
“By the way, I look at myself in the mirror with my glasses on.
Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to preen.” This time, she didn’t look at me, and
I sighed in satisfaction when she slipped silently past. Like an ant, she
scurried away, trying to run, trying to escape.
I’m very good at aiming my heel.
2

Oran
Leaning back in the chair, I tapped my temple absently as the room fell into
silence, and Dr. Laura watched me through critical, narrowed eyes. My mind
churned slowly, but the quiet became disconcerting before she spoke up.
“Do you regret . . . disposing . . . of Vanessa?” Rolling my jaw, my brows
furrowed slightly in thought and I shook my head as irritation twitched my
cheek. “From what I understand, your relationship with her had deteriorated
before you two had met? She was reported to you by the Snake when she was
with you in New York, right?”
“Esmarissa first told me of it then, yes. I had to verify her claims, and
when I did, I did what anyone would do in my situation— I fired an
unproductive employee.” I waved my hand dismissively, and Dr. Laura
arched a brow in silent question as I licked my teeth. “Vanessa was not good
at her job, but Carlyle kept her on because she got clients. But the Snake
proved she couldn’t keep them. I gave her more than the month she gave
herself. I had never heard of her until the Snake brought her up in New York,
but what I learned about Vanessa through my own investigation was . . .
troubling.”
“You surely like using a lot of words and making yourself sound
important, Oran. Now, the concise version, please?” Smirking softly, I
rubbed my jaw with the back of my knuckles, and Dr. Laura tilted her head at
me. “Please.”
“I decided to fire Vanessa on the recommendation, despite having never
met her, yes. I do not regret it. However, I did compensate Esmarissa for
backing up her report. She was allowed to keep the clients she’d stolen, of
course.” The good doctor shot me the most unamused look, and I pursed my
lips thinly as I crossed my knees. “I despised Vanessa, so I got rid of her in a
way I could back up.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere, Oran. Why did you feel the need to
justify your decision to kill her? Was it because, maybe, you didn’t want
Vanessa’s blood on your hands due to your own negligence?” Inhaling
deeply at that, I clenched my jaw at the searching spark in her gaze, and her
eyes narrowed. “Do you feel she doesn’t deserve your hands? Do you not
want her blood on you?”
“Kara . . . ” A dry laugh breached my throat as it tightened, and I ducked
my head in a nod. “No, I have her blood. I wouldn’t want to do her a second
disservice by dirtying it with that piglet.”
“Most people want to absolve themselves of that guilt, but not you.
You’ve said that several times, Oran, that you own the events that led you to
strangle Kara, Erin, and Emily. Do you consider having irrefutable
justification for your actions as your way of making it up to them? That
you’re . . . more considerate of opinion because of them?” Did I consider it
my way of making it up to them? Irrefutably. Nodding firmly, I rubbed my
chin and jaw in agitation, and Laura smiled politely. “Have you spoken to
Carlyle since the incident?”
“No. I’m sure he’s heard about me, and I have heard about him, but we
haven’t directly talked. I left because I spent my entire life thinking I was just
as good, if not better, than Carlyle, and I was faced with the reality that I’m
not. I spent my life sucking up to my father to get under Carlyle’s fingernails
as deeply as I could, looking for some opening that wasn’t there. When I
came to Seattle, it was to . . . to grieve, but also to find out if I’m not God’s
gift, then what am I?”
“What do you think you are, Oran?” That was a question I couldn’t quite
find the answer to yet, and I tilted my head in denial. “Do you consider
yourself nothing at all? Following Kara’s death, specifically, do you feel like
when you lost her, you lost yourself?”
“Not entirely. At least, I don’t believe so. Some restructuring was needed,
and for that to happen, I needed space. Literally and figuratively.” Clicking
my teeth behind my thinned lips, I frowned as I turned my gaze to the carpet
under. I’d moved to Seattle for a million reasons, and then found many more
to stay. “I think I’m not the man I was last year. I’m not a glorified secretary
for my father. Carlyle was nice enough to appoint regional control to me, and
I’m really starting to take pride in what I’m accomplishing. The thing about it
is, admittedly, I don’t have much of a social life outside my office.”
“You’ve never had much of a social life, Oran. Have you ever considered
trying to make friends?” A guffaw escaped me at how juvenile that question
sounded, but Dr. Laura had a point, as always. I’d spent a majority of my
time at work, building, getting comfortable, and I rubbed my jaw absently.
“Maybe spend some time outside the office. Other people are never going to
fill the void Kara left in you, Oran, but it does help dull the pain.”
Humming deep in my chest, I opened my mouth only to get cut off by a
trill from the landline, and Dr. Laura held up a hand with an apologetic smile.
Honestly, I was thankful for the break, and I checked my watch as she
answered.
“Natasha, hello. Can I call you back in about . . . what? Congratulations!
I’m actually with a client right now, but if you wouldn’t mind getting back to
me in . . . okay. Thank you, and congratulations again. Okay, bye.” My
interest was thoroughly peaked at that small conversation, and Dr. Laura
hung up to sit back in her office chair and sigh. “Now, where were we,
Oran?”
“We’re out of time, unfortunately. How’s Natasha?” Dr. Laura pulled a
face, and I arched a brow curiously as she silently decided how much to tell
me. “I know more than enough about her situation already, Laura.”
“She’s making progress. Not great strides, but . . . she and Erik were
married this morning in Vegas.” My brows shot up, a bark of disbelief
escaping me, and Laura smiled as she sat up to smooth her pencil skirt. “I’m
not one to gossip, but I truly don’t understand how a man can be so devoted
and in love to a woman who will probably never be capable of physically
culminating that love. Natasha is happy— doubtful, of course, but happy.”
“You know, Doctor, I think it’s nice.” Standing up as Dr. Laura shot me a
bewildered look, I rolled up my sleeves and pushed my glasses up my nose
just for some time to organize my thoughts. “There’s no manufacturing that
kind of trust and devotion. I should know— I tried.”
“Before you leave, Oran, I have a question for you. Why, at the beginning
of your relationships with Kara and the others, the many, many others, did
you attempt to manufacture the relationship in the first place instead of letting
things progress in whichever way they would?”
“That’s easy.” Rounding the sofa, I gripped the doorknob before turning
to catch Dr. Laura’s eye. “I was afraid things would progress in a way I
didn’t like. I wanted to control it. Now, in hindsight, maybe because I felt so
inadequate.”
“You’ve been coming to see me twice a week for almost six months,
Oran, and I don’t think I have ever heard you say the word maybe.” Pursing
my lips thinly, I didn’t have a reply to that, so I pulled open the door to step
out of Dr. Laura’s office. Quietly closing the barrier behind me, I took a
short, sharp breath and held it for a long moment.
 There really was no ‘maybe’ about it. I did feel inadequate, and I took
that insecurity out on my girls. I tried to overcome it by being what
essentially amounted to a controlling dick, and now . . . they’re dead.
They’re dead, and it was totally preventable. And totally, my fault.
Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I dialed Malory’s number as I
headed out of the lobby, and she answered almost immediately. Her chipper
tone grated my ears, and I stepped onto the sidewalk to glance wearily at the
car waiting for me on the curb.
“Did you receive a report concerning Hanford yet?” Gesturing the car
away, I started walking out of the professional complex and tilted my head
back to stare at the sky. The dry ocean so far above me was cloudless and
soft, and a slight breeze cooled my face. Taking off my glasses to stick them
in my shirt pocket, I ran my free hand through my hair, and the blur of the
world around me was almost like a painting.
“Yes, sir. The meeting did not go well. Apparently, Hanford kept circling
back about construction materials and trying to exaggerate prices. The
developer I assigned to the project made a note here that she’s not
optimistic.” That wasn’t surprising in the least. I rubbed the back of my neck
and rolled my shoulders as I closed my eyes and took a huge breath.
Reaching the busy roadside, I ignored the cars that zoomed by as I debated
how best to go about this.
Hanford was a smallish company that built residentials, and that was why
I contracted with them. They were a local business that’d feed back into the
local economy, but I never, not in my wildest dreams, thought the owner was
going to be such a greedy fucking pig.
“What’s the developer’s name you assigned?” I could hear her fingers
tapping her keyboard, an abrasive clack-clack-clack, and I paused my journey
at a crosswalk leading to a small gas station.
“Her name’s Lilly Everton. She’d partnered with the analyst on the
project a few times and come out successful. I may have cheated a little.
She’s not a senior developer, but she’s got a better turnaround, even though
they’re smaller projects.”
“Let Lilly Everton know she’s keeping the next appointment, and if she
feels strongly enough, she has the authorization to cancel the contract for
cause. Also, she can start researching other firms in preparation for this. A
third thing, Malory . . . ” Pausing to punch the button on the pole, I stuck my
free hand in my pants pocket as expectant silence buzzed through the line.
“Get me her portfolio. You mentioned she’s got a good turn out?”
“Ah, yes, sir, yes, sir, and yes, sir. She’s been at the development firm for
just over six years, came in right out of college, and has been a junior
developer. Now, I’m not saying office gossip is always correct, but according
to the people on the twenty-ninth floor where she works, her supervisor has a
tendency to . . . exaggerate his role in the projects. I compared the numerous
projects they’d worked on together or as a team, and it seems to support this
theory. All developers have their unique quirks.” Frowning under furrowed
brows as I waited for the light to turn for me, I rocked back on my heels as
Malory paused to breathe. “Regardless of the rumor mill, her work is
impressive. I was up last night looking at her architectural plans and
organizational abilities, and she seemed the most likely to either strike some
sort of deal with Hanford or have a good relationship with a different
construction company. Everyone who’s dealt with her has requested her
again if given a chance.”
“You’re very diligent, Malory. Fine. Give her full authority over the
budget-buildings. The only thing I want on my desk is the final plans and
contract. If anything concerning comes up, contact me.” We hung up, and I
briefly wondered how to go about this situation as the little green man
popped up on the sign across the street. “I need a day off. Maybe I really
should get a dog and not just lie about it.”
3

Oran
Circling my beer bottle absently, I stared at a bright glint from the light above
the bar, but my mind was somewhere else. Budget-buildings were exactly
what they sounded like— construction of residentials on a strict, low budget
whose function was to simply break even. The concept was fairly new. No
one wanted to lose money, but Seattle was a pretty avant-garde city, so I
figured there’d be no harm in trying.
Budget-buildings promoted the opportunity for some philanthropic work,
which was something I always acknowledged I needed. Otherwise, it’d be a
lot more difficult to cover up the massive amounts of drugs I smuggled in
through Port Authority, or worse, the things I smuggled out.
Around me, the restaurant was bustling, considering the fact it was a
Monday, and I twisted on my stool to gaze out at the crowd and lifted my
beer to my lips to hide my frown. Many of these people probably worked for
me in some capacity but didn’t realize it. My development firm was an
umbrella, with many more companies underneath it. Without my glasses,
everything was blurry, but I could make out bodies, and that was enough.
Have you ever considered trying to make friends? Dr. Laura’s question
from three days ago still plagued me, and my eyes narrowed as I scanned the
restaurant. Obviously, this wasn’t the place to try anything. Everyone had
their own little cloisters, and a stranger wasn’t wanted. My eyelid twitched as
I shook my head, and I turned back around just as the bartender walked by
me in a tizzy. Sipping my beer as I waited for my food, I listened to the
conversations and noises around me, but it didn’t take long before a harsh
voice rose above the others.
Seated at a tall-top populating the bar area, an older man and what
appeared to be his son started berating the waitress. For a long moment, the
viciousness of his tone blocked out exactly what he was saying, and I twisted
with my beer to watch unabashed.
“What are you— stupid? I said I don’t need an I.D. I’m obviously over
twenty-one.” My eyes narrowed into slits as the poor waitress froze from how
voraciously her patron attacked her. Irritation flooded my veins, and I set my
beer on the bar to lean back against the edge on my forearms. “I want a Dos
Equis. Now!”
“Sir, I can’t serve liquor without an I.D.” Scanning the waitress, I realized
two things— this might’ve been her first job because fuck all if the other
waitresses carded. Not to mention she’s short, and this guy is looming over
her while sitting down. She managed to squeak out the reiteration, but she
was clearly uncomfortable, and tension raced down my spine and into my
legs. “It’s . . . it’s the rules, and I don’t make them. Please calm down s—"
Oh, he did not like that. The man— older than me, if his grays were any
indication— slammed both his palms on the table and the whole restaurant
went quiet in shock. The waitress jumped three feet in the air, her dark red
hair flailing around her wide, bright eyes, and I stood to walk over. Clearly,
this guy was laser-focused on this poor girl because he hadn’t noticed me
sitting at the bar ten feet away. Smug triumph flared in his eyes at the sight of
me. Even with my 15/15 vision, I could see it.
“You’re the manager? Good. I—" Holding up a hand to silence him, I
gazed at the man steadily as eyes bore into me from all sides.
“What is your name, sir?” He sputtered out something in his surprise,
Jack Something, and I nodded curtly. “Jack. Where do you work?”
Again with the stammering, and I put on my glasses to really see his face
as it tinged red. The faint lines around his mouth and eyes deepened, and he
actually looked a little familiar. I’d seen his picture somewhere even though
the company he was employed at was just a subsidiary of mine.
“What are you here to celebrate? Considering how strongly you insist on
a beer, it must be something special.” This time, it was the son who sat up a
little and smiled beyond his embarrassment, and I turned to him to
completely ignore his father. “Well?”
“I . . . I apologize for my dad. He does this all the time. But . . . we’re
celebrating me getting my first job in the field I went to college for.” My
cheek twitched in a slight smirk at the strange mix of mortification and pride
in this kid’s eyes. He was beyond embarrassed about his father, but he wanted
to enjoy his achievement, which he very much should. I nodded before
turning back to Jack.
“What about you, sir?”
“I work in a factory that makes artificial building materials.” Oh, yes, I’m
aware. I own it. “I worked nights to ma—"
“I really don’t care, sir.” Jack went red in the face again, and I pulled my
cell phone out of my pocket to swipe through my contacts. “Are you aware
your company has an ethical standard that all employees are required to sign
off on at the start of their employment?”
“Uh . . . uh . . . I remember signing it.”
“Well, you signed it, but you obviously didn’t read it. It states that any
public behavior considered belligerent or negatively reflective of the
workplace is cause for termination.” That got Jack’s attention and he tensed
as his pinched expression became redder and redder out of the top of my field
of vision. “I just watched you verbally accost a waitress for doing her job,
and I was concerned, reasonably enough, about her physical safety that I
personally stepped in. All you had to do was show her your I.D. It’s a simple,
convenient thing for you to do. It’s also the law, and whether other waitresses
abide by it or not is irrelevant.”
I finally found the number I wanted, tapped my phone’s speaker on, and
held up a finger to Jack as he started to pale in realization. Maybe I wasn’t
the big boss, but I was a big boss, and he fucked up. Bad.
“Mr. Santino, what a surprise. I assume it’s not going to be a pleasant one
considering it’s seven-thirteen in the evening.” Cocking my head when Jack
clearly recognized his supervisor’s voice, I waited for him to protest, to get
loud and angry as he had been with a girl half his size.
“I’m here at Hansen’s Bar and Grill, and I have just acquainted myself
with Jack . . . Something. I didn’t catch his last name. What’s your last name,
sir?” To be honest, I was kind of enjoying this game. Jack grumbled his last
name as I held out the bottom of my cell. “You’re his direct supervisor,
correct?”
“Yeah. He called out tonight, said his boy got a great career opportunity
and wanted to celebrate. He’s never called out of the night shift, so I agreed.”
My brows rose in surprise and humor tightened my chest at the fact Jack
hadn’t lied about the situation. True, it gave him a point or two, but I couldn’t
un-see what I saw. “Why?”
“Fire him for an ethics violation.” Staring Jack in his flashing gray eyes, I
didn’t let my smirk shine through at the gasps that sounded around me. Shock
rippled through the air, and the supervisor, whose contact was just Material
Plant Super 1 in my phone, choked a little in surprise.
“Uh . . . um . . . no offense, Mr. Santino, but what ethics violation are we
talking about, specifically? Even though you own the place, I can’t just fire
him without cause.”
 “No offense taken. I just watched him physically intimidate a—" Turning
to the waitress, I quietly asked her how old she was, and she stammered a
weak ‘sixteen,’ which I expected. “Jack physically intimidated a sixteen-
year-old girl over the presentation of his I.D. to buy a beer. As I said to him, I
worried about her safety enough to step in myself.”
“Okay. I’ll put him on unpaid administrative leave pending an
investigation, and not that I don’t believe you, but I need proof. If there’s
cameras or, like, someone took a video on their phone . . . audio would
suffice, too, I suppose.”
“I’ll get what I can to you in the morning. Thank you.” And, just like that,
we hung up, and I turned on my heel to this girl cowering behind me. She’d
calmed down a little once she realized there was someone between her and
Jack, and I gestured toward the kitchen. “Go on and take a few minutes if you
need to.”
She bolted for the kitchen without hesitation, and I walked back to my
stool to signal the bartender for another beer for myself. Ants . . . sometimes
try to eat other ants.
How primitive.
“This one’s on the house.” The woman who sidled up in front of me
smiled broadly, and I nodded gratefully as she popped the cap of the dark
green bottle. “By the way, I didn’t know I’d been replaced! I should just take
my managerial skills out the door in shame.”
“I would appreciate your cooperation with the investigator, and you can
keep your job in exchange.” She held out her hand, and I took it before she
gave me my beer with a nod. “That girl’s new, right?”
“Yeah, this is her third or so shift. I don’t know who put Jack at her table,
but I’m going to give that person a stern talking to. He’s a regular, and not
the good kind. The boss says it’s easier to not make a scene, but either he
won’t come here anymore, or he’ll be more polite to the waitresses, so it’s a
win-win either way.” Taking a gulp of my brew, I nodded in
acknowledgment, and she shook her head a little in dismay. “It’s pretty sad
how people treat other people in the service industry.”
“I think it tells you all you need to know about a person.” When I glanced
back, Jack and his son were sitting in an awkward, tense silence, and I
scoffed lightly. “You should go check on her.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to let her off tonight. Her shift’s almost over
since she’s not allowed to work more than four hours at a time, anyway.
Thank you for helping her.” Tilting my bottle as the actual bartender came
out with my food, I sat back a little as the manager returned to the kitchen,
and I had to admit . . .
I felt pretty damn good.
4

Oran
“Mr. Santino! Sir!” Pausing at the call, I turned toward the sound and surprise
rose my brows as a pretty woman in business casual attire came rushing
down the sidewalk. “Excuse me. I apologize for bothering you. Do you have
a moment to spare?”
“Depends on how that moment will be used.” Her sleek cherry-blonde
hair fluttered in the breeze of cars speeding past, and I glanced down at my
watch briefly. When I looked up, big greenish-hazel eyes locked on mine,
and the woman nodded firmly as she straightened her thin shoulders.
“At Hansen’s on Monday, you got someone fired for abusing my sister.”
Pursing my lips thinly, I nodded in confirmation, and she stuck out a fragile-
looking hand with gratitude drenching her features. “Thank you. I just . . . I
wanted to thank you in person for going above and beyond.”
“You’re very welcome.” Her long fingers wrapped around my palm, but I
was at a bit of a loss as I cocked my head quizzically. “Did you go out of
your way just to thank me for some common decency?”
“Yes, I did.” She kept shaking my hand, and I couldn’t help but laugh at
how matter-of-factly she spoke. Her cheeks pinked, and she smiled as the
twinkles brightened in her eyes. “Ah, I’m May. I just . . . thank you very
much, Mr. Santino.”
“Call me Oran. You know, I believe I do have a few moments. Would
you like to grab a coffee before you head into work, May?” The day itself
seemed brighter when she smiled broadly, and May finally withdrew her
palm from mine to grab her purse straps. “Wonderful.”
“Yeah, okay. You know, that job at Hansen’s, I clearly explained Sarah’s
mental condition to the owner, and that she’s not supposed to serve tables in
the bar area. Technically, Sarah’s not supposed to serve alcohol at all because
she’s only sixteen, but you know how it is. No one really cares much about
the particulars.” My breath caught at that, and I frowned under furrowed
brows as May inhaled deeply. “No one takes mental illness seriously. They
look at Sarah and think that because they can’t see something broken, nothing
is.”
 “Do you mind my asking what her condition is?” We began walking, and
May pulled her elbow-length hair over her shoulder to exhale a shaky breath.
“You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“She’s got autism, pretty mild. You know, mild enough that she can be a
functioning human being for all intents and purposes. The thing is, Sarah’s
people skills are rock bottom. I’m a regular at Hansen’s, so I talked to the
manager. Nothing serious, just eight hours a week. It’s not for money— I
make enough for us both.” Clenching my jaw hard, I ducked my head in
thought as May combed her slender fingers through the ends of her hair.
“She’s terrified of going back, and I can’t convince her otherwise. She
doesn’t go to school, either. They couldn’t handle her. My parents couldn’t
handle her. I can barely manage. Sarah does what she wants, when she wants,
and if she doesn’t want to do something, she won’t.”
“What is it she likes to do?” Curiousness tainted my voice, and I could
see that girl when I blinked— she refused eye contact or made too stern eye
contact. Nothing so serious struck me, but our encounter was a minute, if
that, and I was more concerned about getting the attention off her than
putting my own on her.
“Oh, Sarah loves birds. That’s the obsessive part of her condition. She
loves one thing and one thing only, and she’s so inquisitive about it. I
encourage it, but, I mean, how do birds help her be a developed adult?” The
more she spoke, the more emotion showed in her voice, and May cast me a
sheepish look when I gazed down at her. She’s short, even in heels. “I’m
sorry. I don’t mean to complain about it, and everyone’s entitled to their
passions . . . I just don’t want her to be that kid.”
“And it’s just you two, yes? Do your parents live in Washington?” May
nodded, her lips thinning, and she puffed softly as a delicate crease appeared
between her brows. “I assume they don’t come by as often as you’d like.”
“They haven’t seen her in over four months, no. I get calls, but they
stopped asking about Sarah. It’s frustrating, but I feel like trying to force a
relationship will do more harm than good. Even, you know, indulging in her
hobby of birds, and the online classes she takes, I’m not entirely convinced
that she’s happy. I have full guardianship of Sarah right now, which . . . I’m
only twenty-three. I have a great job that I like and want to advance in, and
Sarah and I are great sisters, just not much else.” We reached the hole in the
wall a block from my building, and I opened the door for May as my mind
churned. Sarah honestly sounded fascinating. Who the hell had a passion for
birds, anyway? Gesturing May through the threshold, I followed her and
wondered how those slim shoulders draped in white silk could possibly hold
all that responsibility.
“So, do you think Sarah has improved since she moved in with you?” I
was so unsure of how such a simple concept as saying ‘thank you’ to my face
turned into a . . . a life story. Letting May in line before me, I reached to rub
my jaw and cover my mouth as I frowned. The smell of coffee flooded my
lungs, and May turned to me with a determined set in her features. “You
know, May, I have no idea what to say to any of this. As much as I appreciate
you seeking me out to thank me, and as admirable as you are, I don’t see
where this is going.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened and flashed greener, and she shook her head and
held up her hands in surrender. “I was just talking. I didn’t mean to make you
think I wanted something from you. I mean, I did— I wanted to thank you,
Mr. Santino. It’s . . . it’s just that you seem very trustworthy.”
“Right. I’m curious— where do you work? In a nice corner office, I
presume?” She glanced down, and I arched a brow quizzically when she
glanced up from under her thick lashes. “No? Really?”
“Not usually, no. I’m on a trip to Corporate for my boss. He’s a bit, um,
irresponsible with his schedule. I actually design ships. My official title is
‘Nautical Vessel Architect’ which is weird because nautical vessels by
definition are ships with sails and wood and . . . ” She trailed off, her cheeks
flaming as an appreciative smile stretched my lips, and I chuffed a laugh. “So
. . . yeah. That’s what I do. My team leader scheduled two meetings at the
same time, so he took the one with the big boss, and I’m being sent to the
sharks. Pardon the pun.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you not know what you’re talking or
listening to? At the very least, you look the part. They’ll go easy on you in
there because you’re cute.” The compliment earned me a giggle, and she
tucked her hair behind her ear before the line actually started to move. Now
that I thought about it, I did have a meeting in about an hour with someone
about shipping, and my eyelid twitched at the revelation. “You don’t happen
to have that meeting on the thirty-first floor of the building around the corner,
are you?”
“Yeah, why? Are you going to be there?” Do I or don’t I? What kind of
dumbass question was that? Nodding firmly, my smile widened when May’s
brightened, and I checked my watch absently. “So, what’s your strategy? Are
you going to try to pass the idea off as your own or admit you’re a know-
nothing underling out of your depth?”
“Oh, no, it is my plan. Most of the plans he brings up are mine, but he can
sell them a lot better than I can. I’m being looked at for a promotion.”
“Ah, well, allow me to congratulate you by paying for your large coffee.
You’re going to need it.” May nodded, mouthing ‘thank you,’ and I turned to
the barista just as the customer in front of us shuffled to the side.
5

May
The air was knocked from my lungs as I stared at the man sitting across from
me, and I could feel my face freezing from the icy tendrils that spread from
my chest.
“I-I’m sorry. Can you . . . did you say that David has been passing off my
intellectual innovation as his own?” The atmosphere in the room became
uncomfortable, and I leaned forward to clasp my hands on the glass table to
stop them shaking. “Can you repeat that?”
“I said I was surprised how knowledgeable you are about David’s
concept, Ms. Hart. Are you implying that the proposal he submitted to us was
committed to by you?” Covering my grimace with curled fingers, I could
only nod, and the executive watching me through narrowed eyes frowned
deeply. “Miss, these are serious accusations. Are you prepared to back up
your claims if we launch an investigation? We take innovative theft very
seriously.”
“Yes. Yes, I can back it up. I can prove they’re all my designs, all my
suggestive add-ons. I can prove the notes on the schematics are my
handwriting.” Casting Oran an exasperated scoff, I drummed my fingernails
on the table when he stared back levelly. Anxiety bore deep in my gut, and I
sat up a little straighter and inhaled sharply as I turned back to Malcom. “So,
are you telling me the . . . the promotion David told me I was being looked at
for . . . is he the one? Is he the one it was offered to?”
“I’m unable to discuss another employee’s positional fluidity with you,
Ms. Hart.” That was basically a ‘yes’! Licking my lips heavily, I sniffed as
the enormity of the betrayal clogged my throat and nose. “Launching an
investigation into these claims means your entire team will be investigated
for theft and fraud. All six of your co-workers will be immediately removed
from the office and won’t be allowed back until the investigation ends. If you
lodge this complaint against your team leader, you all will endure the
investigation on unpaid administrative leave.”
“Yes, I understand. I want to lodge the complaint— officially. This is my
work and I want my name on it.” Leaning back to tap my fingers against the
edge of the table, I didn’t hesitate to answer, and my mind worked furiously
— almost too furiously. This was ridiculous! Of course, I was going to fight
it. It wasn’t like I was popular on the team, anyway, so why not give them a
’real’ reason to dislike me. I was better at my job than they were, and I wasn’t
ashamed of it.
“Let me get this straight, Don.” Speaking up for the first time the entire
meeting, Oran leaned his forearms on the table to steeple his fingers. His
brows set seriously, his mouth dragged down at the corners, and he pursed his
lips thinly before parting them. “May spent the past half-hour explaining
something that I, personally, didn’t understand all, but that’s beside the point.
At what point did you suspect her team lead was passing her projects off as
his own?”
The executive, Don, sat back in his chair to rub his chin thoughtfully, and
I held my breath. I wasn’t sure what kind of weight Oran held, but he clearly
had a lot of it judging by the uncertainty on Don’s face.
“We suspected he didn’t know the exact particulars of his projects since
our first meeting, but there was no reason to suspect theft or fraud. It’s not
uncommon for these teams to be on four or five projects at a time. I decided
after our third meeting, this being our fifth, that unless we had cause not to
trust his word . . . ” My eyelid twitched in agitation, and Don cast me a tilt of
his head without looking away from Oran. “As for the promotion, I don’t
know what David said, but I know that I explained it was a salary and
resource bump for the team, not a personal promotion.”
Exhaling a shaky breath through my nose, I closed my eyes briefly as
anger boiled my blood. That ass! That stealing, cheating, egotistical ass!
Running my hands through my hair and down to circle my neck, I tensed
when someone cleared their throat, and Oran shot me a questioning look.
“No. David said the promotion I was being spotted for was for a bonus,
three extra yearly vacation days, and a two-dollar personal salary increase.”
Oran actually seemed surprised at my confession, and I inhaled a calm,
stabilizing breath as I struggled to keep my cool. I was in shoes I didn’t like,
that hurt my feet, and I was already less than happy coming into this meeting
feeling like a minnow in a fish tank. Damnit!
“Typically, we do not award more vacation days, dependent on a person’s
position. Regardless, that’s nothing like what we were proposing, so I apologi
—"
“Do it anyway.” Oran cut Don off, and my breath left my lungs as Oran
slumped in his chair. The atmosphere suddenly became calm, like a blanket
had fallen over us, and he still managed to be the biggest person in the room.
“I’ve texted my assistant to send an audit team to the office of one Ms. May
Hart to clear the equipment and place the team on administrative leave
pending an investigation. In the meantime, you’re going to turn over all the
information on all projects David presented before you. Seeing as Ms. Hart
was falsely informed of a promotion that doesn’t exist, and no one else has
been offered this promotion, there’s no one to contend it from her.”
“O-of course.” My mouth dried when Don turned to me, and goosebumps
washed under my shirt and across my chest. “Assuming the investigation
concludes that it is your innovative property, Ms. Hart.”
“Assuming it does, yes. For now, we’re going to adjourn this meeting
until after the investigation concludes.” Oran stood up, and I hastily followed
suit as he waltzed out of the conference room. His back was straight and tall,
and I gazed at him through glassy eyes as the situation just . . . hit me.
Punching the elevator button, Oran turned to me, took off his glasses, and
tucked them into his shirt pocket. “May, would you mind taking a little trip
with me up to the thirty-fifth floor?”
“Um, okay. Why?” Turning to me fully, Oran’s lips quirked up and
amusement twinkled in his eyes as heat slithered up my neck. “I’m sorry. I
can’t . . . I can’t believe that just happened. I’m still a little shocked.”
“You presented yourself very well in there. I was impressed.” The
compliment struck me, and my heart fluttered as Oran squinted at me faintly.
“I see how you do it now.”
“Do what?” Oran was definitely flirting with me, and his smirk widened
before the elevator gave a shrill ping. The doors slid open, and I rolled my
lips between my teeth to hide my smile when he gestured me in first.
Shouldering my purse, I huffed a small, stabilizing breath, and he punched
the floor button before speaking up.
“How you manage all that on those delicate shoulders.” He put the sleek,
thin-framed glasses back on, and my cheeks flamed even as he rocked back
on his heels and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You’re much more than you
first appear, aren’t you, May?”
“To be fair, you haven’t seen much of me so far.” The clap back earned
me a suggestive hum, but the conversation halted when the elevator jostled to
a stop, and the doors slid open. Shuffling out of the way as nameless faces
flashed in front of me, I turned to Oran when he cleared his throat. “So, why
are we going to the thirty-fifth floor?”
“Let’s just say getting an appointment with me is not something you
forfeit, and I believe you’re going to want to sit in on this one.” Curiosity
stained my tongue, and my brows furrowed when Oran’s eyes twinkled with
mischief. “You’re lucky. Not only did you get one meeting with me, you got
two, and you didn’t have to wait nine months in between.”
“So, are you a VP or something? Clearly, you like to boss people around,
and they don’t push back. This is the big office, but I really don’t know much
about it, considering I work for a subsidiary.” Oran barked a laugh, and my
brows rose in surprise when he covered his mouth to hide his smile. His
shallow dimples made an appearance, and my abdomen tightened as the
elevator became a smidgen smaller.
6

May
“Huh . . . ” To say he was surprised was wrong, but Oran clearly didn’t
expect the waiting room outside his office to be empty. Glancing at his
watch, he inhaled deeply and frowned as he turned to his secretary behind her
desk. “Malory, where the hell is my nine-thirty?”
“Oh, he never showed. I sent him a message confirming, but he replied
that he sent one of his subordinates, a woman named May Hart.” My brows
nearly flew off my face at that, and Oran shared a questioning glance with me
before I shook my head. “I explained to him that either he shows up or the
meeting is canceled. He reminded me, ‘as per my last email’ that his
subordinate is more than capable.”
Malory rolled her eyes at the desk lingo, and I clenched my jaw at the
absolute mess this day had become. Nothing had gone the way I expected,
and she propped her elbows on the desk on either side of her keyboard. Her
pretty model face scrunched up in distaste, and I could see Oran frown out of
the corner of my eye.
“Direct that glare somewhere else, Oran. Your morning is free. By the
way, I heard from this cute guy on the twenty-ninth floor that the Hanford
meeting did not go well.” Oran nodded before taking my elbow to lead me
into his office, and I glanced around as I crossed the threshold. I could barely
wrap my head around how David would jumble things up so damn bad, but I
had a pretty good idea why.
“You know, Oran, I’m the youngest on my team by fifteen years or more.
I think this was a setup to create a cause to fire me.” Perching on the sofa
against the wall, I clasped my hands together with a tired sigh. “This wasn’t
how I expected my morning to go.”
“Regardless, you’d still be missing a meeting. If you ask me, it’s a good
thing you picked the right one. My meeting with David was to discuss an
appropriate dry-dock expansion. Unless you feel like impressing me again?”
“Didn’t you just open a dry-dock a couple days ago?” Dropping down
next to me, Oran made himself comfortable and crossed his knees, and I
twiddled my thumbs a little as the left side of my body tingled excitedly.
“Why do you need more?”
“It’s for a private port up the coast, not the one in Seattle. The wharf is
being built right now, but I have a feeling the project will be delayed a good
few months because David’s probably going to get fired if the audit team
finds what you think they’re going to find.” He shot me a questioning look,
and I held my breath in expectation as he propped his cheek on his fist. “You
went to an architectural program, assuming you did extremely well to get
hired so young, allow me to pitch you an idea.”
“Okay.” Twisting to face him fully, I nodded, and Oran sat up to rest his
forearms on his knees as thoughtfulness drenched his handsome, sharp
features. “I’m . . . just fair warning, I suck at buildings. That’s why I do
boats.”
“It’s not a building. What do you think of an aesthetic nautical vessel, one
with ‘wood’ and sails and all that, with only the essential modern amenities
like bathrooms and proper sanitation and safety installations and a fairly
weak engine?” My brows rose in surprise, and Oran pursed his lips thinly as
he cocked his head. “It would probably be a coastal vessel, but it’s really just
a whimsical notion at this point.”
“Um . . . I’d have to do some research, but it sounds plausible. Why do
you want to do something like that?” For a long moment, Oran simply stared
at me, his gaze more intense through his lenses, and heat crept up my neck.
The silence rang in my head, and I reached nervously to tuck my hair behind
my ear before he spoke up.
“I just thought it was a cool idea, to be honest. A ship like that not stuck
in the harbor as a memorial or showpiece, even if it didn’t make money, it’d
still be really, really cool. There’d be certain safety regulations we just can’t
get around, of course, but . . . ” Trailing off, Oran inhaled deeply as he
straightened, and I nodded firmly in understanding. “There are uses for it—
RenFaire and weddings and other practical reasons to rent an aesthetically
accurate period ship. But how cool would it be to just look at something like
that?”
“You know, Oran, it’s not out of the realm of possibility to just build you
a boat in your backyard.” He smirked with a huff of a laugh, and I smiled
wider as my cheeks heated. “I wouldn’t mind looking into it, seeing as I’m
going to have at least a week of free time on my hands.”
“I appreciate it, May.” I had a feeling Oran really, really liked boats—
like a kid with a model, except much bigger and more comprehensive. His
dark brown eyes sparkled with gratitude. The air stilled, and my chest
tightened while my heart beat faster, harder against my ribs. Leaning the
short distance between us, I cupped his hard jaw, and strong hands
immediately wrapped around my sides. Electricity skittered across my face
and down my neck when my lips touched his, but my breath hitched when he
pulled back and squeezed my sides.
Apprehension gripped me in a vise as surprised eyes locked on mine, and
my heart hammered hard when they narrowed into slits. Butterflies assaulted
my abdomen, but Oran didn’t protest when I craned my neck to kiss him
again. Shuffling to straddle his lap, I pulled up my skirt a little before
gripping the back of the sofa, and the taste of him stained my lips.
Calloused palms slid down to grip my ass, and I moaned with a shudder.
Goosebumps washed over my entire body under my clothes when Oran
tangled his hand in my hair, and a gasp escaped me when he flipped me onto
my back flat on the sofa. Grinding against my lace thong, he tore his lips
from mine to trail heat down my neck, and I closed my eyes to savor his
mouth on my skin.
But a bucket of frigid water dumped on us when my cell phone started to
blare, and I tensed as the generic ringtone burrowed into my scope of
comprehension. Above me, Oran’s hot, frustrated exhale flowed under my
shirt and down my belly, and I groped around blindly for my purse.
“It’s my team lead.” Clearing my throat of its huskiness as Oran ground
his forehead against my sternum with a harsh grumble, I frowned darkly at
my phone. Thumbing the green button, I took a huge, stabilizing breath
before holding the device to my ear, and the taut hunk of man on top of me
started quietly unbuttoning my shirt. “Yeah, David?”
“What the hell is going on, May! I sent you to a meeting, and you fucking
get them to audit us! They’re taking all the equipment, the computers, the
schematics, the models— everything! What did you do?” Pulling the phone
away from my ear, I scrunched up my nose in disgust when David practically
whined like a baby. I mean, what did he expect? He lied to a whole bunch of
people, for a long time, and then sent me, the butt of his lie, to a meeting with
them. Arching slightly as I waited for David to stop screaming into the
phone, I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth when Oran kissed the swell
of my breast.
“You stole my work and passed it off as your own, and you outright lied
about the promotion, and you weren’t nearly as clever as you thought trying
to get a reason to fire me.” The angry tendrils of smoke steaming from my
boss’s ears seeped through the phone at my reply, and it took everything in
me to remain professional and not blast him. “You know what happens now,
right? You’re going to be fired for fraud and theft, David, and anyone on the
team who knew about it or was involved in it is going to get fired, too.
Which, let’s be honest here, everyone knows about it, and the partners on my
projects probably knowingly signed off your name as lead concept designer,
which means . . . the team is getting shut down if I’m the only one left.”
“You bitch.“ David hissed the slur, and Oran paused kissing down my
abdomen to glance up at me through narrowed eyes. Shaking my head
slightly, I frowned and mouthed an apology, but he simply sat up, and I
inhaled deeply, following suit. “I’m going to sue you for professional slander.
Every project, I was involved with. And if I get fired, I’m taking you to
court!”
“Oh, no. I’m so scared.” The deadpanned reply made my ear burn against
my phone speaker, and I ran my hand through my hair and closed my eyes to
take a deep, calming breath. “Also, you do know I’m currently in your
meeting with Mr. Santino, right? And because you didn’t show up, he’s
considering contracting me independently instead of our whole team. You
screamed loud enough that he heard everything you just said.”
Oran snorted, covering his mouth to stifle his laugh, and I winked at him
as satisfaction tore through my chest at David’s stunned silence.
“I’m going to my lawyer. I’ll see you in court.” David hung up on me in a
huff, and I set my phone in my lap to heave a massive sigh. There was no
doubt in my mind that my boss would really take me to court. He wouldn’t
win, but he’d make my life very difficult. As if I needed it. As if I could
handle anything else.
“Would you like me to escort you downstairs?” The offer surprised me,
and Oran reached to start buttoning up my blouse with a small, knowing
smile cresting his cheeks. “I’m not that much of a Neanderthal. You should
get home and prepare, May.”
“You think he’s really going to sue me?” My tone heightened, and I
frowned under furrowed brows as I rubbed my cheek roughly. “But won’t he
just be found out, and it’ll blow back on him?”
“I think he’ll really sue you, yes. He’ll try to bully you into it, most likely.
If he’s aggressive enough . . . ” Trailing off to cast me a look, Oran leaned
back to adjust my collar, and my frown deepened. “Also, you should get to
work on that idea I proposed. Chances are, your job won’t be available when
you get back, if what you say is true. You’ll have to be transferred to another
team.”
“Can I have your number?” Blurting out the question, flames licked my
cheeks when Oran’s smile morphed into a huge, shit-eating smirk, and I
puffed out my lips in a huff. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“You’re cute, May. Of course, you can have my number.”
7

Oran
The gun in my hand was heavy, and distaste soured my tongue as I examined
the action and pretended I was interested. I hated guns, but they were about
sixty-five percent of what I shipped around for whoever wanted to buy them.
Nodding absently, I held out the piece, and one of my dock workers took it to
put it back in the crate.
I had to resist the urge to wipe my hands on my jacket, and the hairs on
the backs of my palms bristled in disgust.
“What am I really here for? If you brought me here for a shipment of
standard assault rifles . . . ” Trailing off expectantly, I frowned under
furrowed brows as Candice smiled with a little half-shrug. She wasn’t too
ambitious with her stupid millennial shirt and beanie, but I didn’t hire her for
her ability to claw up the oiled pole. I guess she’s my version of Illya.
“I have some things I need to run by you since you decided to stay in the
States.” Her noticeable South London accent reminded me of the place.
Candice stuffed her hands in her jeans to lean on a crate of what I thought
were explosives. “We need to talk about the next big auction in India. I’ve set
everything up, as usual.”
“If you set everything up, why are you telling me about it? Your work
reflects in my bank account, Candice. It’s like STD testing— if nothing’s
wrong, don’t contact me.” That comparison got me a laugh, and Candice
shook her head even as I rocked back on my heels. “What are your
concerns?”
“I recently learned that someone’s leaking dates and times to the Italians.”
Straightening with a sharp inhale of surprise, I scowled as Candice rocked
back and forth on her heels. “I can’t reschedule, but I also don’t have the
power to do much about it except react. I need to know what you want me to
do, Oran.”
My brows furrowed in concentration as I closed my eyes and inhaled a
deep breath thick with water and oil and metal. The Italians, those damn
grease monkeys, what could they possibly be up to? Of course, there was
always the run-of-the-mill client stealing, sneaking into one of my functions
just to try to get interest in theirs.
The Italians that planted a snake in my garden . . . that forced my hand
against—
Shaking my head viciously, I exhaled a harsh sigh before I let my mind
wander down that rabbit hole. Taking off my glasses, I rubbed the lenses with
my shirt cuff as I redirected my mind to the present. True, it could all be
connected, and it was the same in a sense they were trying to sabotage from
the inside. I knew Diamon was a sneaky bastard. It was my job to keep an
eye on him, from which London was a safe distance.
“Contact the main office and find out what’s happening concerning the
Italians outside my sphere of control, Candice. Don’t do anything until they
get back to you. I don’t want to ruin my brother’s grandiose plans by acting
rashly. He may not get his hands dirty often, but when he does, it happens in
the most disgusting, animalistic way possible.” I didn’t get it— Carlyle got
rid of that Italian bitch. We uncovered the snake in my bed. Was this third
attempt a Hail Mary? Or was there something more going on that I just
couldn’t see? “Diamon has tried this at least twice that I know of and failed
twice. Until we’re sure there’s no one else, make secondary arrangements and
spring it on our guests. Take them on a boat down the Indus or something.”
“Yuh.“ Candice jutted out her chin, swiping her beanie off to reveal
pretty light brown hair that shimmered in the darkness of night. I rubbed my
jaw thoughtfully. “You know, as an underling seeing this from the outside, it
reminds me of something. For a really long time, the Soviets would just
throw men into battle, waves after waves of people, just fuck ’em into the
ground with bodies until there was no resistance left. No one could sleep. No
one could eat. No one could let down their guard. Eventually, they were just
exhausted, and they didn’t have the will to fight back.”
“I assume you have a point in there somewhere?” She slipped her beanie
back on, adjusting the hem around her ears carefully, and I arched a brow
quizzically.
“What if they’re throwing people at you, hoping one will slip through
while you’re focused on the others? I mean, planting a bitch in front of you
was a good idea. They did it to Mateo, too, so it makes sense to me if
someone’s hiding in my camp, there are more. If it were me, as an underling
on the outside, I would spring a trap. Rats always fall for traps.” That was an
interesting concept, and I nodded for Candice to continue as she tapped the
side of the crates she was leaning against with her heel. “No one even knows
for sure if Mateo’s situation was the Italians in the first place. The Italians
never paid her, so there’s no money trail back to them. All we have to go on
is Carlyle’s intuition, and while he’s rarely wrong, it’s not definitive proof.
It’s also safe to assume those girls were planted with every expectation of
them failing. So, the question becomes . . . who are they trying to keep the
spotlight off of?”
“That’s a good point. Diamon knew about Carlyle’s plan to kidnap his
sister. He had to have known about Mateo’s breakdown, and I have
absolutely no doubt he knows about my little purge . . . ” Trailing off, my
mouth dried at my own choice of words, and I inhaled deeply through flared
nostrils before shaking my head once again. “You know what, Candice—
you’re right. You are an underling, and you are on the outside of it. Keep
digging with that scenario in mind. But contact the main office first. And get
your cousin to work with you on it.”
She ducked her head in a nod, and I glanced around the cargo bay of the
boat we were on before turning my gaze upward. Here, at this moment, there
were no lights, and the stars twinkled brightly at me from above. The moon
was just a sliver of dull white. I stuck my hands in my pockets to flop my
head back fully and heaved a massive sigh.
“Do you believe in karma, Candice?” The boat rocked slightly under me
from the swell, and I frowned as I gazed up at the sky.
“If I did, I’d be in for a wallop. Why?” I loved London, and my eyelids
fluttered closed as her accent rang in my ears. I loved the flat I’d purchased.
Kara had picked it out, actually. She liked the balcony overlooking a walled
garden. She liked the walled garden she’d replicated for herself.
I missed her more than I cared to admit.
“The other two, I got them because Kara was lonely. She was so happy.
After a while, they were happy, too, when they realized things weren’t so
bad. But . . . Roquelle . . . Kara didn’t like Roquelle. Why did I take her
loneliness into account but not her suspicion? I kept Roquelle because she
was really good at sucking my cock. When did that take precedence over
Kara’s feelings?” Very rarely did I talk about Kara and my mistakes with her,
and my heart ached as it thundered against my ribs. Shame drenched my
body in a cold sweat, and I tilted my head down to catch Candice’s sad
frown. They’d met a few times, and Kara had even stayed with Candice at
one point when the flat flooded.
“Kara was the one who came to you, Oran. She’s the only one who
sought you out, asked for your protection, willingly. I can’t imagine how hard
it was to lose that and know it was your own fault, but . . . just because you
were together for almost six years, comfort doesn’t equate to love, Oran.”
Candice’s cheeks puffed out when her smile widened, and she wandered over
to me to touch my arm reassuringly. “I hope you understand that. You
weren’t in love with her, and she wasn’t in love with you. I’m sure the
moment she realized you ignored her opinion on Roquelle, she was preparing
herself for the inevitable. You know what I think? I think you made a
mistake, Oran, one you’re never going to make again.”
“You’re one of the few people I consider a friend, Candice. I appreciate
that.” Cupping the back of her neck, I squeeze gingerly, and her smile
brightened as she ducked out to take a soft jab at my arm.
“You’re a fucking egg, you know that? If I’m such a great friend, how
come you never come by for tea?” Rolling my eyes at that, I chuffed a laugh
and glanced at my phone to check the time. “Okay, okay, now, get off my
boat. We gotta go.”
Shaking my head with a slight smile, I headed for the ramp to set my feet
on the dock, then one of her crew pulled the collapsible slope to secure it to
the edge of the deck. Not bothering to watch her set sail, I turned on my heel
to walk back to my car, the faint glow of the headlights illuminating my way.
The time read nearly two a.m., and I was tired, lifting my hand to hide a
yawn before a shrill generic ping caught my attention. Fishing my phone out
of my jacket pocket, I frowned under furrowed brows at the unknown number
slashed across my screen.
I waited to open the picture message until I was in my car. The vehicle
backed up and turned around as I swiped around on the screen.
And there, in very sexy, very delicate looking pale blue lingerie was May.
Of course, her face wasn’t in the picture, but I could tell by the faint freckles
smattering her chest. Biting my lower lip, my eyes narrowed on her exposed
dusky pink nipples. She must’ve been laying down in the photo by the way
her hair splayed around her shoulders.
Me: This is the first text you send me? A nude?
I saved her number in my phone, tingling with the desire to put this
picture as my background like I was some kid seeing a girl half-naked for the
first time. Instead, I saved it to my gallery, and by then, May had started to
type a reply.
May: I wanted to make sure you didn’t ignore me because you didn’t
know the number
My lips quirked up, and I poised my thumbs only for the ellipsis to pop
up under her last text.
May: This is going to have to wait . . . my mom is calling
8

Oran
Six weeks later . . .

Spending all damn day in court with Landry was not my idea of a great time,
and my heel bounced impatiently against the floor. That asshole Stowel really
had tried to sue me. I glanced over at him, sitting with his lawyer. He didn’t
come off as slimy, but first glances could be deceiving.
“Oran?” Twisting at the whisper, surprise rose my brows as May slid into
the gallery pew behind me. I turned toward her while she leaned on the back
of my seat. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m being sued for refusal to abide by contractual wages. Did David not
drop the suit when you pushed back?” Her lips parted in an ‘oh,’ and May
shook her head with a devious glint in her eye. “I have a feeling I’m going to
enjoy this story. Where’s your lawyer?”
“I don’t have one. Want to go out in the hallway?” Holding out my hand,
I gestured her to give me the big file under her arm, and May frowned with a
confused crease between her brows. “You’re not a lawyer, are you?”
“No, but Landry is.” Hearing his voice, Landry twisted with a little wave,
and May took my word for it and handed him the folder. “I’ll cover this
personally. You read through that and get me if I’m not back before we’re
called up.”
“You got it.” Standing up, I shuffled out of the gallery, and May followed
as my mind churned furiously. I hadn’t heard from her in weeks, but I knew
this court date couldn’t be the only reason. Holding the door for her, I
frowned at the stress lines around her mouth and eyes, and we slipped into
the corridor to sit on a bench.
“Are you alright?” Shifting her pale pink purse into her lap, May nodded
quietly, and my eyes narrowed as suspicion sloshed in my chest. “Why don’t
you have a lawyer? What’s David suing you for?”
“Professional slander, because he can’t get a new job, fraud, and internal
corporate espionage.” A bark of a harsh, disbelieving laugh escaped me, and I
covered my mouth as I leaned back to take all that in. May cracked a small,
stressed-out smile, and I scoffed loudly before she continued. “Also, he wants
me to pay him his salary for the past four weeks since he got fired because
it’s supposedly my fault he decided to steal my work and got caught.”
“I heard about that from Malory. The whole team was fired except you,
and you got transferred to another team. How are they treating you?” May
waved a slender hand dismissively, and I inhaled deeply as anger flared in
my chest. “And you don’t have a lawyer to help you dispute all those
charges?”
“Okay, um, basically, what happened was I got served, right, about three
weeks ago. I then got a call to discuss the charges with David and his stupid
lawyer, so I went, and come to find out, the guy doctored documents. I can’t
prove it right now because I’m still waiting for the audit team to get back to
me. Anyway, I don’t have a lawyer because the one I had is a family court
lawyer who said he could handle a civil suit, but then he flaked on me, and I
couldn’t find another one in time. After David found out, he tried to meet
with me again a few days ago and offered to settle. Of course, not him paying
me, but me paying him. And it’s an astronomical number, like $70,000.”
“So, you’re here to request a continuance to get the evidence you need?”
Again, May nodded, and my cheek twitched in agitation. “Do you want me to
fast-track it? I can get it here within the hour.”
“Actually, I’m pretty okay with David thinking I’m scrambling. If he
wanted to go to court, he wouldn’t have tried twice to settle with me, right?
So, he knows his case is weak enough to be dependent on me not finding
anything in time. The only thing is that he subpoenaed the records, and I
didn’t, so it’s taking me a while. I think he thinks they just denied my request
outright, which they can’t because this is a legal matter.” She was so damn
smart it was baffling. I nodded mutely before May cast me a questioning
look. “What about you? Why are you here yourself, Oran?”
“Ah, someone I contracted in the past is claiming unpaid contractual
wages, like I said before. I could’ve just given it to him, but the guy’s been
pestering my office for months. I want to squash him under my heel
personally.” Reaching to swipe a few strands of stray hair from May’s
temple, I pursed my lips thinly, and her face tinged pink. “Is there something
else bothering you?”
May had once called me trustworthy, but I could sense her hesitancy as
she licked her lips nervously. Fiddling with her purse strap, she inhaled
through flared nostrils before shaking her head a little, and concern knit my
brows.
“It’s not a problem, per se. My sister, Sarah, is turning seventeen soon,
and she wants to go to this place, Sylvan Park Bird House, in North Carolina.
I can’t send her by herself, but I can’t take days off work with everything
going on. I mean, not that my new team is awful, but they’re . . . they’re
wary. They think I purposefully obliterated my last team, which isn’t
unreasonable considering the rumors flying around.” Oh, right. Sometimes, I
forget there’s a life outside the office for most people. I sat back a little as
May shrugged slightly, but she clearly was far from careless about the issue.
“I mean, theoretically, I have enough to get this court thing over today if I
really wanted, but I’m not as rock-solid as I’d like to be. Even then, I could
take a Friday and a Monday off and do it the weekend before her birthday,
but that’d only make the situation at work worse.”
“You’re in a hundred times better position with a lawyer, though. Let’s
go back in and see what Landry thinks. This kind of case is one he’s best at.”
I stood up, holding out my hand for her, and May smiled warmly as her
fingertips slid across my palm. “It might be a while before we’re out of here.
Is your sister home by herself?”
“Yeah. She knows it might be all day. Besides, she’s too busy planning
her dream trip.” Pulling open the door to the courtroom, I nodded at that. It
wasn’t really my business what May did with her sister. Walking back to
Landry, I gestured her to take my seat, and I glanced over at Stowel again.
Irritation gripped my heart in a vise when he smirked my way, but I kept my
expression neutral and confident. There was no way this idiot was going to
get the better of me.
I’d paid him all I agreed to, and I wouldn’t pay a penny more.
“Hart versus Warran.” The call from the judge surprised May and I both,
and I nodded curtly at Landry when he glanced back at me questioningly.
Across the aisle, David and his lawyer shuffled out of the pews, and my eyes
narrowed on him. Rubbing my jaw absently while Landry and May made
their way up, I couldn’t help but frown at the confident set of David’s
shoulders.
This should be interesting. I’d kept myself updated on the situation even
though May never specifically reached out to me, and she played herself
well. She was impressively sly and perceptive, and I inhaled deeply as my
thoughts strung along leisurely. David glanced over and tensed when he
noticed she’d gotten a lawyer before leaning to whisper to his own, and my
lip twitched up.
If her mere appearance was worrying, his case wasn’t just weak, it was
almost guaranteed to backfire on him, which was good. Everyone deserved
their dues.
“Ms. Hart, you’re being sued for one count of corporate espionage, six
counts of professional slander, and . . . ” Before the woman seated so far
above us could continue, David’s lawyer cleared his throat and interrupted
her. And this judge did not appreciate that at all if the scowl on her face was
any indication. “Is there a reason you interrupted me before I could even read
the charges, Mr. Thompson?”
“Ah, yes, Your Honor. My client is prepared to reduce the suit to one
count of professional slander, and $50,000 in punitive damages.”
“Your Honor, I see absolutely no reason to completely dismiss a count of
corporate espionage, five counts of slander, and the eleven fraud counts being
brought against my client. These are very serious allegations, and to just
dismiss them all is a misuse of the justice system.” The judge’s brows rose,
and I propped my forearms on the back of the pew in front of me to watch
Landry in action. “My client deserves her day in court to prove her
innocence, and just because Mr. Thompson has gotten cold feet—"
“Are you honestly arguing for a trial? I’m offering to reduce the suit.”
Landry was a pit bull in the courtroom, and satisfaction bubbled up like thick
tar against my ribs.
“Your Honor, by so grossly reducing the suit, it calls into question their
integrity. Not only that but demanding $50,000 in exchange is excessive
considering the seriousness of those allegations. Either the opposition filed
false claims, or the plaintiff is worried something worse than simply that will
come out in court.” Bink. I could practically hear David’s gaskets blowing,
and Landry held up what May had been able to get together. “Taking into
consideration the fact that an internal investigation into the team he was
leading proved without a doubt that the plaintiff was the one committing
fraud, coupled with not one but two attempts to settle out of court, and this
sudden decision to withdraw so many counts for seemingly no reason—"
“Alright. Alright, Mr. Landry.” The judge pushed back her straight brown
hair and tapped her cheek thoughtfully. Holding my breath, I sat on the edge
of my seat, anxiety gripping me in a vise as she glanced between the two
parties. “I agree with Mr. Landry that your sudden decision to withdraw so
many serious allegations and add a request for $50,000 in punitive damages
that weren’t in your original suit, is suspicious, Mr. Thompson. I’m
dismissing the suit against Ms. Hart.”
Exhaling hotly, I covered my mouth to hide my smile as the judge banged
her gavel, and May slumped against the table to duck her head. Relief surged
through me. Landry ate cases and lawyers like this for breakfast. Even though
this outcome wasn’t surprising, I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Practically
skipping into the gallery, May flashed me a huge, blindingly bright smile,
clutching her file and purse to her chest with white-knuckle tightness.
“Thank you. Thank you, Oran.” I half expected her to bow at the waist,
but May just slipped into the seat next to me to grab my hand and squeeze.
David breezed by, scowling and glaring, but she didn’t even notice as she
huffed happily. “I’ve never been to court. I didn’t know it would just end like
that. She just dismissed the suit . . . like that.”
Snapping her fingers as she whispered excitedly, May squeezed my hand
again, and her voice shook with relief and disbelief and a host of other
emotions. My chest tightened at how expressive she was in every way, and I
sat back a little to cross my knees. Suddenly, this wait for my case seemed
bearable.
9

May
“Thank you for the ride home, Oran. Do you want to come in? I’ll make
dinner.” The offer earned me a sexy smirk, and Oran’s eyes narrowed on me
as butterflies fluttered in my belly. “If you want.”
“I’d like that very much, but I wouldn’t want your sister to see anything
she shouldn’t.” Rolling my lips between my teeth, I leaned over across the
seat and crooked my finger at him. Today had been so long, waiting for
Oran’s case to be called, I couldn’t just leave him after what he did for me.
His eyes sparkled with the beginnings of desire, and I huffed a short breath as
his aftershave wafted into my nose.
“I told her to go to the library when you got called up. She’ll text me
when she’s on her way back.” The whisper earned me a soft hum, and I
pulled back to climb out of the car with excitement trilling in my veins. Oran
followed, and I shouldered my purse to dig for my keys on the way into the
three-family apartment. True, it wasn’t nice, but it wasn’t a complete dump,
either. I’d rather save up than get those few creature comforts, plus I could
commute to work without taking a second bus.
“It’s not super fancy, but it works.” Pushing my way into the entryway, I
unlocked my apartment door, and a gasp escaped me when Oran all but
pushed me inside. Pinning my front to the wall, he grabbed my hands to
brace on either side of my head, and I gasped as hard muscle played against
my back.
“Let’s pick up where we left off.” Growling in my ear, Oran tugged my
arms up to hold my wrists in one hand while the other caressed down my
side. Grinding against my ass, his hot breath flowing down my neck, I
moaned at this delicious way to end an otherwise tasteless day. Yanking up
my skirt, he clawed up my outer thigh, and I pushed my ass into his palm in
wanton desire. “How do you like it, May?”
“Any way you give it, Oran.” Grazing his teeth against my shoulder, he
groaned as he ground his bulge between my ass cheeks. Twisting me around,
Oran hoisted me up, and a husky giggle escaped me. “Oo-oo . . . now, you’re
the one impressing me.”
 “The thing is, I like it a little rough, but don’t worry, I know not to mark
where it can be seen. If that’s something you’re into.” My heart fluttered at
that, and I licked my lips heavily. Oran’s gaze bore into mine, searching, and
my thighs tightened around his waist as I took a breath.
“I am. Are you gonna ask me if I’m okay every two minutes?” Bracing
his forearm by my head, Oran frowned under his glasses at my question, and
embarrassment colored my cheeks. “Do you know what masochism is?”
His eyes widened, and I felt so stupid asking as his breath escaped his
chest when it concaved. My heart raced, and the stillness became unbearable
as Oran took off his glasses and squinted at me. Holding the lenses up, his
brows rose, and I almost wanted to snatch them as a peculiar, ugly humor
clung to my ribs.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to see if you have a halo or not.” Surprise twitched
my cheek, and Oran put his glasses back on and smiled almost fondly.
“What’s your specialty?”
“Why are you asking when you can find out from experience? If that’s
something you’re into.” Using his own words against him— as a taunt, not a
cautious offer— I cocked my head, and Oran groaned hungrily. “So, is that a
‘yes’?”
“We’ll have to explore that when I have more time to experience you,
May.” Capturing my lips harshly, Oran sealed his promise with a kiss, and I
grappled his shirt as need gripped my abdomen. Powerful hands gripped my
thighs, and my own caressed over lean, muscular shoulders to work the
buttons of his shirt. Blood beat against my eardrums, and I panted harshly as
he ground against my core. His tongue slipped past my teeth to tangle with
mine, and I lifted my knees to get a better grip on his sides.
“Fuck.” Reaching down to unfasten his dress pants, I rubbed Oran’s bulge
as he pushed up my bra to squeeze my breasts greedily. Arching into his
palms, I gasped hoarsely when he tore his mouth from mine to trail hot, open-
mouthed kisses down my neck. Squeezing my breasts together, he sucked my
nipple hard, nibbling and tugging, and a bead of sweat dribbled down my
neck. My heart beat furiously, and I rolled my hips shamelessly before
managing to free his rod.
“Oran.” Moaning when Oran shoved his hand between my legs, I hissed
in pleasure that ravaged my lungs and made it hard to breathe. Pushing aside
my thong as I pumped his cock from base to tip, Oran’s muscles rippled
against my front, and I reveled in it. This powerful man was quivering for
me, as he circled my clit with rough, calloused fingers. Clenching when he
slipped two fingers inside me, I shuddered at the sensation of them twisting
and curling.
The faint squelch from between my trembling thighs rose above my own
rapid heartbeat, and I tightened around Oran’s fingers. Rapture clouded my
mind, and he kissed up my neck before capturing my lips once again. The
taste of him flooded my senses, and I swiped the bulbous head of his cock
against my slit eagerly.
“Yes, yes, yes.” Gripping my hips in both his hands, Oran ducked into my
neck to groan and pant as I whimpered pathetically. Expectation sent shivers
down my spine, and I flexed my toes as he sucked the heat from my skin with
a shallow inhale. Easing past my entrance, just the head of Oran’s hard cock
sent powerful shocks of euphoria pulsing through me. My palm flew to his
shoulder, and he inched into my channel with a tortured, pleased groan as his
own palm smacked against the wall just to the left of my head.
“Shit, May-y-y . . . you’re so tight.” Grinding the compliment through his
teeth, Oran seated himself fully in me, and I flopped my head back to moan
loudly. “Ah, fuck.”
“Oh, God.” Pulling back his hips, Oran braced his feet firmer on the floor,
and I buried my fists in his shirt. “Fuck me . . . fuck me . . . oh-h-h God!
Yes!”
With a sharp snap, Oran thrust deep, his belt impressing my mound like a
brand, and I clamped down on him as stars burst behind my eyes. His girth
stretched my walls as he gasped breathlessly in my ear. The shock of his head
jabbing my cervix rattled my spine, and icy prickles swept up my chest and
along my collar bones.
The thick, pulsing veins spiderwebbing his shaft caressed my walls, and I
hissed in pleasure as red seeped into my blurry vision. Oran’s hot breath
scorched my shoulder, and I grabbed his sides to draw him even deeper into
my channel. Fisting and tugging his shirt, I tilted my hips to his beat as it
hastened, and he banged his forearm against the wall above my head to tangle
his hand in my hair.
Chapped lips found mine, and Oran’s glasses bumped against the bridge
of my nose as he pumped his hips hard and fast. The friction rubbed my
nipples raw, and I tensed as my abdomen tightened in preparation. Rolling
his hips, he groaned as my eyes boggled slightly, and I choked on his saliva
when he shoved his tongue down my throat.
 My toes curled, the fine hairs on my body bristling from the waves of
ecstasy that sloshed in my chest, and my hands somehow found their way
under Oran’s shirt. His muscles quivered, sharp and defined, and . . . God
damn, he’s so sexy!
“Oh . . . Holy . . . ” Tearing my mouth from his to wheeze, to try to
quench the fire in my lungs, the pressure behind my eyes built dangerously
high. Oran’s six-pack flexed wildly, his strained grunts and groans musical as
he thrust harder and more erratically. Shivering from the tension gripping my
body, I held my breath, and he sucked in a sharp whistle of breath before his
hips clung to mine. His muscles rippled furiously against my thighs, and he
gasped and sputtered as his heat spilled into me.
The sex was over so fast, but Oran didn’t let me fall as he slumped
against my front to pant harshly. Fog clouded my mind, made my thoughts
lost and fleeting, and I closed my eyes to rest my forehead on his taut
shoulder. My legs fell from around his waist, but they barely supported me
when my feet touched the hardwood.
“So, about dinner . . . ” Heat flushed my face at Oran’s husky purr in my
ear, as he nibbled my shoulder and neck insistently. Gulping down the dense
lump in my throat, I nodded unsteadily, and he pulled back to cup my chin
and kiss me fiercely. “Is that a code word, or are you actually going to feed
me?”
“I’m not the one who needs to keep it up.” Oran’s amusement glistened in
his eyes as he smirked broadly while I pulled my hands out of his shirt to
unbuckle and pull off his belt. “If I take too long . . . ”
Pushing his own belt against his chest, I clenched around his half-hard
cock, and Oran’s eyes narrowed into slits. Just the expectation was enough to
make me shiver, and he unfurled his fingers from my hair to pull out of my
channel.
“You’re an angel, May.” Gasping at the sudden emptiness, goosebumps
blanketed my body, and I jumped with a yelp when Oran flicked his belt
gently against my thigh. The sting wasn’t painful, more of a shock, and my
heart throbbed at the almost blind desire that rampaged in his eyes, amplified
by his prescription lenses. “Get going, then.”
10

May
Giggling as Oran dragged his belt seductively down my back, I gripped the
oven door handle with white-knuckled tightness as he ground his bulge
against my ass. Delicious shivers rattled my spine, and I ducked my head and
clenched my teeth when he pulled away. He snapped his belt, taunting me,
and I stuck out my ass as eagerness weakened my knees.
The sharp slap of real leather against my left cheek surged through me,
pushing a moan out of my mouth, and he groped my red, stinging flesh
greedily. His rough tongue soothed the spot with a thick layer of saliva, and
then he spread my ass cheeks to inhale deep and loud against my thong.
“Where have you been all my life, huh, May?” Grazing his teeth down
the silky fabric, keeping my need for him at bay, Oran fisted my hair to pull
me flush against his chest. His hot breaths flowed down my open shirt, and I
rested my head against his shoulder as we ground together. Tonight was like
the ultimate wet dream— no sister, no distractions, no one to worry about,
and what seemed like all the time in the world.
“If you came to Washington sooner, maybe you’d know the answer to
that by now.” My murmur earned me a groan of agreement, and Oran’s free
hand sensually glided down my front. Spreading my legs, I gasped when he
cupped my mound outside my thong as rough, chapped lips assaulted the
crook of my neck. “This is so nice. I never get the chance to just . . . be a
twenty-five-year-old.”
“I’m happy to be the one to give this to you.” Sinking into Oran’s chest, I
closed my eyes to savor his heat, and he wrapped a powerful forearm across
my chest to caress my cheek. “Is it that difficult?”
“I love my sister, but I’m not supposed to be her mom.” The confession
dulled our beautiful moment, and I inhaled deeply as guilt clawed up my
throat. Cracking open my eyes, I reached for the stove to lift the lid on the
pan of chicken parmesan bubbling away inside. “I don’t want to reach that
point of resignation, either. Sarah’s only been living with me for a little less
than a year, almost eleven months, and she’s a teenager, but it doesn’t stop
me from being responsible for her.”
 “I’ve never been in even a remotely similar situation, but I can
sympathize with the responsibility part.” Work-hardened palms settled on my
sides and squeezed gently, and I peered into the pan to decide it just wasn’t
quite melty-cheesy enough. “Having to consider someone else in everything
you do, the consequences, the blowback, it’s very restraining.”
“I feel bad for hating it. I feel like my parents don’t care about me as
much as they claim because they forced this on me. I mean, up until about
two years ago, everything was fine. Sarah was diagnosed when she was ten,
so it’s not like they didn’t know about it. One day, it seemed like they just
woke up and decided they didn’t want to deal with it anymore. My mom tried
to sell it to me as giving Sarah more opportunity in Seattle, but they dumped
her on me.” Setting the glass lid back on the pan, I turned to Oran to frown
under furrowed brows. “You know, this is the closest thing I’ve come to a
date in over a year? I mentioned before I had to split from my partner because
Sarah was taking up so much of my time and energy. Going to court for
guardianship, trying to get her to stay in school, juggling work . . . it was too
much to try to consider another person.”
“He pressured you?” Surprise and disgust roughened Oran’s tone, and he
shuffled to sit at the small table against the back wall of the kitchen as I
nodded. “That’s so fucked up, May. You realize that, right?”
“I had a feeling he was getting tired of me. We weren’t really compatible,
and we were starting to see it. It’s a learning curve, you know that.” Leaning
against the counter, I crossed my arms over my chest, and my bra cups dug
into my sides as I took a deep breath. “Like I said, I love my sister, but she’s
supposed to be my sister.”
“Have you considered trying to figure out a way to smooth things over
with your parents?” Scrunching up my nose at that was all the answer Oran
needed, and he frowned as he stretched out his legs and propped his elbow to
hold his cheek on his fist. He was so handsome at this moment that it almost
distracted me from the conversation. His tattoos peeked out from the open
collar of his shirt, his rolled-up sleeves revealing yet more ink, and I wanted
to touch and lick it all. “They’re not willing to compromise with their own
daughter?”
“My mom and I got into a fight a couple of days before the guardianship
hearing when I told her to come because I wasn’t sure I could do this. She
told me straight up that Sarah will get put in a group home if I try to send her
back. I don’t think our relationship is bad, but . . . ” I could only shrug at the
distaste that blazed in Oran’s gaze, and the smell of sauce, cheese, and
chicken wafted into my nostrils when I sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m doing
all I can to try to get her on her own when she’s eighteen. She’s really smart,
and if she likes something, it’ll take over her life. It’s just the work thing is a
problem.”
“She’s a bird lover, right? Why not try to incorporate that into
employment?” Oran took off his glasses to wipe the lenses as he posed his
question, and I took a second to lift the lid off the pan again. Satisfied with
the cheese, I turned off the burner and grabbed the plates as my mind
whirred. I’d gotten Sarah that job at Hansen’s, and it turned into a disaster—
of course, by no fault of her own, but she absolutely refused to go back. She
wouldn’t even go there to eat.
“You know, I’ve tried. I’m not equipped to deal with this. If Sarah
doesn’t like the jobs I offer to help her get, then she can do it herself. Do you
know how many people are willing to hire someone with autism? Even a case
as mild as hers, borderline, is so difficult to contend with.” Ugliness spread
across my chest, and I heaped each plate with a half a chicken breast
smothered in sauce and cheese to splatter onto the counter. Bringing both
plates to the small, rectangular table, I sat down next to Oran to run both my
hands through my hair and around my neck. “I’m sorry. I feel like every time
we see each other, I’m complaining.”
“I don’t consider it complaining, May.” My lips quirked up as relief
slumped my shoulders, and I shook my head as Oran sat up a little straighter.
Twirling my fork around thoughtfully, I cut into one end of my chicken, and
a puff of steam plumed in my face. “Thank you for dinner. It smells
amazing.”
“Thank you for the sex. It was amazing.” He smirked, reaching to
squeeze my knee under the table, and I cast him a curious glance. “So, why
did you move here, anyway? How did you get to be the big boss of pretty
much the largest employer in Seattle?”
“Ah, my father owned it and a bunch of other stuff. When he got too old,
he signed it over to my older brother, but I was going through a really rough
patch, so my brother gave it all to me so I wouldn’t drown in my sorrows.”
Something dark infected his voice, and Oran cleared his throat roughly as I
pushed my forkful past my teeth. “I moved here because the woman I had
been in a six-year partnership with had died suddenly. To be honest, it was
much more like we were just . . . together. We were friends with benefits at
one point, but that evolved into friendship, and it just went on like that.”
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Oran.” Mumbling around my bite, I
swallowed as soon as I could without choking on the big piece, and he stared
at his plate from under tightly knit brows. My heart ached for him, for the
blank look on his face, for the turmoil amplified in his eyes by his glasses,
and my mouth dried when no words came to mind.
“It’s not so bad anymore. I use the insane amount of work I inherited to
keep my mind off it. She had her two best friends with her, so at least she
wasn’t alone. In the end, it might even be better this way. I realized that the
man I was . . . was someone to be ashamed of. Her death made me see that I
needed to change.” Shooting me a wary side glance, Oran licked his lips
heavily, and I held my breath in anticipation. “When you told me you were a
masochist when I realized you were more into the pain, I was relieved. I used
to think that because I enjoyed inflicting pain, I was obligated to break and
rebuild. With my last partner’s death, I realized rebuilding someone the exact
way I wanted, with complete disregard for who they were at the core, was
wrong. It was a disservice to whoever I was with not to embrace who they
are, to tear down and build up to support those essential values.”
“Oh, Oran . . . that’s terrible. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He
cracked a small smile, and I stood up to sit on his lap and wrap my arms
around him. His jaw worked as it nestled against the swell of my breast, and
my fingers threaded through his styled, dark hair soothingly. “For what it’s
worth, you wouldn’t have been together so long if she didn’t enjoy being
with you. I think that’s the part you should hang onto, not the bad stuff.”
“For what it’s worth . . . she’s dead, May.” There was nothing I could say
to combat that, so I kept my mouth shut, but Oran didn’t pull away even as he
cut into his chicken parmesan. For the first time, I wondered if he was such a
great listener because he didn’t want to share himself.
11

Oran
“What did you find out?” Holding my secondary phone to my ear with my
shoulder, I spoke distractedly as I typed a quick message to May. Sliding the
smartphone into my inner jacket pocket, I turned my full attention to Candice
as an ominous silence hung over the line. “Well?”
“I don’t know if this constitutes as subterfuge, Oran, but I just got done
going through everything Carlyle’s guy sent me, and . . . ” She trailed off, her
accent thickening when she continued in a lower tone, and I pushed open the
door to the coffee shop with a frown plastered on my face. “I think the whole
point of those so-called ‘failed’ attempts was to split the three of you up.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Standing at the back of a
surprisingly long line— or maybe not so surprising considering the fact it
was Monday— I rubbed my jaw as I squinted to see the tiny letters on the
boards hanging overhead. “What do you have to support that?”
“It means exactly what it says, Oran. I think it’s a shoddy attempt to
divide and conquer. Those Italians are either purposefully blatant or
laughably incompetent. I’m not sure which, yet. Also, I don’t get why they’re
trying to take down the Syndicate this way, either. My best guess is they want
to take you and Mateo out, and then the old man and Carlyle, most likely in
that order. Even that makes very little sense because that’s a lot of targets to
take down in a relatively short amount of time to actually have a chance.
You’d think they’d be smarter than what this suggests.” Candice sighed in
irritation and I rubbed my jaw as that same sensation seared my veins. “You
haven’t talked to Carlyle, Mateo’s basically out for the count, and the old
man is, well, he’s old. It’s the only plausible explanation I can come up
with.”
“Work on it and get back to me when you have more than plausible
theories.” Hanging up on Candice, frustration flooded my lungs instead of
air, and I exhaled a hard sigh while my mind whirred. It was no secret that
Diamon was a damn idiot— he was far too susceptible to bad ideas if they
were sold well. The kid was definitively not his father, and that senile old
bastard had done well in his time. The Italian Mafia was old, well rooted, and
Diamon was trying too hard, too desperately, to make his mark on it.
I didn’t know why Carlyle didn’t just let them all destroy themselves,
frankly.
The Syndicate was much cleaner, much more efficient. It embraced the
pyramid and the individuals who filled that pyramid. Maybe that’s why
Diamon was trying so hard to take us down. He obviously entertained any
idea, no matter how stupid or unworkable. The way things used to be
wouldn’t work anymore— not in this age of technology and feigned security.
Buying off cops and politicians just didn’t work anymore, especially because
money was so easy to track. And terror, just plain terror, was the worst idea
imaginable.
The traditionalists— the Italians and the Russians, even the lesser known
pillars like the Albanians and Irish— they couldn’t adapt fast enough.
Which was why my father was able to create such a global phenomenon
so fast, to build the foundation so strongly. He didn’t put too much emphasis
on race or develop an ‘us-versus-them’ mentality that got in the way of the
ultimate goals.
Power and money.
My phone pinged for attention and I shook my head as I shuffled forward
a few steps. This was an issue I could trust Candice to figure out— she was
good at the big picture. Much better than I was, at least.
May: I had a lot of fun the other night if you want to get together I’m
down
“She really uses no punctuation with texts, but at least she doesn’t use
shorthand.” Mumbling to myself, I held off texting May to turn my attention
to the coffee menu, and a frown twisted my mouth. “I’ll just get it black and
fix it myself.”
My eyes were worse than usual this morning, or my glasses were bent or
warped in some way. Pulling the frames from my ears, I rolled my jaw as my
gaze became blurred and featureless.
“Oran.” Glancing up at the call, I squinted before putting my glasses back
on, and May’s brows furrowed above her worried expression. “Did you break
your glasses?”
“I think they might’ve gotten warped. I have another pair at work, though.
My eyesight is usually worse in the morning. Honestly, I really have no
idea.” I could only shrug at my own confusion and May gave a soft ‘ah’ as
she sidled up beside me. “What about you? Isn’t your office on the other side
of downtown?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to see you.” A tickle of something wiggled in my
chest at her sheepish confession, and May tinged pink up to her ears. “Um,
so, you remember how you asked me about that leisure ship?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, I’ve been working on a blueprint in my spare time and theorizing
how it can all work to fit today’s safety standards while maintaining that
historical aesthetic, and I’m pretty sure I figured it out. Part of it, at least.”
Pleasant surprise rose my brows and I gestured her to continue as we shuffled
toward the counter. “The thing I considered most was passing inspections,
but you can’t just outfit a wooden ship with modern amenities— they’re too
heavy, and it’s unsafe. So, I thought vinyl.”
“Vinyl . . . like the flooring?” She nodded firmly and I cupped my chin to
tap my cheek absently as I turned over that notion. “It’s certainly not the first
thing that comes to mind, outfitting a ship with vinyl instead of using real
wood.”
“But that’s the great thing about it— you want an aesthetically pleasing
and historically accurate ship that will sail the shallows. It’s not supposed to
be a monument to the original— it just has to look it. Assuming you’ll have
the main deck and A deck available to whoever rents out the ship, there’s no
reason for them to go lower than the gun, so everything in the orlop can be
modern.” My blank look must’ve been more than enough of an indication
that the technical terms were beyond me, and May smirked a little as she
nudged me with her elbow. “You put ‘Authorized Access Only’ signs where
there’s no vinyl.”
“Ah, you could’ve just said that.” Smiling when she laughed, I gestured
May in front of me when the line trudged forward. “So, are you available to
show me what you have so far?”
“Yeah. Because of how I got onto the team, they basically don’t let me do
anything. I can’t staple two pages together without getting looks. Did you
want to do that right now, this morning?”
“I’d like to. I have an appointment at eleven a.m., I believe.” Leaning
down, a twinge of embarrassment struck my chest, and I pursed my lips
thinly. “Would you mind telling me what the sugar measurement is? Five was
too many.”
“Five is definitely too many. Do you usually get coffee here?” Shaking
my head, I pressed my palm against the small of her back, but her soft, dark
green dress couldn’t hide how she tensed. “How do you like it?”
“However you like to give it.” Chuffing a laugh when she huffed at my
taunt, I straightened as those flashing, multi-colored eyes met mine. May
turned to the counter and I kept my mouth shut as she ordered for me . . . with
three sugars. Pulling my wallet out as she followed up with her own order, I
waited for the barista to ring her out before grabbing her attention again. “So,
do you think this project is feasible? I know there’s probably not a huge
market for it, but like I said before, I think it’s a cool idea.”
“I think it’s a money pit, but it’s definitely possible. If I had to put a price
tag on something like that, it’d be $2-4 million, depending on the size of the
ship. Obviously, you have a lot of resources available, so it would probably
be less. Still, my guestimate is entirely based on the research of materials, the
engine, the median optional aesthetic outfits, and stuff like that.” I could
listen to her talk all fucking day. The thought hit me hard, and I nodded when
May stopped speaking to run a hand up under her loose bun. “If I had exact
information, it’d be way more accurate, that goes without saying.”
“Show me what you’ve got and I’ll get you some exact information.” The
offer earned me a funny look, and I pursed my lips as I scanned her up and
down shrewdly. “How’s your sister? You kinda shoved me out the door the
other night when she texted you.”
“Well, she didn’t text me when she left the library. She texted me when
she was four blocks away. Sarah’s okay, excited about her birthday in two
weeks. I haven’t decided what to do yet.” Our cups landed on the pick-up
counter, and I took mine as May gave a little shrug before grabbing hers.
“Can’t really tell her ‘no’ when I don’t even know if it’ll be a ‘no’.”
“I see. Is your concern about her condition or are you just nervous about
the fact that where she wants to go is three thousand miles away?” Walking
toward the exit, I took a sip of my brew, and, burning tongue aside, it was
exactly the way I wanted it. Holding open the door for May, I gave her that
moment to think before we emerged onto the sidewalk. The air was crisp and
salty, the ocean less than two miles away, and she frowned under furrowed
brows when I glanced down.
“It’s definitely how far away it is.” My mind churned at that, but was it
even my place to try to come up with a solution? “I don’t know. I’m sure I
can figure something out.”
No, it’s not really my place.
12

May
Walking into the lobby of my office building, I shouldered my purse and took
a preemptive gulp of my coffee as anxiety pooled in my abdomen. I didn’t
want to give my new team any reason to dislike me or give my new boss a
reason to fire me. Heading for the elevator, I punched the button and rocked
back on my heels to glance at Oran. He’d obviously never been in this
building, and I gnawed my inner cheek before opening my mouth.
“So, before we go up, I should mention that my co-workers are wary of
me, but my boss is absolutely gunning for me. I’m honestly convinced he
thinks I set David up. They were kind of buddies.” Rolling my lips between
my teeth at the quizzical glance Oran sent me, I hugged my purse to my side
tighter. “I’m fifteen minutes later right now, honestly.”
“Well, you’ve got a good excuse. You’re going to present to me when,
normally, you’d have to go to Don or one of his lackeys.”
“You just want to make me happy so I’ll invite you over again. I know
what you’re doing, Oran.” He held up his hands in surrender, and I couldn’t
help but laugh as the elevator doors slid open. Stepping across the threshold,
goosebumps blanketed my body when Oran held my waist, and I tilted my
head back just as he ducked to kiss my neck.
“I’m glad both my ulterior motives are obvious.” The moment was so
fast, I barely had time to react, and a gasp breached my lips when Oran
grabbed my ass and squeezed. Turning as the doors slid shut, I reached to
touch my neck, the phantom of his lips tingling on my skin. He didn’t try to
touch me again, and I kinda missed it as I glanced over at him with the
smallest, handsomest smirk on his face.
“So, if I said dinner on Friday would make me happy, what would you
say?” His brows rose suggestively and he tilted his head just so with a slick
smirk. “Late and light?”
“Late and light.” Accomplishment blossomed in my chest at his
confirmation, and I smiled as I tucked stray strands of hair behind my ear.
The elevator suddenly stopped and Oran gestured me out first and onto my
floor. The cube farm I lived in sprawled out in front of me, and my desk was
right in the middle of it all. Each team had a cluster of desks, and my position
was telling— I was farthest away from my team and in the middle of the
dreaded ‘perfume cloud’.
“Hold your breath, Oran.” Just as I spoke, the stench of cheap perfume
slithered along the roof of my mouth, and he very actively covered his mouth
with the back of his hand. We finally reached my desk, and I crouched to pull
open the lowest drawer. “I’m sorry. It’s not like you can do anything about it,
unfortunately. You complain and suddenly it’s an ice bath in here.”
“I do not envy you, May.” The overstuffed folder wasn’t very tidy, and I
popped up to hold it to my chest as Oran looked around warily. At least four
inches thick, the manila file was smooth against my forearms. He glanced
down at me with admiration. “That’s quite the folder.”
“Praise me more.” Gesturing him to follow me, I wound my way to my
team leader’s desk, but he barely glanced up at me even as I cleared my
throat. “I’m going to need the conf—"
“It’s in use.” Cutting me off, Jerry squinted at his computer, leaning in,
telling me clearly that I wasn’t wanted around. I licked my lips as
apprehension flooded my gut.
“Jerry, come on. I have a pres—" Holding up a hand, he turned to me
with his scruffy beard and tired eyes, and my own narrowed. “I know I’m
supposed to book it in advance, but—"
“Yeah, May, you are, because it’s in use. You begging isn’t going to
make it not in use.” Irritation seared across my chest, but Jerry had a point
and he knew it. Turning to Oran, almost as a second thought, he scoffed a
little and shook his head. “You could’ve called if the meeting was that
important and abrupt.”
“You have to share a single conference room between the five teams
working on this floor?” The question didn’t come from me, and Jerry
frowned under his bushy, salt-and-pepper eyebrows as they drew together.
Tension zinged in the air, barely noticeable, and all I could do was stand
there awkwardly between them.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” Jerry lifted himself from his chair as
he posed his questions. He wasn’t rotund or greasy or anything, but he clearly
didn’t like me or anything I tried to do. Watching him square up with Oran,
knowing the muscle hidden under that dark blue jacket, would’ve been
comical with Jerry’s aged frame.
But I needed this job, at least right now.
 “I own this building and everyone in it, including you.” Oran plucked a
card from his pocket, and his smirk was almost malicious as he held it out
between two fingers. “Oran Santino. I’m your boss’s boss’s boss’s
subsidiary’s boss’s boss’s boss’s . . . boss.”
Amusement and authority thickened Oran’s tone, and suddenly, Jerry
wasn’t looking down his nose at him. My team lead stood up a little straighter
and I felt immensely relieved in this moment. The validation! Taking the card,
Jerry’s brows came together tightly as he glanced down at it.
“So, let me get this straight. You somehow managed a meeting on the fly
with the CEO when you’re not currently working on any projects even close
to being prepared for a presentation.” Jerry handed Oran back the card and
took on that tone of talking down to someone, and my face heated in offense.
“I don’t buy it. Just because you have a nice suit and a card doesn’t make
your story any more believable.”
“Jerry—" Turning to me, Jerry frowned in disapproval and straight
disdain, and I sucked in a sharp breath. The hairs on the back of my neck
stood up and I clenched my jaw hard.
“No offense, May, but I seriously don’t have time for this. You were late,
you just want the conference room for God only knows why with someone
off the street, and whatever is in that folder isn’t something assigned to you,
which means you’re working on something personal during work hours.”
“You don’t give me any work to do, anyway. I was commissioned for this
before I had to change teams—”
“Before you changed teams? You got your entire team fired by claiming
they were all in on this big conspiracy against you.” Oh, I saw red! Handing
my huge folder to Oran, I stepped up to Jerry to poke him right in his stupid,
thin chest.
“Don’t you interrupt me, damnit! I put up with your huffy ass for a whole
month, Jerry!” Fire surged from my nose as I yelled at him, and he went a
little wide-eyed as his chin doubled over against his sternum. The entire cube
farm went quiet, and I poked him again, this time hard enough to send him
into his chair with a grunt. “I didn’t do anything but expose David’s lies
about my work. If you want to blame someone for him being fired, blame
him. The investigation proved he and everyone else on his team knowingly
committed innovative theft, and if David wasn’t so . . . so fucking stupid, then
why the hell did he send me to a meeting that would’ve inevitably ended in
an investigation!”
 “May. May.” Taking my shoulders, Oran squeezed as I trembled with a
mix of embarrassment and rage, and I glared hotly at Jerry. “Hey, relax. It’s
not like he compared you to a flat-earther.”
“What’s with all the noise?” Blood drummed in my ears and I swiped
back my hair with a huff as the head supervisor weaved his way between
chairs and nosy people. When he saw Oran, he paused for a brief second, and
Oran squeezed my shoulders again before turning to my supervisor. Shivers
gripped my spine and I crossed my arms tightly as the curiosity thickening
the air reached its peak. “And you are?”
“We’ve spoken on the phone, but I don’t believe we’ve met in person.
Oran Santino.” My supervisor obviously recognized Oran’s deep timber, and
he smiled even though it didn’t get very far. “How many conference rooms
do you have available, and are any of them in use?”
“We have three, and only one is being used right now, sir. I apologize. I
didn’t know you were stopping by.” The supervisor cast me a brief
questioning glance, and I huffed and puffed in an effort to calm down as I
curtly shook my head. I smoothed my dress against my abdomen with sharp
movements, and my supervisor turned his curious eyes on Oran. “What can I
do for you today, sir?”
“Ms. Hart has a presentation for me. Seeing as her new team lead has
been so gracious with her workload, she’s willing to present what she’s
managed to scrape together the past few weeks. If you’re going to give her a
hard time about a conference room, I can always bring her to my office, but
you’ll probably never see her again. She’s very good at her job from what
I’ve seen so far— too good to be working in the muck the interns don’t want
to do.” The compliment dumped cold water on my anger, and flames licked
up my neck as my supervisor took on an absolutely horrified but muted
expression. Casting a narrowed, critical glance at Jerry, Oran frowned in
distaste that glistened brightly in his eyes. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one
disliked upon first glance. “I should’ve done it already, I suspect.”
13

Oran
“Do you have any questions?” May didn’t look nearly as nervous as she
must’ve felt, or maybe she just wasn’t nervous at all. I leaned back in my
chair to cup my cheek thoughtfully. The way she thought up the design was a
way I hadn’t heard of, and I tapped my temple as I stared at her expectantly.
Drumming my fingers on the table, I rolled my jaw as my mind churned, then
I turned to the supervisor, Mark.
“What do you think? Honest opinion, please.” This middle-aged guy,
older than me by at least ten years, pursed his lips, but I could see the stars in
his eyes.
“I think it’s pretty damn obvious why David would steal from her, for
sure.” Nodding curtly, I let my mind bowl over all that technical jargon I
didn’t understand. With May on this project, it could certainly be done.
“That’s so simple. To use vinyl is a very out-there idea, and using smaller
engines disproportionate to the actual ship to sail with the tides . . . ”
“My thoughts exactly. What do you think consumer-wise? Do you think
it’d catch on?” Mark rubbed his head thoughtfully, but the answer honestly
didn’t matter to me. I was going to do it regardless. I’d fund it personally if I
had to. Not breaking even wasn’t something I considered.
This was just a really cool idea and I had someone who could bring it to
life.
“Without consideration of operating costs, and assuming you have proper
market targeting . . . yeah, without a doubt, you’d at least break even on
production within . . . two years, I’d guess. It’d be a niche, but people who go
to Ren Fairs also spend eight months out of the year designing and creating
their costumes. Not to mention weddings, parties, other events. If this were a
team project, it’d be ready to go into design phase, just about. You did all this
by yourself in just the last five weeks, May?” She nodded, her face lighting
up as her cheeks puffed in a huge grin. My chest warmed as affection tilted
my lips.
“Jerry didn’t give me any work, so this is what I’ve been doing. Since it’s
a project directly assigned to me by Oran, I didn’t think it was a big deal.
Also, this is way more fun than trying to redesign a freighter.” Ah, now we
were at an impasse, I knew— May wanted to give her new team a chance to
get used to her, but what she didn’t realize was she was a threat. She was the
girl other co-workers hated because she was just inherently innovative and
adaptable and resourceful. “I totally understand if you want me to do it on my
own time, but it is technically work-related. All I do is organize everyone
else’s documents, and my team is one unnecessary person larger than it
should be. All the other teams are full, and I really don’t think I’d be
welcome, anyway.”
“Okay. Is that what the yelling was about?” Her smile dulled, and May
sat in the chair at the head of the table to twiddle her thumbs in her lap. I sat
back and watched, rubbing my jaw as my gaze darted around the spread
covering almost every inch of three-quarters of the table. “What happened?”
“Jerry is just mad. He and David were buddies, so when David got fired
for stealing my stuff, I was the cause, so I got the blame. Which is dumb,
because David was the one actively trying to get me fired in the first place.
Jerry only lets me be so involved that I can’t claim bias negligence, and he
made a jab at me the other day about my being paid almost four dollars more
per hour than anyone else, which just made them dislike me more.” Lifting
her hands onto the table to clasp her fingers, May frowned fully. I crossed my
knees and leaned a little farther back in my chair. “I get why it looks the way
it does, but those records aren’t a secret. It was proven irrefutably that David
stole my work and passed it on as his own the entire time I’ve been here. That
was a possible promotion for me. That was eight projects I can’t put in my
portfolio because of the investigation. I could be consolidated by now if it
wasn’t for him, but I’m being treated like garbage for something he did to
himself.”
“May, I can’t force anyone to be nice to you. It’s not that I don’t
sympathize, but you said it yourself— you’re involved just enough that you
can’t claim personal bias in the workplace. As for the pay, your pay isn’t
public knowledge, so I’ll find out how he found out, and if it was somehow
dubious or intended to create a toxic work environment, then I can do
something about it.”
“Mark, okay, I don’t think you get what I’m trying to say.” Straightening,
May practically skewed her supervisor as her voice deepened slightly, and I
held my breath in anticipation. “I’m going to quit if you don’t do something
about the hostility being directed at me. I don’t care if they’re nice. There are
plenty of other firms that’ll give me the professional opportunities I deserve.
David may not be able to find a job, but I sure as hell can, and I will. I don’t
care how it sounds— I know how good I am at this, and if I’m working in a
dead-end position, I’ll go somewhere else in a heartbeat.”
“I’ll have a conversation with your team and Jerry, but I can’t promise
they’ll treat you better. A talk might even make it worse, May.” Like any
good negotiation, May knew she had all the cards. She nodded at Mark’s
cautionary tone. “Was there anything else?”
“Yes.” Speaking up quickly, I sat straight to stretch out my legs under the
table, and Mark arched his brows at me in surprise. Frowning darkly, I could
still taste that shit on the roof of my mouth, and he visibly shuffled in his
seat. “What the fuck is with the perfume, Mark? That shit is a safety hazard
and it’s against regulations to wear perfume in any office space. There’s a
reason for that, you know that. Someone almost died due to an asthmatic
reaction. Do you not take that seriously?”
“I can tell them to wash it off. I can send them home for the day. But
those women will wear that stuff regardless. We had a safety seminar where
it was stressed, and the reason why, just two weeks ago, Mr. Santino, but,
obviously, some people weren’t listening.”
“Do you have a list of who’s repeatedly ignored the rules and gotten
complaints lodged against them? This is why I show up without warning,
Mark.” He nodded, hoisting himself out of his seat to trudge out of the
conference room and back to his office in expectant silence. Glancing over at
May, I only shrugged at the humored look on her face. “I like to meddle.”
“Obviously. So, is that true? It’s against regulations in your offices to
wear any perfume at all?”
“Yes. Years ago, long before I took over, a man almost died from an
asthma attack, as I said. Any perfume, anything you can smell like lotions or
whatever, are not allowed in the workplace. Even scented hand sanitizer isn’t
allowed— it all has to be unscented. The guy’s family sued on his behalf and
we settled because it wasn’t malicious and they were fully entitled to
whatever amount they received. The changes we implemented as a result, so
it never happened again.” Surprise rose her slender brows, and my lips
twitched in a smirk. “The perks of having a family business— I know about
shit that happened before I was handed the reins.”
She gave a soft ‘ah’ before the glass door swung open, and I stood up to
take the page Mark had printed out. The top half of the page listed the times
and dates of related seminars, and the bottom half were names and dates of
complaints. Scanning the list, I frowned at how the complaints seemed to
spike following a seminar.
The same four names popped up with the most complaints, too.
“Mark, I hate to do your job for you, but . . . ” Rounding the large,
circular table, I didn’t give Mark a chance to speak up as I left the conference
room. Mark wasn’t a bad guy, he just didn’t go the extra mile to enforce
rules, which was why he was still a mid-level supervisor. Grabbing the
floor’s attention, I called off the names I’d singled out and all four women
stood up from beneath their dense clouds of noxiousness. They weren’t on
the same team, but they all sat relatively close to each other.
Piling into the conference room, I ignored May packing up her folder out
of the corner of my eye. Even now, I had to hold my breath, but the stench of
different kinds of perfume mixed together still made my eyes water under my
glasses.
“I’m going to say this once, and only once. Wash off that horrible
perfume and read the safety regulation book. If anyone wears perfume again,
you’ll be fired on the spot. Mark, here, isn’t going to take a complaint— he’s
going to fire you right then and there.” The girls were shocked— shocked!—
at my declaration, and I arched a brow in silent inquiry. “Do I make myself
clear?”
“I’m sorry, I read the handbook and nowhere in it does it say that perfume
is against safety regulations. Lotions have to be unscented, but—" Holding a
hand up to stop her, I narrowed my eyes on a slightly older, slightly chunky
woman, her face tinged pink. “Excuse you! I’ve worked here for almost
fifteen years and perfume has always been allowed!”
“I can always fire you for cause if that’s what you prefer.” Her rounded
face became even redder at my flippant tone, and I leaned on the table
between chairs to cross my arms. “You’ve been working here for so long, so
you know the regulation handbooks were updated every year, and you
should’ve received a copy. You also are required to attend workplace
etiquette seminars where this subject is specifically discussed. So, either you
purposefully ignored safety regulations, which in itself is cause for
termination, or . . . well, what other reason could there be?”
“Exactly who are you again?” This whole subsidiary is starting to get on
my nerves. Did no one do their research on their parent companies? Was I
just some douchebag with a particularly itchy fire finger?
Yes.
Yes, I was.
14

May
“Malory, what can you tell me about Seattle Bay Nautical Design
Subsidiary?” Watching Oran as I neatly stacked all my materials, I frowned
under furrowed brows as the bridge of my nose tingled wildly. Those four
women he’d called into the conference room went back to their desks, but
Mark still stood by awkwardly, and I licked my lips heavily. I had a feeling
he was going to do something drastic, and judging by the distaste drowning
his sharp features, I was right.
Oran went on mini power trips. I got that. He looked for people to fire
just so he could do it himself. It was understandable considering how
powerless he must’ve felt when he lost his partner.
But exerting his power over someone like that, even if that person
deserved it, wasn’t going to help him. Sadness tightened my chest and I
paused what I was doing when he spoke up again.
“So, they’re just hemorrhaging money is what you’re saying?” Oh, shit. I
could see where this was going, so I rounded the table to grab Oran’s forearm
and pull his phone from his ear.
“Oran, no. You can’t just do that. You can’t axe the entire company
because some idiot didn’t recognize you. That’s not okay.” I spoke firmly but
softly, very aware of the muscles roiling under my palm, and Oran frowned
darkly at me as my heart threatened to burst from my chest. “Just . . . this
isn’t going to help, okay, and I think you know that. Just hang up the phone
and we’ll talk about it with Mark and the two other supervisors another time,
okay?”
Squeezing his arm insistently, the fabric of his shirt imprinted on my
palm, and he pursed his lips thinly before doing as I requested. Setting his
phone on the table, Oran’s frown twisted in distaste, and relief surged
through my veins.
“I suppose you have a point.” Ducking my head in a nod at his mumble,
my palm slid from his arm, and Oran inhaled deeply as he rubbed his jaw
roughly. “Apparently, there are some more serious issues that need to be
probed . . . properly.”
 “Right, good. Okay, I presented to you, but I do have to get through the
rest of the day. I’ll walk you out.” I waited for Oran to exhale heavily before
striding for the door, and he opened it for me to gesture me though. Tension
buzzed between my shoulders, but I tried to shake it away as we skited the
cube farm and headed toward the elevator. “I know you’re trying to help,
Oran, but you really didn’t do me any favors by turning the whole office
against me.”
“The perfume issue had nothing to do with you, May.” Thank God the
elevator opened almost immediately, and I pursed my lips thinly to hide my
frown. Once the doors closed us inside, I turned to him fully, and Oran sort of
squared me up the same way he’d done with Jerry. For a long second, I
thought carefully about my next words, while he pushed his sleek-framed
glasses up his nose a little.
“I brought you in, so you going on a rampage like that affects me, Oran.
You can’t just name-drop yourself and get what you want. Jerry might be an
asshole, but he was right. I should’ve at least called to ask about a room, and
my team is only allowed to use room one, which is the conference room
being used. He was totally in the right even if he was an ass about it. This is a
subsidiary company of yours, and I know you’re the ultimate boss, but . . .
how many times have you been in this building? Never. So you don’t get to
expect people to know who you are.” I spoke as gently as I could, and Oran’s
eyes flickered with guilt, just the faintest spark. Reaching to touch his
shoulder, I managed a comforting smile while the strangest sensation washed
over me. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t control every single thing at every
little company under your umbrella. It’s not going to make you feel any
better. Firing people left and right for the most minor thing isn’t going to do
anything but ruin those people’s lives. It won’t affect you at all.”
“This has nothing to do with Kara, if that’s what you’re getting at, May.”
I almost winced at that. So, her name was Kara . . . that’s pretty. Taking a
stabilizing breath, I shook my head as Oran’s shoulder flexed under my palm
when he tensed.
“It may not have anything to do with her, Oran, but her death obviously
hit you harder than you’re willing to admit. You can’t take that out on
strangers for the smallest, justifiable reason you can find.” He sucked in a
sharp breath at my declaration and I stepped back to cross my arms over my
chest. “Everyone deals with death differently, and you said it yourself, Oran
— you’ve changed. Are you going to turn all that progress around because of
a few unhappy, middle-aged women with low self-esteem?”
“You’re making this into something it’s not.”
“You mentioned her without any prompting from me. I’m not saying a
guy almost dying isn’t cause enough to enforce a rule like that, Oran. I’m
saying you should let the supervisors do their jobs. They have the complaints,
they’re following the rules by doing the seminars, and it’s at their discretion
to police their employees. Are you implying that you’re doing right by the
supervisors by shutting the whole place down even though they didn’t do
anything wrong? On a whim? Just because you want to flex a little?” His
eyes narrowed on me, his lips thinning and his jaw ticking, but I didn’t back
down. “There are over sixty people involved in this department alone, not
including support staff. What about those people? They’re just gonna come to
work one day to find they have no job because of something done by
someone they don’t know?”
“Alright, okay, I get it.” Running his hands through his hair in agitation,
Oran breathed a sigh through flared nostrils, and I sucked my bottom lip
between my teeth. He looked so tortured, for only a fraction of a second. I
saw how crazy he truly felt and my heart ached for him. “I’ll reign it in . . . or
try to, at least.”
“Thank you.” Swinging his arms down, Oran leaned against the wall, but
the elevator suddenly stopped in its tracks and the doors slid open to reveal
the lobby. He hesitated before stepping off, and I held the doors open as he
straightened his suit jacket sharply. “I’ll see you on Friday, okay?”
“See you Friday, May.” I let go of the doors and Oran frowned under
brows tightly knit by troubling thoughts before he was fully blocked from my
view. Jabbing the button for my floor with my thumb, I slumped against the
metal-plated wall to heave a massive sigh. Rubbing my palms up my cheeks
and into my hair, I closed my eyes as my brain flipped firmly to damage
control.
This was bad. I’m gonna be the most hated person in the office now, not
just on my team. Frustration welled in my chest, but guilt clawed at my
throat. Would Oran act this way if we weren’t messing around? Regardless,
we had sex, and he clearly wanted to have sex again, and I definitely wanted
to have sex again . . . so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he was
doing this shit for me.
As much as I appreciated the thought behind it, Oran wasn’t going to
have to deal with the fallout of his little tirade.
 “Shit. Okay.” If I was lucky, Mark wouldn’t jeopardize his job and will
cite those women for health and safety violations, for which they wouldn’t
get a second shot. After all, Oran was right— they were deliberately and
knowingly ignoring a regulation. If someone choked on that cloud, those
women would be ruined . . . permanently. They’d get sued up the ass by
everyone— the company they worked for, the people they hurt, maybe there
was even a slim chance of criminal charges.
But Oran didn’t have to work there every single day, and just like with
David, if he weren’t around to blame, it’d lay on me.
“This is gonna suck.” Straightening to throw back my shoulders, I took a
few calming breaths to face what was about to happen. When the elevator
stopped again, anxiety curdled my blood and I rolled my head before the
doors slid open a final time.
Narrowed, judging, prying eyes watched me with none-too-discreet
interest as I strode down the aisle. I pushed open the door to the conference
room to find it empty. After I put my presentation away, I held the thick
folder to my chest and braced myself before heading back to my desk.
The floor was eerily quiet, and I dropped my armful on my desk to sit
down and turn on my computer.
“So . . . ” Popping her head over the short barrier between our stations, a
woman not on my team arched a brow quizzically. “How many times did you
have to suck his dick to get him to come in and pull rank for you, May?”
Fucking Jesus Christ.
15

Oran
“You seem pretty interested in this girl, Oran. Interested enough to want to
impress her, at least.” Scowling darkly, I slumped a little deeper into the sofa
while Dr. Laura smiled almost sympathetically. “It’s a good thing you
recognize that your attempt might’ve backfired.”
“May made it pretty damn clear I fucked up.” Scratching my jaw and up
my scalp roughly, I could see the anger flashing in her greenish eyes when I
blinked. When May was happy, her eyes were hazel with flecks of green, but
when she was mad, the inverse. “She said I was trying to control sub drones
because of Kara. It kinda slipped out when we were having dinner. I told
May that Kara died because May sprung on me that she’s a masochist.
Earlier, in the elevator, May basically told me to stop being a power-tripping
asshole.”
“Where did that jab hit you and how hard?” Clenching and releasing my
jaw, I rubbed my lips as they thinned and irritation sloshed against my ribs
under Laura’s scrutiny.
“Hard enough . . . because she’s right. Kara . . . Kara was so . . . empty. I
made her that way. I conditioned her, controlled every aspect of her life, even
if I wasn’t directly making the decisions. Now, I don’t have that. So, May
was right.” Gazing into space, I took off my glasses to be rid of all those
unimportant details of Dr. Laura’s office. “I don’t know what to do about it.”
“You know, Oran, it’s very easy to get you to talk about the issues you
have, but I wonder if you actually acknowledge those issues. Every time you
talk about it, you sound like it’s a boring business meeting or something. So,
since our session is almost over, your homework could be answering why do
you act like your problems aren’t your problems?” My cheek twitched at that
and I straightened to put my glasses back on as Dr. Laura stood up. “You’re a
smart man, Oran. I’m sure you can find an answer.”
“Hopefully.” Hauling myself off the sofa, I straightened my jacket, the
singular reply hanging heavy on my shoulders. Walking out of her office, I
paused in the waiting room at the familiar face that sat in the small lobby.
“Hey . . . Natasha, right?”
 Natasha, Valerie’s sister, lifted her tired, bloodshot eyes to mine and I
frowned under furrowed brows. Predictably, she didn’t recognize me at first,
but that gave me more time to study how damn tired her face was.
“Oh, you’re Carlyle’s brother . . . um, Owen?”
“Oran, yes, I am. Are you alright? You look exhausted, and not the
honeymoon kind.” She smiled and waved in dismissal, her modest ring
flashing under the fluorescent lights. But that wave was far from convincing.
“I heard you got married- congratulations.”
“Yeah, yeah, I just . . . I haven’t been sleeping, so I’m kinda tired. I’m
still balancing out my meds, so yeah, exhausted is a good word. Are you
living here now?” Nodding, I moved to sit in the chair next to her, and
Natasha brightened. “Do you know any great places to eat?”
“How about I take you and your husband to my favorite place? To
celebrate.” Oh, shit. Natasha sniffled as if she was about to start crying and I
tensed as the hairs on the back of my neck bristled. “Ah, are you alright,
Natasha?”
“Erik and I are married, yeah, but he’s not really my husband, I guess.
We’d have to have sex for that, and we haven’t. We probably won’t ever. It
just seemed like the thing to do because, you know, he puts up with me, and I
guess I need him, but I’m pretty sure we’re not in, like, mushy dove love or
whatever.” Natasha just started rambling and discomfort gripped my spine in
a vise as I caught Dr. Laura hovering out of the corner of my eye behind her.
“I don’t think this med combo is working.”
And then, Natasha started crying— deep, heaving, inconsolable sobs.
And that was when I took my leave, but not before letting Laura know to
give Natasha my number. An offer I was now regretting.
My phone gave a shrill ping on the stairs, so I paused to pull my phone
out of my pocket.
May: I’m going to be an ice block before 5
My heart stuttered faintly and my thumbs circled above my screen as I
leaned on the railing to exhale through my nose. Guilt tightened my throat,
and shame followed quickly behind, because, damn, I fucked up bad.
Oran: I apologize.
I mean, what the hell else could I say?
May: I’m not mad hoping they’d warm up to me was just a pipe dream no
harm done that wouldn’t have done itself you just sped it up
“Not a single comma in sight.” My lips quirked up and I shook my head
slightly as my mind churned, searching fruitlessly for a response. May really
was something else— independent and forceful and she didn’t need someone
else to stand up for her.
Oran: I just finished my 11am. On to the next meeting.
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I headed outside to my car and
hopped into the back seat, and the vehicle rolled off the curb. Gazing out the
window, I propped my elbow to hold my chin on my fist as my mind
wandered. Normally, I took a walk after my session with Laura, but today, I
didn’t have the option. My next meeting was with Port Authority, and those
guys were assholes because they knew their worth.
I’d rather be doing pretty much anything else.
Dr. Laura’s question circled behind my eyes and I frowned slightly as we
pulled out of the complex. Was that what she thought, that I didn’t think my
problems were my own problems? What did that even mean?
“It’s quite the notion.” I liked Laura. I thought she was an expert in her
field, and I could talk to her about my less than savory activities. The good
doctor was, after all, Carlyle’s employee, and anything she could possibly say
would endanger her life. She handled the threat well, kept to herself, and had
her private practice to cover for her.
“I think I’m handling things fairly well.” Although, that could just be an
illusion. I did do something stupid earlier with absolutely no second thought.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I unlocked the device to shoot May a
simple message.
Oran: Friday at 7?
She started replying immediately, an easy ‘sure’, and I clenched and
released my jaw as some of the tension eased off my shoulders. Turning my
mind to the issue at hand, I shoved Laura out of my thoughts to focus on
business. I had one goal with this meeting with Port Authority— keep them
happy by increasing their percentage. My operations required a good
relationship. Both the legal and less than legal endeavors started and ended in
Seattle Harbor.
Of course, shipping guns, explosives, hostages, and whatever other
horrors those sickos come up with wasn’t exactly something I could share
openly. Money was still money, and Port Authority didn’t take a second look
at a good deal.
My phone gave a shrill cry for attention, and I glanced down through
narrowed eyes.
 Malory: Port Authority official is here. ETA?
“Jesus, it’s not even quarter past noon. Our appointment isn’t until one.”
Grumbling in disdain, I shot Malory a reply before rolling my eyes at the gall
of whoever the Authority sent. Rubbing my jaw and neck, a huff of a sigh
escaped me as irritation flooded my lungs, and I was still twenty minutes
from my office.
16

May
“Sarah, what the hell is this?” I dropped my purse on the floor as all the
energy rushed out of my entire body and Sarah glanced up from the kitchen
sink. There was blood and feathers everywhere, and she wore my cooking
apron to cover her clothes.
“I saw it in the park earlier and thought, how cool would it be to have a
real bird skull?” She spoke like butchering a bird in the kitchen sink was an
obvious route to go, and I couldn’t even think to breathe let alone form a
response. My sister frowned at my silence, then turned to me fully to
showcase the cleaning gloves I kept under the sink. “I’m being safe about it
— I have gloves on.”
“O-okay. I . . . I’ll just . . . leave you to it. Make sure to clean up after
yourself.” Sarah nodded and turned back to the sink, and I sluggishly reached
for my purse. The stress of the past two days smacked me in the face and my
shoulders slumped as I shuffled heavily out of my apartment. The sun
warmed my crown as I stood on the small risen step to stare blankly at a
crack in the pathway.
Digging my phone out of my purse, the world moved around me, not the
other way around, as my thumbs struggled to tap the screen hard enough to
work. Inhaling a shallow, shaky breath, I held my phone to my ear in a
clammy palm and my teeth damn near chattered. I wasn’t tense. I wasn’t
upset. I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to feel.
“Couldn’t wait until Friday?” Oran’s sultry voice barely registered in my
head, and my mouth dried as my brain stopped working. “Hello? May?”
“My sister is dissecting a dead bird in the kitchen sink.” Oh, God, that
was not a sentence I’d ever thought I’d say. Stunned silence met my
declaration. Licking my lips heavily as a confused crease formed between my
brows, I opened my mouth to force my tongue to work. “Can you come pick
me up?”
“Of course. The car should be there in fifteen minutes or so. Uh, so why,
exactly, is your sister dissecting a dead bird in the sink?” Somewhere,
somehow, I realized he’d put me on speaker and his voice muffled ever so
slightly as he posed his question. “Where’d she get a dead bird?”
“She thought it was a good idea. I d—” My phone beeped, and I pulled it
from my ear to stare blearily at the caller I.D. “One sec. This is my mom.”
Switching over to my mom, I took a massive breath that did nothing to
fill the emptiness in my chest, and my mom was already talking before I
lifted the phone to my ear. And she just kept talking even though I didn’t
understand what she was saying. I was just too frazzled by the fact Sarah was
. . . cutting up . . . a bird . . . in my sink.
“M-Mom, okay, shut up for a second. Why are you calling me?” At the
very least, I knew why my mom wasn’t calling me— she never even asked
about Sarah these past few months. “I’m on another call, so if it’s not
important, I’m going to hang up.”
“I was just calling to chat. I wanted to know how your week went so far.”
“Um, yeah, I’ll call you later. I’m kinda dealing with something right
now. Okay? Bye.” Transferring the call back to Oran, I opened my mouth
and nothing came out, so I cleared my throat roughly. “So, yeah, I have no
idea what’s going on anymore and . . . I need a damn break. I’m so stressed
out. I need to move. I can never cook in that kitchen again.”
“I don’t blame you, May. Have you eaten yet?” Shaking my head even
though he couldn’t see me, I rolled my lips between my teeth, and Oran
sighed heavily. “Do you want me to order you some pizza or something?”
“Yes, please.” Raking my hand viciously though my hair, I sucked in a
whistle of a breath and blinked hard. “Did I really just walk in on that?”
“I don’t know— I wasn’t there. Why would Sarah think it’d be a good
idea to do this?” Glancing warily over my shoulder, I heaved a massive sigh
as I pinched the bridge of my nose. Finally, my brain puttered into action, and
Oran was patient on the line as I furiously organized my thoughts. What more
could I say? The issue was fairly straightforward.
“Sarah doesn’t have great impulse control, and this isn’t the first time
she’s done something so . . . out of the box. One time, when she was little,
she got as many caterpillar egg sacks as she could and left them under her
bed until they all hatched at once.” That story was definitely one of the more
innocuous ones. I rubbed my forehead with the butt of my palm. “I can’t deal
with this right now. I’m frostbitten from work, and I wanted to go home and
sleep, and—”
“I’m not sure there’s anything else you can do in this kind of situation, to
be honest . . . ” Trailing off, Oran clearly didn’t know what to say. I didn’t
know what to say. I just didn’t want to hang up because . . . what the hell,
man? “Work was rough today?”
“Yeah. I mean, at least everyone is full-on ignoring me now instead of
openly talking shit like they were on Tuesday. You know, I know you feel
really bad about it, Oran, but I was only hanging onto this job because David
promised me that promotion. Both teams I’ve been with obviously don’t care
about my contributions or my skills or even teaching me a few things to help
me improve. So, I’ve been thinking about it, and you might’ve actually done
me a favor. I’ve decided to start looking for a new job at a new nautical
firm.” I could hear it in his voice that he felt bad about my work environment,
and I’d been mad . . . at first.
But it wasn’t like Oran made that animosity pop up out of nowhere.
“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” His wry tone made me
pause as I sat down on the step to hold my purse in my lap and frown at the
pathway stretching out to the street. “It’s okay if you are, but it’s not
working, frankly.”
My lips thinned as memories rushed behind my lids when I blinked.
David wasn’t that great a boss. As a matter of fact, the firm itself wasn’t all
that great of an atmosphere for someone like me, just out of college and all
that typical crap. I had done my research when job searching the first time,
and this firm didn’t have the best reputation.
How lucky could I expect to be, getting a job at a great firm, though?
Even though the past two years were basically for nothing, I chose this
particular job at this particular place because I knew it wasn’t all that. I
wanted to start out half-cocked and work my way up. I didn’t want a great
work environment to stop me from taking an advanced position somewhere
else.
“I’d hazard a guess that’s why David was stringing me along with the
promotion in the first place— so I wouldn’t try to find a new job with better
people and he could keep stealing my work while I held out hope. This isn’t
the first time in these past two years I’ve considered finding a new job, and
really, the only thing you did was hasten the inevitable. The gossip being
spread about me at the office was already pretty bad. Why not make it worse
by adding sleeping with the boss to that list?” My brows furrowed at my own
mini-tirade and I absently tugged at the ends of my hair. “I mean, as much as
it sucks, you gotta remember also that my co-workers are investing real time
and energy into speculating about me. That’s kinda funny, when you think
about it.”
“Well, if people are talking about it, we might as well do it.” Smirking
lightly, I sat back a little to tear my eyes off the sidewalk, and the sky above
me brightened as the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. “Seriously, though,
if you’re looking for a new job, I may be able to help with it.”
“Okay, Oran, no offense, but you’re not associated with me
professionally, so a recommendation letter isn’t going to do anything.” A car
pulled up to my apartment building and I frowned under furrowed brows.
Had we really been talking that long? I stood up to head for the sleek, black
vehicle.
“Actually, I have been doing a little research myself, surprise, surprise.”
Shutting myself in the back seat, I set my purse next to me and grunted softly
in acknowledgment as I buckled. “I’d like to talk about it with you another
time, once I have a bit more concrete information.”
“Sure, yeah, okay. I haven’t really started looking yet, so you have time. I
highly, highly doubt I’ll get a good recommendation letter from Jerry, and
certainly not David. He can’t get a job. I heard Jerry huffing because David is
moving across the country because he can’t get a job.”
“Well, I doubt he’ll find employment there, either, if those people do their
due diligence.” Nodding as the car pulled away from the curb, I glanced
dubiously out the window at my first-floor apartment. What was I going to do
about Sarah? I legitimately couldn’t handle her— not now, with my job in
jeopardy.
“Hey, Oran, do you think I’m a bad sister?” The sudden change of subject
led to silence and my mouth dried at the very limited actions I could take. I
could send Sarah back to our parents, but she’d get kicked out if my mom
backed up her threat. I could put her in her own place, though I’d have to
move in right next to her. It’d be less than preferable.
I didn’t want to stir the pot because I didn’t want her getting arrested or
something for being stupid.
“I think you’re a great sister, May. You’re not Sarah’s mother. If you
really feel that overwhelmed, you should sue them. Get their attention. Show
them you mean business.” I guess I could do that. Gnawing on my bottom lip,
I closed my eyes to heave a sigh through my nose. “I’ll supply you Landry.
He’s a very good lawyer. He may not have much information about family
court, but as you’ve experienced, he’s very good at covering up that fact.”
17

May
“You have a really nice place.” Craning my neck to gaze around at Oran’s
surprisingly modest apartment, my brows rose in surprise. “It’s smaller than
the movies made me think a billionaire bachelor would have.”
“Why would I want all that space on the top floor to remind me how
alone I am and how unlikely it is someone would climb that steeply for me?”
I turned as he shrugged, like what he’d just said was normal, and my heart
twisted. Oran’s place wasn’t barely furnished, like most movies portrayed,
and he gestured me to sit on the sofa. The sleek, modern interior design fit the
apartment— the living room, at least. He dropped heavily next to me and
gingerly propped his bare feet on the glass coffee table. “A bird has never
been in this place, though. That’s good enough right now. Did you see what
kind of bird it was?”
“No, but if she got it in the park, it’s probably a pigeon or a crow or it
could even be a seagull. I really didn’t stick around to look. I saw the blood
and the feathers and . . . no . . . just no.” Shivering as goosebumps washed
over my body under my clothes, I leaned forward to set my purse on the
table, then Oran slung his arm over my shoulders when I sat back. Closing
my eyes, I took a huge, stabilizing breath and sunk into the sofa while
disbelief tickled the edges of my scope of comprehension. “I can’t believe
that happened. I can’t believe she did that. Who looks at a dead bird and
wants to bring it home and chop off its head as a keepsake? That’s part of her
condition— she gets an idea and doesn’t think why she shouldn’t do it.”
“Did you ever consider sending her to a private school?” Snorting
roughly, I shot Oran a ‘duh’ look and he arched a brow quizzically. “What?”
“I don’t have the money for a private school, Oran. Even if I did, I don’t
know if I could even get her to go. She had such a horrible time— high
schoolers are vicious, and Sarah talks without thinking and is really awkward,
and she offends a lot of people without meaning to. I pulled her out because
she got punched for telling a girl her skirt, which definitely didn’t cover
anything, made her look like a slut. This was in November, and Sarah has
refused to go back.”
 “Ah, right. I don’t have a lot of experience with sisters. I only have
brothers.” Oran absently twirled a lock of my hair around his finger, and I
leaned my head on his chest to feel his heart beating steady and strong. “On a
somewhat different topic, I apologize for bringing Kara up the other day. I
shouldn’t have thrown her in your face. And you were right— I was the one
making it into something it wasn’t.”
“What was she like?” Posing the question cautiously, I knew I was
treading on thin ice. Oran inhaled deeply against my cheek. “You don’t have
to talk about her if you don’t want to.”
“No, no, Kara was . . . she was really . . . quiet. You two are polar
opposites. She was quiet, and she faded easily into the background. She
actually . . . at the time, she’d been married to a cop who liked using her as a
punching bag.” My heart throbbed painfully in my chest at the admission,
and Oran’s voice went a little deadpanned as he exhaled. Warmth flowed
down the back of my neck and I closed my eyes to focus on everything I
couldn’t see. “At the time, I was really not an okay guy. I felt cheated in life,
like everyone owed me and my potential. I hated my brother and my father
because I felt like I could do better than them. Kara and I were roommates,
basically, but a lot deeper, if that makes sense. Most of the time, she had no
opinion. She was just glad to be safe from that dick.
“I realized she was always alone, so I hired her two best friends. As
fucked up as that sounds now, it was a good decision at the time. For a couple
of years, everything was going great and the three of them got along really
well, beyond just being paid to hang out together. But I got involved with a
girl and didn’t realize her true intentions. Kara told me she didn’t like this
new girl, that something about her made her uneasy, and that I should cut her
off. I thought I couldn’t make a bad decision, and I couldn’t possibly be
wrong.” Venom dribbled from his tongue at that and I held my breath as he
tangled his fingers in my hair loosely. Oran’s chest warmed under his shirt, as
if the notion of it still made him so ashamed and angry, and he pursed his lips
against my crown. “Kara was right— that bitch was rotten, but I refused to
think I could make a mistake. Kara, Erin, and Emily died as a result. It’s
something I can never forgive myself for.”
“What happened to the other girl?” He inhaled deeply, sharply, lifting his
head to stare at the ceiling. I glanced up to watch his jaw work. The muscles
in his neck flexed, and I licked my lips heavily as the silence stretched into
discomfort.
 “I beat Roquelle to death.” Tensing as an impossibly loud alarm rang in
my head, I pulled back just as Oran tilted his head down and his dark,
guarded eyes met mine. “Do you want to leave?”
“Y-you just willingly . . . admit . . . you really did that? And you just tell
me?” I stammered a little in my shock, and Oran’s jaw tightened as he
clenched his teeth together. “You know you can go to prison—”
“Do you want to leave, May?” Cutting me off, Oran’s expression became
stony as my chin threatened to pierce a hole in my sternum. “You can. I
won’t stop you. I told you because you asked, but as much emphasis as I put
on my own wrongdoings, Roquelle actively caused Kara’s death just as much
as I did by being ignorant and egotistical.”
“I-I don’t know.” I realized in that moment I definitely should leave, but I
just couldn’t make my body move. If this Roquelle chick really caused
Kara’s death . . . Tearing my eyes away from Oran, I pulled my knees up to
my chin and rubbed my face with my hands before wrapping them around my
legs. “I don’t know.”
“If someone killed your sister, what would be enough for you?” Sucking
in a sharp breath, I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head as the leather
seat of the semi-circular sofa creaked loudly. “Roquelle knew who I was. Her
intent was malicious. It might not be a justification, but she planned to fuck
me over, and Kara got in the way.”
“I hope I never have to figure out what would be enough for me, Oran.”
My heart stuttered at the notion that Oran was right, though— if someone
came into Sarah’s life to hurt her and managed to do so, nothing would be
enough. I’d fucking lose it. Life in prison wouldn’t be enough. I couldn’t say
for sure that I wouldn’t do the same thing, and that was what was so scary. If
it happened to me, wouldn’t I take matters into my own hands, even if it
didn’t go as far as he had?
Before I could open my mouth, Oran’s phone started to ring and buzz
against the coffee tabletop, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
For a second, he didn’t move, and I wondered if he was just going to ignore it
before he reached forward and snatched the device. Cracking open my eyes, I
hid my frown behind my knees as my mind churned a mile a minute.
“Hello?” Sour surprise rose his brows and he glanced at me before
holding up a finger in wait. “Natasha, what’s up? How are you feeling? I am
busy, yes. I don’t think right now is a good t—”
Oran cut off, holding the phone out with confusion glistening in his eyes,
and he absently pushed his glasses up above his frown. Setting his phone on
the coffee table again, he half turned to me to prop his elbow on the back of
the sofa, and I gulped down the dense lump in my throat.
“I’ll give that to you, Oran. I don’t know what I would do in that
situation. But I . . . I mean—” His cell phone buzzed and trilled again, and
Oran breathed fire through flared nostrils as he grabbed the thing only to
pause when he looked at the caller I.D.
“I have to take this. It’s work. You know, the pizza’s not here yet, and
you obviously can’t go home, May, so just hang out here. Poke around if it
makes you feel better. Eat. I’ll text you.” Standing up as he spoke, Oran
didn’t even give me the chance to open my mouth before he walked to the
front door of his apartment. Pausing as he answered the call, he turned to me
briefly to nod. “The pizza’s paid for. It should be here any minute.”
18

Oran
“Carlyle . . . ” Standing on the sidewalk, I ran my free hand through my hair
roughly, and awkwardness burrowed deep into my chest. “What’s up?”
“It’s been a while, Oran. How are you doing? How’s Seattle treating
you?” Briefly covering my frown with the back of my hand, I took off my
glasses as I sat down on the stoop of my apartment. To be honest, it was more
like a triplex, but . . . shaking my head at the distraction, I took a breath as
anxiety curdled my blood.
“I’m okay. I’m doing alright. Actually, I just saw Natasha the other day at
Dr. Laura’s. That was a pleasant surprise. Did Candice get back to you, yet?”
I didn’t really want to believe Carlyle was calling me just to check on me,
and I clenched my teeth hard. “I haven’t heard from her in a few days,
myself.”
“I did. She’s still combing through the information Jerry sent her, but I
find it hard to believe Diamon’s plan would be so damn obvious.” Pausing as
a car swerved to park in front of my place, I shuffled as the pizza guy
emerged with his bag. Gesturing at my door absently, I waited until he strode
past me before speaking up.
“Carlyle, I don’t want to be paranoid, but who the hell is so stupid?”
“Well, according to Candice, they’re really that stupid. From her report,
taking a boat down the river was a good idea, and the event went off without
much fuss, but the downside to that is we’re no closer to finding out why
we’re being bombarded.” I cupped my chin and Carlyle hummed as the line
crackled. “Of course, there’s always the nuisance value of it, and maybe
there’s no ‘why’ or plan. Maybe Diamon is just taking shots into the dark.”
“That’s a lot of ‘maybes’, but they’re all plausible. From what I know
from working under Dad, ever since the old man started to lose his mind,
things for them have gone downhill fast.” Carlyle was great at the big picture.
I sat back a little to inhale the lingering scent of pizza. The guy swept past me
onto the sidewalk and I turned to find May staring at me from the open
doorway. “So, let me know if you need anything, but I have to go.”
“I will. And Oran?” Standing up only to pause, I frowned when Carlyle
hesitated, and my chest tightened as blood drummed in my ears. “I hope
you’re doing okay.”
“Me too. I’ll talk to you later.” Climbing the few steps to the walkway
between the U-shaped building, I slid my phone in my pocket and trained my
gaze on May. Holding the two medium pizzas, she leaned against the door
frame with a confused expression on her face. “What?”
“Were you just going to sit out here until I let you back in?” Nodding, I
stuffed my hands in my pockets with a slight shrug, and May frowned as her
eyes flashed hazel. “Why?”
“What does that mean— why? I thought you’d want the space considering
what I just heaped on you, May. It was just good timing, I thought, that I had
that phone call.” May licked her lips nervously, but I had no idea what else I
was supposed to say. “I’ll have a car come pick you up if you want to leave.”
“Where am I supposed to go? I mean, Sarah’s elbow deep in a dead bird
right now, so I can’t go home.” But you don’t want to stay here. The
unspoken words hung heavily between us, and I held her gaze as the anxiety
flooding my system intensified. For a long moment, May just stared, and my
heart beat harder and harder until she turned to retreat into my apartment. My
cheek twitched when she left the door open and I silently debated my options
before following her.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to take that.” Perching herself on the
sofa, May set the boxes on the coffee table, and I stood by the arm rest as she
sighed heavily. “Today has just been a rollercoaster of things I’d never
thought I’d see or hear.”
“Does it make you nervous, knowing?” The probe made her still and I
inhaled a shallow breath as May busied herself with opening the top box.
“May, you don’t owe me anything. I know I haven’t exactly been a divine
blessing on your life. It’s entirely understandable if you’re too fed up with
me.”
“I just . . . this is not what I imagined I’d learn when I called you, okay. I
wish I hadn’t asked about Kara. I’m not gonna make that mistake again.” I
rolled my jaw at that and my legs stiffened as I sat on the arm rest of the sofa.
Holding her forehead in her palms, May blew out a breath, and I frowned
darkly as an ugliness spread across my chest. “Right now, I just want to eat
and sleep. And, like, throw up at the idea of what catastrophe is going on at
my apartment right now. Let’s talk about something else. Who was that girl
who called you just before? Did you have plans?”
 “Who, Natasha? She’s my brother’s girlfriend’s sister, and she’s an even
more rough subject to talk about. I would not suggest barking up that tree.”
May shot me the most withering glare imaginable and my mouth dried as I
held up my hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I haven’t spent any time
with her, but, as I said, she’s my brother’s girlfriend’s sister, so we know of
each other. She’s also married, so don’t get any ideas that I’m interested in
her.”
“I never said you were interested in her. Why would being married mean
she’s unavailable? People cheat all the time.” May was itching for a fight,
about everything, about anything, and I frowned under furrowed brows.
There were a few reasons she was wrong, but I sure as fuck wasn’t going to
tell her anything about Natasha right now. Carefully picking up a slice of
pepperoni, she huffed as I struggled to find an appropriate response.
“Why would I be interested in her when I’m interested in you?” That
sounds alright, right? May froze, mouth open, pizza poised, and I committed
the picture to memory before she tilted her head at me. “Trust me, May. Even
if I was, she’s not capable of cheating. Do you have so little faith in
relationships? Did someone cheat on you in the past?”
“Yeah. It happened in college. Who would’ve thought a liberal arts major
had the spine, huh?” My brows rose at that and May stuffed the tip of her
slice in her mouth with a soft groan. “This is so good.”
“So, you have a sister for a daughter, a job you hate, a guy you can’t
make up your mind about, and parents who don’t give a shit.”
“Don’t forget a dead bird in my sink.” Mumbling around her mouthful,
May scrunched up her face in disgust, and I nodded firmly. Amusement
clung to my ribs like tar while she took another big bite and hummed in
satisfaction.
“Of course not. I’m just saying I understand your cynicism about
everything, but if I wasn’t interested in you, I sure as shit wouldn’t go after
someone as unstable as Natasha. And even if I tried, she’s not staying in
Seattle. She’s just here to help get herself on a good med combination.”
“Oh-h-h . . . so it’s just an availability concern. It’s a good thing I live
fifteen minutes away.” Cocking my head, I frowned as my eyes narrowed
into slits, and May glared weakly at me in challenge.
“Don’t do this, May. You’re going to regret it.” I didn’t get it— I was
trying to help her and she was picking a fight. I could’ve just stayed outside if
May was going to be a bitch. Her glare didn’t drop before I sighed heavily.
“May, please drop it. This is not a conversation you want to continue. Just eat
your pizza and I’ll turn on the TV and grab you some wine. Sound good?”
“Don’t try to placate me. I’m allowed to be miserable right now.” Pursing
my lips thinly, I kept my mouth shut, and she took another bite before I
wandered into the kitchen.
Rubbing my neck and rolling my shoulders, a frown plastered on my face
as I pulled open the stainless-steel refrigerator. May was having a terrible day
and I’d made it worse by adding that confession. I can’t be too upset.
19

May
“I’m sorry, Oran.” Stroking my face and neck absently, Oran hummed softly
as he tore his eyes away from the television, and I rolled onto my back on the
sofa. “I didn’t mean it earlier. Today just sucked overall, and I took it out on
you.”
“I shouldn’t have told you about Kara. I wanted to get it out there because
I thought it was important for you to know where I’m coming from. There are
definitely better times than right now.” The hairs on his knuckles tickled my
jaw, and his thigh under my head was warm and firm, the same as his eyes
when he looked down. “I apologize, too.”
“My ex cheated on me with a four, so . . . ” Oran’s brows twitched in
interest and I licked my lips heavily as I rolled back onto my side. Staring
blankly at the television, I blustered a sigh as the huge, alcohol-fueled blur
that was my college years flashed behind my lids when I blinked. “We were
together for, like, a year and he screwed this girl on the regular. For some
reason, I never found out. I mean, I’m definitely better looking, and I know
she’s working at McDonald’s because she got kicked out for bad grades. And
she lives with her parents.”
“Seems like everyone is just plain stupid. Lucky for me, though.” We
were watching a cop drama of some kind and Oran combed his fingers
through my hair as that familiar business lilt colored his tone. “I can’t decide
if I have a very stupid competitor or if whatever shady shit he’s doing is too
sophisticated for me to see.”
“He’s probably stupid. Anyone who messes with you is stupid, Oran.” I
don’t know why I said that, but he seemed to appreciate it as he scratched my
scalp gently. The half bottle of wine I’d drank made my brain swing, and the
whole medium pizza I’d ravenously devoured made me feel heavy.
Pleasantness tinged my bleary vision pink, and I liked the calm and the
intimacy and the lack of expectation.
“I haven’t been doing this very long, only a year or so, but I like it. My
brother might be king of the world, but I like my little province that I rule
over.” Humming softly as Oran’s warm, muscular palm covered my face, I
closed my eyes again to puff a sigh. “Carlyle is definitely the kind of guy
who’ll drop your ass and forget about you like you never existed. He’s got an
iron will, and no one can bend it, except maybe his girlfriend, but what I
know of her suggests she just doesn’t care. Me, I’ve always been second, but
I realized after Kara’s death that I don’t want to be the head honcho. It’s
really not that great a gig.”
“So, the shipping stuff is just, like, a branch of the family bizz?”
“Yes. Shipping, round the world construction of all kinds, tech— we do it
all. His girlfriend makes game apps under a startup he made for her. Last
year, my dad stepped down and handed it all to Carlyle, and I remember
being so angry and feeling so cheated. It’s kind of funny now, how ignorant I
was. It’s a shame someone had to die to make me see exactly how ignorant.”
He inhaled deeply and I glided my palm up to rub his thigh as sadness lilted
his tone. “I have a younger brother, too. Mateo. He’s twenty-four, younger
than you, May, and he doesn’t really get it. My friend once said Mateo’s got
a really bad case of rich kid syndrome. I thought that was an appropriate
description.”
“Mmm. My parents have five kids total. I’m the second oldest. My sister,
Lorraine, is on deployment somewhere in the Middle East .” If Oran was
surprised, he didn’t tense, and I licked my lips heavily as he caressed under
my chin. “Then there’s me, then Darren, who’s twenty-one, and Sarah, and
Trent, who’s fourteen. That’s why it makes me so mad the way our parents
treat her. It’s not like it’s just me and her, and they treat Trent just fine.”
“You’ve only ever mentioned Sarah, so it did seem to me like it was just
the two of you.” Even the subject, which admittedly, I brought up, couldn’t
dampen my mood, and I nodded against Oran’s upper thigh absently. “I guess
she is your biggest problem considering the circumstances. Your mother
called you earlier, you said. What did she want?”
“To chat. That’s it. I didn’t even tell her what was going on because she’d
act like I was telling her a story about one of my friends, not her daughter.
It’s really starting to piss me off.” Calloused fingertips circled down my neck
and over my shoulder, and my face heated at the reminder. My mom . . . how
could she just stop caring about Sarah? If it wasn’t sudden, did that mean that
Mom hated Sarah, and if so, for how long? Since her diagnosis? Since
puberty? When? I had no answers. I sucked in a deep, calming breath as Oran
trailed his hand down my side. “If she took Sarah’s borderline diagnosis so
bad, I wonder what she’d think of me.”
 “I don’t know. My dad is a sociopath, but I have very little experience
with moms.” The way he said that word just sounded awkward and sluggish. I
rolled onto my back to open my eyes as he cast me a frown. “My mother died
a very long time ago, so long that I don’t remember her at all.”
“Is that why you were so mad about Kara that you . . . ” Trailing off
suggestively, I didn’t really know what to feel when Oran shrugged, his
nostrils flaring as he exhaled a shallow breath. “Now that I’m tipsy, you
know, I kinda get it. If someone betrayed me and caused the death of
someone so important to me, I’d probably beat that person up too. Regardless
of whether that person died, if I was rich and successful and influential and
could get away with it . . . if there were no consequences legally, I’d
definitely do it, too.”
“You’re quite the firecracker, May.” His lips quirked up, his eyes
shimmering as he caressed my cheek, and the hairs on his knuckles tickled
my skin again. My heartbeat slowed and I reached a heavy hand to cup
Oran’s sharp jaw. Turning his face into my palm, he kissed the inside of my
wrist and goosebumps swept down my arm even though his eyes never
wavered from mine. “I don’t want to ruin this moment. We’re having dinner
tomorrow night, anyway.”
“Me either.” Oran cast me a tender smile and blood drummed faintly in
my ears as he pressed his palm flat against my sternum. “I told Sarah
yesterday that I wasn’t going to be home Friday night, but that’s part of her
issues— impulsiveness. It would’ve been nice if she didn’t butcher a bird in
my sink until tomorrow. Maybe I’d never know about it.”
“If you want, I can give you a number for a great cleaning service. I’ve
used them before.” The offer was touching, and I nodded before turning back
on my side to gaze through the TV. “Are you tired, May?”
“I’m tipsy and full of pizza.” The answer was pretty obvious, and Oran
chuckled lowly before nudging me off him. Groaning in protest, I curled up
when his warmth seeped into the sofa’s leather cushions, but powerful, lean
arms scooped me up. Oran held me up so easily, and his muscles flexed
against me as he rounded the sofa and walked up the stairs. His place had a
kitchen and living room on the ground floor, but the stairs led to a loft. The
place had four rooms total, which would’ve surprised me.
I watched too much rich people TV.
“Here.” Gingerly laying me on his bed, Oran deftly unbuttoned my flowy,
dark green work shirt, and I resisted the urge to just roll over and pass out.
“Comfortable, huh? It’s a Purple mattress, and if there’s one thing you
shouldn’t cut corners on, it’s a bed.”
“I’m never leaving it.” God, this mattress was soft, the sheets were soft,
the blanket was soft. My declaration slurred heavily and Oran’s smile
warmed my chest as he unfastened the front clasp of my bra. Hoovering up a
huge breath at the sudden release, I rolled over to arch sharply and he
expertly divested me of my clothes. Taking off my straight-leg pants, he
didn’t even try to get frisky. It wouldn’t have done anything, anyway. The
alcohol in my blood, the atmosphere of intimacy, there was no room for
anything else, so he crawled into bed behind me.
Oran spooned me so perfectly, working his arm under my cheek while his
other hand crept to grope my bare breast. His hot, rigidly defined chest cut
against my back, and he nudged his knee between my legs to grumble low in
my ear.
Things couldn’t get better than this moment.
20

May
Oran was inked. There was no bare spot on his arms, and barely on his torso,
his shoulders, his neck. Everywhere I looked, there was a tattoo. A gorgeous
third spider sat on his shoulder, and I leaned down to trail my nose between
defined pectoral muscles. The words scrawled on his side were in a language
I couldn’t read, but if I had to guess, it wasn’t from the Bible.
My mouth watered as the smell of him became musky and thick, and I
kissed down Oran’s abs one at a time. His skin twitched against my lips, and
I shuffled down under the sheet as his thick happy trail tickled my chin. Even
under the thin sheet, I could tell his tattoos stopped at the waist, and my
fingers itched with eagerness as they hooked under the waistband of his loose
boxers.
Heat flooded my veins, and desire sung in my ears while I rolled down
the fabric. The head of Oran’s cock was a perfect mushroom, and I licked my
lips hungrily as a wave of appreciation slammed into my abdomen. He wasn’t
awake yet but he shuffled slightly, and the back of his boxers rolled down to
reveal him in his entire, hard glory.
Saliva pooled under my tongue even as it snuck out, and I licked up the
length of his shaft from the base. Under me, Oran tensed, sucking in a sharp
breath, and his palm flew to my crown outside the sheet. He was definitely
awake now. I pumped his cock with greedy fingers before sucking the head
between my lips.
“Fucking shit.” His taste coated my tongue, dark and heady and delicious,
and I took him deeper as his groan rang in my ears. My palms glided up
Oran’s chest to feel the power rippling through him, and I gagged slightly
when his head bumped against the roof of my mouth. Pulling the sheet off
me, he wasted no time fisting my hair, and I arched sharply to take him all
the way down my throat. The choked gasp he gave me sent tingles down my
spine, and I opened my mouth wide, but he was big.
Oran let me explore his cock with my tongue, and I glanced up when I
pulled back to catch the lazy pleasure beaming from his eyes. Licking the
length of him, the tip of my tongue followed the vein, and he tensed as his
feet flexed against mine. Taking a breath, I took him down my throat slowly,
savoring each inch, and I grazed my teeth just under the ridge of his head. His
groan flooded me with a fog, and he pushed down on my head gently but
insistently.
“May . . . ” Whispering my name with such reverence sent a rush through
my chest, and I doubled down to gulp down around his head. Oran gasped,
his fists tightening against my scalp, and my abdomen clenched as I set a
slow, deep pace. The smoothness of his shaft eased along my tongue and I
gagged loudly when his tight curls tickled my nose.
When I pulled back, Oran tugged on my hair, but I ignored it to lavish his
shaft with my lips. Need balled in my belly, but I really just wanted him in
my mouth, choking me, hearing his pleasure as it rumbled from his chest like
thunder. He gave up, pushing my head down and his hips up, and tiny tears
welled in my eyes when his cock curved down my throat.
Ducking and arching as Oran tilted his hips to my savoring beat, the fine
hairs on my back stood up when a saltiness swarmed my taste buds. His cock
throbbed against my tongue, and I hallowed my cheeks as I glanced up to
lock eyes with him. In this moment, he was so, so beautiful. He cocked his
head as his abs played at the bottom edge of my vision. When I blinked, the
water collecting on my lashes streamed down my nose, and his pupils
narrowed into slits but didn’t waver from mine.
Pain was the ultimate pleasure, but sometimes I just wanted to do it
normally. Every so often, I got the urge. Every once in a while, just the
pleasure was enough for me.
“You taste good.” The rasp in my tone made Oran tense, his cock
twitching against my lips, and I panted lightly as my heart went wild. With an
ease that turned me on more than it should’ve, Oran sat up to shuffle onto his
knees, and I groaned softly in anticipation. Excitement flooded my veins, and
he adjusted his hands buried in my hair to pull taut. Red tinged his face, his
hair sticking every which way, and I braced my palms against the mattress in
preparation.
There was something wonderful about surrendering, and I let go of all the
extra feelings— the sheets against my feet, the mattress stressing against my
knees— as I opened my mouth wide. Oran let me take a shallow breath
before surging down my throat, and I arched sharply as his pelvis ground
against my chin. He drove deeper, harder, stayed longer, and I gulped and
gagged voraciously as pleasure rippled across my face and down my neck.
 “May-y . . . fuck . . . ” His strained gasp rolled down my back, and he
pulled away only to snap his hips. The head of his cock banged the roof of
my mouth before curving down, and he pushed down on my head to lean
over me. He thrust hard, fast, and I couldn’t do anything when he cupped
under my chin to rough me up. His cock swelled against my tongue, rippling
against my cheeks, the head throbbing wildly as he screwed my brains out of
my ears.
My taste buds shivered furiously, greedily, but Oran pulled back before I
thought to grab his hips. My frustration cut off when he yanked my head up,
and I moaned at the shock that gripped my spine in a vice. Hot, chapped lips
collided with mine, and he wrapped an arm around my waist to practically
throw me onto my back. Blinking hard as the world spun, I shook my head
wildly and he pushed my panties to the side to bury his face between my legs.
Oran’s sharp inhale sucked the heat from my core and I cried out when he
mercilessly pinched my clit. Arching sharply, my thighs clung to his head as
he licked the length of my slit to send sparks of euphoria prickling up my
torso. His tongue parted my folds and he twisted and tugged my sensitive
bead as the coil in my belly became dangerously taut.
“Oh-h, fuck, it hurts . . . ” Sputtering breathlessly, I closed my eyes to
keep them from popping from their sockets, and Oran slithered up my body
to capture my lips in a searing kiss. Grinding against me, his cock buried
between my folds, I tilted my hips eagerly as I grappled his sides. His tongue
danced against mine, the taste of me and him together, mingling, beautiful,
and my palms flew to his jaw to hold him closer.
But that seemed to be just what Oran wanted, and I choked when he
pinched just below my belly button hard. Holding my skin between his
thumb and curled finger, he clamped down when I tensed, tearing my mouth
from his to hiss. The thick ridge of his cock flicked my abused clit and my
eyes rolled back as rapture sloshed against my ribs.
Oran didn’t release me, his grip tightening even as I came, and my knees
clung to his hips as I craned my neck.
“Yeah-h-h . . . ” Growling lowly, Oran ducked to kiss and lick my pulse
point, and I wheezed as shivers invaded every muscle in my body. “You’re a
strange little slut.”
“Oh, God . . . ” He smirked against my neck before kissing down the
valley between my breasts, and I whimpered when his tongue laved the spot
he’d pinched. “Th-that was great.”
 “The wonderful thing about women is it doesn’t stop once you come. I
don’t exactly have that luxury, so I have to pace myself.” He blew on the
stinging, throbbing mark and I sucked in a whistle of a breath between my
teeth. “It sucks. I know.”
Punctuating that declaration by sucking the spot, Oran anchored himself
above me to kiss the corner of my mouth, and I sniffed as I tried to make my
brain work.
“Take a Viagra.” This time, he was the one who choked, and I tensed
when he nibbled my jaw and up to my ear. “I’m serious.”
“I know you are, May. I don’t think it’s fair that you’re already expecting
a short performance, though.” Inhaling a staggering breath, I frowned as I
forced my eyes open, but Oran was smirking when he propped himself on his
arm to gaze down at me. “I don’t think taking a Viagra is a good way to start
this off. Don’t want you to be disappointed without it.”
“I wasn’t disappointed last time.” My confession earned me a chuff of a
laugh, and Oran peeled my hair from my cheek to caress the spot. The
fullness in my chest was slowly seeping into the mattress, and my heart and
breathing started to stabilize as he pursed his lips thinly. His eyes searched
my face for something, but I realized . . .
Oran couldn’t really see me— he didn’t have his glasses on.
“I wasn’t trying to last, last time. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can do
anything.” His smirk widened and I smacked his arm weakly before he rolled
over to sit and stretch his arms above his head. For the first time, I saw
Oran’s bare back and shock jolted my heart.
His entire back was covered, from the nape of his neck to his tail bone, in
a massive, expertly designed centipede. The thing glistened, its legs
stretching to the curve of his ribs. When he moved, it moved, and I sat up to
touch the incredible, 3-D artwork. Just like the spider on his shoulder, this
armored centipede was so real-looking, so life-like, like it could just jump off
him. The bright yellow and fierce red made it look exotic and dangerous, and
it’s body wiggled against his spine when he twisted to glance at me.
“What is this?” Oran rolled his shoulders and the centipede looked like it
was crawling, skittering away from my question.
“I saw King Kong and was inspired by that scene when the chick is hiding
from the dinosaurs inside the log.” The flatness in his tone told me he was
lying, and he didn’t even try to hide it before throwing his legs over the side
of the bed and standing up. “Let’s go shower. I can drop you off at home to
get changed before you have to head to work.”
21

Oran
“May, call me when you get a chance. I have a proposal for you.” Hanging
up the call, I sat back in my chair before Malory cracked open my office door
and poked her head in. “What?”
“Your two o’clock is here.” Meetings. I was stuck in a never-ending loop
of useless, boring meetings. Gesturing her to let her in, I took off my glasses
to rub the lenses with my shirt cuff and ground my teeth to hold back my
sigh. Friday had come and gone, and I hadn’t heard from May. Saturday was
the same. On Sunday, a peculiar gut rot started to chew through me. Usually,
she’d text me if she couldn’t answer the phone, but it’d been three days of
nada.
Of course, I knew Thursday night hadn’t exactly been relaxing. May had
drank herself into complacency. And Friday morning had been interesting,
but . . .
“Mr. Santino.” Pursing my lips to hide my frown, I put my glasses back
on and stood up, and surprise rose my brows. “Wonderful to see you.”
“Frank, what a surprise.” My eyes narrowed on Frank with his ugly
moustache and beady eyes, and I extended my hand to shake his. “To what
do I owe the pleasure?”
Frank and I sat down on opposite sides of my desk and I leaned back to
stare him down. There was absolutely no reason for us to be meeting so soon,
and Candice was supposed to handle him, regardless. He managed my docks,
shipping my more illicit materials, and he should’ve known better than to
come to me.
“I guess it’s not surprising. We only have these meetings once a year. I
have a few things I wanted to discuss with you, personally.” Now, I didn’t
bother to hide my frown, and Frank waved a meaty hand dismissively. “It’s
nothing bad. I—”
Whatever Frank was going to say was cut off by my cell phone ringing
insistently, and I held up a finger as I snatched the device off my desk. May’s
name and number flashed on the screen, and I pushed myself up to walk to
the window where Frank couldn’t hear me. Relief surged through my veins,
and I gazed down at the bustling city below as I swiped the screen.
“May, hey. I’ve been trying to reach you all weekend.” The line cracked
loudly, like she had the phone on speaker and the microphone up against
something. “Hello?”
“I’m here. I’m here. Don’t hang up. Just a sec.” There was a strange
sound in the background, and I leaned on the window frame as expectation
quickly replaced the tension in my shoulders. She must’ve been moving
something pretty heavy because it crashed loudly down what sounded like a
flight of stairs, and my brows furrowed in confusion. “I give up! Fuck! Sarah!
Get your ass out here and clean this up!”
May was clearly pissed as she shouted at her sister, and when she spoke
up again, her voice was crisp, giving me a great earful of how upset she was.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called. Sarah tried to use the garbage disposal on the
bird and my whole apartment flooded while I was at work on Friday. We got
kicked out. I’m sending her back to our parents. I can’t do this anymore.”
May’s tone trembled and lowered with apoplexy, and surprise struck my
chest as I sucked in a sharp, shallow breath. “I’m done. I’m going to fucking
get sued for the damage, I have nowhere to live, and, damnit, Sarah! I said
pick this shit up!”
“Where are you right now?”
“Right now I’m about half a second from whooping your ass. I can’t
believe you. You’re fucking sixteen years old, Sarah. You know better than
to bring home a dead bird, let alone stuff it’s bones into the garbage
disposal!” Not the answer I need. Covering my mouth to hide my scowl as
May screamed at her sister, I held the phone a little ways away from my ear
to avoid going deaf as well as being blind. “Because I didn’t tell you not to
do it? This is my fault because I didn’t tell you not to do it!”
“May!” My harsh snap made the line go quiet, and I glanced over my
shoulder to jut my chin at Frank. He was already getting up, and irritation
drudged through my veins when he left me alone. “Stop talking to her, okay.
Talk to me. What happened?”
“Everything was fine when I went home to get changed, but by the time I
got back at five-thirty, there was three feet of shit and sewage everywhere.
Sarah was out all day. The whole building had to be evacuated. She tried to
use the garbage disposal on the bird she brought home, and when that didn’t
work, she tried to flush it instead of putting it in a few bags and throwing it
out.” Releasing a shaky sigh, May sounded on the verge of crying. I winced
when that sharpness returned to her voice and practically cut my cheek. “At
least I had a great cleaning service number, but the health guy who came by
yesterday said it wasn’t enough. The whole building is unstable because of its
age. The sewage gorged all the supports and—”
“May . . . May, just breathe. Where are you right now? Are you at your
apartment right now?”
“Y-yeah. I’m packing up all the stuff I could save into a truck right now.”
I wondered how much this girl could take before cracking. It was as
impressive as it was disheartening. I grabbed my jacket to walk out of my
office. Frank was chatting up Malory, and she arched a brow as I passed
before I shook my head curtly. Punching the elevator button with my thumb
as the line went quiet, I shuffled my phone to my other ear.
“May? Are you there?” She sniffled, and I ground my teeth together as
my heart thundered against my ribs. “I’m coming to you, alright?”
“I appreciate it, Oran.” The elevator couldn’t come fast enough, and I
stepped inside before the doors opened all the way. “I don’t know what I’m
going to do. I have to foot the bill for the hotel room for the two other tenants
and the house. I’m probably going to get fired even though I called out. I
don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t worry about any of that. Just wait for me, okay? I’m going to
make some calls, alright? Don’t do anything rash, and I’ll be there in less
than half an hour.” May gave a little whimper of acknowledgment, and
reluctance slowed my movements as I hung up. Scrolling through my
contacts, I leaned against the wall on my way down and held my phone to my
ear. The line rang shrilly and a headache sprung behind my eyes as I reached
to pinch the bridge of my nose hard. “Shit. Hey, is Luke available?”
“Who’s calling?” Prattling off my name, I was immediately transferred to
a hold, and I tapped my foot impatiently. If May got mad at me for throwing
my weight around, so be it.
“Mr. Santino, what can I do for you today?”
“I have a job. I’m going to text you an address. Get someone down there
within the hour.” The line went dead just as quickly, and I followed up with
Luke before the elevator stopped, the doors rolling open without so much as a
squeak of protest. Striding through the lobby, I dialed another number as
determination stiffened my legs. “Jerry, I’m texting you an address. Find out
where the tenants are staying. And the landlord.”
“Uh, okay. Give me like twenty minutes. I’ll e-mail you.” Jerry was
Carlyle’s best tech guy. I nodded before hanging up on the way onto the
street. This is going to be one huge clusterfuck of a week.
22

May
“May!” My head whipped up as Oran jogged hastily down the street with
worry creasing between his brows. “Hey, before you get mad, I know you
don’t appreciate it when I throw my name out there, but I thought this was a
special circumstance.”
“What did you do?” Exhaustion slurred my voice, and Oran came to a
stop in front of me just as a work truck pulled up tight behind the moving
truck. “Do I even want to know?”
“Ah, well . . . ” Reaching to rub the back of his neck, Oran developed a
sheepish expression, and as much as I wanted to feel flattered and relieved, I
was just tired. “Anyway, I took off work for the day. Where’s the owner of
the place?”
“He’s been giving me nasty looks from halfway up the stairs all weekend.
They just finished draining all the sewage out, but I had to keep my important
dry stuff up on the landing . . . ” Gesturing behind me, I held my forehead in
my palm as an ache threatened to pop my eyes from their sockets. “Sarah’s
hiding somewhere to avoid the responsibility of carrying stuff down the
stairs. I’m so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Luke, I’m surprised you came yourself.” Glancing up as Oran shook
hands with a guy I didn’t recognize, I rubbed down my face and arched my
back sharply. They seemed pretty friendly, and I stood up as Oran gestured to
me. “May, this is Luke, a contractor working for my brother. He’s the best in
Washington.”
“Thanks for coming out to give me an estimate on how much they’re
going to sue me for damages.” Luke got a funny look on his face as I stuck
out my hand, and I frowned under furrowed brows as we shook hands.
Suspicion gripped my chest and my lips thinned before I cast a shrewd glance
at Oran.
“Uh-h, I’m gonna . . . go inside and find . . . other people.” Luke rushed
into the three-family building and away from the tension. I turned to Oran
fully with a sourness coating my tongue.
“I didn’t do anything stupid, I swear.” He held up his hands in surrender,
and I exhaled sharply through my nose as he started to roll up his sleeves.
“I’ll carry your stuff to the truck.”
“You don’t have to, Oran. Sarah did this, so she needs to carry it all. I’m
just out-stubborning her at this point.” Oran frowned, and I frowned . . . we
both just frowned at each other for a long, tense moment. He finished rolling
up his sleeves, his tattoos on full display, and my eyelid twitched in agitation
when he cocked a brow.
“Let me help you, May. You can be salty about it later, okay?” Brushing
past me, Oran rubbed my crown gingerly and I huffed as I rested my chin on
my knees. “Don’t worry about anything.”
“Oran . . . ” Groaning in foreboding, I couldn’t even think of something
more to say, any questions to ask, and he stepped past me without replying.
My hands shook as I raked them through my hair to clasp the back of my
head, and I ground my forehead against my knees. Guilt clogged my throat,
but exactly how guilty was I supposed to be? This wasn’t my burden. This
wasn’t my responsibility.
My sister wasn’t my burden, and cleaning her messes wasn’t my
responsibility.
Sarah was just . . . my sister. She couldn’t be anything else or our
relationship would shrivel. If it hasn’t deteriorated beyond repair already.
I needed to take care of myself, and Sarah’s thoughtlessness was going to
ruin my life. I had nowhere to live. I had school debt, and now, I’ll have suit
debt I’ll probably never shake. If this cleanup takes any longer, I’ll be out of
a job by Friday.
How could one impulsive decision completely destroy the last four years
of my life? And it wasn’t even my decision!
“Watch your head.” Glancing up as Oran carefully skirted around me, a
big box in his hands, I ducked my head when he took the short step to the
walkway. His arms strained, lean, hard sinew working under inked skin, and
he effortlessly carried the box to the truck and hoisted it into the bed.
“Do you think I’m making a mistake?” Posing the question, I sucked my
bottom lip between my teeth and icy prickles rippled up my sternum. “My
mom threatened to put Sarah in a group home if I bought her back.”
“It’s only a threat until she does it, and let’s be honest, here— she
probably knew you wouldn’t fight her. You’re still Sarah’s legal guardian, so
you can do one of two things.” Wandering over to me and crouching down,
Oran smiled a little viciously, and my breath caught at the bright glint in his
eye. “Number one, you can suck it up and keep shouldering this. Number
two, you’re your sister’s court appointed guardian and that authority
supersedes your mother’s as her birth parent. Sue her for child support.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, Oran.” My bland tone earned
me a frown, and I shook my head slightly as a weight threatened to crush my
shoulders. “I’d get laughed out of the courtroom if I tried to sue my own
mom for my sixteen-year-old sister’s child support.”
“You know, May, you’d be surprised how fucked up your situation truly
is, and how quickly a particular strict judge I happen to be in good standing
with will react in your defense. Not only that, but you have Sarah’s condition
as a card to play, and the fact you have a younger brother still living at home
with no problems.” Reaching to caress my cheek, Oran’s eyes hardened and
narrowed, and my mouth dried in expectation. “A threat is always empty. If
someone has to make the threat, chances are they’re not going to follow
through with it. It’s your own feelings that give a threat substance.”
“I take it you don’t make many threats.” My lips quirked up, and Oran
rocked back on his heels to hum softly. “Would you really do that for me?
Bribe a judge?”
“I wouldn’t need to do anything but get you in front of him, but I would if
I had to. Regardless, May, your life is suffering because of this. You’re not
bad, you’re not selfish, and you’re not betraying anyone. You’re just . . . you.
You can’t be more than that.” Cupping my cheek gingerly, Oran’s palm was
warm and calloused, and I closed my eyes to soak it up. Turning into his
hand, I took a deep breath thick with his smell, and he smiled tenderly when I
cracked open my eyes.
“You better be careful. Otherwise, I might think you’re into me.” He
grumbled lowly at my rasp and I reached to wipe my eyes of their achy sting.
“Thanks, Oran.”
“You’re welcome.” His eyes flickered away from me, above my head,
and I twisted as Luke came bounding down the stairs before hiking up his
jeans roughly. Straightening, Oran cleared his throat, and I followed suit
before Luke leaned heavily on the door frame. Suddenly, the whole world
didn’t reek of shit and dead animal.
“So, I talked to the owner. He’s going to bring by the information we
need by the end of the week. I’ll let you know what I know when I know it,
boss.” I didn’t even want to know what that meant right now. Luke walked to
his truck to hop in and pull off the curb. For a moment, we stood in silence,
and I sniffed a sharp inhale as I rubbed my face roughly. The truck I’d rented
from Home Depot sat, half full of stuff in the bed I’d managed to save, but . .
. I lost almost everything. Anything that wasn’t high enough off the ground
was destroyed.
“I’m going to finish the last boxes and then I’ll drive you to your parents’
house, May. You should find Sarah. Maybe not yell at her this time, yeah?”
Scowling darkly, I made no promises as I stalked into the house, but the guilt
clogging my throat made it impossible to form a whisper, let alone yell. Sarah
just didn’t think about this kind of shit, and it wasn’t her fault. Dead animals
were biodegradable— there was no reason she would’ve thought through
flushing the bird.
Taking the stairs sluggishly, I headed up to the top floor where I
suspected her to be hiding. It wasn’t like my sister could go in her room and
slam the door. The whole place reeked, but I didn’t have the brain power
right now to process it. Sitting on the top step, in front of the landing to the
third-floor apartment, Sarah hugged her knees when she saw me.
“Sarah . . . ” I sat down next to her, leaning back to roll my neck as I
sighed heavily, and she sniffled as tears streamed down her face. “We’re
gonna figure this out, okay? You just . . . you gotta learn from this, alright?
You can’t just do something without really thinking it through, okay?”
She nodded and that forbidden thought popped into my head as I wrapped
an arm around her.
23

Oran
“What if Mom and you get into a fight?” Glancing over as we cruised the
highway out of Seattle and toward the outer boroughs, I flexed my grip on the
wheel tightly. I couldn’t get between May and her mother. I could take care
of everything else, but this was her fight. As much as I just wanted to use
money to solve this issue, it wouldn’t work, and that was a damn big pill to
swallow.
“Sarah, if we fight, then we fight. I’m beyond worrying about Mom’s
opinion right now.” May was really starting to get bitter, resentful. I reached
over the short distance between us to take her hand. Her fingers were cold
and trembling, and she huffed a sigh. It’d take us another twenty minutes to
drive to her parents’ place in Tacoma, and she was nervous, stuck between a
rock and a hard place. “If Mom wants to go there, I’ll fucking go there. I love
you, Sarah, but you’re my sister and I can’t keep this up anymore. I know
you hate Seattle, anyway. So, we’re going to resolve this one way or
another.”
“Do you think she’ll really make me leave?” Sarah sounded so uncertain
and it reminded me of that night in Hansen’s so long ago. Pretty soon, it’d
start getting chilly and the sun would start setting by four p.m. Normally,
Sarah would be worrying about school, not whether she’d be sent to a
juvenile facility because her mother is a heartless bitch.
“I don’t know much about guardianship or anything, May, but I just
realized your mother can’t make that decision, can she? She gave up all her
legal rights to you, so you’d be the one who has to sign everything and make
the decision, right?” Sarah sat up a little straighter, hope blossoming in her
face, and May frowned under deeply knit brows next to me. “I mean, she
could get away with it for a few days until they found out, I’m sure, but . . . ”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” The atmosphere became a smidgen lighter in
the truck, and I nodded firmly as my mind churned over this problem. Sarah
was bored— she didn’t go to school, she didn’t have a job, she took online
classes that made up maybe three hours of her week . . .
The only thing she had was her passion for birds, so I understood how
these issues could pop up.
“I should call my lawyer and have him come just so I have some back-up.
I wish I thought of it a few days ago.” Squeezing her hand, I pursed my lips
thinly at May’s grumble, and she sunk into her seat until her knees pressed
against the dash. “I’m sorry, Oran.”
“It’s perfectly fine, May. If nothing else, you saved me from a day of
back-to-back meetings.” Flicking on my blinker as we passed a Tacoma exit
sign hanging above the highway, I merged into the right lane and touched the
brakes before speaking up again. “We’re going to have to reschedule our
date.”
“I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time when I get fired.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that, but I think we’ll get to it another
time.” She cast me a dubious look, but I kept my eyes on the road as I pressed
the brakes when the ramp became visible. The GPS on her phone spoke up,
but I’d read the directions briefly beforehand, so I knew generally where I
was supposed to go.
Honestly, I hadn’t been to Tacoma yet, but it was a very pretty city from
the highway.
The closer we came to May’s parents’ house in Clyde Hill, the quieter the
cab became, and I was thrown for a serious loop. These houses were
borderline mansions, with expert lawn care, and no cracks anywhere in the
sidewalks. Signs warned of kids at play, and every car we saw was shiny and
new, parked in front of dual-capacity garages.
“Your parents live here?” Disbelief shone in my voice, and May nodded
out of the corner of my eye as a scoff escaped me. “What the hell?”
“They’re very well off. I must’ve forgot to mention that.” Irritation
flooded my veins, but not because May neglected to mention where she grew
up. That didn’t matter.
What pissed me off was the fact Sarah got kicked out of a place like this
and sent to Seattle. These houses were big enough that if they wanted, they
didn’t have to ever see her, but they chose to kick her out on her ass. At
sixteen.
“At least you don’t have any college debt, I guess. Honestly, I never got
the appeal of having a huge house. There’s a thing as too much space.” The
GPS spoke up and I turned into a short, wide driveway in front of an
immaculate home wrapped in baby blue siding. “This the place?”
“Yeah.” I turned off the truck, but neither May nor Sarah made a move to
get out, and I sat back to glance between them. How much this must’ve hurt,
on so many different levels, I’d never understand. After a heavy, hesitant
moment, May moved to unbuckle, and I popped open the door to slide down
onto the asphalt.
A woman who must’ve been her mother stepped out of the house, and I
helped May down before Sarah came awkwardly scooting across the cabin. I
didn’t know what to expect and anxiety buzzed behind my eyes as curiosity
and dread burrowed in my gut. Shutting the truck door, I caught Sarah’s
mother pause at the sight of her youngest daughter, and an ugly, black blotch
spread across my chest.
“May, Sarah, what a surprise.” Blonde hair bounced as she walked down
the pathway to the driveway, and I leaned on the truck to fold my arms over
my chest. They had the same eyes, May and her mother, and they flashed a
murky green when they landed on me. “Who’s this? Your boyfriend?”
“Yeah, but that’s not important. Mom, I need you to take Sarah for a few
days. The sewage backed up in my apartment, and I need her out of my hair
for, like, a week tops, just until I get everything settled with my landlord.”
Fudging the truth, May spoke sternly, but her mother clearly didn’t hear
anything she’d said after ‘yeah’. Turning to me, the older woman scanned me
up and down, and I kinda liked the disapproval that flooded her eyes. My
sleeves were still rolled up, and she frowned, deepening the wrinkles around
her mouth.
“I guess you have to start somewhere to help your self-esteem, May.”
Clenching my jaw at that, I frowned as May exhaled a horrified gasp and she
planted herself right in front of her mom to prop her fists on her hips.
“That’s not what we’re here for. Did you hear anything I just said? My
apartment is unlivable and I need your help, Mom.” My cell rang, so I
rounded the front of the truck as May struggled to deal with her mother.
Fishing the device out of my pocket, I shook my head wildly as Landry’s
name flashed on the screen before taking the call.
“Did you contact the tenants yet?” Speaking low to avoid being
overheard, I glanced over my shoulder to catch May throwing her hands up in
frustration, but I hadn’t heard what she said.
“Yes, I did. They’re pretty upset, but it was surprisingly easy to negotiate.
I’m going to bring the papers by tomorrow morning for you to sign. Both
families were honestly pretty practical with the settlement.” I’m sure Landry
knew my question before I had a chance to ask it, and he shuffled around on
the line before continuing. “One guy was about ready to move into a home
with his kid and pregnant wife, anyway, so the total for him will be $1.3
million, and the third-floor tenant decided this was a sign to relieve his
misery and is moving to Florida, so that’ll be about $600,000.”
“Really? Alright then. I thought they’d jump at the opportunity to squeeze
me.” Surprise flattened my tone, and I rubbed my jaw and neck as Landry
hummed in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for getting that
done so fast. What about that contract I had you working on over the
weekend?”
“I’m still working on it. Should be ready by Friday.” Nodding curtly, I
hung up to turn back to the drama. May and her mother were arguing loudly.
Sarah just stood there, clearly unsure of what her role in all this was, and I
frowned as I focused on what May and her mom were saying.
“Need you to take her for no longer than a week, Mom. Sarah’s your
daughter, and you don’t even want to do that much for her? Seriously? If you
won’t do it for her, do it for me, at least!” Her voice trembled with anger, and
I resumed my position leaning on the driver’s side door as her mom shook
her head.
“You and I both know a week is never just a week. It’ll end up being
months, and you know it, May. I have more important things to do tha—”
The incredibly loud slap of palm on cheek echoed through the whole damn
neighborhood, and May’s mother stumbled back and clutched her face.
Wincing as May heaved massive, shuddering breaths, I watched them glare at
each other with unease roiling my gut.
“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say. Who the fuck do
you think you are, huh?” May was yelling as loud as she could and I tilted my
head as the neighbors next door came out to sit on their porch and watch the
scene. “You decide one day that you . . . you just don’t want her? You send
Sarah to Seattle when I told you it was a bad idea, and you abandoned her
with no friends, no family, and struggling to be a functioning human being
through the boredom. You won’t even take her for a week? All I need is a
damn week, Mom. And you won’t even do that!”
May’s mother was red in the face, and all the yelling attracted attention
from the house. A rather bulky, graying man came rushing out, and I
suddenly realized where May got those red strands from. The dude was full-
on ginger— pale skin, freckles, with a trimmed red beard and redder hair.
“What’s going on out here?” May flipped her hair back, straightened her
slender shoulders, and took a deep breath as her father flew down the
pathway. Her strawberry blonde waves shimmered in the sunlight, and she
turned to Sarah, marched over, and grabbed her forearm.
“Nothing. You two are disgusting. Come on, Sarah.” Before they could
march off to God only knew where, I took May’s shoulder and her blazing
eyes snapped to mine. “We’re leaving, I said.”
“I know you’re stressed and tired, May, but you can’t give up.” I had a
feeling May’s father would be much easier to talk to as he cradled his crying
wife, and I nodded insistently at May. “Right? Why don’t we all go inside
and talk about this calmly.”
“Talk about what? What happened?” Turning to the older man, I left May
to hold out my hand, and his face rippled between worried and confused. We
shook hands and May’s mother stormed up the path into the house before he
spoke up. “I hope you don’t expect the girls to be calm, Mister . . . ”
“Call me Oran. And no, I don’t, not that this particular moment, at least.
I’d like to explain the situation, if you’re unaware.”
24

May
“So, what happened that you had to bring a truck full of your things back?”
Sitting at the dining room table, I grimaced at my mug of coffee as my dad’s
gaze landed on me expectantly. “You didn’t call first?”
“I didn’t exactly have time. On Friday, while I was at work, the sewage in
my apartment backed up, and I’ve been a mess. It’s so bad that no one can
live there anymore, and I have to stay somewhere else. I need Sarah to stay
here just until Saturday, but Mom’s being unreasonable.” My dad’s bushy
brows rose high and I turned my mug absently on the table as I sunk into my
chair. “I have nowhere to live and I might lose my job. I can’t handle
worrying about Sarah, too.”
“Oh, May, that’s an awful situation to be in.” I lifted my head and my
eyelid twitched as my ears rang with the but that balanced on the tip of my
dad’s tongue. He frowned, the lines around his mouth and eyes deepening,
and I clutched the mug handle tightly. “I’m sorry, May, but we have a lot
going on right now. As much as we want to help, we just can’t. We have too
much on our plate right now with your brothers, and I’m working a lot of
overtime.”
“How much will it cost a day for you, her own father, to let Sarah board
at her own childhood home, huh?” Oran leaned forward, that familiar
businesslike lilt in his tone and gravity dragging down his features. I held my
breath, my heart pounded, and disbelief draped my shoulders as my dad tore
his eyes from me to Oran. “$250,000? Or is that not enough? I can keep
going up. Let me know what number is good enough for you. After all, since
you don’t want responsibility of your own children, and someone has to foist
them on you and your wife, I assume you’ll need to be persuaded somehow
else. How’s $500,000 a day?”
“I-I don’t think—”
“You don’t think that’s enough? $750,000 a day? That’s about how much
this house is worth, isn’t it? Surely, you have an extra room here. I’ll even do
you the favor of having someone come in and specifically make Sarah’s
meals and deliver them to her, and then clean up. It’ll be like she’s not even
here.” This was too outrageous to believe, and my mouth dried as Oran
deadlocked eyes with my father and cocked his head quizzically. My chest
tightened, the blood drumming in my ears as the silence stretched, and my
dad licked his lips heavily before nodding.
“I suppose that would be good enough.” My stomach dropped to my
ankles and the blood drained from my face as Oran stood up and extended his
arm. They shook hands, a devil’s bargain, and a violent shiver lodged
between my shoulder blades. Disbelief hollowed my lungs and my chest
concaved as my vision blurred and air invaded my head.
“May, come help me with your things.” He put his hand on my shoulder
and the hairs on my neck stood up when he practically wiped his palm on my
back. I stood up, my knee cracking when it straightened, and I followed Oran
out of the dining room, through the living room, and out the front door.
“What the hell was that, Oran?” Hissing through my teeth, I punched him
in the arm, and he smirked as he held up his phone to flash the display.
Blinking hard, I tensed and sucked in a sharp breath, and he paused the
recording to jerk his chin at me. “What the hell is that?”
“Ammunition. Like I said earlier, a threat is always empty. It’s the
feelings of the person being threatened that matters.” My cheek twitched, and
Oran slid his phone back into his pocket as he took the stairs to the pathway.
“You know your parents, May. I don’t. Obviously, I’m not going to pay shit,
but your father agreed to it, only after I assured him Sarah wouldn’t be
noticed.”
“I’m going to give you such good road head on the way home. Oh, my
God.” He smirked, and I reached to scratch the back of his head, just to touch
him, to show him how grateful I was. “My relationship with my parents has
never been so damn bad. I don’t get it.”
“The difference is you don’t have a mental illness getting in the way of
your future, May.” We reached the driveway and Oran turned to me with
distaste dribbling from his sharp features. “You’ve done plenty of research,
I’m sure. Having a diagnosis, even as mild as hers, is an obstacle Sarah will
have to work very, very hard to overcome. You said her birthday is on
Saturday, and she wants to go to the Carolinas. You can hire a chaperone for
her, someone with experience with this particular kind of autism who will
follow your rules in a way that can bend with Sarah’s . . . impulsiveness.”
“I never even thought of that.” Crossing my arms under my bust, I
frowned at the comforting hands on my shoulders, and Oran cupped my
cheeks.
“You’re not the one who’s supposed to think of it. On the outside,
though, it’s pretty obvious to me. Just like getting Sarah a job at a restaurant
was not the best idea. If she’s as stubborn and introverted as you say, she’s
not going to do a job she doesn’t want to do. So, clearly, she needs to have a
passion for whatever she wants to do, right?” It took me too long to realize
what Oran was getting at, and my brows rose as the connections finally made
themselves in my head.
“Oh-h-h . . . I get it. You’re saying she should do something with birds.
Anything else is just a waste.” He stroked my cheekbones with calloused
thumbs and I tilted my head into his touch and closed my eyes. “I’d probably
be a snotty mess right now if it wasn’t for you, Oran.”
“You can show your appreciation another time. We’re going to head back
to Seattle and find you a nice hotel room with a nice bath and a nice massage
therapist, okay?” Humming softly, I covered Oran’s palms with my own, and
he ducked to kiss my lips tenderly. His lips were warm and slightly chapped,
and I caressed up his taut forearms to sigh in a brief, blissful moment of
content.
“Guys . . . ” Twisting to see Sarah standing awkwardly at the lip of the
driveway, I frowned slightly when she shuffled in discomfort. “Can we
leave? I’d rather be homeless than be here.”
“We’re not going to be homeless. Hop in the truck. We’ll get a hotel
room with room service and find some great movies. It’ll be like when I was
in college.” It was saddening how excited Sarah was— the emotion just burst
out her chest and flushed her face and brightened her eyes. Rushing around
the front of the truck, she disappeared from view, and my frown saddened.
“It’s been a long time. College seems so long ago.”
“It’ll get better.” Squeezing my jaw gingerly, Oran turned to open the
driver’s side door for me, and I inhaled a deep breath. Oran charged in and
fixed everything going wrong so fast that I could barely comprehend it. The
fact he could so seriously talk about three-quarters of a million dollars a day
— my dad might’ve questioned if he was bluffing, but I knew Oran was fully
capable of holding up that bargain.
My whole body ached when I sat down, but I buckled my seatbelt and
slumped deep into the seat. The over-worn seats were almost as comfortable
as Oran’s bed, and I closed my eyes to lean my head on Oran’s shoulder. I
was heavy and I exhaled a sigh as the truck rumbled to life.
 “Hey, Oran?” I was really thankful Sarah wasn’t talking to me. Oran
grunted lowly as the truck rolled back out of the driveway. “Why did you
help me that time at Hansen’s?”
“Because it was the right thing to do, Sarah.” Oran must’ve drove with
one hand because his other arm slung over my shoulders, and I shuffled a
little closer while he played with my hair. “The only thing you should count
on is karma— you do good, you get good. Whether you do good by other
people or yourself is entirely up to you, but good is good regardless.”
“I can see why May likes you. You’re really practical. Just like her.”
25

Oran
Gazing at my phone as I debated answering Candice’s call, I scoffed slightly
before swiping the screen and holding it to my ear.
“What?” The wind picked up a little, and I drummed my fingers on the
bar of Hansen’s as a ship horn blew in the background of the call.
“You sound like you’re in a bad mood. I can fix that. Guess who I found
while I was doing a little sneaking around?” Nodding in thanks at the
bartender as she winked at me, I lifted my beer to my lips and grunted in
impatience. “I’m going to be docking in Port Angeles in about five hours.
Carlyle is meeting me there. I finally figured out who’s been spying on me.”
“Really? Carlyle’s going himself? What have you learned?” I could feel
Candice smirking like the Cheshire Cat through the damn phone at my probe,
and I took a huge preparatory gulp of my beer. Whatever it was, it would be
something she’s immensely proud of, but I honestly wasn’t interested.
Carlyle ran the Syndicate like a business— there wasn’t much of the old-
school mobster horror stories going on.
“Just that I was right originally. They’re trying to separate you. Divide
and conquer, I suppose. Fuckin’ eggs.”
“Why would I need to be there for whatever Carlyle’s going to do? I have
something more important to do tonight than watch him say he’s going to do
something, and then have someone else do it.” Candice was quiet at that, and
I licked my lips of the taste of my draft and hissed softly. “I’m hanging up,
now.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Speaking up quickly, Candice paused when a hard,
metallic bang sounded, and I frowned darkly under furrowed brows. “Oran,
since we’re on the phone, I was wondering, is there anything you want me to
bring you?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine, Candice. I honestly don’t believe I’m
going to need anything from you.” Candice’s silence was daunting and I
slowly hung up on her as I contemplated my own announcement. She was the
one who brought me Kara. Well, technically, Kara asked her to.
I never loved Kara. I never felt that thing that spurred life forward. Kara
was a roommate, a constant, a rock in a turbulent ocean. For that, I’d always
have love for her, but . . .
I was a different man, now.
Lifting my glass to my lips, I stared at the deep, swirling stain of the bar
top through narrowed eyes. May was a polar opposite to Kara, totally
different sides of the spectrum, and she didn’t need me to fix her problems.
Where Kara used me as a shield to the outside, May resisted and determined
her own way. She set her mind on something and she did it.
Like earlier, when her hopes for her parents to babysit their own daughter
were dashed, May just sucked it up and trudged on. What happened that
made those two hate Sarah so much, and did May know about it? If nothing
happened, then why the sudden change of heart? Obviously, they had the
resources to assist Sarah in whatever she might want to do, they just didn’t
want the hassle.
My palms itched with the urge to write a check and make the whole
problem disappear. Sourness coated my tongue, and I took another swig of
my beer to wash down the slight disgust that bubbled up in my throat. No,
May needed validation. She wanted her hard work to be recognized, not just
to be given something for nothing.
But I was working on that.
“Tough day?” A little scoff flowed down my nostrils at that, and I leaned
back to sigh as the bartender from the last time I was here leaned on her
forearms on the bar. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Here’s a question.” Locking eyes with her under furrowed brows, I
pursed my lips thinly as my knee bounced under the bar. “If some unforeseen
circumstance rendered you homeless, would you move in with someone you
were seeing despite not seeing them very long?”
Interest sparkled in her brown eyes, and I propped my elbow on the bar
top to hold my cheek in my palm. Holding the bar’s rounded edge lightly, she
leaned back on her heels with a thoughtful expression, and I gulped my beer
to pass the time. Speaking of time . . . it wasn’t even four p.m. yet, and here I
was, drinking. Man, I need to pick up puzzles or something.
“It’d depend on how much of a connection I felt to that person, I guess.
Of course, I would weigh that option against the others, if I had others. My
parents, my brother, maybe, but if they couldn’t help me out, and I liked the
guy a lot . . . yeah, I would.” She arched a brow quizzically and I tapped my
cheek absently as I stared through her. “Why? You thinkin’ of taking that
next step with your girlfriend?”
“Something like that.” I didn’t know why I ordered the free crackers and
guacamole because I sure as shit wasn’t hungry, and I frowned when the
basket and bowl landed in front of me. After what happened this morning, I
couldn’t find my appetite. All that roiled in my stomach was disgust. “I don’t
know what I’m going to do yet.”
“Well, I’m sure that whatever she does, she’ll be happy that you offered.”
The manager of the place bounced off to the back, and I took a whole grain
cracker to rub the salt off between my fingertips.
My phone buzzed and I swiped open the text to gaze at a picture of May,
her alabaster skin shimmering as she sprawled out on a massage table. Her
nakedness came secondary to the peaceful look on her face, even under the
thick, goopy mask she wore. Rust-tinted locks draped over the headrest of the
table, and I picked up my phone to type a quick reply.
Oran: You deserve it. Have a nice time.
May sent me a lot of nudes. Most of the time, it was for no reason at all. I
never had to ask— they just popped up in my messenger at random. I liked
the spontaneity, but it presented me with a problem that got worse and worse
with time. We hadn’t actually fucked but on two occasions, and both of those
were cut short.
That first time in May’s apartment, I really didn’t want her sixteen-year-
old sister to walk in on us. The second time, in the shower at my place, we
both had to get to work, so a lengthy exploration wasn’t an option.
Our missed date on Friday had been the day. Neither she nor I talked
about it aloud, but I was going to learn all her quirks. Obviously, that didn’t
happen, and I wasn’t sure it would any time soon. Regular sex was okay. I
got off on it, and so did she. But that was all it was— okay. It wasn’t even
really nice. It was just whatever. We didn’t have time, so this’ll have to do.
May: I have to work tomorrow Sarah said she’s going to research the
local aviaries and maybe make some calls do you want me to come over
tomorrow night
Fondness clutched my heart in a vise and my lips quirked up as warmth
shot down my arm. Her texts were probably the cutest thing about May. I
typed back a simple ‘yes’.
May: good okay because I really need some destressing and this massage
is great and all but I cant ask the lady to pinch me or anything weird
My smile widened at the rant. I thought on it for a moment, dipped my
cracker and took a bite. The guac was ash on my tongue, my mind too
focused on the memory of Friday morning. Somewhere in my phone, I had a
picture of the pretty, dark bruise on May’s abdomen. She’d sent it to me from
the bathroom of her workplace before ghosting me for three days.
Oran: You’re right. You can’t. That’s my thing. I have a surprise for you
tomorrow. Look forward to it.
26

May
“May, can I talk to you in my office for a sec?” My eyelids fluttered shut
briefly in irritation, and I stood up as Mark hovered in the aisle between my
station and the one behind me. As soon as I saw this building, all the stress I
thought I’d relieved last night came rushing back. Mark shut his office door
with a swift kick, and I stood as he leaned against his desk to catch my gaze.
“How’s your apartment situation?”
“I haven’t been served yet for it, but I’m expecting it to happen any day.
Why?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his scraggly beard ruffling when
he frowned, and I pursed my lips thinly. “Mark, am I being fired?”
“Ah, not yet, but HR is going to call you over at some point today to
discuss the complaints that are piling up about you, May. You’re creating a
hostile work environment, you spend all your time on your phone, you eat at
your computer . . . inconsequential stuff that can’t be proven or disproven.”
Cocking my head, I wasn’t nearly as shocked or appalled as I should’ve been.
I expected this, on some level. It’d been almost two months since my transfer
and no one had given me a chance. None of my co-workers tried to get to
know me, but they sure as shit liked to talk about me. Mark looked guilty
enough, which helped. He wasn’t a bad guy, his hands were just tied tight
behind his back. “When I called your team in to talk about your project
availability, they all said the same thing— you refuse to do work assigned to
you. I wanted to give you a heads up, May.”
“Okay. Thank you, Mark. I appreciate it.” His discomfort became
palpable, and I rolled my neck and shoulders hard to feel a satisfying pop of
pressure under my skin. “I’m sorry, too. I caused a lot of trouble for you that
I didn’t intend to. I just wanted my credit in my pocket. David strung me
along for almost two years, and I didn’t expect things to end up like this.”
“It’s not your fault, May. I’m sorry, too, that this had to happen when
you’re dealing with your apartment.” Ducking my head in a nod, I kind of
just turned around and walked out and back to my desk. Glancing around, I
now noticed that all those side-eyes were satisfied and almost gloating. I
unlocked my computer and sighed heavily through my nose.
 At least all the shitty stuff was happening to me all at once.
Swiping around on my phone screen, I navigated to Oran’s texts before
hesitating, and I nibbled my bottom lip diligently.
May: I’ll call you after my meeting with HR they’re calling me in at some
point to talk about the complaints they’ve been getting
I puffed out my lips as I typed a response, and Oran started to reply
almost immediately. Uncertainty rampaged across my chest, but how much
of this was one person supposed to take? Obviously, I was grossly
underappreciated, and if I was going to get fired over lies . . .
Oran: Let them know you have another job, so if they’re going to fire you,
just let it happen.
My brows rose in surprise, and Oran sent me a winky face emoji as some
of the uncertainty seeped out of my pores. Warmth flooded my veins and I
put my phone away to pull out the huge file folder containing all my research
for his project. I honestly didn’t know what else I could do on my own, so I
tapped the smooth top of the manila absently.
I wasted away an hour or so before my landline started to blink
insistently. I grabbed the phone and punched the button to lean back in my
chair. Scribbling around on a pad, I held the phone between my shoulder and
ear and took a deep, stabilizing breath.
“May Hart.”
“May, it’s Jackie from HR. Do you have a moment to come talk?”
Jackie? I know her. She’s the one who handled my transfer to Jerry’s team.
We got on fine, and I nodded with a hum of acknowledgment before hanging
up. Gathering up my stuff just so someone didn’t mess with it, I locked my
computer and my desk and stood up. Anxiety burrowed in my gut, and I held
my manila folder tightly to my chest as I shouldered my purse.
The journey to the HR office was an elevator ride down a floor. I knocked
on Jackie’s door softly. Holding my breath when she called me to enter, I
hesitated before grabbing the knob. She stood up from behind her desk, a
smile on her face, and my mouth dried when she gestured me to sit across
from her.
“I take it by the nervous expression that you know why you’re here,
May?” Nodding as I perched on the edge of the armchair, Jackie swept back
her long, blonde hair into a ponytail before sitting herself. “There’s not going
to be a decision right this second. I just want to get your side of the story. I
know most of this is petty stuff, so we’re gonna just talk about the more
serious issues right now.”
“Okay. Where do you want to start?” She nodded, her rounded face
drawing in seriousness, and I held my purse on top of the folder in my lap. “I
get wanting to talk to me, but if you’re going to fire me, you should just do it.
I have another job lined up already.”
“Well, I don’t know if you’re going to be terminated. That’s why we’re
talking. I know things haven’t been that great since David’s team’s audit. He
was a well-liked guy, and he was friends with all the team leads. So, let’s
start with Jerry and your team, alright? According to this report, you’ve
refused on several occasions to do assigned project development tasks. Is that
true, and why or why not?” I couldn’t help but scoff loudly, but Jackie didn’t
hold it against me as I tightened my grip on my purse noticeably.
“That’s a lie. Jerry’s the one who refuses to give me anything to do.
Those tasks I refuse to do are stapling papers and running to the printer five
feet away and he even had the gall to tell me to go to Dunkin’ Donuts and get
him a coffee, and he threatened me when I said ‘no’.” She typed what I said,
probably verbatim, and I frowned under tightly knit brows. “You can check
correspondence if you need to. None of my teammates are shy about how
they feel about me.”
“I already did.” That shocked me to my core, and my jaw nearly fell in
my lap as Jackie cast me a questioning look. “It’s my job to investigate these
claims. It’s available knowledge the reasons why David’s team was audited
and eventually terminated, so not knowing or believing it isn’t a valid excuse.
So, let’s move on. I’ve received several reports from people not on your team
that accuse you of creating a hostile work environment. What’s your side of
it?”
“Um, okay. I mean, if everyone decides they want you out, they’re the
ones who create the problem. In David’s team, I had somewhat polite
relationships with everyone else, but when the team got dissolved, it turned
sour. I don’t think declining to reply to jabs about my love life is necessarily
hostile, although after a few days, I did get snappy about it.” Jackie nodded,
her brows wiggling in encouragement for me to continue, but I had to tread
very carefully. I wasn’t going to stay here, but if I didn’t get fired, I could still
get a really nice severance package that’d help with my upcoming
bombardment of lawsuits. “I really don’t know what to say, Jackie. I don’t
eat at my desk. I don’t have my phone out all day, although I do check it
because my sixteen-year-old sister is alone right now. I don’t type too loudly.
I don’t even really talk to anyone on my team, let alone anyone outside of my
team.”
“Do you feel like everyone in the office is out to get you?” Rolling my
lips between my teeth at the probe, I shook my head, and Jackie’s bright
brown eyes narrowed on me shrewdly. “What do you feel about your current
work situation?”
“To be honest, I wish I had never taken this job. David stole my projects,
so I can’t use them in a portfolio because the ownership was contested. He
promised me over and over again that I was in line for a promotion that didn’t
exist, and the only reason I got it was because Oran was there to force it.
Then, I got transferred to this new team, and no one cares about the report—
they just took David’s spite and kept it going.” Licking my lips heavily, I
flexed my fingers around the sides of my purse as sourness coated my
tongue. “I did nothing wrong. How they feel about me, and whether or not
they like me, has nothing to actually do with me. I certainly don’t care about
them even enough to be angry or dejected, and especially not enough to try to
get in their favor.”
“Okay. Speaking of Mr. Santino, what happened last week that he came
here personally?”
“Um-m, it’s a bit of a story. Basically, we met because he went all white
knight for my sister on her third shift of her first job, so I wanted to thank
him. David sent me in his place to that meeting where I learned he was
stealing my work, and that whole thing happened. Afterward, Oran asked me
to talk about a proposal he wanted to commission, so we got to talking about
that. A couple of weeks later, I saw him at this coffee shop and he asked if I
was available to present.” Clearing my throat roughly, I nodded to myself at
that version of events. HR didn’t need to know we were screwing around,
after all. “Anyway, Oran owns the subsidiary, so he’s used to getting what he
wants. When Jerry, who made perfectly acceptable points, didn’t jump and
kiss his feet, he kinda went on a power trip. I don’t want to divulge too much,
but I did chew him out on the elevator and he seemed to understand that he
was wrong.”
“So, you’re not using your relationship with him to further your career or
disrupt your work environment for your benefit?” My eyes widened at that
and I shook my head as Jackie angled herself to face me fully. “There’s more
than one complaint that you’ve threatened people’s jobs through your
association with Mr. Santino.”
 “E-excuse me?” I blinked hard, fire licked up my neck and an ache
formed behind my eyes, but Jackie just watched me steadily, observing.
“Number one, I was commissioned for this job by him, professionally. I
wouldn’t compromise that by fucking him and blasting it to the whole office,
rendering my integrity meaningless. Secondly, I would never give anyone
here so much credit that I would get him involved. And thirdly, if I did want
to get in a position to advance myself professionally by sleeping with
someone, why the hell would I not sleep with Mark or James or someone
who actually works here?”
“I asked that same question, honestly.” Oh-h-h, that made me mad, and
Jackie nodded with a wry, dry amusement lacing her voice. She stood up,
extending her hand, and I breathed fire as I clutched my bulging file to my
chest. “We’ll be in touch, May.”
27

May
I stepped out of the elevator, tapped Oran’s name on my phone, and held the
speaker to my ear. The line rang as I made my way out of the lobby,
following the throng of people on a mass exodus to lunch. Today had been
calm, if I didn’t count that HR meeting, and I actually felt pretty good.
“Hello?” Oran sounded annoyed, but before I could open my mouth, he
was talking again. “Are you going to ask me to lunch, May? Unfortunately, I
have a meeting.”
“Uh, okay. I wasn’t going to, but now I’m kinda pissed you can’t.” For a
moment, there was nothing on the line but muffled talking, and I wandered
listlessly down the sidewalk. People crowded everywhere and I had to walk
their pace, which was pretty slow, but I couldn’t complain when the speaker
crackled loudly for my attention. “Oran? You there?”
“I am. My brother is insisting on meeting you.” I could tell in his tone he
wanted me to say ‘no’ and I gnawed on my lower lip absently. “If you’re not
busy, we’ll have you back at work on time.”
“Oh, I’m actually—” But even then, I couldn’t get much out when a
large, black car pulled up to the sidewalk, and I paused when Oran sighed
sharply. The door popped open and a man I didn’t recognize stepped out as I
slowly lowered my phone. How does Oran’s brother know what I look like?
Kinda creepy.
“May, right? I’m glad we bumped into each other. I’m Carlyle.” People
streamed around us, determined to make the most of a thirty-minute lunch
break, and I frowned as I hung up the call. “Would you like to go to lunch
with us? On me, of course.”
I couldn’t say ‘no’. The realization hit me hard and I nodded mutely as
sparkling, sharp, brown eyes cut into me. Carlyle gestured me into the back
seat of the car and I slid my phone into my purse to oblige. Smoothing my
dress, I paused when I saw Oran sitting against the front passenger seat. This
was like a compact limo or something— instead of just one three-person seat,
there were two, facing opposite each other, and I sat across from him behind
the driver.
 This was awkward, there was no denying it, and I held my purse in my
lap as my abdomen tingled wildly.
“So, I understand from Oran that you’re going through a rough time at
work and home. I’ve been wanting to meet you, but I live in New York, and
I’m not very well-traveled.” My mouth dried as I turned to Carlyle and I
scanned him closely as the car pulled off the sidewalk. They were very
clearly brothers, and very clearly Carlyle was older, but there was something
he was also obviously missing.
Carlyle was cold, and Oran’s mention of his father being a sociopath
floated through my mind. That’s what’s missing— empathy.
“Why did you insist on me coming with you?” The question just slipped
out, and I pursed my lips thinly as my anxiety increased. “I only have a
thirty-minute lunch, and I’m not exactly on the best standing that being late
will slide.”
“I’m aware. Don’t worry about being late. They’re going to force you out,
anyway, so what’s the point in wasting energy on it?” Opening my mouth,
nothing came rolling off my tongue, and Carlyle arched his brows at me
suggestively. “My little brother tells me you’re quite the spitfire, May. You
know, brilliance breeds contempt, and I am very interested in having a long
discussion about your future as a nautical designer.”
“Right.” Sluggishly replying, I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
The silence was deafening as I frantically tried to think of something to say.
“Um, you know, Mr. Santino, I don’t know what’s going on right now, or
what you think is going to happen, but I’m not going to let Oran swoop in
and take control of my life. And I won’t let you do that, either. You may be
rich and whatever, but I’m not.”
Carlyle seemed really amused by my little speech, and my frown
deepened as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Slowly, he turned to Oran to
smirk, propping his elbow on the window to hum softly. The way Carlyle
looked at everyone, like he could just do anything, and no one would oppose
him . . .
How terrifying it was to be on the wrong side of that gaze.
“You haven’t told her yet.” His wasn’t a question, but Carlyle sparked
curiosity in me as Oran shook his head. Carlyle chuckled, and the hairs on the
back of my neck stood up when he turned back to me. “I like you, May.
You’ve got guts.”
“You make me nervous.” Truth rang in my voice, and he actually smiled
at me, like he liked hearing that. “You don’t want to just talk about my career,
do you?”
“Well, we can’t talk about much else yet. I thought it’d be a good ice
breaker rather than asking about your autistic sister or your parents who are
laundering money and kicked her out because she found out.” My brows
nearly flew off my face as I choked on my own spit, and Carlyle nodded with
a low grumble reverberating through the whole damn car. “I take it you never
knew about it.”
“How the fuck?” He gave me a half shrug as my voice failed, and I
sucked in a sharp breath as my narrowed gaze shot to Oran. “Did you know
about this when we went to my house?”
“No, this is the first I’m hearing of it.” Scrunching up my nose, I glared
hard at him as he shook his head curtly. The spark in his eye was bright
enough that he was surprised, and I clenched my jaw hard against the disgust
that crawled up my throat. “It’s a better explanation than them kicking her out
for no reason, or because of her condition.”
“I realize that, damnit! What the hell is going on here?” Turning back to
Carlyle, I scowled darkly at his cool demeanor, and his own eyes narrowed
into slits. “If you’re just going to reveal shit that I don’t need to know right
now and make my life harder—”
“May, hasn’t it tortured you to not know why? Well, now you know. I
bring it up because we’re going to talk about your job and I’d rather you
didn’t consider your sister as a factor. I want you to consider yourself and
only yourself.” My eyelid twitched, and I inhaled deeply and held it as flames
engulfed my lungs. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t let this happen.
Talk about your job, your future as a nautical designer— what the fuck
does that even mean? I don’t need anyone to hand me anything, damnit! The
car rolled to a stop at a light and I turned to open the back door and climb out
of the car. Wide, surprised eyes met mine, and I exhaled slowly, steadily,
before opening my mouth.
“I’ll text you when I feel like it.” I shut the door and icy prickles swept up
my torso in powerful waves as I walked around the car and toward the
sidewalk. Thankfully, they were taking a right turn, without me. Holding my
purse as tightly as I could, my eyes stung as I walked around the corner of a
building and out of view of the car. Leaning heavily against the building, my
heart hurt as it throbbed wildly in my chest and I closed my eyes to suck in a
strangled breath.
 I wasn’t sure if I was glad or not that Oran didn’t come after me because I
just wanted to smack him. Cracking open my eyes, I carefully blotted my
damp eyelashes and rubbed my nose to ease the clog before glancing up.
“May, I promise you, I was totally against this.” The promise was empty,
and I gulped down the dense lump blocking my throat. Oran’s wild gaze was
locked on mine, tearing violently, searching for forgiveness . . . but he
wouldn’t find it.
“Why’d you let that happen, then?” Betrayal thickened my tone and my
tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as Oran’s gaze flashed in alarm. “I’m
not doing this. I have to eat and go back to work while I still can, okay. Bye,
Oran.”
Crossing my arms over my purse, I turned on my heel and walked away,
the huge manila folder in my bag like a concrete brick.
28

Oran
“Oran.” My lip curled into a nasty snarl and my knee bounced furiously as
my blood boiled, gorging my muscles until they threatened to burst from my
skin. Yanking off my jacket, I rolled up my sleeves roughly, and my
brother’s eyes narrowed on me shrewdly. “Oran.”
“Shut the fuck up, Carlyle.” The vicious snap echoed off the car windows
and I shot my brother the most disgusted glare possible. His face was stone,
his lips thin, eyes sharp, but he didn’t have to deal with the backlash of his
egotistical control. Scoffing roughly, venom coated my tongue, and I licked
my teeth in agitation. “I told you that anything you tried to do was going to
fail, that May doesn’t play ball when it’s made of green. And you fucking
ignored me, as usual, but you’re not the fucking one who has to try to fix this.
God damnit, I practically begged you not to.”
“I admit that I underestimated her.” Punching the seat with a growl, I
breathed fire through flared nostrils as Carlyle just looked on, unphased. My
mind whirred too fast to be effective and I closed my eyes to inhale deeply,
but it only fueled the flames engulfing my lungs. “Oran, I honestly thought
you were exaggerating. I apologize.”
“You’re an idiot, Carlyle, seriously.” Rubbing my hands down my face,
my palms sweaty and my fingers stiff, I slumped a little in my seat as I
struggled to get control of myself. “Fuck, I told you, said it specifically that
now wasn’t a good time. I haven’t talked to her about the offer. I haven’t
even hinted at it. I can’t believe you said that about her family.”
“I do my due diligence. Did she seriously not even have the slightest
suspicion?” Shaking my head as the car came to a permanent stop, I cracked
open my eyes to glare at my brother, and he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.
“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter right now. Let’s talk about Candice’s
discovery.”
He popped open the door and climbed out, and I took a few calming
breaths before following. The weather was slowly but surely starting to turn
and the wind was a little nippy against my bare skin. The hairs on my arms
and hands bristled as I adjusted my shirt, but I left my jacket in the car. It was
just too restraining.
I wanted to fucking blow up, and I hissed is agitation as I gazed at the
very fancy restaurant Carlyle had brought us to. Rolling my shoulders, I
popped my neck and patted my pants pockets for my wallet and phone, and
the root of distraction started to take hold.
“So, Candice was right all along— they’re really just stupid.” They
weren’t questions, but my brother nodded firmly as we walked into the high-
end place. The hostess smiled politely and I rubbed the back of my neck
absently as I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s been going on for a while.
Too long, if you ask me.”
Diamon. Diamon. Diamon was the true definition of a grease monkey.
The guy was just an idiot, and I actually felt bad for him. Quietly, my brother
and I were led to our table, and I let my mind roam on the subject. Even when
I was working under my father, Diamon had been a thorn in our sides. He
never actually did anything of substance, but his nuisance factor had been
intensifying.
The Italians were dying. Hell, all those old mobsters were dying. In this
day and age, violence couldn’t get the job done. The threat of it wasn’t
enough. Everything was now a business transaction, and the only thing that
mattered now was the dirt that could be dug up on the other side.
The more noticeable a person was, the easier they fell under Carlyle’s
heel.
Pedro Gonzalez was a great example of that. The guy was an oldie
gangbanger, using an old system that just barely worked anymore. He was on
everyone’s watch list from Canada to Germany. He couldn’t go anywhere
without fear of being pinned down by SAS or SF.
Why? Because Pedro’s dumb ass decided to set fire to a village and kill a
whole ton of civilians. Out and out violence like that just put unnecessary
spotlights on him, and he was trapped like a rat.
Which was how Carlyle was able to terrify him into submission and take
everything he had. Pedro was dead, supposedly, but there wasn’t anyone
willing to take his place because of my brother.
Mexico was a hotbed and my brother kept one heel on their jugular.
“Oran . . . ” Blinking as Carlyle snapped me from my daze, I sat down
across from him and nodded curtly. His eyes narrowed on me, and he
propped his elbows on the table to hold his chin on laced fingers. “Do you
want out?”
 Alarm rang shrilly against my skull, and my eyes widened as the air was
knocked from my lungs. I immediately shook my head, and Carlyle frowned
darkly as I pursed my lips and clenched my jaw.
“Why would I want to do that?” The low, gravelly quality of my voice
scraped against my ear drums and I cleared my throat roughly to shake my
head more firmly. “No. I don’t. I like where I am right now.”
“Good. Good. I ask because I would appreciate you doing something for
me. A favor.” His express drew serious, and I frowned under tightly knit
brows as curiosity speared my chest. Holding my breath in anticipation, I
clenched my hands under the table, and he cocked his head like a snake ready
to strike. “I’m not here because of Candice, specifically. I heard you had a
girlfriend and I wanted to meet her.”
“What does that have to do with whatever favor you want?” The question
rolled thickly off my tongue, and Carlyle’s gaze hardened as his jaw ticked
absently. A cold sweat broke out on my back, and he let the silence stretch as
he held my gaze, staring me down, sizing me up.
“I would like to bring you and her, and Natasha and Erik, out to dinner.
Valerie didn’t come with me, so I thought it’d be a good time to get together.
Do something I haven’t done yet.” My brows rose, a harsh bark of laughter
tearing from my throat, and I shook my head before Carlyle even finished
speaking.
“No, no, you fucked it all up, Carlyle. I’m going to be lucky if she lets me
grovel for forgiveness, and it’ll take a miracle if she accepts it. You have a lot
of nerve asking me a favor like that when you just pissed her off.” For the
first time, maybe ever, I realized Carlyle was even worse than me. For all the
‘due diligence’ he performed, he didn’t realize May wasn’t like Kara in the
least. He didn’t have the slightest inkling that she wasn’t going to be pushed
around. He thought our relationship was advanced enough to get through his
idiocy.
Which it wasn’t . . . and that was really, really sad.
“Carlyle, I don’t think you get it. If there was one person not to flex on, it
was May. You really can’t come back from that. She’s never going to let that
go. Hell, she might even break up with me over it. You realize that, right?”
May’s teary, angry face and the thick note of betrayal in her voice rang in my
skull, and I shook my head sharply. “No, I’m not going to do it. My
relationship isn’t something you can just butt in on when you feel like stirring
the pot, Carlyle.”
 “I went about trying to get to know her the wrong way, Oran. I admit that.
I sincerely thought she knew about her parents and why they kicked her sister
out. I mean, how the hell did she think she got through college with her
parents’ massive debts, anyway?” My brows rose high at that, and Carlyle
scowled darkly in return. “She doesn’t know about that, either, does she?”
“Carlyle, lies don’t show up on a search. Maybe, next time, if there’s a
next time, try feeling a person out before you just assume what you know is
concrete and air-dried.” The waitress flounced over to our table as the
conversation stalled, and I sat back to wonder how, in Carlyle’s mind, he
equated what he did to ‘trying to get to know her’. May barely had contact
with her parents, and it was only with her mother, from what I knew.
When did Carlyle suddenly become such an asshole? Was this really what
I spent so long trying to emulate?
29

May
Knocking gingerly on Oran’s front door, I inhaled a deep, stabilizing breath
and rocked back on my heels. Apprehension flooded my veins when I heard
his steps through the barrier and I exhaled slowly. The door swung open and
Oran’s handsome features washed in surprise when he saw me. He wasn’t
wearing a shirt, and his tattoos distracted me for a brief second before he
shuffled quietly to the side to let me in.
“I thought you’d keep your distance after what Carlyle did, after what I
let him do.” Licking my lips as the gravel in his voice dried my mouth and
made my abdomen clench with foreboding, I simply shook my head. Slipping
past him and into his apartment, I set my purse on the coffee table and turned
to him as he took off his glasses to squint at me. “Why are you here, May?”
“For my apology.” He put his glasses back on and I crossed my arms over
my chest as the stillness between us stretched. My heart started to beat
harder, faster, in the silence, and I worried he would hear it, it was so loud in
my ears. After the seconds ticked by far too slowly, he stepped chest to chest
with me, and my breath hitched when he cupped the back of my head.
Drawing me into an intimate hug, my cheek above his heart, his hand
tangling in my hair, he pressed his nose to my crown.
“Words can’t portray how sorry I am, May. Anything I could say is an
excuse, but there’s not a single one that’s good enough.” My eyes stung at the
true, solemn regret in his tone, and Oran inhaled deeply to squish my face
against his chest. Against my will, my hands crept up his bare sides, and the
powerful muscles there quivered and rippled under my palms. He smelled so
good, so heady and manly, and my eyelids fluttered closed as this beautiful
moment blanketed us.
“I talked to Sarah and she confessed that she confronted my mom about
the money after hearing them talk about it. They kicked her out, but she said
she wasn’t going to blow the whistle.” My declaration didn’t provoke any
response from Oran that I could feel, and I rubbed my cheek against the
coarse, thin layer of hair on his chest. “You’re right, you know— words can’t
portray how sorry you are, Oran.”
 Pulling back, Oran’s eyes sparkled brilliantly behind his prescription
lenses, and I reached to gently pluck them from the bridge of his nose. His
whole expression tenderized, and my heart rampaged against my ribs as I
took his hand and led him to the stairs. He could see enough to know where
the steps were, but he let me do this as he tangled our fingers together.
Folding his glasses with my free hand, I climbed to the loft to set them on the
nightstand, and he pressed flush against my back.
Strong, stiff fingers gathered my hair, and I bit down on my bottom lip
when Oran brushed his lips along my shoulder. Our clasped palms cradled
against my abdomen, and he reached a long, sinewy arm to pull open the
small, top drawer. Heat flooded my veins, replacing my blood as it suddenly
went silent in my ears, and he held up a wrapped gift. The small box was too
long to be a jewelry box, but the shimmering, cream-colored paper hid the
contents well.
“Open it.” The whisper flowed down my neck and under my blouse, and I
took the box and scrunched up my nose at how heavy it was. I didn’t take
Oran for one to buy senseless gifts just to give me something, so I carefully
popped open the sides of the paper.
Underneath the pretty wrapping was a wooden box, adorned with a few
flowers around the edges that’d been burned in. Inhaling a sharp breath to
hold as my lungs shrunk with expectation, I unhooked the small, delicate
latch, and the hinges didn’t creak in the slightest.
I don’t know what I expected, but the wide, wooden clamps sitting in two
perfect rows in the box wasn’t it. Suddenly, my senses fogged and I dragged
my fingertips along the dozen on their velvet seat. They were clamps, wide,
smooth. They looked like fat laundry pins, I thought, but I really didn’t know
what they were called. I had never seen them before.
Each one was engraved with a delicate, monogram ‘M’ and a little flower
— the same one on the top of the box. The amount of effort that must’ve
gone into this stole my breath, and I exhaled a shuddering breath as emotion
crumpled my lungs.
“They’re beautiful.” My voice cracked, and Oran wrapped his hands
around mine on either side of the box. Gently lifting the box from my palms,
he set it on the nightstand to turn me and sit me on his bed.
“You’re beautiful, May.” I was kinda glad I’d taken his glasses off so he
couldn’t see me tear up, and he nudged me onto my back to hover over me on
his hands and knees. His eyes searched my face, and I cupped his jaw to
guide his lips to mine only for him to pause just a hair’s width from me. “Let
me know if you need to stop.”
“No.” My croak earned me a small smile, and Oran shuffled down to take
off my shoes with the utmost care and gentleness. Goosebumps swept up my
legs, and I gasped breathlessly when he nibbled the inside of my knee.
Unzipping my skirt, he tugged the fabric down, and I lifted my hips as he
kissed hot, open-mouthed kisses up my inner thigh.
Popping the snaps of my shirt once my skirt was on the floor, Oran licked
my abdomen sensually, and I grappled the blanket above my head with a
moan. Arching into his mouth, I closed my eyes as he peeled the light fabric
from my skin, and he skirted the cups of my bra with his nose. Straight teeth
grazed the swell of my breast, and he unhooked the front clasp of my bra
before kissing up my chest and neck.
“May . . . ” The searing kiss Oran planted on my lips sucked my soul
right out of my body, and he bore down between my open legs with all the
power he possessed. His tongue invaded my mouth, forcing its way between
my teeth to wrap around mine, and my taste buds went wild with hunger.
Trapping me under him, he dropped to his elbows on either side of my head,
and I gasped into his mouth as he ravaged mine. Molten desire pooled in my
abdomen, and he ground his bulge against my core to send shocks of pleasure
up my torso.
Pulling back to pant harshly, Oran sat on his knees to nudge me deeper
toward the center of his bed, and I scrambled to obey. He unfastened his
pants to slide out of them, and he grabbed the box off the nightstand as dark
desire twisted his sharp features. My heart thundered in my chest, and I
sputtered when he grasped my breasts and squeezed them together, the box
falling beside me to sit patiently. Hot pants stiffened my nipples and I
moaned when he sucked a taut peak between his teeth.
A thin scrap of fabric was all that held my need at bay, and I reached
between us only for Oran to grab my hands and fling them above my head.
His growl reverberated off my sternum, and he bit down on the side of my
breast hard. My cry tore from my dry throat, and he licked the spot to
intensify the sting where he’d broken my skin. Pleasure rocketed through my
chest, and I arched sharply as he dragged his palms down my sides.
Shivers lodged between my shoulder blades, and I reveled in Oran’s teeth
and lips and the hardness of him between my legs. When he pulled back
again, I dared crack my eyes open, and I panted furiously as he grabbed one
of the clamps from the box. Caressing my neck with the closed end, he
dragged the toy down to my chest, and I held my breath as anticipation
rampaged through my veins.
Pain mingled with pleasure in my belly when Oran snapped the clamp on
my nipple, and I gasped as my palms flew to grip his wrist. He just smacked
me away, snatching a second clamp to assault my left nipple, and a moan
bubbled up from deep inside me. He was merciless, a third clamp biting into
the soft, sensitive skin on my abdomen, agitating the ugly, greenish-purple
mark he’d so recently made.
“Get on your hands and knees.” The demand prickled my skin, and I
rolled over to stick my ass up as Oran groaned in satisfaction. My juices
leaked out of me when he peeled back my panties, and I buried my face in the
comforter to stifle the guttural, needy moan that escaped me. His fingernails
dug into my flesh as he spread my ass cheeks, and I clenched from the cool
air flowing between my hot folds.
A fourth clamp clasped sharply around my clit, and my throat closed on
the squeak that ripped through my chest. The intensity of it all sent an ache
behind my eyes, and I clenched my jaw hard in an effort not to let go.
Gripping the blanket with white-knuckle tightness, I shivered as pleasure and
pain warred in my abdomen, and Oran slipped his fingers between my folds
tantalizingly.
The bulbous head of his cock poised at my entrance, and he parted my
folds with his thumbs as my heart stuttered. Oran’s hands shook . . . I shook .
. . everything vibrated with the pent-up desire we hadn’t yet had a chance to
unleash. Each spasm that strafed my muscles speared my abdomen with the
sharp sting of the clamps, and he slowly sunk himself into my quivering
channel. The clamp on my clit tightened as the bead gorged on desire, and I
tensed when the pinch on my abdomen hurt when I clenched.
There were no words as Oran ground his hips against my ass before
grabbing the globes as tightly as he could. His nails dug crescent shapes into
my flesh, and he forced me back as he thrust forward. I choked on my
tongue, the pleasure pricking my eyes and threatening to fall and stain his
blanket. The coil in my abdomen tightened, and he scratched hard down my
ass and up my thighs.
Nothing prepared me for the delicious sting when Oran smacked my ass
cheek, the slap of skin on skin ringing in my ears. The shallow scores on my
skin flared, and I cried out as wave after wave of pleasure rippled up my
torso with icy prickles. My heart throbbed, my inner walls undulating around
his hard, thick cock as he rode my orgasm. My ass cheeks flexed wildly, and
I arched sharply as my cream dribbled down my thigh from the force of my
release.
“I’m not done with you yet, May.” This time, the reverence in his tone
was tainted by darkness, something deep and primal and all-consuming.
30

May
The world had been righted, at least for now, and I hissed when Oran
snapped his hips at a slow, steady pace. He made sure I felt everything, and
my eyes rolled back when his head bumped that spot inside me. Shivering
wildly, I rocked back on my knees to grind against him, and his groan rolled
up my back to raise the fine hairs on the back of my neck.
Draping himself over me, Oran wrapped a powerful forearm around my
neck to hoist us up, and my pants morphed into hoarse wheezes. His cock
twitched inside me as I shuddered weakly, and I clamped down on him as his
harsh breaths tickled my ear. The veins, the thick ridge of his head, coaxed
pleasure from me, and he flicked the clamp on my right nipple as he thrust
hard. My cry crackled faintly, and I arched sharply in a silent plea for more.
Pain . . . was glorious. And only Oran could make me suffer in just the
right way.
Sweat drenched my body, dripping off my nose and chin and soiling his
blanket to the point of being noticeable, and I hissed when he pulled out of
my channel. Yanking me onto my back, he stood on the edge of the bed, and
my mouth watered as I reached greedily for his cock. The veins bulged so
clearly, his head throbbing and red and ready, and he gasped as he thrust
down my throat. My head hung off the side of the mattress, and I gagged
violently as his pelvis ground against my chin.
Pulling back to set a brutal, hard pace, Oran grabbed the clamp on my clit
to release the pressure, and I lifted my hips in mindless need. His cock tasted
like me and him, us together, and my taste buds tingled to the point of
numbness with satisfaction. Bracing his knee by my head, he buried his face
between my open legs, and I choked around his head.
Air invaded my skull when it couldn’t make it to my lungs, and he licked
and sucked and slathered my slit and bead ravenously. Oran’s grumbled of
pleasure reverberated up my body, and the friction of his thrusts agitated the
clamps on my nipples. The rawness of my skin only added to the euphoria
my brain swam in, and I gulped around his cock as his grueling pace
sharpened.
 Jarring thrusts colored the edges of my blurred vision, and Oran slipped
his tongue into my abused channel as the lack of oxygen made my lungs
scream. He pulled back just enough to let me breathe a ragged breath, and I
gasped loudly as saliva dribbled down my cheek.
The only sounds were pants and groans and strained noises as I caressed
his shaft with my lips, and Oran straightened to circle my flaming clit with
calloused fingertips. I didn’t even try to stave off my release, shivers gripping
my spine in a vice as my whole body spasmed, and I ground my teeth faintly.
Oran took off all the clamps, and a guttural, low moan thickened the
atmosphere as pain exploded from those spots. I made the mistake of opening
my eyes, and the world spun when he flipped me onto my belly. Flames
skittered under my skin, and tears fell from my eyes in an unstoppable flow
as he climbed behind me to hold my thighs shut with his knees.
His head tore my entrance as he jammed into my channel, and I cried. It
was so good. It was too good. Lying flat, I couldn’t even grab the blanket, I
was so weak, and he thrust hard to grind against my ass cheeks. Oran’s grunts
as he shoved himself in me wildly, harder, harder and faster, rang in my ears
while the rest of the world fell away from the rapture. He pushed down on
my lower back, and I could only gasp when his thrusts sharpened and became
erratic. The slap of his taut skin on my fiercely stinging cheeks, the burn of
his leg hairs against my thighs, I couldn’t withstand it while the pain
threatened to tear me apart.
The whole time, he said nothing legible, and Oran hovered over me to
grip the edge of the mattress as he pumped his hips furiously. His hot, heavy
breaths ruffled my hair, and he thrust one final time. Just the rippling up his
shaft was enough to make me cum. Heat flooded my abdomen, and he
strained and sputtered as he emptied himself inside me. The bed trembled
with his shakes, and I gasped shallowly when he pulled out of my channel.
Clammy palms slipped on my biceps when Oran grabbed me to stop me
just slithering off the bed, and I whimpered when I clenched and agitated my
entrance. Falling back into a sweaty, quivering heap, he wrapped himself
around me and all I could smell and taste was him.
“Are you okay?” Rasping the question, Oran tangled his hand in my hair
to knead my scalp, and I could only groan in reply. He was warm and hard,
secure, and I savored the feeling of him as he reached his free hand to wipe
my face ever so gently. “You look beautiful.”
“I am . . . ” My voice crackled harshly, and Oran’s huff against my face
dried my lips as he brushed his thumb along them. Inhaling a surprisingly
deep breath, I hissed lightly when my nipples rubbed his chest, and he
shuffled down to slather them with saliva. “Oh-h God.”
“I have something for this.” His murmur warmed my chest, and Oran
shuffled off the bed to do something that sounded suspiciously like open a
dresser drawer. My eyesight right now was probably as bad, if not worse,
than his, and I rolled gingerly onto my back with a soft groan. Holding
myself still when the bed dipped, I tensed when he slathered something cold
on my nipples. Hissing softly when the pain soothed almost immediately, I
sunk into his bed and he wiped the gel-like substance on my abdomen next.
“Just relax, May. This stuff works magic.” Cracking my eyes open, I
watched blurrily as Oran screwed the top of the bottle back on. It could’ve
been mistaken for a tube of toothpaste or something. He tossed it carelessly
back onto his dresser with a harsh clatter, but I barely heard it when he laid
down on his side next to me. “Are you going to stay the night?”
“What time is it?” My croak earned me a shrug, and Oran sluggishly got
up again to reach over me and grab his glasses.
“It’s almost ten p.m.” Just as quickly, he set them down again and I
couldn’t resist reaching up to trace the words scrawled on his ribs. My
question must’ve been written on my face, and he covered my palm with his
as he sat cross-legged beside me. “It’s not from the Bible. It says ‘There’s
worse people to be’. This was actually one of my first tattoos.”
With the script and the size, it seemed like the quote was longer than that,
and I hummed softly in acknowledgment. Dragging my palm to the tall,
blooming stalk-like flower on his sternum, Oran sighed softly.
“Gladiolus. It symbolizes a lot of things— honor, strength. It’s also a
flower of remembrance.” Inhaling a deep, leisurely breath, I held it as I
trailed my hand up to his shoulder, and Oran frowned slightly. The spider
was a work of art, but the way his muscles rippled under his skin, I couldn’t
help but wonder if he didn’t like it. “My brother and I got matching ones. He
hates spiders. When we were teenagers, I asked him if he would get one
tattooed on him with me. We were still at the point of our relationship where
we were brothers, but that got lost somewhere.”
“Are you afraid of him?” Oran barked a surprised, short laugh, covering
his mouth with the back of his hand, but he ended up jerking his head in a
nod, anyway. My lips twitched, and I wiggled to rest my head in his lap so he
could stroke my hair and cheek.
 “I think the only person that’s not afraid of him is his girlfriend. Carlyle
isn’t a man to mess with.” Out of the corner of my eye, he rubbed his cheek,
as if he was remembering an instance in which he did just that, and Oran
glanced down at me through glazed eyes. “He takes after our dad too much.
My old man is a diagnosed sociopath, and Carlyle has strong tendencies. I’m
pretty okay, most of the time.”
I kept my mouth shut at that. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I
recognized that lilt in Oran’s tone. Whatever it was, it had to do with Kara,
and I sure as shit wasn’t going to open that door again.
31

Oran
I couldn’t fall asleep. I couldn’t get over this stupid fear that May would be
gone when I woke up, so I wrapped my arm around her more firmly. She
cuddled against my side, leg over my abdomen, hand on my chest, but she
still wasn’t close enough for me. The television mounted on the wall opposite
the head of my bed spewed out color and low noise, but a hurricane could’ve
been coming through, and May probably wouldn’t wake up.
Was that all there was? An apology and a gift and some rough sex— that
was all that was needed to smooth over the crap that happened earlier?
Disbelief clung to the roof of my mouth and soured my tongue, and I licked
my teeth absently.
A heartfelt apology.
A thoughtful gift.
Meaningful sex.
So, why did I feel like it just wasn’t enough? Why did I feel like May
forgave me too easily? In fact, she not once said the words ‘I forgive you’,
and she didn’t actually say she was okay when I asked. The troubling
thoughts creased between my brows, and I inhaled deeply as I got sucked
deeper and deeper down. If that’s not enough, I don’t know what is.
“I can feel you thinking.” May’s tired mumble made my cheek twitch,
and that gross taste on my tongue intensified when she held me tighter.
“What’s wrong, Oran?”
“Is this how easy it is, or am I just fooling myself?” Fiddling one of the
clamps in my free palm, I frowned at the television as May nuzzled my chest.
“It’s that easy.” Grumbling lowly in acknowledgment, I set down the
clamp to turn to May, and she moaned softly when I caressed her upper thigh.
The strange sensation of weightlessness made breathing so easy, as if I had
struggled with every inhale up until now. The laziness slowed my
movements, and I wanted to savor this for as long as I could. Holding my
breath, an airiness invaded my skull, but I wasn’t tired. Sleeping meant
ignoring the incredible buxom body against me.
May was asleep again in seconds, and I clenched and released my jaw
absently as my mind wandered. Despite Carlyle’s insistence, he grilled me
about May, not the Italians. It took every ounce of integrity I had to keep my
mouth shut. I only gave the shallowest of answers because I’d be damned if
Carlyle was going to avoid apologizing himself. I wasn’t positive, but I
couldn’t remember a time when he apologized, even when something was his
fault.
He’d asked me if May knew about the Syndicate, but of course, she
didn’t. He’d asked me if May knew about Kara, what really happened, but . .
. she didn’t. He’d asked me if I was prepared to lie my way into old age to
keep May with me, but I couldn’t answer.
May forgiving me for not standing up to my brother was one thing, but
being what essentially amounted to a crime lord? She would leave me—
there was absolutely no doubt in my mind of that.
My ships moved millions . . . billions . . . of dollars of illegal shit— guns,
drugs, women, weapons of any and all kinds, from bombs to chemicals to
whatever fucked up shit someone with enough money and time could think
up.
“Maybe I do want out. I would get out for you, huh.” My murmur was
met with a soft puff of her exhale, and I thought on that as an ache sprung up
behind my eyes. The question plagued me, and it became hard to look at the
television, so I stared at the ceiling.
I would break away if May gave me an ultimatum, but that would mean
I’d have to tell her in the first place.
If she were smart, she wouldn’t give me that option.
My cell phone started to ring, and I rolled over to snatch it and silence the
ringer as May groaned in protest. Carefully untangling myself from her, I
swung my legs over the side of the bed and squinted at my phone. I could
barely make out the bold, and I scoffed lightly at my terrible eyesight.
“Hello?” Standing up, I rounded the bed and grabbed my glasses before
leaving the room, and I held my phone to my ear with shoulder on my way
down the stairs. “It’s one a.m. What do you want?”
“Hey, Oran.” Pausing in surprise, I gripped the bannister as that voice I
hadn’t actually heard myself filtered through the phone, and I sucked in a
sharp breath.
“Mateo? Why are you calling at one a.m.? Is everything okay?” I mean,
yeah, he was the baby of the family, and a little shit most of the time, but he
was still my brother. Carlyle might see Mateo as less than useful than the bag
holding garbage, though. I couldn’t exactly do anything about that, and he
sniffled over the phone, like he was outside in the cold.
“I’m okay. I think. I just . . . I don’t know. I felt like calling.” Resuming
my way down the stairs, I frowned as sadness stabbed my heart over and over
again. Mateo wasn’t the same kid he’d been a year ago. I shuffled into the
kitchen as an intense silence stretched between us. “Uh, so, are . . . are you
available to . . . talk?”
“Yeah, Mateo, what’s up?” No one knew it, but I’d tried so damn hard to
get Mateo to talk to me while we were both in New York. Mateo was just a
kid, and what Carlyle forced him to do was barbaric even by Carlyle’s
standards. Sure, Mateo had made a mistake, but going about it like that— I
didn’t know how Mateo was still alive, frankly. Sitting on the sofa, I grabbed
the Bluetooth device out of the little basket sitting on the glass and connected
it to my phone.
Clasping my hands together, I propped my elbows on my knees as Mateo
took a shuddering breath.
“I wish I didn’t think so much.” That fake-ass Spanish accent he tried to
carry was absolutely gone, leaving only sadness and emptiness behind, and
my nails dug in between my knuckles. “I don’t want to do this anymore,
Oran. I hate New York City, and I hate Mandy, and I hate being alive.”
The thing was, his voice didn’t wobble. He didn’t sound like he was
going to burst into tears or anything. Mateo just sounded sad— so, so very
sad. I grimaced as he took a breath, but it didn’t shudder, and he sounded like
he was smoking a cigarette judging by the big exhale.
“Dad offered me a way out. I’m going to take it. I’m gonna move
somewhere where no one knows me and nothing happens, and I’ll be the
neighborhood freak who never leaves his house.” I had a nagging feeling
Mateo didn’t actually want a reply, so I covered my mouth as disgust glued
my tongue to the roof. “I was never cut out for this, you know. But I had to
do it because, well, I don’t know why I had to. I just couldn’t not. There was
never another option, you know? It was easier to just go along with it. I was
never expected to do anything but move out of the way, but ever since that
bitch tricked me, Carlyle’s taken it upon himself to try to make me like him.
Or even like you, Oran. I’m not like either of you.”
“Dad was in the city last week and we had a really long talk. I think, for
once, he accepted that force wasn’t going to work. When he told me I could
walk away, I think he really felt bad about how I turned out. I mean, I don’t
even know if he’s capable, or if he’s just that good a liar, or if I’m just really
bad at spotting a liar. It really doesn’t matter in the end, I guess.” Clenching
my jaw, I ground my teeth at the self-depreciating laugh Mateo spewed out,
and he started coughing violently. He wheezed and I wondered how much he
smoked a day or if this was a one-off and he wasn’t used to it. “S-sorry, I’m
outside and it’s cold.”
“That’s alright, Mateo.” A curious notion hit me hard— Mateo hadn’t
said a single derogatory word this entire conversation. My brows furrowed as
he cleared his throat roughly. “Mateo, you’re not a screw-up. You’re just a
kid, and trust me, I know what it’s like to grow up in Carlyle’s shadow. He
and Dad are the worst, but that does also mean you’re better than them.
Granted, it’s not all that difficult.”
I fucking sucked at this pep talk shit, and Mateo chortled in my ear at my
sad, sad attempt. Even his laugh was strange, wispy and tone-deaf, and I
cupped my chin hard.
“Yeah, I’m gonna move somewhere where it’s nice all year ‘round. I was
thinking Georgia. I was gonna plant a garden again. Dad always used to say
that Mom loved gardens.” My heart twisted at that and I chuffed softly as the
declaration knocked the air from my lungs. Mateo always had this fantasy
about Mom, but I guess it was easy when Dad would tell him stories about
her. She died before he was a year old, but she was so important to him. “I
gotta go, Oran.”
“Yeah, okay. Call me anytime, Mateo.” I refused to hang up first, and
Mateo stayed on the line for several seconds as I held my breath. Pulling the
device from my ear, I clenched it tightly in my fist and exhaled a shaky
breath. “God damnit.”
32

May
Holding my phone to my ear as I stood in line at the coffee place, I tried not
to clench my butt cheeks, but the prickles zinging up and down my thighs
made it impossible.
“Hello?” Sarah slurred from sleep and I frowned under furrowed brows.
“Sarah, hey. I’m just calling to check on you. I’m sorry for waking you
up.” Strong hands kneaded my shoulders and I glanced back at Oran as his
eyes sparkled brightly behind his glasses. “Okay, so I wanted to talk to you
before I went into work about what we talked about last night.”
“Talk? About Mom and Dad or the less illegal stuff?” The double bed
hotel room we’d been forced to get because of my apartment situation didn’t
charge for phone service, thankfully, and I tilted my head thoughtfully.
Noticeably rustling as she rolled over, my sister groaned into the receiver,
and I switched my phone to my other ear.
“Not about Mom and Dad. I just want you to put some serious thought
into what you want to do with yourself. I’m working on getting a new job
somewhere else, and I already told you we might need to move to another
part of Washington. When I get back, we’ll talk about it some more.” Sarah
was half asleep, I got that, but I was kinda pissed when she just hung up on
me without answering. I was trying to give her some slack, and I huffed
softly as I stuck my phone in my purse. The huge file I now kept on my
person permanently took up almost my entire bag, and Oran squeezed my
shoulders gingerly.
“I’d miss you if you moved.” The murmur close to my ear made my heart
flutter, and I twisted only to wince when the tender flesh on my abdomen
stretched. Satisfaction flashed in Oran’s brown eyes, but I only shook my
head before he spoke up again. “Listen, May, about last night . . . ”
“You’re not gonna say it was a mistake, are you?” The day after was
usually worse, and I reached around to rub my lower back gingerly as Oran
shook his head, his lips thinning. “Good.”
“I don’t regret it in the slightest. I bring it up because Carlyle wants to
take us, and Natasha and her husband, out to dinner. I told him I wouldn’t
bring it up unless I had his word that he was going to sincerely apologize to
you.” I almost rolled my eyes at that, and sourness twisted my expression as
Oran and I shuffled forward with the line. “Please. If there’s two things you
should know about Carlyle, it’s that I have never heard him apologize, not a
single damn time, and he likes sitting in places that shouldn’t be sat on. He’ll
keep his word— he knows he was wrong.”
“I’ll think about it.” This was obviously important to Oran. Otherwise, he
wouldn’t have brought it up. Tapping my bag absently, I bopped my head
side to side before nodding. “Okay, I’ll go, but Sarah comes with us.”
“The more the merrier, but you can’t sneak drinks to her.” Nodding
firmly, I turned back toward the barista as one person stood between me and
my morning coffee, and Oran practically sighed in relief. “Thank you. I
promise, he’s not as bad as he seems. He’s just—”
“An asshole? That’s okay. I totally know where you get the ‘say the
wrong thing at the wrong time’ thing.” Smiling when he squeezed my
shoulders, I savored his palms against my neck, and he rubbed his thumbs
against the back of my skull just under my hairline. “He was right, though—
I was really upset because I didn’t know what could make my parents do that,
but I guess money is a good enough motivator to destroy your family.
Honestly, Sarah may not want to snitch on my parents, but I definitely do.
How’d he know what they were doing, anyway?”
“Carlyle never goes into a situation half-cocked. He’s got the all-seeing
eye of the internet and a really good cyber-terrorist.” My brows rose at that
and Oran shrugged when I glanced back with annoyance flickering on his
face. “He just doesn’t get that looking you up doesn’t actually tell your story.
He was shocked when you just got out of the car. No one has balls like that
with him.”
“Oran, he’s probably exactly as bad as that, you just ignore it because
he’s your brother. I’m going because you said ‘please’, and I want my damn
apology, but he’s . . . he’s not someone I want to associate with.” Oran
accepted that pretty readily, and I stepped to the counter to place my order.
The barista was already ringing me out, and I dug out a ten dollar bill from
my purse and told him to keep the change before stepping out of the way.
“Besides, he seems really pushy.”
“He is.” Ordering before glancing at me, Oran frowned under furrowed
brows, and I reached to tighten my loose bun when the strands tickled my
neck. “You’re probably right.”
 “Speaking of that time he almost kidnapped me, what did your brother
mean about what you didn’t tell me yet?” I didn’t really give myself time to
digest that crazy few minutes, and Oran’s expression tightened. Shuffling to
the pick-up counter, I adjusted my purse on my shoulder and picked at my
plain, white blouse, and his frown deepened.
“I want to discuss that project I commissioned from you. I know you’re at
the point that you can’t do much else on your own, so I was considering
creating a team for you.” My eyes narrowed, and Oran rubbed the back of his
neck as he leaned against the counter lightly. He looked mighty
uncomfortable, to the point it was kinda cute, honestly. “I figured, since
you’re probably going to be out of a job, I should offer. I want this project
done, and you’re already working on it, so . . . ”
“Okay. We can talk about it.” Grabbing my coffee, I waited for Oran to
snatch his before we left the shop, and he slung his arm around my shoulders
leisurely. “HR is still looking into my ‘case’. It’s so stupid. I mean, if they
expect me to quit, they’re gonna be disappointed. I need my severance, and if
they fire me, I can go after them for wrongful termination, and they know it.
That’s why they’re not doing anything.”
“I take it you’re expecting to go to court at some point? You should
know, May . . . ” Walking around the corner, Oran paused next to his car, but
I could see his building from here. The chilly air nipped at my ear lobes as
people poured around us, and he pulled open the back-passenger door for me
before leaning on his forearm on the roof. Sitting my coffee in the holder
pulled out from the middle seat, I turned to him fully as he took a breath in
preparation. “Malory made up a file for me, and the whole subsidiary is
failing. Hard. I don’t know if going after them will get you anything.”
“I appreciate the heads up. And also, thanks for letting me use your car.”
He smiled, reaching to caress my cheek, and I scooted to pull my legs in as
he straightened. “I’ll text you, Oran.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Shutting the door firmly, Oran didn’t wait for us to pull
off before heading for his building, and I hissed as I held myself off the seat
slightly. That gel stuff he’d used only alleviated the pain until it wore off. I
really needed to ask him where he got it.
Sharp, pin-like needle pricks set fire to my legs and lower back, and dread
burrowed in my belly at the idea of sitting all damn day. Groaning softly, I
flopped my head forward and heaved a massive breath, and my palms stuck
to the pleather interior. Despite the sting, or maybe because of it, the residual
pleasure of last night blossomed in my abdomen, and I exhaled slowly
through pursed lips.
33

May
When I stepped off the elevator, the whole office was in a tizzy, and I held
my purse tight under my arm as I glanced around. People were talking loudly,
interns were scurrying around like mice, and curiosity plastered my ribs like
tar. The change from yesterday was startling— nothing unusual had
happened aside from the snubs and jabs from my co-workers.
Today, the world could’ve been ending, and I glanced over the cube farm
as all the teams seemed to be scrambling.
“Jerry, what’s going on?” I don’t know why I asked my team lead
because he never responded with an appropriate amount of detail. Surprise
struck my chest when he actually looked at me, and I frowned under
furrowed brows at the excitement on his face.
“We got a new contract, so the supervisors are in a meeting right now
discussing who to give it to.” Ah, that’s what it was. Everyone’s working.
What a crazy concept. Only nodding, I shuffled to my cube to sit down
gingerly, and I locked up my purse and turned on my station to try to ignore
the commotion. The teams usually made their deadlines, but this was just
stupid, trying to impress for one day when the supervisors know damned well
who milks and who doesn’t.
My phone trilled insistently before my computer fully booted, and I
grabbed the receiver to press the line button.
“Hello. May Hart.”
“May, it’s Jackie from HR. I was hoping to catch you before you jumped
into anything. Can you come downstairs for a few minutes?” I mean, Jackie
didn’t sound like she was preparing to fire me, but I affirmed before hanging
up. Pulling my purse back out, I trudged my stinging ass through the cube
farm, and my legs started to throb despite my loose, long pants. Each faint
brush of the light fabric burned, and I held back a tortured groan as I punched
the elevator button.
Knocking on Jackie’s open door, I clenched and released my jaw as my
nerves sung, and she tore her attention off her screen to smile at me.
Gesturing me in, nothing about her screamed get ready, so I perched on the
edge of the chair opposite her. For a moment, she said nothing, only clicking
around on her computer a few times, and my heart rate steadily increased as
anxiety burrowed in my gut.
“I just have a few things to clarify. This won’t take long.” She printed
something out and I held my breath as Jackie handed me a paper of what
looked like a chat log. “Are these your texts?”
My eyes widened, my stomach just falling into a pit as I scanned the log,
and the blood drained from my face. The number was mine, and I knew
Jackie knew that since it was in my personnel file. Scanning each line, date,
time, and message, I silently shook my head because these weren’t texts, they
just looked like texts.
“Can you prove it?” All of the messages coincided with times I wasn’t in
the office, whether I’d already left for the day, or had called out, or gone to
lunch. I forgot about my physical pain as rage took its place. What the fuck
did I do to deserve this shit? More importantly, who the hell gets this
obsessive about a co-worker?
“Do you honestly care whether or not they’re mine, Jackie?” Clutching
the page tightly, the paper crinkled loudly to tail my question, and I glanced
up as she frowned. “This is stupid. This is getting out of control, and I’m
really fucking tired of getting called down here for nonsense. Okay. Even if I
did text someone how much I hate this job and I was going to shut the place
down and everyone’s gonna get it for being mean to me. Why the fuck would
you end up with it? Who would I text that shit to? If I did, how would they
know you’re the one handling my case unless they worked here? And for that
matter, I don’t know this other number that I’m supposedly texting.”
“I know this is frustrating, May, but . . . ” Standing up, I simply walked
out of her office. I didn’t care if she fired me at this point, and my face
flamed as my eyes ached. Even if I knew how much shit I’d get, I still
would’ve ousted David because that was my work! I poured two years of my
life into this fucking god damn . . . dumb . . . “May!”
“What!” Turning on my heel, I practically screamed in Jackie’s face, and
tears prickled my eyes as my frustration went fully out of control. My purse
hit the floor, and I threw up my hands as she took a shocked step back. “This
is the most insanely stupid shit I’ve ever been through, Jackie! You’re
honestly so incompetent that you didn’t even look up the address of the
computer those messages came from, that you didn’t notice they came from a
computer in the first place? I know you want to get the whole picture before
you make a decision, but fucking Christ, Jackie! Do your due diligence
before calling me down and telling me to prove it!”
I almost spit at her. It wasn’t her fault, she was just doing her job, but I
was so damn pissed off. Shivering with fury, I grabbed my purse and hit the
stairs instead of the elevator back to my floor, and I pushed open the door to
scan the cube farm through narrowed eyes.
If I’m going to be accused of it, I might as well do it. Walking to my desk,
I ground my teeth in an effort to contain myself, and I dug my phone out of
my purse as I gingerly sat in my chair. Uncertainty dinged my chest, but I
eventually just decided to text him rather than call.
May: I just had the craziest 5 minutes
When Oran didn’t reply immediately, I tucked my phone back in my
purse and sat back to heave a massive breath. That was right— this place was
gonna get shut down on its own, with no help from me. This contract that we
picked up might just be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, though.
“May.” I didn’t actually have to do anything, just sit back, kick up my
feet, and watch it all happen. Who was I kidding, anyway? I was going to
take the job Oran offered me, without a doubt. “Hey, May?”
“Huh?” Blinking hard, a deep voice dragged me out of my fantasy, and I
swiveled around to find Mark hovering over me. “Sorry, Mark, I was
thinking too hard. What’s up?”
“Can I talk to you in my office really quick?” I debated how much I
wanted to get out of this chair again, but my curiosity was too strong.
Nodding, I was relieved, at least, that I hadn’t locked up my purse, and I
grabbed it to follow Mark to his office. The other two supervisors were
already taking up the seats, and I had to stand as Mark closed the door. The
air shifted sharply and my mouth dried as expectation simmered in my blood.
“Uh, am I in trouble?” I honestly wasn’t sure anymore, and Mark
surprised me when he shook his head. “Is this about the contract everyone’s
all crazy about?”
“Yes. I’ve been through all of your projects under David, and we’ve been
talking about it since about five a.m. We think you’re the best person to head
the project.” My eyes boggled slightly, and I choked on my own spit as Mark
leaned against his desk to cross his arms over his chest. “You can choose
your own team, but I can’t stress enough how important this contract is, May.
If we lose it for some reason, any reason, we’re all going to be out of a job.”
All the anger I’d just directed at Jackie just fizzled into smoke, and I held
my breath as I waited for Mark to say ‘Sike! You’re fired!’, but the punch line
never came. He stared at me like I was his last hope, and a ghost of a giggle
escaped me at the total absurdity of it. Throwing back my head, I cackled
uncontrollably, and tears sprung to my eyes as my chest tightened painfully.
Clutching my breast, my heart made a bid to break out of my ribs, and I
craned my neck.
I couldn’t breathe and I shook my head wildly, stray strands of hair
escaping my bun to whip my face.
“Oh-h God.“ Hiccupping as my laughter became noiseless wheezing, I
doubled over to bury my face in the side of my purse. The thick, manila
folder inside muffled my laughter, and I made the mistake of glancing up.
The look on Mark’s face sent me overboard, and my sides ached fiercely as
my body strained.
My mirth filled the room with an uncomfortable silence that only grew
more intense when I finally managed to get ahold of myself. Sniffling hard, I
wiped the tears from my eyes, careful of my makeup, and hiccupped a ragged
breath.
“Oh . . . man, you all are screwed, aren’t you?” Mark opened his mouth,
but I held up a hand to stop him, and all that childish glee suddenly left me
empty. “No, I’m serious. Find me one person that wants to work with me
without mentioning the project. Find me a single person on this whole floor
that will even say ‘hi’ to me politely and courteously. Go to anyone and ask
them what they think of me, and if you find one person that doesn’t scrunch
their nose and talk like I’m inferior, I’ll do it. Go ahead. Try to find anyone
that will put up taking orders from me, even for this contract. I’ll give you the
whole day.”
I couldn’t help but giggle as I left the office, and a huge smirk threatened
to tear my cheeks apart. Things were starting to look up after all!
34

Oran
“Carlyle . . . ” Holding my phone to my ear, I shouldered my jacket as I
strolled down the sidewalk, and my brother was infuriatingly quiet on the
other end. “Carlyle, did you hear anything I just said?”
“Yes. I’m just distracted. You can tell her if you want, Oran. You don’t
need permission from me.” Carlyle hung up on me, and I frowned as I glared
at my phone for a long second. Guilt clawed at the back of my throat, and my
cheek twitched when I looked up at the place I was supposed to meet May
smack between our offices. She deserved to know, to make a decision on her
own, and I slid my phone into my jacket pocket quietly.
I hadn’t had time to reply to her texts, but I did get them. Something
happened at her office, but I didn’t know if it was good or bad. Either way, I
couldn’t just put it off anymore.
“Oran! Hey!” She came jogging to me after zooming around the corner,
and I couldn’t help my strained smile at her pink face and puffs of breath.
Swiping back her hair, she smoothed her shirt and adjusted her purse on her
shoulder, and surprise swept through me when she grabbed my arm. “You’ll
never guess what happened to me earlier. Right after I got in, I got called
down to HR, and I blew up on Jackie, but that’s not the great thing. Mark and
the supervisors had a meeting this morning about a potentially company-
saving contract we won, and they want me to lead a team on it!”
The first thing to hit me was confusion, and I barked a humorless laugh as
May practically dragged me into the little Korean place. This hole in a wall
was pretty packed, but we were seated almost immediately since it was just
the two of us. Sliding into the chair across from me, May practically beamed,
her smile bright and happy and excited, and I arched my brows suggestively.
“And? What did you say?” She wiggled her shoulders and set her purse
on the table, and I propped my elbow to hold my chin on my fist.
“I politely told them to fuck off.” Snorting a laugh at how proud May
sounded, I watched her gingerly reposition herself to place both her hands flat
on the table. “No, I did. I told them that if they could find one person that
could stand taking orders from me, I’d do it. They won’t, of course. I know
they won’t be able to. They ended up giving the project to Jerry’s team
anyway, probably because I’m on it. But Jerry already gave me the whole
spiel about how I wasn’t allowed to do anything at all so I don’t ruin it. So,
oh well, not my problem. Maybe they should’ve nipped this hostility in the
bud, and I wouldn’t have laughed in their faces when they asked me.”
“I’m glad you were able to give them a piece of your mind, May. Do you
want to come over tonight to celebrate?” May started to nod before pursing
her lips, and my eyebrows lowered as she puffed out her lips.
“I have to go to the hotel and be with Sarah for a couple hours. I promised
her we’d spend some time together and look for some volunteering or
something she can do.” Physically deflating at her own confession, May
frowned fully as she tried not to slouch back in her chair. A tickle of pride
wormed through my chest, but now was definitely not the time to gloat. “I
can’t take her to South Carolina, and I don’t know how to tell her. There’s
just no way I can go.”
“You shouldn’t sacrifice your relationship with your sister for a man.”
Relief slumped her shoulders, and May nodded firmly as I tilted my head.
“So, I was wondering, May, would it surprise you at all that I do business
with some . . . unsavory . . . characters?”
“Uh, not particularly. Why?” Indecision warred in my chest. Did I want
to bring down her mood right now? I’ll tell her another time.
“I ask because if you’re going to be heading your own company, we’re
gonna have to talk about the kids of people who would buy this kind of thing.
Inevitably, boats attract the bad kind of people.” Of course, I did want to have
this conversation with May because it was true, customers were still
customers. She arched a brow quizzically, and I lowered my arm to drum my
fingers on the tabletop. “Especially with shallow, coastal vessels. The Coast
Guard does not regulate them if they never leave our waters. If, say, someone
commissions you for a ship, and uses it to transport drugs or something . . . ”
Trailing off, my eyes narrowed on her expression as a crease rumpled
between her slender eyebrows, and May puffed out her lips slightly in
thought. The waitress arrived beside us, giving her some time to think on it,
but I had been here enough to know what I wanted. Scanning the menu, May
eventually ordered the same thing, and the waitress bounced off with the
promise to bring us our drinks curtly.
“Okay, but what does that have to do with me? Whatever they do with the
boats, it’s not my problem. I just design and build them. Anything they do
after they leave the dry-dock is not my responsibility.” Nodding firmly,
satisfied, I sat back to stare at May, and her face gradually tinted red, the
same red as her hair. “What?”
“I know things aren’t smooth right now, but I want you to know, May, I
really enjoy my time with you.” She blushed ferociously, and I reached
across the table to hold her hand, rubbing the top of her palm with my thumb.
Averting her eyes, May tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and a
smile crested my cheeks. “I’d like to take you out sometime, whenever
you’re available.”
“I’d like that, Oran.” My smile widened, and May turned her palm to
tangle our fingers together sweetly. Her sparkling, green eyes met mine, and
for just a second, everything else disappeared from my field of
comprehension. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Good.” I wanted to grab her face and kiss her. I wanted to take her to
some expensive island resort and show her the time of her life. She smiled
with a little giggle before I cleared my throat. “So, about—"
“Oran!” Cutting me off, the feminine voice wasn’t May’s. I glanced up as
she twisted. Natasha strode over to our table, all smiles, but kept a good few
feet between us even as she wiggled her fingers in a wave. “Hi . . . hey.
What’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Natasha, you look a lot better than the last time I saw you. How’s the
meds?” She waved a ‘so-so’ gesture, and I pointed at May as a guy I didn’t
recognize came up behind Natasha. “This is May. May, this is Natasha, my
brother’s girlfriend’s sister.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” May popped up from her seat, and anxiety
gripped my insides until they sort of awkwardly hugged lightly. “I’ve heard a
little about you.”
“Well, Oran and I don’t really know each other at all, so I haven’t heard
anything about you.” The caution of their first meeting tainted the air, and
Natasha nodded almost to herself as May pulled an amused expression. “Do
you mind if we sit with you? I read some great reviews online about this
place. We’re slowly but surely making our way through every restaurant we
can.”
“Um, sure?” Looking to me, determination set May’s face as I tilted my
head, and Natasha sat on the other side of her. Pushing myself out of my seat,
I held out my hand for her husband, or who I assumed was her husband,
because we hadn’t been introduced.
 “I’m Oran, Carlyle’s brother.”
“Erik.” The guy was intimidating. Even just shaking his hand made me
very aware never to get into a fight with him. I gestured to the seat next to
me. The waitress came back around, two glasses in hand, but she didn’t miss
a beat before taking more drink orders. “Did you order already?”
“Yeah, the best thing on the menu is the Korean beef sticks. I’d suggest
starting with that since it’s your first time here.” It was the strangest thing,
knowing Natasha but not knowing her, and I turned to her as she shuffled her
chair a little ways away from the table. Her elbow hung off the edge, and I bit
back a grimace before opening my mouth. “So, I take it you’re doing a little
better? It’s been a few weeks.”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s been almost five months since my heart attack, and I
haven’t had another one, so I take that as doing better.” She talked about it
like it was no big deal, and May went a little wide-eyed as her gaze snapped
to Natasha. “What about you? How have you been since New York?”
“I’m finding my way. Congratulations on getting married, by the way.
How was it?” Natasha shrugged half-heartedly, and Erik drew my attention
when he chuckled fondly across from her.
“It was a drive-thru place in Vegas. Faster service than McDonalds.” May
sat quietly, looking as uncomfortable as I felt, and I nodded as Erik turned to
me with narrowed eyes. “I’m glad you’re not an asshole like your brother.”
The frostiness disappeared at that, and I couldn’t help but laugh as May
giggled with a furious shake of her head. The atmosphere around our table
became a little more relaxed, and I grabbed my lemon water without really
replying.
“Carlyle . . . Carlyle’s an acquired taste, for sure. May just met him for a
minute and a half the other day, and he already owes her an apology.” The
admission turned the attention on her, and May frowned even as her face
scrunched in irritation. She launched right into reiteration, in painful detail,
how Carlyle ‘almost kidnapped’ her, and I sat back to watch her talk
animatedly.
I’ll tell her another time. There’s no reason to ruin this.
35

May
Stepping out of the bathroom, I glanced over at Sarah’s bed as she hunched
over my laptop, completely absorbed in whatever she was looking at.
Twisting my towel around my hair, I glanced around the double bed hotel
room in distaste and sat on my own twin mattress.
“What are you looking at?” Posing the question as she moused around the
touch pad, I leaned over to glance at the screen. Apartment listings, some not
even in Seattle, splayed on the display, and my sister turned the laptop to me
as she clicked on one. “Why are you looking at this stuff? I thought you were
job searching.”
“You don’t really have time to search, so I decided to do it.” Blinking
slowly, I only hummed in acknowledgment, but my heart squeezed with
affection. Sarah grumbled, still shameful about what happened to the
apartment, and I shuffled to sit on her bed next to her before she spoke up
again. “Uh, so, I mean, I was going to talk to you about it when I narrowed it
down. I figured you’d want to get an apartment rather than have a mortgage,
so . . . ”
“That’s really nice. You’re right— I really haven’t had time, and this
hotel room is starting to lose its appeal. Did you see anything you like?”
Shaking her head, my sister slumped back against the headboard to bluster a
sigh, and I patted her knee reassuringly. “I know I said some things, Sarah,
but I love you. I think you have such great potential. To be honest, I’m
starting to think I’m not going to get sued up the butt considering I haven’t
been served yet. I think the owner is just getting everything in order to sue
me, but it hasn’t happened yet. I’ll take that.”
“You know, no offense, but you’re really dense, May.” My brows rose,
eyes widening in surprise as I frowned, and Sarah puffed a breath. “Isn’t it
obvious that the reason you haven’t gotten served or whatever is because
Oran paid everyone off? I mean, the dude’s obviously loaded, and it’s been
weeks. The whole place has to get torn down, and you know someone has to
pay for that.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, my jaw unhinging slightly, and Sarah frowned
deeper as she crossed her arms over her chest. My mind emptied from the
unexpectedness of her observation, and I leaned back as my towel wrap
tugged my hair.
“He’s rich. He can probably throw money around and never run out. I bet
rebuilding that place wouldn’t even require a second thought.” Sarah didn’t
say it as a bad thing, but, obviously, it made her incredibly guilty, and I
clicked my teeth together absently. Shuffling to lean back, shoulder to
shoulder, I held her hand tightly, and she just huffed loudly.
“Sarah, sometimes we need help. I didn’t know how to help you and look
what happened. You were so bored, and I tried to do things my way and
failed, so I didn’t try again. If you’re right, then throwing money around is
just Oran’s way of helping. He’s got enough of the stuff, and you’re right—
it’s not bad in itself, it just makes us feel like freeloaders. And even that isn’t
bad. We’ll get back on our feet.”
“I wish I never heard Dad complaining about Mom’s wild spending.” A
grimace painted my face, but I knew there was nothing I could say to Sarah
to make her feel better. One conversation was apparently all it took for her
life to turn upside down. No wonder she felt like it was her fault for hearing
it. She could’ve walked away, but she didn’t. That was her rationale.
But this mess wasn’t her fault, and I still hadn’t decided to rat my parents
out or just leave it be. Chances were, they’d be found out at some point,
anyway. Just how long would that take? And would Sarah be able to recover
from the fact that our parents just pushed her out for no real reason? Money
wasn’t a good enough incentive, and it was pretty clear they were using it as
a scapegoat.
Sarah struggled in school. There were lots of meetings and PTCs and tons
of options, but regular school, she just couldn’t do it.
“I don’t know what I can say to make it better, Sarah, but I’ll always be
there for you, even when I’m pissed at you. It’s gonna take a lot of
adjustment, but we can do it. I know we can.” Leaning on my shoulder, Sarah
tightened her grip on my hand, and I rested my cheek on her crown as I
wiggled and wormed my laptop onto my lap. “Let’s keep looking.”
“Aren’t you going out with Oran?” Waving off her concern, I reached to
grab my phone and swipe the screen open.
“It’s optional. This is important. I mean, we kinda need a place to live. I
can always go out with him another time.” Shooting Oran a text as I spoke, I
set my phone down again to unfurl our fingers, and I moseyed the mouse
around the screen absently. “So, you haven’t seen anything you like?”
“I don’t know. I liked our old apartment, the layout of it. I thought it was
important to stay downtown, too.” Smiling lightly, I scrolled down the
listings as Sarah spoke, and she pointed at one on the screen before
continuing. “This one says it’s right on the water. That’s cool.”
We browsed the listings, nothing too serious but taking notes of what we
liked and disliked, for almost half an hour before my phone rang. Without
looking at the caller I.D., I answered the call and held my phone to my ear,
and Sarah took over the mouse pad.
“Hey, Oran. What’s up?” But the voice on the other line wasn’t Oran, and
the hairs on the back of my neck bristled as my mom huffed loudly in my ear.
“Mom, what the hell do you want? I told you not to call me anymore.”
“Yeah, I know, but how are we supposed to smooth things over if you
won’t be reasonable, May?” I started to get up to go to the bathroom, but
Sarah grabbed my arm, and I frowned when she shook her head. Irritation
swelled in my chest, and I scoffed lightly as I put the call on speaker and held
it to my chin.
“Okay, explain how I’m being unreasonable for being mad at you for
laundering and embezzling and kicking Sarah out even though she wasn’t
going to snitch, Mom.” No matter what way I tried to spin it in my head,
there was absolutely no way I was overreacting. My mom sighed heavily, and
my eyelid twitched as the sound gyrated against my brain.
“May, we sent her to Seattle with you for the opportunities it gave her.
I’ve already explained that. Several times. No one is doing anything illegal,
and we wouldn’t kick her out even if we were. I thought it would help Sarah,
and you two always had a great relationship.” Mom really believes what she’s
saying. Honestly, I was speechless— there was no arguing with her at this
point. My mom so firmly believed her lies, had told them to herself so many
times, that there was nothing to argue, anymore. “But, anyway, I wanted to
talk to you about that man you brought by the house.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, are you gonna tell me to break up with him because he
has tattoos?” Sarah let me go and I climbed off the bed to turn off the speaker
and hold it to my ear. “Mom, I’m not going to break up with him over the
tattoos. I actually like them, you know.”
Shutting myself in the bathroom, I sat heavily on the toilet and clenched
my free hand hard to stop myself from scratching the itch engulfing my
thighs and butt in fire.
 “It’s not just about the tattoos, May. That guy is trouble. It’s written all
over him. I bet he doesn’t even need those glasses. You can’t trust a guy who
lies about little things like that.” Holding my forehead in my palm, I groaned
loudly, but my mom only sucked her teeth at me. “I’m telling you, May, he’s
no good. Whatever he’s up to is bad, and you shouldn’t get dragged into it.”
“What’s his name?” I had just said Oran’s name not forty-five seconds
ago, and my mom hesitated at my question. “Mom, what’s his name, huh?”
“What does that have to do with anything? I know a bad apple when I see
it.” Closing my eyes as I sighed in frustration, I couldn’t help but wonder
why my mom thought this was appropriate. For that matter, why the fuck did
she think I’d consider her opinion? Oran and I were dating, and nowhere in
there did my mom have any right to butt in.
Besides, I’d dated guys with tattoos before, and she never had a problem
with any of them.
“Mom, I’m not breaking up with him, and you’re not going to change my
mind just because your fucked-up sense of intuition sputtered to life. What
the Hell did you think was going to happen when you started this
conversation? That I’d just fall over myself to do what you say? No, you have
no say on my life. You have less of a say on my life than you do on Sarah’s,
okay. I’m hanging up. If you call me again, I’ll go to the FBI and report you
for what you’re doing.”
Did the FBI even handle this kind of shit? I didn’t know, but when I hung
up, I hoped my mom took my threat seriously enough not to chance it. It’d
also confirm that my mom knew what was going on was illegal, and she lied
about that shit, too.
“Hey, Sarah.” Popping my head out of the bathroom, I forced a smile
when Sarah raised her upset eyes to me. “Let’s go shopping.”
36

May
Swiveling in my chair, I gazed at the pink slip on my desk declaring loud and
proud that I’d been fired. I’d expected it after my blowing up on Jackie,
laughing in Mark’s face, and generally being a bitch the past week. Hell, I’d
even come in an hour late with no call today because it was Monday, and I
had spent all weekend making sure Sarah had an alright birthday.
She was upset we couldn’t go to South Carolina, but there were plenty of
cool stuff here in Seattle. Oran had even gotten her a gift, which had been
sweet of him since they didn’t really know each other. Honestly, it was all a
blur because I’d been tipsy the whole time, knowing what was in store for me
today.
Everyone in the office knew before I even walked off the elevator that I
was being terminated, but the snide comments I expected to receive were
quiet. The atmosphere was somber, and I picked up the thin paper slip to read
the reasoning for my firing.
There were several, but ‘creates a hostile work environment’ was the first
one.
“Of course.” Wagging the slip, I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth
to nibble absently. Why was I still sitting here, staring at this stupid, pink
paper, when I could be heading back to the hotel to celebrate? I had a
replacement job, I had every single cent that I’d gotten from David’s fake
bonus, and I was leaving a shitty company for something so much better.
Pushing myself out of my chair, I shouldered my purse and checked
inside to make sure I had everything. I didn’t want to come back here, and I
checked every drawer. Digging my phone out of my purse on the way
through the aisle to the edge of the cube farm, I navigated my way to Oran’s
contact to press the little, green phone icon.
“Ah, so it happened, huh?” His smirk shone in his tone, and I hugged the
wall as someone breezed past me, not even bothering to look down on me.
“Yeah. I don’t know what happened. Suddenly, it’s like I’m not even
worth disdain. It’s kind of insulting, honestly. They put all this effort in
there.” I spoke loudly, earning me some fierce glares as I walked toward the
elevator, but I only glared back. “Must suck that all anyone can do here is
hate on other people.”
“Or, there could be another explanation. That contract your subsidiary
won pulled out.” I paused mid-step and Oran chuckled with malicious glee as
my brows nearly flew right off my forehead and into space. “They wanted
you to head it, and since you won’t, they pulled out. I found out Friday, but I
didn’t want to ruin your sister’s birthday and steal her attention.”
“Oh, shit, no way.” That’s why everyone was so gloomy— they were
going to be out of a job. A huge, shit-eating grin stretched across my face,
and I added a pep to my step when I started walking toward the elevator
again. “Wow. That’s awesome. I guess I’m better than I thought!”
“Calm down, there, Kanye.” Giggling at that, I punched the button on the
elevator and rocked back on my heels, a huge relief lifting the weights on my
shoulders. Or maybe it’s not relief but gratification. Fuck this place.
“Technically speaking, you’re still unemployed at the moment. I have all the
paperwork ready, you just need to come in and sign it. Then, you have to find
employees, and I doubt you’d want to poach anyone.”
“Hell no, it’s okay. I’m going to contact some of my friends from college.
I had a roommate that was a financing major, and I made friends in my
classes. Honestly, I haven’t had a lot of time since graduating to hang out. I
hope they don’t take it personal.” Stepping onto the elevator when the doors
slid quietly open, I thumbed the ground floor button with a slight huff.
College seemed like it happened so much longer than a year ago. “Especially
after all the crap with Sarah, I stopped partying and stuff and never had any
time.”
“I have faith that things are looking up for you, May.” Leaning on the
wall, I smiled at the fondness in his tone, as if he really believed that. “Are
you going to head back to the hotel room and search for apartments with
Sarah?”
“Ah, not yet. I have some errands to run, so I’ll be milling around
downtown. I also have a list of places that aren’t too out of my way, so I
thought I’d go be nosy and look in windows and creep and stuff.” The
elevator jostled to a stop, and I glanced up only to freeze like a deer in the
headlights when Jackie stepped into the metal box. “Uh, I gotta go.”
Hanging up on Oran before he had a chance to reply, I clutched my phone
to my chest as Jackie crossed her arms over her chest and gazed steadily at
me. I hadn’t talked to or seen her since I yelled at her, and now that I wasn’t
upset, I felt really bad about it. My mouth dried the longer the silence buzzed
in my ears, and I was going to force it open until she suddenly started
giggling hysterically.
“Oh . . . oh man. You . . . you look so nervous, ah . . . ” Flames licked up
my neck, and I let out an embarrassed squeak as Jackie reached to nudge my
arm. “Relax, May. I don’t hold what happened last week against you.
Honestly, I would yell at me too if I had to go through that circus bull. It’s
not easy, working in such a toxic place.”
“You’re not mad?” Shaking her head as we went down, Jackie smiled
fondly, and I scrunched my face in confusion. “Why? I said some really nasty
stuff.”
“You were right, though. I didn’t do my job by not checking into those
messages, and I knew there was no way you’d have a response because you
didn’t write them. I knew you didn’t. And you were right, May— unless
someone wanted me to have them, they would’ve never come across my
desk.” Awkwardness clenched my gut, and I only nodded at that. At least,
when I was angry, I didn’t resort to personal attacks and stuck to facts . . .
sorta.
“I am. I’m sorry that I called you incompetent. I was just really mad and
tired, and you were doing your job.” Jackie nodded, and relief slumped my
shoulders as I sighed dramatically. “Okay, good. I actually am starting my
own design company. If you don’t have any concrete job, maybe we could
talk about working together?”
“I would be honored, May. Here . . . ” Digging in her purse, Jackie pulled
out a business card and pen to scribble her personal number on the back.
“Here’s my number. I don’t know how good a boss you’ll be, but you were a
great employee. I’m actually on my way to an interview, but text me. I’ll
answer.”
“Yeah, for sure.” Taking the card, I smiled at that very blatantly neutral
answer, and the elevator stopped again. The doors slid open, and I gestured
her out first before stepping into lobby. Our company only owned two floors
of this twenty-story building, smack in the middle, but, pretty soon, those
floors would be empty.
Jackie and I parted ways, and I quickly swiped around on my phone for
Oran’s number to call him back. The line rang once, twice, three times before
he picked up, and I heaved a massive sigh on my way onto the street.
“That was really awkward. I just had an elevator ride alone with the
person from HR on my case. I actually asked for her number in case I wanted
to hire her. That’s the weirdest . . . ” The wind nipped at my cheeks, and I
held my light jacket tighter to my bust as I strode down the sidewalk. “Sorry
for hanging up on you.”
“It’s alright. I have a meeting in a few minutes but have fun with your
down time. I’ll see you later, May.” I offered a noncommittal response before
we hung up again, mutually, this time, and I swept back my hair absently.
Celebratory shopping, here I come!
37

Oran
“Malory, where the hell is my two o’clock?” Malory shook her head but
didn’t lift her nose from her computer screen, and I tapped the lip of her desk.
If she had those blonde curls hanging at her knees, she wouldn’t be visible,
but my attention didn’t sit on that too long. “Do I have anything else to do
today?”
“Uh-h, that was your last appointment. I actually didn’t schedule anything
deliberately because I have a four o’clock at the nail salon, so dock me. It’s
worth it.” Grunting absently, I shuffled to the elevator and ran my hands
through my hair, taking a huge breath as I rocked back on my heels. Now
what was I supposed to do with my day?
May was busy, and I didn’t exactly have friends. I could just go to the
mall and browse, but what could I buy? Anything wasn’t a good enough
answer.
Stepping into the elevator, I set my mind on that, and my mind turned to
the possibilities. May had really enjoyed the gift I got her, and I held my
breath as I dove down thirty-one floors.
“Oran.” I barely stepped out of the elevator when Sarah was all up in my
face, and surprise dried my mouth. Her grey-green eyes were wide, and I
automatically looked around through narrowed eyes when she grabbed my
hand. “I need your help. This guy has been following me for, like, three
blocks, and the security guard in here didn’t let him in, but I knew you
worked here, so I asked the rec—”
“Shh-shh, relax, Sarah. You’re talking really fast. Who’s been following
you for three blocks?” She wasn’t sweating or freaking out hyperventilating.
The only indication she was scared was how she spewed out words a mile a
minute. My chest tightened when she pointed at the doors, and I frowned as
some creep practically had his face against the glass. “Okay, just breathe.
We’re gonna walk out— you and me.”
“What? We can’t go out there. That creep was practically breathing down
my neck. I could feel him on my neck.” Clenching my jaw, I was suddenly
glad I’d left my jacket upstairs, and I started rolling up my sleeves absently.
Sarah squeaked in shock, and I caught her gaze to crack what I hoped was a
reassuring smile. “Are you gonna fight him?”
“Did you call May?”
“She was in a changing room across downtown.” Jesus, at least today
wasn’t going to be boring. “Oran, are you seriously gonna fight him?”
“Yes.” Grabbing her arm, I practically had to drag Sarah to the door, and
agitation gorged my muscles. “Sarah, if you don’t trust me, someone’s going
to call the cops on me and not that dick, alright?”
“A-alright. Okay.” She inhaled through flared nostrils, and I pursed my
lips thinly as I turned back to the door. The guy loitering outside wasn’t
creeping looking, per say, but following someone for three blocks in this part
of town, it just didn’t happen coincidentally. He probably skated by on his
solid six looks and slicked back brown hair but he reminded me of the creeps
I’d met with under my father.
Pushing open the door, I silently debated my options as walked over to
him. He had a good amount of confidence, enough not to run away, and rage
blossomed in my chest.
“Are we going to have an issue?” For once in my life, I wished I got a
little more of my dad in me, and this asshole actually smirked at me lightly.
He slunk off down the wide steps and onto the sidewalk, and I took Sarah’s
bicep again to glance at her. “If you ever see that guy again, call the cops.”
“Thank you, Oran.” We walked around the block before Sarah spoke up,
and I glanced down to find her a lot more relaxed in the face. Her eyes were
more grey than green, now, and she actually smiled gratefully up at me. “I
appreciate it. Again.”
“Of course, Sarah. Do you want to go grab a bite to eat? We can go to
Hansen’s.” Snorting a laugh, Sarah nodded happily, and I ran my hand
through my hair as I let her arm go. “So, you’re seventeen now. Are you
going to try for your license?”
This girl mattered so much to May, but I’d never even seen her aside
from that one time at Hansen’s. Everything I knew about Sarah came from
May, and she seemed so different, now. Maybe, it was just the situation, and
she smiled so brightly now as she nodded excitedly.
“Yeah, yeah. May says she’ll go half on a beater for me, and insurance. I
just have to pass the test on the first try. I took my permit test about six
months ago so I could go for my license, and May is gonna pay for driving
school- I already signed up.” Sarah talked and talked, and talked some more,
and I nodded as I paid more attention to the excitement in her tone than her
words. “I just need a job, now, so I can pay for everything else. I’ve been
looking, but no luck yet.”
“I can always pull a string if you ever want to choose the easy way,
Sarah.” I don’t know why I offered, but she shook her head before I even
finished. “Determination doesn’t always pay out.”
“Yeah, but it feels damn good when it does.” Arching a brow curiously, I
paused when Sarah stopped walking, and she stuffed her hands into her
pockets to cock her head. “I told May I wasn’t going to tell on our parents,
but I already did. Right after they sent me to Seattle.”
“Ah, so, that’s why they were so uppity.” She shrugged, and I frowned as
Sarah huffed softly. “Why did you lie to May?”
“Because I fuck up . . . a lot . . . and I wasn’t sure if I made the right
choice. It’s like, the obvious things, they’re not obvious to me. My parents
didn’t just argue about my mom’s hideous spending habits. She was trying to
convince my dad to take ‘more jobs’ by someone from something called the
Syndicate.” My heart sputtered at that, and I ground my teeth as Sarah
trudged on with her story, not realizing the significance of what she’d said.
“Even though I reported it, nothing ever happened to them. I don’t know if
it’s because someone covered it up, or it just takes a long time to actually get
to it.”
“Was that the first time you’ve ever heard of that name, Syndicate?”
Sarah shook her head, and we started walking again as my mind worked
furiously. “It’s a good thing you didn’t say anything, Sarah. That group is
dangerous, and it’s even better that your parents forced you out. You won’t
be targeted when they target your parents.”
Pushing my glasses up my nose, I glanced over at her as she frowned, her
brows furrowing tightly. Sarah looked a lot like May, but a tiny bit more . . .
‘butch’, for lack of a better term. She had broader shoulders, was thicker
around the waist and had a rounder face.
But Sarah was just a kid being punished for something she had no idea
about. Actually, it was a lot like Mateo’s situation, but grossly simplified, of
course.
“When they target my parents.” I kept my mouth shut on that, and Sarah’s
frown saddened out of the corner of my eye. “Did you know that with my
diagnosis, I lack empathy? Unless someone is right in front of me, they don’t
matter at all. Even if they are in front of me, they still don’t matter much. I
don’t think I’d be sad if my parents got some really hard karma, they made it
pretty damn clear how they feel about me, you know?”
“Yeah, I do, actually. My father is a sociopath— he can’t feel empathy at
all. He’s really selfish, really vein, really stubborn and strong headed, and he
can’t feel anything nice. He can fake it really well, though. So well that we
didn’t really know about it until a couple years ago.” Rubbing the back of my
neck as we turned a corner, I gazed at the huge Hansen’s sign rising up above
all the others. “You should call May and let her know where we’re going,
Sarah.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay.” Sarah started patting her jean pockets to whip out her
phone, and I paused our trek when she looked up at me with those same eyes
as her sister. Warmth suffused my chest, and I reached to pat her shoulder as
her nervousness finally seeped away completely. “Thank you, again. I . . . to
be honest, I really don’t know this city all that well.”
“You’re welcome, again, Sarah.” She might’ve lacked empathy due to her
mild autism, but Sarah wasn’t fucking stupid. There were plenty of ways for
girls to just disappear, and Sarah was a very pretty girl. “Call your sister.”
Pulling my own phone out of my pants pocket, I swiveled my thumbs
over the screen before navigating my way to my contacts.
38

May
“Is it true you covered my tab with the apartment and the tenants, and that’s
why I’m not getting sued to hell and back?” The question rolled lazily off my
tongue, but that was exactly what Oran would do, and he didn’t hesitate to
nod absently. Crawling to sprawl across his lap, I pursed my lips thinly as I
stared up at him, and his fingers burrowed in my hair to rub my scalp
gingerly. Today hadn’t been too bad, my freak out in the women’s changing
room at Ruffle’s aside, and I reached to take off his glasses before speaking
up. Best Oran can’t see the embarrassment on my face. “I was wonder . . .
hoping, really . . . that I could ask for a favor. I promise, I won’t make a habit
of it, and I’ll pay you back once my business takes off-“
“Whatever it is, May, I’ll do it. No hesitation.” My lips quirked up as my
cheeks flamed, and discomfort tightened my chest at Oran’s absolute
determination. His eyes found my face, and I was really glad I’d taken his
glasses off as I licked my lips nervously.
“Would you mind helping me put a down payment on a house? I have the
bonus that you gave me during the audit, but I don’t want to be stuck with a
massive mortgage.” Oran’s eyes narrowed, but I knew he still couldn’t see
me, and I gulped harshly as fire engulfed my entire head. “I hate asking, but
since we’re already essentially homeless, I figured why not. Apartments are
cheaper than mortgages, but I have way more than just the twenty percent.”
“Are you asking me to move in with you, May?” His tone was so tender
that I nodded stupidly, and Oran smirked lightly as he scratched my crown
gingerly. “Sure, I would love to. What happened to creeping on apartments?”
For a long moment, I didn’t answer as firecrackers danced in ecstasy in
my rib cage, and I rolled over to bury my face in Oran’s hard abs. The smell
of him flooded my brain, and he caressed my face and neck as I wrapped my
arms around his waist. In this scant few seconds of the day, things were just
perfect, and my life wasn’t falling apart at the seams.
“I’m falling in love with you.” My eyelids fluttered closed as a huge
weight I didn’t know I carried lifted from my chest, and Oran tensed at my
murmur. Hugging him tighter as his hand froze on my cheek, I nuzzled his
taut muscles through his shirt with a sigh. Seconds ticked by slowly before he
palmed my cheek and took a deep breath, and colors popped behind my lids.
“May.” Oran’s smile shone in his voice, and he stroked my cheek with his
thumb as he relaxed against my forehead. “I was caught the moment we met
when you hunted me down on the sidewalk. You’re the highlight of my day,
but there’s something I should confess.”
That familiar lilt in his tone gyrated painfully against my ears, and I
stilled as Oran threaded his fingers through my hair. Oran went quiet, as if he
was working up the courage to just say it and be over with whatever it was.
Anxiety flooded my veins- what he was married or something? What if he
confessed something I couldn’t get over?
What if he lied at some point about something unforgivable?
“I never saw a future with Kara. She came to me for protection, and I
protected her. I’ve been in a few relationships in my life, but none of them
were true, truly pleasurable just being what they were. Kara was different,
worse, I suppose, because she was innocent. She’d told me on several
occasions that Roquelle was bad news, but I was the one who didn’t listen.”
Holding my breath, my heart thundered against the bars of its cage as I
waited for the ball to drop. I already knew all of this, but Oran took a
shuddering breath in preparation. His palm on my cheek was cold and
clammy, and blood drummed in my ears, muted by his voice when he
continued. “I couldn’t protect her from the worst threat— me. It was the most
devastating event I’ve ever caused. All because, when it was said and done, I
had two options— Kara could suffer cripplingly for the rest of her life or it
could be quick and gentle. She didn’t say it out loud, but it was the merciful
thing to do. I strangled her with my own two hands.”
My heart almost stopped completely at the grave confession, and Oran’s
palms left me cold and confused and, honestly, kinda scared. So shocked, my
mind couldn’t even conjure questions, force my muscles to recoil, make me
scream and run out, and he flung his head back against the sofa with a
noticeable thump when it hit the wooden support.
“She wouldn’t have lived long, anyway— a week or two at most— what
was I supposed to do? I let that happen, and she was going to keep suffering
for it? When I could just . . . just end it? Kara and I had been together so long
that I j-just couldn’t . . . ” His voice crackled harshly, and my lungs screamed
for air as flames shriveled and burned me up inside. “If I had listened to her
about Roquelle, Kara and her friends would still be alive. I betrayed her trust.
Everything I did up until that point, it was all for nothing. In the end, she
ended up just like she would’ve with her husband. And I looked into her eyes
as I wrapped my hands around her neck, and she . . . she was s-so happy.”
Oran, this force that seemed so rock solid, trailed off with a croak, and I
cracked an eye open as my brain puttered into action. I didn’t dare look at his
face, and he turned away from me when I sat up to straddle his waist. His
apartment faded into white, and I hugged him to bury my face deep in the
crook of his neck. The furiousness of his pulse beat against my forehead, and
his breath shuddered against my chest as his heat seared through his shirt and
mine.
“How could I have been so ignorant? Why wasn’t she angry? Why didn’t
she fight? She was just happy . . . happy that it was me. How?” Oran’s jaw
ticked wildly against my temple, and the fine hairs on my face bristled
painfully when something wet dripped onto my cheek. “How could I tell her I
was sorry . . . when I wasn’t? I was so, so, so angry at myself for being such
a pompous dick that I . . . I ignored someone whose opinion should’ve
mattered. I didn’t have the room to feel bad for her when I felt so disgusting
about myself.”
He shook his head, reaching over my arms to wipe his face with a
massive bluster of a sigh, and Oran sunk deep into the sofa. When it became
clear he was done talking, I tried to get my mind organized, but nowhere in
the dense fog did my groping reveal horror. Of course, it was a horrible
event, but I personally didn’t relate. Obviously, Oran was so damn torn up
about what happened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed sharply before he
suddenly spoke up again.
“My therapist asked me a few weeks ago why I talk like my problems
aren’t my problems. And I think that’s because I’m not the same man that I
was when that happened. In that moment, watching Kara’s eyes go red and
her face and feeling that . . . her . . . ” His chest stuttered as he cut himself off,
and he inhaled a ragged breath, as if trying to use air to hold down his sobs.
My heart ached for him, and I tightened my grip on him as his arms fell on
either side of me. “I stopped being that person. I don’t want to be that person.
I killed that person when I killed Roquelle. But it haunts me, May, and
there’s times when I’m so, so, so ashamed.”
“That’s the important thing, Oran.” My voice scratched my throat
painfully, and tears pricked my eyes as I squeezed him between my knees.
Slithering my arms under his head, I held the back of Oran’s head and ran my
hands through his hair soothingly, and his own crept up my back to lock me
against him. “You’re ashamed. That means something to me.”
“You should run and not look back.” Even as he said that, Oran’s grip on
me turned to iron, stiff and unyielding, and I arched to press flush against
him. Even through our clothes, he was so hot, and I shook my head as words
failed me. “I could kill you, too. You should run away.”
The strangest, most calming sensation possible flooded every nerve in my
body at that when any sane girl would high tail it out of here. Oran wasn’t
telling me this as a warning, no matter what he said, and I couldn’t take it as
one. He wasn’t telling me to expose how awful he was, how many red flags
he owned, or trying to drive me away.
No . . . he was trying to draw me closer the only way he knew how. Oran
was sharing with me the most traumatic experience of his life, telling me
things he didn’t even tell his therapist, I’d bet. He was laying it all bare and
giving me the choice, the reasons I should leave him. If he could kill
someone else, he could kill me, too.
“No, you can’t, Oran.” The assuredness with which I spoke, the absolute
rock-solid certainty in my tone, was his breaking point, and Oran quietly
began to cry as my heart tore to shreds.
39

May
Cracking my eyes open, I rolled heavily onto my side only to hit more bed,
and my heart leaped into my throat. Sitting up sharply, panic slammed
against my eye sockets, and I threw off the blanket to rush down the stairs.
My brain only caught up with my body when I skid to a stop in the kitchen,
and Oran frowned at me as he and his brother stood by the coffee maker.
“Oh, my God, you scared me.” Relief forced the air from my lungs, and I
rubbed my face with both my palms and sniffed hard. “Why are you up so
early? What time is it?”
“It’s past noon. I thought you deserved to sleep in. May . . . ” Clearing his
throat, Oran tilted his head at me, and I frowned. Glancing down under
furrowed brows, I sucked a sharp breath at the nothing currently covering my
body, and I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. At least I’m wearing
panties . . . nude-colored panties.
“Wait, it’s past noon?” My head snapped up, eyes narrowing on the clock
on the stove, and I scrunched up my face in distaste. “Shit- I have to get to
the hotel- why didn’t you wake me up, Oran?”
“I texted Sarah from your phone. She’s on her way here. We’re going out
to eat with Natasha and Erik.”
“Oh.” Awkwardness warmed my cheeks, and I rolled my bottom lip
between my teeth as the events of last night rushed into my head. I didn’t
even remember falling asleep, and I surely didn’t remember taking off my
clothes. Gnawing on my lip diligently, I rocked back on my heels as my
thoughts got away from me.
I couldn’t even imagine how hard it was for Oran to talk to me about
what he was feeling and not just ignoring it like it was some minor,
inconvenient event. What happened to him really tore him apart, and I
reached to rub my neck and shoulder as his admission echoed in my ears.
Whatever accident must’ve happened to Kara, he gave her mercy and
retribution. Two things, there— Oran must really believe in our relationship,
even if he doesn’t want to admit it, and I’m insane.
When someone confesses to murder, two of them, a sane person would
run away and not look back, just like he’d said.
“May . . . ” The deep timber that filled my ears wasn’t Oran’s, and I
snapped to attention to find his brother just two feet from me. His intense
eyes displayed no emotion at all, and I sucked on my bottom lip as the bridge
of my nose tingled wildly and uncomfortably. “I want to apologize for the
way we met. I thought you at least suspected why your parents kicked your
sister out, and I shouldn’t have ambushed you. I apologize.”
Carlyle talked so proper that it was almost difficult to listen to, and I
jerked my head in a nod before turning on my heel and rushing upstairs.
Finally, I inhaled deeply and held my hand over my heart to keep it from
bursting through my chest. Man, that guy was intense. I never wanted to be
alone with him.
But, Carlyle was still Oran’s brother, and I had to at least make an
attempt to like him.
“Ugh, okay.” Rubbing my face furiously, I shook my head just as hard
before snatching my shirt off the floor. When was it decided to go out to
lunch together? I knew that Carlyle had invited us, but there’d been no other
word about it. For that matter, how long had I been clocked out while Oran
was left to fend for himself? “Jesus.”
“May, hey.” Twisting as Oran appeared in the loft, I pulled my shirt down
to pause at the graveness dragging down his handsome, sharp features. “Can
we talk a little before we go out?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Sitting on the edge of his bed, goosebumps
washed my arms when Oran sat next to me, and I rubbed my knees as
curiosity stained my tongue. “If it’s about last night, I—”
“It’s not. Actually, I guess it sort of is . . . ” He trailed off, and my breath
hitched when he grabbed my hand to tangle our fingers together. Heat
engulfed my chest, and I glanced up as he turned to face me fully, his mouth
set in a thin line and a slight crease between his brows. “I know that things
got a little sidetracked last night, but I told you because I don’t know if this . .
. this burning need to be with you is love, May, but it’s not something I’ve
ever felt before. I just need you to know that.”
My jaw fell into my lap, and my heart grew full as Oran pulled off his
glasses with his free hand briefly. A huge, silly grin stretched my mouth even
as it dried in speechlessness, and he put his glasses back on to catch my eye.
Tingles shot down my spine, and I threw my arms around his neck to smash
my lips on his. He leaned back a little, his hands flying to my sides, and his
tongue sneaked out to tangle around mine.
Slowly, he cupped the back of my head, and our kiss morphed into
something slow and beautiful as affection and something more gripped my
heart in a vise. When Oran pulled back, his pants chapped my lips, and his
eyes blazed in desire only amplified by his glasses. Pressing his forehead
against mine, he kneaded the base of my skull, and I scooted into his lap to
sigh in utter bliss.
“We’re gonna have such great sex later.” My abdomen clenched at just
the bare notion of it, and Oran chuckled sultrily before capturing my mouth
in a quick, hard kiss. Cupping my cheek, he smiled a genuinely happy smile,
and it stole my breath. He was such a good man. Despite all his flaws, the
things he’s done, he was so, so good. My eyes stung at the acknowledgment
that nothing was better than this moment, and I blinked hard before nodding
firmly.
“There’s one thing I wondered, you know.” Speaking up as I stood to
grab my pants from the day before, Oran leaned back on his arms out of the
corner of my eye. “When you came up to me on the street that time, you
didn’t know who I was. How’d you find me if you didn’t look me up?”
“The manager at Hansen’s said you go there a lot, so she recognized the
coffee place you like to go to, and that was my best shot. She gave me your
name and what you looked like, but, no, I didn’t have to look you up.” I was
so damn happy that I didn’t care how it sounded now— I was so glad I
decided to track Oran down. Stuffing my legs into my pants, I bounced a
little as I hiked them up, and he just took my word for it, no hesitation or
skepticism. “When did you wake up? After last night, I thought you’d be the
one to sleep ‘til noon, not me.”
“You were up all night. I know you were because I felt every time you
stopped running your fingers through my hair.” Oran smiled so sweetly, and
flames licked up my neck as I fastened my pants with stiff fingers. “I’ve only
been up an hour. Carlyle called me. He has to go back to New York
tomorrow, so he wanted to apologize and get together before he left.”
“Oh, that’s not bad then. So, my question . . . why did you never ask if I
was on birth control?” His brows rose, and Oran barked a laugh as he
straightened to shake his head. “I mean, I am. I’m on the implant that only
needs to be changed every, like, five years, but why’d you never ask?”
“Because even if you weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. I can’t have kids.” I
nearly choked at that, and I stared at Oran through wide eyes as my brain
struggled to comprehend that so casual statement. Slowly, his little smirk
died, and he gazed at me from under furrowed brows as the atmosphere
settled thickly on my skin. “Unless kids are something you want, in which
case I can get a reversal.”
“Uh n-no, I don’t. It’s just, I don’t know, shocking. You say that like it’s
nothing.” Rising off the bed, Oran wrapped his arm around my neck to
grumble against my cheek. “That wasn’t the answer I expected.”
“Yeah, well, the last thing I needed was some hungry trap coming after
me. It’s happened before.” Snorting a laugh at that, I lifted my head, and
Oran planted a firm kiss on my mouth. “I can always change it. There’d be a
lowered chance, but a chance.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when all my non-existent friends get pregnant, and
I get baby fever.” It was like a joke. I didn’t want kids. I was as close to
having a kid as I ever wanted to get, and Oran’s smirk widened against my
lips before he reached down to grab my butt.
40

Oran
“Isn’t that the guy who was following me yesterday?” Sarah hid behind my
arm, almost, and pointed at the bar, and I glanced over through tight pupils.
There, plain as day, was that asshole who’d been peeking into the window of
my building, and he wasn’t alone. The woman who was with him was
comfortable, well dressed, with nice nails and perfectly curled blonde hair.
Wait a minute . . .
I knew those curls.
Pushing myself up, I ignored the curious glances from my table as I
wound my way over to the bar, and I put a hand on Malory’s shoulder. She
jumped, her blue eyes widening in alarm, and the guy not only seemed
unsurprised, but actually annoyed. Leaning into her ear, I kept eye contact
with him as the gears worked in his beady, brown eyes.
“This guy’s a child predator.” She tensed, and I squeezed Malory’s
shoulder as my mind whirred. At that moment, the bartender set their drinks
on the bar top, and she grabbed her margarita and unceremoniously tossed it
at his face. Gasps sounded behind me, and Malory just slid off her stool to
storm out.
This wasn’t Hansen’s. There were cloths on the tables, and that drink was
easily fifteen dollars or more. Sneering at me with alcohol and strawberry bits
dripping off his face, he stood up to square with me, and adrenaline pumped
through my veins. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and my eyelid
twitched at the rage burning the alcohol off his clothes.
“I guess we are going to have a problem. Who are you working for, huh?
The Italians, I bet.” His expression tightened, jaw ticking, and I nodded as
that attempt not to show me anything showed me everything. “I gave you a
chance yesterday, but if you’re stupid enough to take a job against me, I
suppose it’s not surprising you wasted that.”
“I’m going to walk out of here, or—”
“Oh, now, say it ain’t so, bella.” His eyes blazed in anger, and I almost
thought he was going to hit me as his shoulders brushed his ears. “Are you
saying you didn’t come here for a fight? Or did you actually expect me not to
notice you, let alone Malory, let alone . . . I’m three tables away, man.
Seriously.”
Sighing with a slight shake of my head, I rocked back on my heels and
stuffed my hands in my pockets as my own ire rose. I knew I wasn’t Carlyle,
but God damn. Through narrowed eyes, I watched him flick back his jacket
to reveal the piece in a holster hanging off his belt, and my brows rose in
surprise.
“I’m going to walk out of here, or I’ll kill you.” My lips twitched
upwards at the threat, and the notion of bringing a knife to a gunfight calmed
me. Actually, I don’t even have that.
“Oran.” May sidled up to my arm, and I tore my eyes off the asshole as
she frowned at me. “We get it, your dick is bigger. Can we go back to
eating?”
“Since you complimented me . . . ” Turning on my heel, I scowled darkly
as I wrapped my arm around May’s waist and squeezed her hip tightly. “If I
see him again, I’m going to fucking punch him.”
“Yeah, okay. Just don’t do it where we’ll get kicked out.” The chiding
tone darkened my scowl, and May rolled her eyes as she sat down, leaving
one chair between myself and Sarah. All eyes were on me, and I shook my
head at my brother’s quizzical expression. “So, what were we talking about?”
“It was about college. We’ve all been, except Erik and Sarah.” My knee
bounced under the table, and the hairs on my neck just wouldn’t lay down.
Out of the corner of my eye, that asshole wiped himself and scraped his
dignity off the floor to stride out, but I knew I’d see him at least one more
time. May put her palm on my knee and locked her elbow, and I covered her
hand with mine.
“Oran.” Erik leaned back in his chair, all two hundred twenty-five pounds
of muscle straining, and my cheek twitched in agitation. “I spent all night in
front of that door and didn’t see that guy. Relax.”
“And I appreciate that, but it wasn’t a coincidence that he was here with
my personal secretary.” Carlyle cocked a brow at my aggressive reply, and I
caught his eye to frown slightly as my knee bounced despite May’s hand.
Shaking my head slightly, barely a tilt, I frowned darkly as she squeezed my
leg threatening. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
“Well, you did, and we haven’t even gotten our food yet.” My glare
withered under May’s sharp rebuke, and I rubbed the back of her palm under
the table with my thumb. She was beautiful when she was pissed at me, and
her eyes flashed green before she sat back to swipe her rusty stray strays from
her face. “I know it’s a coincidence, but we all know those muscles are for
show.”
“Is that what you think, May?” Holding my free hand to my chest in
mock offense, I scoffed slightly, and she grinned as I leaned back in my
chair. The tension of the last minute slipped away, and even Carlyle laughed
a little at my theatrics. “I’ll have you know I’m a martial artist. I’m a certified
human weapon.”
My lips quirked up when she snorted a laugh, and I glanced over at Sarah
as she sat, a little detached, staring at her empty bread plate.
“It’s true, though. He really is. In middle school, our dad was teaching me
to shoot a gun, and Oran hates guns, so he got signed up for Muay Thai
classes. When he got through that, he did Krav Maga, then something else I
don’t know the name of. Oran even won a championship in high school.”
Carlyle spoke with slight disdain. Nothing could shake his faith in guns, and
on the whole, he was right. But there was something great about knowing
mixed martial arts, and it was something he was clueless about. A slippery
smirk stretched my lips when May gasped in surprise, and I propped my head
on my forearm as she bopped her head in a nod. Across the table, Erik took
control of the conversation, but I was content to bask in May’s attention.
Pride bubbled up in my chest like tar as she gazed at me from under heavy
lids and pursed her lips thinly.
“My family’s rule is no guns until sixteen. No real guns, at least. When I
was a kid, we had pellet guns and stuff as gifts for every holiday. We learn
hand to hand combat in the Navy, but I don’t think I’ve personally ever used
those skills. I haven’t been to a gym in a while, but I always have a gun on
me, so . . . ” He trailed off, slinging his arm around Natasha’s shoulders, and
I nodded absently. The waitress appeared with a tray of food, and the
conversation stopped for a moment. I went to the gym almost every day. At
this point, it was such a monotonous thing that I barely remembered I’d done
it.
“Oran, can you teach me self-defense?” The question made everyone
pause, even the waitress, and I turned to Sarah to nod firmly. If she was
relieved, her face didn’t show it, and she rubbed her neck with her forearm as
a frown twisted her lips. “If that guy’s involved with my parents . . . ”
“Sarah.” Sharply cutting her little sister off, May’s hand left my leg to
grab Sarah’s, and I shuffled out of the way. The fierceness in her eyes was
honestly heartbreaking. Even though they didn’t like it, they’d come into the
parent-child roles after Sarah flushed that bird. “Don’t worry about things
that don’t involve us.”
“I can look into it if it’d make you feel better.” The offer clearly surprised
May, and she glanced over at Carlyle warily. He just watched her,
deadpanned but serious, and I clenched my jaw at that familiar glint in his
eye.
Carlyle might not admit it, but he was a justice monger. If someone
fucked with him or anyone he knew and liked, that person was dead. And it
wasn’t going to be a quick, clean shot to the head.
Or by his hand. Inhaling deeply at that thought, I held my breath as May
nodded, surprisingly enough, and she sat back in her seat. The three across
the table got their plates first, and I assumed the waitress was coming back
with ours. Hunger gnawed at my gut, but no one had started eating yet as we
waited.
“This isn’t going too bad. I don’t think.”
41

May
“You’re really just a rich, pampered boy.” Oran huffed a laugh as I kneaded
his shoulders, and he inhaled a deep, leisurely breath that trapped his ribs
against my thighs. “You’re the one who’s supposed to give me a massage.
How else is sexy time supposed to get going, huh?”
“I’m starting to think the sex is all you care about, May.” His grumble
ended in a groan when I rubbed my thumbs in circles down between his
shoulder blades, and Oran craned his neck to catch my eye. “I’m glad I asked
for this.”
Smiling faintly, I leaned down to kiss his cheek, and Oran lifted his arms
above his head and stretched his legs downward. The huge centipede
covering either side of his spine by a good foot wiggled and wormed, and I
caressed down the length of it. Bright yellow and red and black— the artwork
was striking, and it danced to distract me from what I was doing.
“Oran, what does this mean?” Groaning softly as he relaxed under my
thighs, Oran rolled over heavily to settle on his back, but I could still see his
tattoo behind my lids when I blinked. Bracing my palms on his taut
shoulders, I leaned down to press my cheek against his chest, and the coarse
hairs there tickled my nose. For a long moment, he was silent, staring up at
the ceiling as his fingertips swept up and down my back, and I closed my
eyes as I soaked up his heat and attention.
“In Asian culture, centipedes are considered the symbol of chiefs, leaders,
and it may be beautiful, but I regret getting it. I always compared myself to
Carlyle, and for some dumb-shit reason, I thought it was a good idea.
Thankfully, it’s got artistic value and isn’t just a glaring representation of my
self-esteem.” His tone darkened, and his chest shuddered as he let out a gust
of breath. “I guess it could be worse— I could’ve been racist and gotten a
swastika tattooed on my face.”
“I think you’re better. Carlyle makes me nervous.” Oran smiled tenderly
against my crown, and I twirled his chest hairs around my finger as our group
lunch played behind my shuttered lids. “Thank you for standing up for Sarah.
Thank you for everything to do for me, Oran.”
 “You’re welcome, May.” Lifting my head to kiss him, I propped my
elbows on either side of Oran’s head as his palms slid under my panties to
grip my ass. His long fingers slipped between my legs, and I opened my
mouth for his sweet invasion as excitement trilled in my veins. His tongue
tangled with mine, our tastes mingling to send my buds into a frenzy, and I
arched into his hands as he spread my folds.
Rolling us onto our sides, Oran ground against my core, and I wrapped
my arms around his neck as the faint hum of ecstasy began to build in my
skull. His muscles rippled against my front, and a soft moan floated up from
deep inside me as we made out shamelessly. Nails grazed over my hip, and
my skin quivered at the tease as he edged my abdomen, his fingertips
creeping beneath the band of my underwear.
“I can’t get enough of this body.” Oran’s growl tightened my throat, and I
rolled my hips eagerly as he circled my clit. Tearing his mouth from mine, he
shouldered me onto my back to kiss and suck down my neck, leaving a trail
of fire and saliva behind. Spreading my legs in invitation, I shivered when he
dragged his finger up my slit, and he wasted no time claiming my nipple to
nibble sensually.
Gingerly working two fingers into my channel, Oran gasped as I writhed
in pleasure, and I gripped the pillow above my head with white-knuckle
tightness. His body rocked into my arch, and I clamped down on his digits
when they curled and twisted sluggishly. Goosebumps washed over my entire
body, and he thrust with the rhythm of his hand as a strangled gasp escaped
me.
Trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my belly, Oran shuffled down to
blow on my bead, and I rocked to his beat. Everything but him fell away as
he masterfully played me, his fingertips coaxing my inner walls tighter as the
pleasure mounted. Pulling my panties down, he paused only to take them off
completely, and his groan swept up my front when he spread my legs wide.
“Oh, Oran . . . ” He licked the length of my slit with all of his tongue, the
wetness and warmth, and the roughness of it sending a fog to my mind. My
thoughts sputtered to a stop, and I gasped as spasms strafed my thighs.
Parting my folds with his thumbs, he took a deep, grumbling breath, and
flames licked my cheeks as they climbed up from my abdomen.
“Delicious.” Hissing as the mumble reverberated down my legs, I lifted
my hips impatiently, and Oran swirled his tongue around my bead. His
savoring gentleness betrayed this tightness of his shoulders against my knees,
and he teethed my clit to tug sharply. Thin, sharp nails dug into my thighs
with I jerked, a moan tearing from my throat, and he groaned when my hands
flew to tangle in his hair.
My juices slicked his fingers as they teased my entrance, and Oran kissed
just below my belly button. This time, he jammed his fingers knuckle-deep,
and I choked on my gasp as pleasure surged in waves up my torso. Icy
prickles attacked my sternum, and he kissed up to my mouth to steal what
little breath I had left. The passion in his kiss blew everything else far away,
and I unfurled my fist from his scalp to reach between us. Pushing down his
boxers as he pulled back, I palmed his half-hard cock, and he ground against
me with greedy grunts and groans.
“Shit . . . ” Oran’s moan dried my tongue as his tangled around it, and I
squeezed his shaft. He trembled above me, his fingers curling and twisting,
the friction eased by the wetness seeping from my walls. “On your knees.
Stick that ass high for me, May.”
Excitement gripped my heart, expectation flooded my veins, and blood
drummed in my ears at Oran’s mumble. Doing as I was told, I quivered with
boiling hot need when he reached over me to grab the clamps sitting patiently
on the nightstand. Wiggling my ass greedily, I moaned when he spread my
ass cheeks only to squeeze them together, and desire seared a path up my
spine.
This time, Oran stuck the clamp on my inner thigh, so close to my core,
and I whimpered at the sharp sting. They were tight, not just for looks, and
already my skin throbbed dangerously. A second clamp pinched my other
leg, and my knees burned on the sheet as they slid as wide as they could.
“Jesus Christ.” Gasping with a shudder when Oran snapped the clip on
my side, almost at my ribs, I gripped the pillow tight. The pain was delicious,
intensifying the pleasure that already fogged my mind, and I ground my teeth
as I rocked back in wanton need.
Oran only used those three, but I couldn’t think when he flicked the one
on my left thigh. Needle-like pain prickled up to ball at my tail bone, and I
buried my moan in the pillow as he gripped my ass tight. Desire leaked from
my entrance, and he swiped the bulbous head of his cock between my folds to
coat himself in it. The mental image was almost too much, and I trembled
violently as my toes curled in expectation.
“Ugh-h fuck!” Sinking into my channel, Oran’s cock stretched my walls
as his growl rolled down my back, and I arched with a pleased, hoarse cry.
The pressure against my forehead released as the coil in my belly snapped
before his hips even touched mine, and my eyes rolled back. Clamping down
on his shaft, I undulated wildly, and he sucked in a whistle of a breath that
stole the heat from my skin.
Grinding his hips against mine, Oran rode out my orgasm, and I panted
harshly when he pulled back to set a hard pace. The clamps on my skin
tugged and scraped, and the pain and pleasure mingled all together
gloriously. Sharp and hard, the crack of his palm on my ass cheek sent
shocks up my spine, and I moaned loudly as he jerked my hips back. His
head bruised my cervix, the almost uncomfortable, sharp twinge in my core,
only adding to the incredible pleasure of it all.
“Fuck . . . fuck . . . cream on my cock, May. Yes-s-s . . . ” I scrunched up
my face as I came. Tight . . . tight . . . every part of me was wound so tightly
as Oran smacked my ass hard. The clap of his palm on my skin echoed in my
ears, and tears pricked my eyes at the burning sting even as I fell deeper into
ecstasy. “Scream!”
And he hit me again in the same spot, and a hoarse shriek burst out from
behind the dense lump in my throat. Panting furiously, I couldn’t do anything
but hold into the pillow, but even then, Oran tangled his hand in my hair to
yank my head up. He pounded my channel ruthlessly, his grunts and hisses
only broken by his own furiously hot breaths, and I undulated wildly around
his cock. His free hand massaged my burning skin only to pull back, and my
heart stuttered in expectation before he brought his palm down.
This time, there was nothing to muffle my scream as I came undone, and
sweat dripped down my neck and between my shoulder blades. My body
wound too tightly, and colorful spots assaulted my narrowing field of vision.
Tugging my hair hard, he pulled me up to grapple my breast and squeeze, and
I whimpered pathetically when he pinched my nipple and twisted. Harsh
pants tickled down my neck, drying the sweat on my skin, and he nibbled and
sucked and licked as he thrust wildly.
“O-oh-h-h God! Oh, my God!” My voice broke when Oran’s nails
unhooked from my hip to grip the clamp on my side, and I spasmed
uncontrollably. The heat, the rhythm, the sounds of us . . . together . . . it was
all too much, and the pain when he tightened the clamp was my undoing.
“Take it! Take it!” The bed creaking filtered through my fading scope of
comprehension, and Oran’s thrusts became jarring and erratic. His hips
bruised my ass cheeks, the sting from the indents of his nails sharpening and
intensifying. Tears streamed down my face at the absolutely lovely way he
pleasured me— the way he knew my body almost better than I did.
“Oran . . . Oran . . . oh-h-h-h! Oran!” He shoved me down to ram my
channel, his cock swelling as Oran grunted and sputtered a gasp. His
fingernails dug deep into my ass cheeks, and I clamped down on him as
pleasure sloshed through my chest. With just a few vicious thrusts, he
emptied himself inside me, and I wheezed into the pillow as all the energy
just seeped from my body.
Collapsing into a satisfied heap, Oran rubbed my ass cheeks gingerly but
made no move to unfasten the clamps clinging to my skin. His powerful
muscles rippled against my back, and my knees slid out from under me as I
struggled to breathe. Holding himself above me on his hands and knees, he
ducked to kiss down my spine, and I shivered as pleasure followed his lips.
42

Oran
“Hello?” I shouldn’t have answered the phone- I knew it- and I clenched my
jaw hard as May dribbled spit down my shaft to ease the friction. Holding
back her hair with my free hand, I frowned when she paused to glance at me
through narrowed eyes, but my brother’s raspy tone halted any pleasantness
currently muddling my brain.
“Hey, Oran. I’m sorry to call so late.” Prickles raced down my spine, and
I tugged May’s head back to throw my legs over the side of the bed. “I was
just wondering if we could talk.”
“Mateo, of course. What’s up?” My hard-on shriveled like a grape in the
sun when Mateo sucked in a rattling breath, and I covered my mouth to hide
my frown. “What’s wrong?”
“I just . . . I need to talk to someone. I’ve been up all night. You know
how Dad says I can get out? But I’ve been thinking . . . what if I can’t do
whatever it is he makes me do? I mean, what if I should just take Sonja’s
advice?” Alarms rang in my head, and Mateo sighed heavily as the hairs on
my neck and shoulders stood straight up.
“Mateo, if you think suicide is your only option, then you should. But if
you have even the tiniest smidgen of hope, then you shouldn’t.” A gasp
sounded behind me, but I ignored it as my form morphed into a grimace.
“You and I don’t have the best relationship, Mateo, but you’re still my
brother. I don’t judge you for what happened, bu—”
“I’m over that.” He sounded so hollow as he cut me off, and I held my
breath as soft hands rubbed my shoulders and down my back. “I realized
everyone was right— it was stupid. I was stupid. It’s not about that bitch or
that thing. I just . . . you know what else I realized, though, Oran? I don’t
know if I can do whatever Dad wants me to do. I know that whatever it is,
it’ll be beyond fucked up. Even if I can get through it, I won’t come out okay
on the other side.”
“I have faith in you, Mateo. You know, Dad doesn’t have to give you
permission for anything. What’s he going to do if you just walk away?” If
there was one thing I’d learned since moving to Seattle, it’s that Dad was
only a threat if he was right there. Otherwise, he couldn’t be bothered.
Carlyle was no different— if Mateo said ‘goodbye,’ Carlyle would sneer
‘good riddance’ and never give it a second thought. “Do you want to come
stay with me for a while? Get away from New York City and Dad?”
“No. I’m really tired. Carlyle came back just to call me useless, that he
should do it himself. I don’t get it. If he thinks he should do it himself, why
does he still make me do it knowing I’ll fuck it up?”
“Because Carlyle’s an asshole, Mateo. You of all people know how much
he likes to talk down on everyone else.” A cold sweat broke out on my body
at his silence. Mateo wasn’t even breathing, and I held my own as anxiety
gripped my gut in a vise. “Mateo, trust me, once you realize Carlyle’s
opinion doesn’t count for shit, everything will get better. You just have to
realize it for yourself. No one else can make that revelation for you.”
Mateo’s breaths started up again, and I clenched my jaw hard as
goosebumps swept down my back and arms. He didn’t say anything more
before hanging up, and I listened to the flat, long beeps, and clutched my
phone tightly. Leaning back against May, I flopped my head against her
shoulder to heave a massive sigh, and she rubbed my back soothingly.
“I don’t know. Mateo’s a gentle kid, the spitting image of our mom if my
dad’s to be believed, inside and out. He’s spoiled as all hell, but he’s . . . ”
Trailing off, my mouth dried as I inhaled deeply, and May rocked back to
hold me to her chest. Caressing my chest while I gazed at the endless white
of the ceiling, she didn’t say anything. What could she say? “I don’t know
why he’s suddenly calling me. Like I said- we don’t have even a good
relationship. Mateo spent all his life hiding, and I spent all my life trying to
grab something I could never catch.”
“Maybe he just needs someone to talk to, and he chose you because of
your neutral relationship.” Humming softly, I rolled onto my front to hold
myself over her, and May’s blurred features puffed out in a smile. “I was
gonna be mad that you answered, but now I can’t.”
“Are you coming with me to work tomorrow to sign all the forms to get
your subsidiary up and running?” Changing to subject none-too-subtly, I
climbed off May to grab my glasses, and her gorgeous body came into sharp
focus. New bruises blossomed on her side and thighs, and I bit down on my
bottom lip as she crawled up to the top of my bed. “I know you wanted to
talk to your old college friends and get the foundation laid first.”
“Yeah, I do.” Cuddling against my side, May wrapped her legs around
my left, and I laid back to grab the remote. Mateo distracted me at the
television flickered to life, and my lips twisted at the myriad of possibilities
he could experience. He was right- whatever our father thought to test him
with, it’d get dangerously close to breaking him, but May’s voice broke my
thoughts. “I’m gonna do it all this weekend. I know I can’t expect much,
though, so I’m still planning on doing interviews and stuff.”
“What about your sister?” Natasha had practically jumped at the chance
to stay in a nice hotel to ease May’s worries. It beat Erik’s back seats, for
sure, and it was free. With the weather getting worse, they were just waiting
to make sure her meds were adjusted correctly before heading south to
California.
Which worked for me because Sarah wasn’t comfortable in the hotel
room alone, and May wasn’t comfortable leaving her there.
“I mean, what about her? We’re homeless right now, she doesn’t go to
school, and she looks for opportunities, but it’s honestly not looking good.
Even if she’d just get her GED, she could go to college, at least do something
instead of being bored all day, every day.” She sounded so annoyed, it was
cute, and I couldn’t help but smile as she rested her cheek on my shoulder.
Just lounging around like this, naked, in the afterglow of great sex, was a
wonderful change of pace, and I kissed her crown absently.
“I could get used to this.” My murmur earned me a blissful sigh, and I
opened the tv guide to scroll through shows without actually looking at what
they were. “Maybe, I’ll go behind your back and get a house with another,
smaller house on the property. That way we’ll have privacy, you can charge
rent if she doesn’t go to school, so it’ll force Sarah to get a job. I know she
has her struggles, May, but there’s no way to overcome than to battle them.”
“You know, Oran, I think, for once, you might be onto something.” A
wide, lazy smirk stretched my lips at that, and May nuzzled my chest tenderly
as her arm slung over my waist. “That’s a good idea. I had thought, at one
point, that if Sarah and I were going to live separately, I’d want to be in the
same building, at least. If she doesn’t go to school, she’ll have to get a job,
and if she doesn’t get a job, I’ll start the eviction process to show I’m serious.
But not until she’s eighteen, and we’ve talked about it.”
“Exactly. See, great minds think alike. All we gotta do now is find a
place.” If things are this great now, they could get much better. All I had to
do was keep May happy, and that was easy because I liked making her happy.
If I could help her by making her sister happy, I’d do that, too. Caressing the
smooth slope of her back, I decided on cartoons because . . .
I was living in a fairytale, after all.
43

Oran
“Candice, it’s been too long.” Ducking into the shipping container, I rolled up
my sleeves as Candice smirked broadly. “How’d it go?”
“Guys like this are easy. I was surprised you sent me after one of my own
guys, Oran.” Struggling, tied to the chair, the guy that’d been on the wrong
side of me snapped his head up, and I leaned on the side of the container to
cross my ankles. “Why did you send me after one of my own guys, anyway?”
“The rules clearly state children are off-limits. You know why?” Candice
shrugged, pulling off her pale green beanie to fluff out her vibrant, green hair,
and I sucked my teeth in disdain. “Children are looked for immediately.
Adults have to be gone for more than forty-eight hours to initiate a search.”
“Right, right.” But I knew Candice didn’t care. She rarely spent more
than a few days on any soil before heading back out to sea. Like a siren, the
waves were her palace, and international waters were her domain. “You’re
doing this specifically because he went after your girlfriend’s sister.”
Her slick accent faded as wide, panicked eyes met mine, and I tilted my
head as I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. Small fry was annoying. I could
understand how this idiot didn’t recognize me the first time, but to know
Malory was my personal secretary took some research. Even then, he
should’ve known Carlyle’s face, but ignorance breeds idiocy.
“Well, regardless, it would need to stop anyway, but yes. Now . . . ” This
guy, whose name I didn’t know and didn’t want to know, tore his eyes off me
and ducked his head. His shoulders jerked from the force of his shivers, and
disgust coated my tongue thickly. Even if it wasn’t me, this guy was
supposed to make sure that, at the very least, the women he targeted to bring
across the Lake were over the age of eighteen. He’d be dealt with
accordingly, but he’d picked the wrong minor.
The raging itch that shot down my arms like lightning to tingle my
knuckles verified that.
Sweeping past me, Candice shut the door to the container, but it took less
than a second for the floodlights to flicker to brighten accordingly. For a long
moment, I just watched this piece of scum through narrowed eyes and
wondered. What the fuck made him think this was a good idea?
Even if I asked, I probably wouldn’t get an answer. That was the thing
about these guys— they knew they were done, and any information I got
from him was for me, so there was no point blabbing. I pushed myself off the
thick metal to walk over to him, and he stiffened as I pulled out a pair of
thick, pleather gloves from my pocket.
“I have to ask . . . why’d you keep coming after me when I warned you
not to?” I couldn’t resist the need to know, to reach this depth of stupidity. It
even outranked Diamon in pure, gross incompetence. Lifting his head, he
scowled at me, and I reared back my arm to punch him in the cheek. His head
flung back, the front legs of the chair lifting off the floor, and I wagged my
hand furiously as the impact rattled my bones.
Spitting out blood onto my shoes, the guy panted as his cry echoed off the
sides of the shipping container. His eyes flashed with rage at being struck,
and he struggled against the zip ties holding his arms behind his back and to
the chair.
“It doesn’t matter, I guess. It’s not only the Italians that take the crown
for shocking idiocy, is it?” Taking another jab at the guy’s face, I could feel
his cheekbone cracking through the glove, and a sick kind of pleasure flooded
my veins. This guy . . . this guy . . . this dumbass guy . . . “Wait a minute.
Now, I find that hard to believe. Candice, what’re the odds this guy didn’t
know who I was and what he was doing?”
That fucking smirk he gave me floated up in my mind from outside my
office, and I turned to my favorite lackey to arch a brow quizzically. She just
shrugged, utterly bored, not paying attention, and I turned back to the guy as
his face paled. Realization hit me the gut, and he started to struggle even
more as I opened my mouth with a soft ‘ah.’
“You did know. You’re an agent for the Italians. Oh-h boy, I have to tell
Carlyle.” All the blood from this guy’s face drained and spilled out of his
mouth at the mention of my older brother, and I took off my glove to fish my
cell phone out of my pocket. “This is gonna just make his day. He’s been
wanting to find out what’s going on in that big head Diamon has. Ever since
he killed Isobel, we’ve had no one to give us up to date information.”
Before I could dial Carlyle’s number, my phone screen lit up, and I
adjusted my glasses on my face to squint at the caller I.D. My cheek
twitched, and I gestured to Candice absently as I walked to the front corner of
the container to take the call.
 “May, hey, what’s up?” Even before she spoke up, I could tell she was
half-asleep, and she breathed deeply in my ear. “I had an issue in one of my
shipping containers. I’m at the docks right now. I’ll be back in, like, forty-
five minutes.”
“Okay, that’s not why I’m calling. Can you go to the drug store and bring
back some IcyHot things?” She slurred heavily, and a small smile tilted my
lips as I agreed, and she groaned loudly, above the rustling of her wiggling
around in my bed. “My legs hurt.”
“I’ll grab them. Do you want anything else?” I only received a grumble in
reply before she went silent, and I waited a few, long seconds before hanging
up. The time on my phone read three-thirteen a.m., but I made it a point to be
out of here by three-thirty as I dialed Carlyle’s number.
It was six a.m. there, so he should be awake.
“What?” Whipping around, I gazed at the guy tied to the chair as
Carlyle’s gruff tone seeped into my brain, and a slight grin stretched my lips.
“I have a double agent.” The simple, short message elicited a strong
response, and Carlyle sucked in a sharp breath as the left side of my face
prickled wildly. “That guy from the restaurant is working for the Italians.”
“Get rid of him. I don’t need anything on the Italians anymore.” The
loose code for ‘I already have a plan, I don’t need it fucked up by new intel’
was clear, and I nodded as Carlyle summarily hung up on me. Whatever he
was going to do to Diamon was going to be amazing, and it was a shame I
wouldn’t be there to watch. After all that bitch did to us, Carlyle must’ve had
an idea better than welding him into a concrete box.
But I digress.
“Are you just not going to tell your girlfriend about me?” Drawing me out
of my thoughts, Candice crossed her arms with a snooty look on her face, and
I frowned darkly. “Fine, whatever. I don’t care.”
“I’ll tell her eventually.” Candice shook her head disapprovingly, and I
slid my phone back into my pocket to put my glove back on. “I will,
Candice.”
“Yeah-h-h. You’re a fucking yolkless egg, you know that?” I barked a
laugh at that insult, and she flipped her green hair over her shoulder with a
huff. “Let’s get this over with. I go back to London in two hours.”
Mateo
1

Mateo
“Mateo.” Dry, sticky hands shook my shoulder, and I forced my eyes open as
alarm jumpstarted my heart. Sitting up too fast, I glanced around through
narrowed eyes, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. The
room was empty but for me and Lucy, and I had a second or two before the
pain in my back set fire to my bones. “Mateo.”
“What . . . what is it?” Rasping hoarsely, I squeezed my eyes closed as a
vicious throb assaulted my sides and my breaths became labored again.
Turning to Lucy, her dirty face aimed at me with such indescribable emotions
masking her bird-like, round features, I arched sharply only to agitate the
scabs on my back. “What happened?”
“I heard something.” Gingerly shuffling around, I grabbed Lucy to pull
her to my chest, and her frail frame was stiff against me. Her shivers
reverberated off my skin, and I stroked her greasy, matted hair as her sniffle
assaulted my ears. “I heard something outside.”
“It’s okay. If they were going to kill us, they would’ve done it already.”
No matter how many times I said it, Lucy never believed me, and I shook my
head as silence descended between us. “We’ll get out of here. My brothers
are looking for me.”
Hopefully. At least I could convince her of that despite how unsure I was,
and a peculiar kind of disgust glued my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
We’d been in this room for what I could guess was about six days, but it was
only a guess. Sometimes, it felt like much longer, and other times, I didn’t
even care enough to keep track. Closing my eyes, I rested my cheek on
Lucy’s crown, and we sat, unmoving, savoring what little comfort we could
from each other.
Gulping down the dense lump in my throat, I leaned back only to wince at
the shooting pain down my back, and Lucy tensed. Her breath hitched loudly,
her big, blue eyes meeting mine, shimmering in concern, and I shook my
head slightly. She was so sweet, and a slight crease appeared between her
slender, blonde brows as that worry morphed her delicate features.
“Just stay still. Don’t use up energy.” We got fed twice a day, assuming
once in the morning and once at night, and I knew it’d be a few more hours
until then. The thick, metal door rattled slightly, and goosebumps swept
down my arms when Lucy whimpered. A hard bang rattled my teeth, and
anxiety gnawed at my gut as I glanced over my shoulder through tight pupils.
“Ready to start spilling some secrets?” Two men entered the room, and
my lip curled as the one who spoke perfect Italian slapped his whip against
his palm threateningly. “You know, it’d be easier for you if you just gave us
what we wanted.”
His thick accent sent prickles down my spine, and I tightened my grip on
Lucy as silence engulfed the room. Clenching my jaw when the guy
shrugged, apprehension gripped my heart in a vise and squeezed as the door
shut with a damning click. A cold sweat broke out on my body, and Lucy’s
shallow breaths became wheezes as I pushed her into the corner. Standing on
unsteady, weak legs, I rolled my shoulders and bit my cheek against the pain
and the itch as amusement flooded both men’s faces.
Ugly-ass grease monkeys . . . they can’t even torture someone right.
“You obviously don’t get what growing up with Carlyle was like if you
think I’m going to talk.” Grinding the words out through my teeth, I resisted
the urge to spit at them and really make them mad. Eventually, Carlyle or
Oran would find me— all I had to do was endure. Every fucked-up thing
Carlyle had imposed upon me my entire life was all in preparation for this,
and this was pitiful by comparison. For once, I was glad he was such a dick to
me, and I inhaled a deep, stabilizing breath.
“Everyone talks, kid. It’s just a matter of figuring out how much you can
take.” If you were good at your job, you wouldn’t need to figure it out. No
wonder Carlyle had such a low fucking opinion of the Italians— they
operated like it was the fifties again, as if I didn’t grow up in the shadow of a
monster. It was insulting, honestly.
“Let’s get this over with so you can go slink back to Diamon and tell him
you failed again.” Oh-ho-ho, that made him mad, and I whipped around to
pin Lucy to the corner with my body as he stormed over. The metal tips of his
flail shimmered ominously, but I could take it. It was only physical, after all.
Carlyle was much worse in terms of creativity.
Lucy shivered against my legs, her slender fingers gripping my jeans at
the knees, and I breathed harder and faster as adrenaline replaced the air in
my lungs. The hairs on the back of my neck bristled and my cheek twitched
as I ground my teeth together. When the air swirled, I braced my feet firmly
on the concrete, and the whip came down with all the force its wielder could
muster.
Fire surged just under my skin as it burst open, the crusted parts of
previous impacts flaking off as the metal caps dug into my shoulder blade.
Lucy’s quiet squawk rang in my ears, but I stayed silent, even as those flames
wrapped around my ribs. Pain weakened my knees, and I squeezed my eyes
shut as he sent the barbs sailing into my back again.
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to be rescued, damnit! If I
succumbed, God only knew what would happen to Lucy.
That was the whole point of putting her in here, after all. Fucking
amateurs.
“Fuck!” Blurting out the slur hoarsely as a fourth, or maybe fifth, stroke
landed against my back, I blinked back the tears that blurred my vision. I
watched in hyper-detail as they fell onto Lucy’s head, and their cruel, dark
laughter rang in my ears. Keeping myself as still as possible while the pair
walked out, I pictured them with their stupid smirks, thinking they were so
great.
Only when the lock on the outside of the door slid shut did I collapse, and
I gasped for air as my nerves threatened to explode. Trembling hands cupped
my face, but even my ears hurt, so I sobbed unashamedly into Lucy’s dirty,
blood-stained shirt. Violent tremors strafed my spine and blood dribbled
down my back, soaking into the waistline of my jeans.
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Okay, okay, I’m here, Mateo. I got you.”
Lucy’s voice wavered, her own tears burning my face, and I sniffled hard in a
futile attempt to fill my lungs. She kept talking, but I couldn’t hear any of it
as blood thrummed in my ears. No matter how expected it was, how easy it
was to see the whole picture, that whip fucking hurt, and if we weren’t
rescued soon, I was going to end up with one raging infection.
“Shit. Shit.” Panting harshly, I laid down on my belly to try to relieve the
stretching of my back, and my eyes rolled dangerously. It’d be a few minutes
or a few hours, but those two would be back. If it’s just the one, I could
probably take him, and bitterness coated my teeth.
The silence was deafening when the beat against my ear drums quieted as
Lucy stroked my forehead and gingerly pushed back stray strands of my hair.
After the first few times, I got used to the constant throbbing, the fire, the
sting every time I took a breath, and I closed my eyes and managed a shallow
inhale.
 “S-so, tell me . . . tell me about you . . . your fiancé.” Sniffling harshly,
Lucy croaked a cry of her own at my question, and all the tension in me
seeped into the cold, wet concrete floor. “He’ll be happy when . . . when
you’re saved.”
“He’s . . . he’s a great guy.” Holding my face in her lap, Lucy took a
shuddering breath and wiped her face and mine. I cracked open an eye to find
her exaggerated, sad, sharp frown. “We got together in high school, been
together ever since. I . . . I already told you about that. Right, I think I did.
Seth is . . . ”
She trailed off blankly, and her lips thinned until a white line appeared
around her mouth. Whatever she was thinking, I didn’t have the mind to
guess, so I closed my eye again as she started to shake her head.
“Mateo? Mateo, no, no. Don’t pass out. Please.“ Desperation laced her
tone, but I couldn’t stop myself as the darkness closed in on me. The pain
didn’t dull even a little, and she tapped my face as her panic was the last
thing I heard.
2

Mateo
The lack of noise sneaking under the door was worrying in itself, and I rub
my face to scrub the tiredness from my eyes. Surprisingly, Lucy and I hadn’t
been fed yet, and those two assholes hadn’t come back. The light streaming
in from under the door was just enough to turn the pitch black into gray, and I
blinked hard and yawned . The flames engulfing my back flared briefly, but I
was an expert at beating down the pain— it was all in my head, and my head
had been through much worse.
“Lucy.” My voice scraped my throat, and she hummed a crackled sound
as her watery, blue eyes met mine. “I made a lot of mistakes, but I just want
you to know . . . taking this for you isn’t one of them.”
She teared up instantly, and I cracked a small smile as Lucy crawled the
few feet between us and into my arms. Hugging her between my knees, it
suddenly became a little easier to breathe, and as she cried quietly, I tucked
her head under my chin. We had a choice, though it was more of a forgone
conclusion, to be honest.
Those Italian scum were fully prepared to do whatever they wanted to
Lucy unless I took it. For some reason, they didn’t want to sodomize me,
which I thought was highly unfair. I got whipped, smacked around, verbally
harassed, but not once did any of those grease monkeys pull down my pants.
How fucked up was that? I mean, when he said, ‘it’s you or her’, I wasn’t
wrong in expecting some sort of sexual violation. I guess I wasn’t pretty
enough. Maybe it was because I had recently cut my hair? Was it the whole
flat-chested bullshit, or even the fact that my back was a major turn-off? In
that case, they could’ve just done it before whipping me bloody, right?
I knew plenty of porn stars with less of a chest than me, too, for that
matter.
“That’s so fucked up.” My murmur earned me a cry harsher than the rest,
and I tightened my grip on Lucy as my mind continued to whirl dangerously.
“You know, Lucy, I wish I had someone to go back to. I just think it’s better
by myself, so I don’t have to worry about anyone else. You don’t need all
that stress on you.”
 “I think the first thing I’m going to do is eat something that’s not rice
jacked up with protein powder.” Snorting a weak laugh at that, I grumbled
lowly in agreement, and Lucy sputtered a breath that rolled down my
sternum. “You said these guys brought me here to use me against you, right?
What if they kill me?”
“As long as I’m alive, they’re not gonna kill you, Lucy.” The Italians
were predictable thus far, so I was fairly certain about that. She flopped her
head back to stare me dead in the face. “Besides, to be a good torturer, you
need to have a stronger will than the person you’re torturing. Those guys
think that just physically torturing me is gonna do the trick, but it won’t. If I
was ever grateful to my brother for being a fucking psycho, it’s right now.”
“How can it be worse than this?” Sympathy struck my chest, and I licked
my lips as Lucy gazed at me like I had two heads. “How can you be so . . . so
nonchalant? Your back—"
“My brother heads the most powerful criminal organization on the planet,
Lucy, and he’s a psychopath— at least, to me he is. This is nothin’. The truth
is, a few years ago, I got a girl pregnant. I was younger and stupider, and she
was after money to fuel her drug addiction. When we met, she was clean, but
when she started drugging up again, I found out she was pregnant. She
assured me it was mine and then she disappeared.” Shame coated my tongue,
and I frowned as surprise flickered in Lucy’s eyes. “I was a spoiled rich kid,
the youngest of four, but even with all that experience, I couldn’t tell she was
lying. Anyway, my oldest brother, Carlyle, found out. I thought everything
would be awesome— I’d get her clean, we’d have the baby, and everything
would be perfect. But . . . ”
“But . . . what happened?” Man, now, I couldn’t even remember that
chick’s name, and I had been so disillusioned it was embarrassing. The older
wounds on my back split open, and I arched slightly as blood trickled down
my skin.
“She wouldn’t fucking shut up. It was driving me nuts. She was
screaming all the time, it never stopped, so Carlyle boarded me up in the
house with her, alone, with no way out.” Lucy gasped at the horror of it, and,
at the time, I had been under that same impression. I’d learned the hard way
that hindsight is a wonderful thing, though, and I shook my head slightly.
“Carlyle could’ve killed her himself, but that’s what he did. He didn’t let me
out until she was dead, so I killed her. It doesn’t seem so horrific now
because everyone was telling me it was a mistake and not going to end well.
She was a heroin addict, I think, and that baby would’ve been addicted, and
my own romanticized delusions blinded me.”
“That’s awful.” A dry chuckle breached my chapped lips, and Lucy
covered her mouth to hide her frown. “How could your own brother do that
to you?”
“I just said— he’s one fucked up guy, Lucy. Anyway, the point is that
was just one instance. There were many. Some weren’t even my fault— they
were just him flexing his muscles and squishing me under his boot. The point
is, I’ve been through a lot worse than getting a couple lashes to the back. This
isn’t the end for me, and it won’t be the end for you, Lucy. I promise you
that.”
“I believe you, Mateo. What were you like before . . . before all that?”
“Ah, I had a huge, silver spoon up my ass. Basically says it all.” She
smiled a real, genuine smile and I cupped her cheek to imprint it against my
palm. “What about you, huh?”
To say I was curious, yeah, I was. But, more than that, I wanted to keep
our minds off our circumstance. All I had to do was endure, try to minimize
the impact on her, and we’d get through this.
“I had a normal childhood, I guess. I met Seth in high school, and we
started dating in eleventh grade. We went to the same college, but my
business degree took a lot less time than his law degree. On the day I
graduated, he asked me to marry him in front of everyone— my parents, my
siblings. I was so shocked that I said yes, but I felt kinda pressured to.” She
sighed almost bitterly, and I stroked her cheekbone as her smile turned sour.
“He promised he’d never let anything happen to me, but look where I am
now. I don’t think I can ever trust him again.”
“That’s not fair. How was he supposed to protect you against
professionals? Bad professionals, but professionals nonetheless.” Averting
her gaze, Lucy inhaled a hiccupping breath, and my heart aced for her. “It’s
not his fault. It’s no one’s fault.”
“Even if it was superficial and capricious, it was a promise Seth couldn’t
keep.” There was nothing I could say to that, and Lucy’s expression slowly
became relaxed against my palm. “I know it’s not his fault, but that doesn’t
stop me from blaming him because it happened.”
Our conversation was halted when the hatch on the door clattered open,
and Lucy jumped as I twisted. Flames licked up my back and down my legs,
and I hissed even as the grating of metal on concrete gyrated against my ears.
The prison tray-like plate was piled with rice that probably tasted like sand
due to the protein powder in it, and Lucy left my grip briefly.
“You should eat some this time.” Shaking my head as Lucy sat down in
the corner, between my legs, I clasped my hands as my stomach churned
hungrily.
“I ate some of the last one. You eat it all.” It wasn’t a lot of rice, maybe a
cup, but it also wasn’t enough for both of us. Lucy didn’t protest anymore
when I doubled down, and I gulped down the saliva that pooled under my
tongue as I watched her start shoveling rice into her mouth with her hand.
3

Lucy
I don’t know when I stopped panicking, when my mind calmed and this
became my new quasi-normal. I gazed at Mateo unperturbed as he urinated
into the hole in the front right corner of the room. I couldn’t pinpoint when it
stopped bothering me that that was what we were reduced to. I barely heard
that sound as my eyes followed the marks on his back, shadowed heavily in
the gloom.
No, I didn’t know anything anymore, but Mateo seemed to know
everything. At first, it was frightening how casually he spoke about what he
expected them to do to him, but that didn’t make me any less glad. At the
very least, he had warned me, and nothing could make me ready, but the
warning was enough.
The messed-up part was probably how bitterly disappointed he was at
these people’s efforts to break him. My heart ached, knowing how bad his
home life was if this was a simple walk in the park. Mateo just brushed it all
off, and I couldn’t begin to imagine how psychologically tortured he must’ve
been growing up.
Mateo’s back was a stinking, puss-dribbling, dirty roadmap of cuts and
skin hanging off his ribs. Even so, his shoulders were strong and taut, and
that wretched calmness of going through the motions eased my own troubled
thoughts.
“Welcome to day number seven.” Tearing me from my thoughts, Mateo
adjusted his tattering, caked jeans around his waist to fasten the button, and
my brows rose when he turned to me. “Happy week-a-versary, Lucy.”
“How do you know?” He pointed at the light peeking from under the
door, and I pursed my lips thinly as I rested my chin on my knees. “The light
changes or something?”
“Yeah. Keeping track of time is one of the easier ways to not go nuts.”
The question balanced on the tip of my tongue— how did Mateo know all of
this? Did he take a ‘How to Survive Being Tortured’ class or something in
high school? Sauntering over to me, he sat down cross-legged just inches
from me, and I flexed my toes in my ratty sneakers. “What about you, huh?
What’s some of your favorite things to do?”
“Um . . . I like to garden. I live in Tennessee, in Jackson. My whole yard
is a garden. My favorite part is digging up my yard and cleaning the soil. It’s
fun.” He smiled tenderly, and I sucked in a sharp breath as I licked my lips
heavily. “I also save a lot of money, which is nice.”
“So, you have your own house. Do you have any pets?” I knew that
Mateo was distracting me, keeping me from thinking about the smell, the
darkness, the hopelessness, and I nodded. My chest ached as I thought of my
dog, and I sniffled and cleared my throat.
“A chocolate lab, Marshal.” Mateo chuckled at me, covering his mouth
with the back of his palm, and I scrunched up my nose. “What? I like that
name. Anyway, he’s a rescue. Just the best dog ever. Super sweet and not
very pushy, and he’s a trash can. He’ll eat anything. I was thinking of getting
another one.”
“Mmm, I never had pets when I was younger. My dad couldn’t stand
them— hated dogs with a passion, in particular. I think, when we get out of
here, I’m going to get a dog. Golden retrievers are great dogs, right? That’s
what I’ve always heard, at least.” Nodding mutely, I could see it in his eyes
that he really did think getting a dog was a good idea, but as Mateo spoke, his
smile started to dull. “Maybe, I’ll get a rescue, too.”
“I think that’s a great idea, Mateo. Um . . . what about your hobbies?”
Despite everything he made me say, I knew very little about Mateo, only the
superficial stuff. He told me about his brother, his father, and how he grew up
an unfathomably rich baby that thought the whole world owed him and was
unfair. But, now, I couldn’t see him as anything less than what he’d showed
me.
He was strong, calm under pressure, and smart- very smart. He was
coldly calculating when it came to the people that held us captive, and he was
very bighearted. Most of what he said about himself didn’t reflect that at all,
but that’s because it was all in the past.
“I’ll tell you a secret, but you can’t tell anyone, Lucy, okay?” His eyes
sparkled with conspiracy— or was it the mild infection and fever? I nodded
anyway, and he reached to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “I like to sing.
When I was little, I always wanted to be a rock star. No one knows, though.”
“Really? What do you like to sing?” But the question never got an answer
when the sliding bar lock on the door cut through our conversation, and
anxiety gripped my body in a vise. Even though he didn’t show it, he inched
closer to me, and Mateo’s nostrils flared like a bull readying to charge. His
strong jaw ticked, and I ducked my head as light spilled into the room. The
concrete box that threatened to close in on me was dirty and splattered
everywhere in blood, and I squeezed my eyes shut before Mateo clamored to
his feet.
“I hope y—" Whatever snarky comeback Mateo had never rolled off his
tongue as he choked on it, and goosebumps prickled my arms and down my
back. The smell of salt crusted my nose, but I didn’t dare open my eyes, just
like Mateo told me. There was a scuffle, then a thump, and I held my breath
as the sound of water sloshing filled the room.
And then, Mateo’s bloodcurdling screams echoed off the concrete, and I
balled myself up tighter as hot water seeped through the holes in my shoes.
Water rushing down the drain gurgled loudly just under his furious pants, and
the distinct thwack of him falling to his knees rattled my brain.
“It’ll only get worse from here.” Mateo had told me in the beginning that
threats were empty, and if these people were actually going to do something,
they wouldn’t warn us, first. I held onto that belief to keep me sane, to hope
that we’d get out of here, but the sound of his whimpers and cries drowned
out those words. Only when the door slammed shut again did I open my eyes,
and I peered through the gloom for his silhouette.
“Oh, no, Mateo. Oh, God.” He was shivering, his face scraped up when I
scrambled to take him in my palms, and he was soaking wet. Pain twisted his
sharp features even in the dimness, and my heart slammed against my chest
as I wiped water from his shoulders and arms. “What was that for?”
“Ob-obv-viously.” Panting hoarsely, Mateo’s voice cracked noticeably,
and I winced as my chest flooded with a different kind of pain than he was in.
“Someone kn-knows what an . . . infection l-looks . . . like. Man, that-t
fucking h-hurt.”
“They poured hot water on you?” Jerking his head back, he sucked up a
ragged breath through his nose, and Mateo’s bright, brown eyes met mine.
Even now, he looked like he got rained on at the park, as if this was nothing.
Sure, it hurt, but hey! It only hurt! Amirite!
Tears welled in my eyes, and I sniffed as my own nose clogged with how
horrific that notion was.
“Salt water . . . helps promote healing and forces bad shit out. That’s why
they make you gargle it when you have a sore throat. There was a lot of
fucking salt in that water.” His voice stabilized, wavering, but not stuttering,
and I nodded dumbly as Mateo stood up. The water shimmering on his back
turned black from the blood and pus that streamed down his skin, but I
couldn’t even wipe it away. My palms itched, and I uselessly took his face in
my hands as he propped himself on his arm on the wall. “Lucy, don’t cry.”
“I’ll cry if-f I wa-want to-oo!” Blubbering slightly, I clenched my jaw
against the sobs that clogged my throat, and Mateo wiped my eyes and nose
tenderly. His hands shook, his face trembled, his whole body was wracked
with powerful tremors, but he still found the strength to help me.
I considered myself lucky— if Seth had been snatched with me, he
wouldn’t protect me the way Mateo has. Seth would try to split it exactly
fifty-fifty— for the bill at the restaurant when I got something much cheaper,
for the movie tickets, when I got a small popcorn and he got a bucket, for
groceries despite the fact he wanted to go for only himself.
We didn’t live together, Seth and I, and I blinked hard at the ring on my
finger as disdain coated my tongue.
“I’m gonna break up with him.” My mumble earned me a soft huff, and I
frowned as I gazed at the five-thousand-dollar rock. It honestly wasn’t even
that pretty a ring. Seth didn’t get it because it was ‘perfect’— he bought it
because his mother picked it out. “I am. Seth is . . . Seth is a great guy, but
he’s not great for me.”
“Ach, you’re just saying that because I’m here.” How can you joke after
what just happened? Sadness clung to my ribs like tar, and I shook my head
slightly as Mateo waved me off. “It’ll be fine. It’s not as bad as it seems.”
“They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, Mateo . . . ” My protest trailed off,
and I ran my hands through my hair roughly. The greasy, thin strands stayed
that way, and disgust skittered under my skin. “All those stupid, little things I
put up with, I’m not gonna do it anymore.”
Mateo didn’t reply, and I crossed my arms over my chest as I rocked back
on my heels. If Seth was here, he’d probably try to preserve his own self over
me. My fiancé would think twice about getting his back torn up to spare me
when I wouldn’t for him.
At least . . . before Mateo . . .
4

Mateo
Lucy’s head began to bob from how exhausted she was, and I scanned her
face as it smushed against her knee. She tried to stay awake as long as
possible, but it was difficult for someone that wasn’t used to it. Thankfully,
I’d put myself through this shit willingly when I went to New York City—
the hunger, the hopelessness, the lack of physical movement.
I wouldn’t let Lucy know how far deep that despair dug into my soul,
though. It’d been too long; if anyone was looking for me, they should’ve
found us by now. Seven days was far, far too long. Chances were that Carlyle
wasn’t even looking for me- Hell, he was probably celebrating my being
missing. He was so damn impatient that if he wanted to, he could’ve found
me before I even ended up in this fucking hole.
Oran was much more patient, but even then, with the resources available,
an entire week . . .
“Mateo.” The weak slur stole my attention, and I blinked as Lucy reached
to caress my cheek. She always looked concerned, always sympathizing, and
always had those big, blue eyes trained on me. “You look sad.”
“Once we get outta here, you should go back to your life.” I covered her
palm with mine as a pained expression flickered on Lucy’s face in the gloom,
and her touch bristled the hairs on my face. “I have the utmost faith you can
bounce back from this.”
“Will I ever see you again?” Lucy and I should’ve never met, and I
cracked a small smile as she scratched my thickening scruff with a
thoughtfulness blazing in her eyes. “You probably clean up real nice, Mateo.”
“I do clean up real nice!” I forced myself to laugh, and Lucy chuffed a
little giggle much more genuine than mine as her palm fell from my jaw.
Rubbing my jaw and the back of my neck, I struggled not to itch the higher
wounds on my back. That salt shit made it almost unbearable, but like
everything else, it just faded into the background. “You know, Lucy, I’ve
done so much that I’m not proud of. I was a person I was ashamed of. A
couple months ago, I started calling my brother, Oran. He’s younger than
Carlyle but older than me. At the time, I was so unhappy with my life— I felt
so useless and like I was disappointing everyone. I guess, having this happen
kinda put me in a better spot than I was before.”
“That’s messed up, but . . . that makes me really happy, Mateo.” A slick,
self-maligned grin stretched my lips, but it was too dark for Lucy to really see
the fine workings of my face. Her emotions played so brightly, they were
impossible not to see, and the darkness only enhanced them. All this time, I
kept telling her don’t freak out and keep calm and try to distract yourself but,
really, the only thing to distract us was each other.
Captivity drew people together, which was what those grease monkeys
wanted, but why hadn’t they acted on it, yet? There were no cameras in here,
no one to monitor what we were doing and saying, and I’d bet my fucking
left nut that the Italians had very little security. That just seemed to be how
they rolled— bumbling around blindly with a loose plan that had no details
thought out.
I blinked when the bar locking the door from the outside scraped against
the metal frame, and my heart leaped into my throat. Standing up as Lucy
curled up in the corner, I clenched my hands into tight fists as all that
irritation that’d built up the past week set fire to my insides. I was damn sick
and tired of waiting, and if no one was going to come after me, Lucy and I
were gonna get the fuck out on our own.
But when the door flung open to bang against the wall, it wasn’t some
disgusting Italian that stood in the threshold, and surprise nearly ripped my
brows off my face.
“Theo! Dude, you have no idea how happy I am to see you!” Theo
cracked a smirk, dark and ugly, but not a scowl, and astonishment heightened
my voice. He stepped into the concrete box, and my knees wobbled
dangerously as Oran stepped out from behind him. “Why didn’t we hear
anything?”
Was this a dream? Was I hallucinating? Had I finally just lost my shit?
Striding over to Oran, I flung my arms around him, and he cupped the back
of my head as I hugged him tight. His smell wafted up my nostrils, and tears
pricked my eyes as relief flooded my veins.
“I hate guns, you know that, Mateo. Besides, Carlyle’s kicking up all the
fuss, and, boy, is he pissed. Theo and I came to get you quietly.” The sound
of Oran’s voice was like Heaven’s hymns, and I rocked back on my heels to
grab his face. Holding a hand to my chest, he scrunched up his nose in
disgust, but the dancing in his eyes betrayed him. “Don’t kiss me or anything.
Let’s get out of here.”
“Yeah, yeah. You guys are by yourselves? Just the two of you?” Oran
shrugged, and I whipped around as Lucy struggled to her feet. Relief and
excitement to be free, and a barrage of other emotions stole my breath, and I
started for her before Theo held out an arm to stop me. My nose clogged as
he swept her off her feet, and she practically passed out instantly from the
vertigo.
That was good, though, because I didn’t want Lucy to see or hear me.
“My driver’s outside. We need to get you some medical treatment,
Mateo. We’re going to burn the place down.” Clapping a hand on my
shoulder, Oran’s deep timbre skittered along my skin, but I couldn’t make my
legs move. Theo carried Lucy’s limp body through the threshold, and only
once she’d disappeared did my knees finally give out on me. “Hey! Okay,
okay, alright. You’re okay.”
Catching me before my head cracked on the floor, Oran’s arm slithered
around my lower back, and he grumbled as his skin glued to me. Panting and
shivering furiously, I struggled to wheeze past the dense lump in my throat,
and my brother held my head to his shoulder comfortingly.
“I w-was starting to think . . . I thought . . . I . . . ” Sputtering as hot tears
streamed down my face, I gasped willy for air, and Oran stroked my face as
his jaw ticked hard against my forehead.
“Carlyle refused to let us go until he started his own operation. Theo was
actually the one that fought him on it, but, obviously, we lost. What about
you, huh, Mateo? How’d you hold up?” I bawled like a baby, and I didn’t
even care. The only thing that mattered was that we were gonna see the sun
again. Lucy was going to wake up in a hospital bed, safe and sound, and me .
. . “The last time we spoke, you said ‘goodbye’ to me. I was so worried when
you went missing.”
“I’m t-too much of a pussy to k-kill myself.” Oran chuckled dryly at that,
and he hoisted me up with a grunt as I leaned heavily against him. Sniffling
hard, I rubbed my face with my free hand and managed a shallow breath. Too
many things crammed in my chest for much more than that, and I hiccupped
a sob as I wiped my tears away. “Oran, I . . . I don’t know how t-to explain
it.”
“Well, you have time to think about it. The ambulance is right there.”
Outside the room was a flight of stairs leading to a pretty average looking,
smallish house, and I glanced around at the bodies on the floor. My toes
curled as I shuffled heavily along, but I didn’t stop to kick the lifeless husks.
Who knew if I could get myself moving again? Hobbling my way through the
living room, every piece of furniture was a blur, and I covered my eyes as we
breached the front door.
The nighttime air caressed my face, and I closed my eyes to savor it. All
the tension in my shoulders seeped into the soft grass when the I stepped off
the path that led to the sidewalk. There was no moon, no whirring, bright
lights of emergency vehicles, and Oran held me up as I stood in the grass. I
wish I could take off my shoes.
“Where are we, anyway?” Gazing up at the stars, I licked my lips heavily,
and Oran adjusted his grip on me gingerly. “Lucy . . . she’s from Tennessee,
so . . . ”
“We’re currently in the great state of Virginia. When you wake up again,
we’ll be at the nearest hospital. Dad’s worried about you, kid— as worried as
he can actually get.” Jerking my head in a nod, I started toward the quiet
ambulance, and my brother passed me off to the paramedics to pull off his
shirt and wipe his arm. “Knock him out. We got a long way to drive.”
5

Lucy
A soft, weighted blanket draped my shoulders, and I cracked my eyes open to
find a face I didn’t know watching me critically. Right now, I didn’t even
have the energy to feel anything, and I squeezed Mateo’s hand just to make
sure he was there. I didn’t even the energy for anything else, to even close my
eyes again, and the crisp, coarse sheet that covered him stuck to my cheek as
my brain puttered to life.
“Your name is Lucy, right? Lucy Voight?” The deep, solid voice was
heavier than the blanket, and I groaned softly in agreement as the guy pulled
up a chair next to mine. “I’m Oran, Mateo’s brother. I don’t want to bombard
you right now, but there’s some things we need to talk about concerning what
you’re going to tell people, Lucy.”
“Just tell me what to say.” My slur earned me a frown, and I somehow
managed to find the strength to lift my head. Every part of me was heavy,
slow, and I yawned hugely as Oran watched me through narrowed eyes.
“Well, what you say depends on how well you can tell the story. I don’t
think it’s wise to tell people you were kidnapped by the Italian Mafia and
subsequently saved by two random guys that basically ninjaed their way into
the place.” Despite the humor in his tone, Oran’s frown didn’t falter, and my
gaze found his dazedly as he leaned back in his seat to cross his knees. “You
disappeared for a week, so there is an organized effort to find you, Lucy.”
“My longtime boyfriend proposed to me two months ago with this ugly
ring his mom picked out. I said ‘yes’ because we were in front of all my
friends and family, but even at the time, I was wondering if I was making a
mistake. My best friend Mikayla knows. I’ll just say I had to think about it by
myself, and I had to be alone.” Oran’s expression flared in interest, and I
flopped back in my chair to heave the most exhausted sigh possible. Mateo
hadn’t woken up, yet, but he was doing a lot worse than me. Now, seeing him
hooked up to tubes, lying on his front, his back covered in bandages— it was
a beautiful sight. “The TV shows lied to me.”
“Mateo is . . . a very unique kind of person, Lucy. He’s been through a
lot.” Sniffling harshly, I only gulped down the snot that pooled at the back of
my throat, and Oran and I fell into a peaceful silence. Staring at the ceiling
through bleary, achy eyes, the congealed week that’d slipped by flickered
broken behind my sockets. An ache sprung up against my temple, and Oran
only intensified it when he continued. “Lucy, if you want, we can set you up
with a therapist of ours. Someone you don’t have to lie to.”
“I just want to go see my dog. That’s enough therapy for me.” Tilting my
head to gaze at Oran, I frowned at the concern knitting his brows. “What?”
“I’d firmly suggest you talk to someone before you head home, Lucy.”
Pursing my lips thinly, I only jerked my head in a nod, and Oran steepled his
fingers as I laid my head back down on the edge of the hospital bed. I was
tired, and I just wanted to go home, but I didn’t want to leave Mateo here
alone. “It’s a difficult situation for you to be in, I know, but keeping those
secrets pent up in you is going to eat away at you, Lucy. You were held
hostage for a week, and even though it could’ve been worse, it was still a
terrible thing you had to endure.”
“Yeah.” I just agreed with him, my blurred gaze fixing on the ring on my
finger as it glinted in the low light streaming down from above. We were in a
nice hospital, a small one by all accounts. I didn’t know if the place was
empty because the wing was bought out or something, or if it was just a slow
hospital, but the peace was nice. “If you say so.”
Maybe, Oran realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere with me, and he
stood up to leave me in the comfort of the rank stench of cleaner and steady
beeping of machines. When the door shut gently, Mateo squeezed my hand,
and my breath hitched in surprise when he turned his head to face me.
“You’re awake! Oh, my God, you’re awake!” Relief and happiness
leaked from my eyes, and Mateo cracked a small smile as he gingerly rolled
his shoulders. The bandages on his back stretched, the tape crinkling quietly,
and I reached my free hand to stroke his face with trembling fingers. “Mateo .
..”
“Hey, I didn’t know your hair was blonde.” Blubbering a laugh at his
croak, I sniffled hard, and my face heated as Mateo carefully rolled onto his
side. His face twisted with a wince, and my heart leaped into my throat when
he sat up with a low grunt. “Are you okay, Lucy?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. Because of you.” Reaching to wipe my eyes with his
thumb, Mateo smiled so beautifully, the relief palpably spewing from his
pores as I nodded furiously. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
“I still think I might. I know Oran likes to do things quiet, but that was
surreal. I keep thinking I’ll open my eyes and we’ll still be in that room.”
Climbing onto the hospital bed, I wrapped my arms around Mateo’s neck to
hold him tight, and the faint smell of him was calming and familiar.
Goosebumps washed my arms and chest as he rubbed my sides and up my
back, and I closed my eyes to bury my face in the crook of his shoulder. “I
heard what you said about your alibi. Is that the truth about your friend?”
“Mikayla? She knows that I regret saying ‘yes’, so she’ll back me up. At
least, in front of people, she will. There’s no way she’ll not know I’m lying,
though. What do I tell her?” My mumble earned me a low groan of
acknowledgement, and Mateo cupped the back of my head to knead my
scalp.
“The best lies are the ones closest to the truth, so tell her you shacked up
with a guy for a week. It’s as close to true as you can get. You didn’t cheat or
anything, but you had a lot of time to think and someone to bounce your
thoughts off of. If she asks how we met, just say we booked the same room
by accident.” That was an interesting way to spin things, and I nodded firmly
as Mateo’s thickening beard scraped my temple. “If she keeps asking, just tell
her it was a really rough, soul-searching journey, and you don’t want to give
details.”
“I don’t want to leave you.” The confession dried my mouth, and Mateo’s
hand paused against my scalp as his heart stuttered against mine. Tightening
my grip on him, I held my breath as my lungs became small and tight, and he
pressed his cheek against my temple firmly.
“You have to, Lucy. You have people to get back to. I bet your dog
misses you like crazy.” A sad lilt in his tone nearly stopped my heart, and
Mateo pulled back to cup my face in both his hands. His smile was hallow
and shriveled, and I hiccupped a sob as he pressed his forehead against mine.
“That’s reason enough to go back to Tennessee, right? For your dog.”
“Mateo . . . ”
“Hey, can you go get me something to eat? I’m starving.” His palms fell
from my skin, leaving me ice cold, and I nodded mutely before throwing my
legs over the side of the bed. Mateo arched and grumbled and hissed as he
twisted, throwing his elbows out, and tingles shot up and down my legs when
I put my weight on them. Dread gnawed through my gut, and I glanced back
as he raised his arms above his head.
Even after the past week, he was toned and muscular. Maybe, that wasn’t
a long time, but . . .
 “Oh, Lucy, can you get the nurse for me, too.” I nodded again, and my
soles barely left the linoleum as I shuffled out of the room. Shutting the door
behind me, I swiped back my hair and rubbed my hands up my face roughly
to heave a massive sigh. The hallway was quiet, and I made my way to the
nurse’s station to get someone into Mateo’s room. Everything in me
screamed to go back, to hold him and never let go, and I crossed my arms
tightly over my chest to keep my heart from breaking through my ribs.
6

Mateo
“You sound different than you did before.” The words filtered through my
scope of comprehension weakly, and I glanced over at Oran through the
swirling, polarized glass. Water soaked my hair and stung my back fiercely,
but I barely felt it. I was just glad to be clean, and I swept back my hair
absently. “Wanna talk about it?”
“What’s there to talk about? All they did was whip me. Occasionally, I
took a punch to the face. Standard stuff. Honestly, I was kinda disappointed.”
Sourness dribbled from my teeth like acid, and I placed both my palms on the
tiled wall to stretch. My sternum popped satisfyingly, and my lip curled up
when the cuts on my back screamed in protest. “S-shit, I mean, there’s not
much to say.”
“Lucy’s going home today.” That declaration hurt more than my back,
and I ducked my head to pop the joints high on my spine. Every part of me
was stiff, but the warm water helped. “Is it because of the kidnapping, or
because of her?”
“Is what, Oran? I had a life-altering, catastrophic event happen, and
you’re wondering if it did alter my life? Yes, it did. Yeah, it was her. What’s
your point? Lucy’s going back to Tennessee, and me, I’ll go back to being
Carlyle’s bitch.” He was quiet at the harshness in my tone, and I flopped my
head back roughly to straighten and twist the water off sharply. Bitterness
flooded my chest, and sourness coated my tongue as I pushed open the door
and glared at my brother. “Do you know how hard it was to pretend that I
knew for sure, with absolute certainty, that we were going to be rescued?
That someone was looking for us? That you or Carlyle would find us? When I
didn’t really believe that myself? I mean, where the fuck was, he when I was
ready to jump out the window of a penthouse? Where were you, huh, Oran?
Why does anyone care about me now when no one cared about me before?
Oh, suddenly the only people who can abuse me are Carlyle and his fucking
sadistic secretary?”
“You’re my brother, Mateo. Even if Carlyle abandoned you, I wouldn’t.”
Gulping down the dense lump in my throat, I snatched the towel off the hook
to wrap it around my waist, and Oran took off his glasses to wipe the lenses
with his t-shirt hem. “I’ve offered almost every time we talked for you to
come to Seattle, and you always said ‘no’. I know being under Carlyle’s heel
like that is depressing. I did that, remember? And, like you, I had to go
through a horrible, horrible event to make me see it wasn’t worth it. Even if
Carlyle didn’t approve, I would find you. It’d maybe take me a while, but I
would.”
“I realized that, Oran.” My back burned, and I exhaled a heavy breath
through my nose as Oran caught my gaze, fixing his glasses on his nose. The
ugly feelings I held didn’t die down, though, and a frown twisted my lips as I
stepped out of the bathroom. “I just . . . getting kidnapped and tortured is
supposed to be a person’s low point. It’s not supposed to feel like one of the
easier things I’ve been through.”
“You’re optimistic about the future, though, now . . . ” Trailing off, Oran
arched a brow quizzically, and I clenched my jaw hard as my face heated in
annoyance. “Unless that was an act for Lucy, too.”
“You know what they say— you lie enough to yourself, you start to
believe it.” Scratching my scruff sharply, I walked over to the sink to glare at
myself in the mirror. My brother was right, though— I sounded different. I
looked different. “I’m sure that once I go back, it’ll just end up the same
again. That’s okay, though, Oran. It really is. This is karma at its finest, and,
yeah, I exaggerated for Lucy because she doesn’t deserve any of this shit.”
“Neither do you, Mateo. You know- Carlyle’s not the only one that
bosses people around.” The deep, dark tone rolled down my spine, and I
turned to find my dad in all his aged-like-fine-wine glory standing in the
doorway to my room. His usually bright, peppy bowtie was missing, his long,
thin body draped in a powerful, all black suit. Normally, my dad tried to dress
light to hide the fact that he was a soulless bastard, but now . . . now, he
looked a heck of a lot like the Horseman Death in Supernatural.
“What are you doing here, Dad?” The last time my father and I spoke was
almost a year ago, when he told me he’d give me an out, and all I had to do
was take it. Nothing ever happened. Maybe, he just never got around to it.
Maybe, he never cared enough to think up something to back up his offer.
Wandering into the room, he shut the door behind him and cast his blank
eyes on me. Even if he could mimic everything else perfectly, his eyes told
the truth.
“I came to check on you. You’re my son, and I’ve always tried to make
you feel like you mean something to me. If I wasn’t who I am, you’d still
have turned out the same, Mateo.” My cheek twitched at that, but I couldn’t
exactly argue about it. Up until a year ago, I didn’t even know Dad was a
sociopath. I never, ever got the feeling he didn’t genuinely care about me,
even though he’d never not pretended. Pulling a large envelope out of his
inner jacket pocket, he held it out to me, and his gnarled, arthritic-bulging
fingers gripped it loosely. “This is your out.”
“Right.” Suspicion thickened my tone, and I took the envelope to toss it
carelessly onto my bed. Awkwardness stretched with the silence, and I
swiped back my hair to send droplets down my back to sting my cuts. The
thick, manila folder kept catching my eye, but I closed my eyes to hold back
an exhausted sigh. “What’s going to happen now? I’m pretty drugged up
right now, but . . . ”
“What do you mean? You can do whatever you want, Mateo. I assume
that you don’t want to go back to New York. You don’t have to.” My brows
rose, and my chest tightened as I sucked in a sharp breath. Goosebumps
bristles down my arms, and my dad smiled reassuringly. “Carlyle will
probably act like you never existed, but I doubt you’ll have a problem with
that.”
“S-so, I can . . . I can just . . . ” Disbelief softened my tone, and an
indescribably feeling gripped my heart tightly when my dad nodded firmly.
“Good. That’s good.”
Stumbling a little to sit on the bed, I gazed blearily at the tiled floor, and
the air rushed from my lungs. Covering my mouth to hide my smile, my
hands and shoulders tremored, and that nipping cold that constantly hung
over me finally lifted. My mind circled those words over and over again.
You can do whatever you want. Anything I don’t want to do, I don’t have
to.
Wow. That was nuts. That was insane. Carlyle couldn’t order be around
and step on my hand when I grumbled denial. He couldn’t send me to some
shit-stain city to get me out of the way. To him, I didn’t exist anymore. I was
a non-person.
A rasping laugh burst from my throat, my smile widening until tears
squeezed from my eyes and my cheeks ached.
“Mateo! I go—” Lucy broke into the hospital room only to stop short
when she noticed I wasn’t alone, and the large, paper bag in her hand
rumpled loudly. “I-I . . . um . . . am I . . . I’ll knock again in a couple
minutes.”
“No, come in.” Standing up, I gestured Lucy into the room, and she
wandered in cautiously, eyes darting between my brother and father. “What’s
in the bag?”
“Ooh, I wasn’t sure what you like, specifically, so I got a bacon burger,
with extra bacon, and, um, yeah. Here.” Setting the bag on the foot of the
bed, Lucy ducked her head, and my stomach gurgled greedily. “You’re
bleeding. I’m gonna go get the doctor.”
“Yeah.” Pulling out a Styrofoam container, I popped the top to gaze at the
mass of fries topped in cheese, bacon, and jalapeños. The next container had
two burgers, and the third and final container was full of onion rings, and my
mouth watered heavily. “You’re the best, Lucy.”
I tore my eyes off the food to smile at Lucy, but she looked so
uncomfortable and sad under the thick crease between her brows. For a
second, the delicious smell took the back burner, and confusion washed my
chest as she gulped harshly. Lucy’s washed, fluffy, golden blonde hair
swished when she nodded, and thick, red rings surrounded her eyes before
she whipped around and walked out.
Rolling my jaw, I frowned at the empty doorway before turning back to
the spread in front of me. All of a sudden, I’m not very hungry.
7

Lucy
“Mom stop yelling. I’m fine. I’m calling from a hospital because it was the
only place I could find with a free phone.” Sliding down to sit on the floor, I
held my forehead in my palm as my mom breathed fire in my ear. “Just stop
yelling. I didn’t mean to worry you, but I had a lot to think about, and I didn’t
want anyone trying to poison my opinion.”
The explanation was weak, but I was tired and couldn’t think of anything
else. Leaning on the edge of the nurse’s station ominously, the guy who’d
rescued us— not Mateo’s brother, but the other guy— pretended not to be
monitoring what I said. Pulling my knees up at my mom’s astonished silence,
I inhaled deeply, closed my eyes, and held my breath for a long second
before continuing. “
“I’m gonna be home, like, tomorrow. Who’s been taking care of
Marshal?” It was telling, how I missed my dog more than I missed anyone
else. Of course, I did miss my family, but they’d be pissed and judge me and
not bother trying to understand why I ‘went to think’. When Seth and I had
been dating for about eight months, I’d wanted to break up with him over his
fifty-fifty rule, but my mom convinced me not to.
Which was stupid, because she cheated on my dad, got divorced, then got
dumped. It’s not like she knows good men, and that went for my dad, too.
“I have. You know how busy Seth is. He doesn’t need a dog that’s not his
on his plate, too. You know, Lucillia, you’re so irresponsible not telling
anyone and leaving your phone and everything! Something could’ve
happened to you!” She flew into a rage again, and I held the phone away
from my ear before she blew out my hearing as well as my sanity. “Everyone
was so worried about you! Do you even understand what trouble you’ve
caused? The police came to my work to talk to me about you being missing.
My work! And you call out of the blue to say you were just thinking things
out! Honestly, Lucy!”
My gaze drifted up to the guy watching me out of the corner of his eye—
Theo, I think— and he scowled darkly. I could only shrug, since this was
fairly normal, and I just had to wait for my mom to run out of steam. No
amount of explaining was enough for her, and I knew that when I got home,
she’d act like this conversation never happened. She’s good at that, ignoring
the unsavory shit and pretending she was nasty sometimes.
“I went to a casino and won ten thousand dollars, so, obviously it wasn’t
a total loss.” Theo snorted a laugh at my attempt to cut through my mom’s
blind fury, and she sputtered a little as I put the phone back against my ear. “I
stayed in a hotel and they accidentally double booked, so I got a room for
free. I went to the casino just to pass the time, and I hit the jackpot on some
game. It was just a decision, Mom, to just step back and look at my life and
decide where it was going and where I wanted it to go. I felt like I had to, so I
did, and I don’t regret it.”
I don’t know why I was explaining myself to my mom I could do what I
want, when I wanted, and she wasn’t entitled to know about it. True, I was
lying out my teeth, but Mateo’s dad gave me a lot of money- way more than
just ten thousand dollars. He even hugged me and thanked me, for why I
wasn’t sure, but . . .
“You know, Mom, when Grandma died, she told me not to let anyone’s
expectations of me get in the way of my expectations for myself. Even
though I’ve lived there for almost ten years, I feel like I forgot what she
really gave me.” The fine hairs on my face prickled at the silence, and I
rested my cheek on my knees to sigh. “I have to go, but I’ll be back around
noon tomorrow.”
I held up the phone before she could speak up, and Theo snatched it to
stick it on the receiver. Only then did I feel like I could breathe, and the
anxiety gripping me in a vise relaxed as I leaned against the wall of the
nurse’s station.
“That’s your story?” Shuffling to sit next to me, Theo rubbed his face
with his mangled hand, and I stared at it unashamedly, almost in adoration,
before he held it out. “A tire exploded while I was deployed and sliced my
fingers off. It wasn’t so bad. My girl likes it.”
“Did you go in because you were told to?” Scrunching up my face at how
insensitive my question sounded, I frowned when Theo shook his head.
“Honestly, I did it because I was poor, and they paid for college. I was
gonna be an engineer, but I wound up in the infantry. No one ever told me
not to. No one wanted me to, though, either. The only person that cares about
your happiness is you.” Theo’s gruff voice scraped my ears almost painfully,
and he shot me a grim smirk as he propped his bulging forearms on his knees.
“Mateo’s not the same kid he was when I met him. It’s fucking insane,
honestly. That little brat that threw a drunk tantrum for no reason, spent
money like crazy . . . you know, I was his bodyguard, but I always felt like
his fucking nanny.”
“That’s what he said, too, but I don’t see it.”
“Good. I’m sure he’s not proud of who he was, but at least he grew out of
it. Carlyle’s always going to be a heartless, cruel asshole. The only reason he
gave in is because his father is even more a cruel bastard than he is.” As he
spoke, I fiddled with my engagement ring, and my frown darkened as the
crease between my brows deepened. “Is that guy a loser?”
“He’s an ambitious, stingy gentleman.” The scrubs a nurse had been so
nice to give to me rustled as I stood up, and I shook my head. “I’m gonna go
see Mateo before I leave.”
Walking away from the nurse’s station, I knocked on Mateo’s door
gently, and his muffled call to enter eased some of the tension between my
shoulders. I stepped into the room, and he was stuffing a battered onion ring
into his mouth and froze when he saw me. He’d trimmed his scruff, and I
blinked to capture the image of him sitting on the bed in just a towel,
cramming his face. My throat tightened, and I clenched my jaw hard when he
gulped down his bite without really chewing.
“Lucy, hey, what’s up?” Clearing his throat, Mateo sat back as I perched
on the foot of his bed, and I pulled up my legs to sit cross-legged. “I thought
you’d be gone by now. What time is your cab supposed to be here?”
“Pretty soon.” The atmosphere became somber, and Mateo’s lips twisted
in something between a smile and a grimace. “I-I came to say goodbye. I was
hoping . . . I was hoping maybe I could convince you to come visit me
sometime. You don’t have to come to Tennessee—”
“Lucy, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Discomfort and sadness
thickened his tone, and my heart stuttered painfully as Mateo sighed heavily.
“You should go home and try to forget everything that happened. Lie to
yourself until you believe it.”
“What if I can’t forget?” No, I didn’t want to forget, and I probably never
would. Mateo wasn’t responsible for what happened, but he was the reason I
got through it with minimal scarring. Because he has all the scars that were
meant for me. His cheek twitched as the silence stretched into a still void, and
I wrung my hands in my lap in distress.
Did Mateo blame himself for my getting snatched after work? Did he
blame himself for me agreeing to overtime, and being in the wrong place at
the wrong time? A gaping hole opened up in my chest when he just sat there,
quiet, not looking at me, and I managed a shuddering, shallow breath.
“If you’re ever in Jackson, Tennessee, look me up.” Cold slithered to
wrap around my bones and infect every part of me as I sluggishly stood up,
but Mateo didn’t answer. Leaving his room, I leaned heavily on the door as
tears clogged my throat and nose completely and leaked from my eyes.
Why? What was I supposed to do, now? Get in a cab that’ll drive me ten
hours to my house? And when I got home, I was going to just ignore
everything that happened in the last nine days?
What if I never saw Mateo again?
8

Mateo
“I’ll be heading to the airport in, like, three hours, May. Mateo’s more
important right now than—” We were walking, talking, and Oran cut himself
off with a slight scowl as he slipped his phone into his pants pocket. “She
hung up on me. Anyway, are you sure you don’t want me to stay a couple
more days, Mateo?”
“She’d probably stab you if you did.” My observation earned me a wry
smirk, and Oran ran his hand through his hair as I hiked up my jeans. He’d
been kind enough to grab me new clothes, but contrary to popular belief, I
didn’t feel as good as I looked. “I’m gonna buy a car and just start driving.
I’ll end up where I end up.”
“It was strange being on my own. I hope you have an easy time figuring
out what you want to do in life, Mateo. Your college educated, have more
money than you can ever spend, and you can do just about anything. You’ve
already proven that.” Humming softly, I tensed when Oran clapped a palm on
my shoulder gingerly; every time I breathed, my stitches would tug at my
skin, and I ground my teeth against the sting. “I’m proud of who you became.
It took a while, and it wasn’t pretty, but you endured, Mateo. That counts for
a lot.”
“I appreciate that, Oran. I just want to leave this all behind. You know,
my new last name is ‘Turnin’. My name is Mateo Turnin now.” We shared a
laugh at that, but the fact that I had a new last name was fucking wild- and it
wasn’t even a cool last name. Mine wasn’t even a common name like ‘Smith’
or something. “I’m just glad I don’t have to go back to New York City. I hate
that place. I’ve always hated that city, and Carlyle knew it. That’s why he
sent me there. And that crazy bitch of a secretary . . . ”
“What about Lucy? Are you going to ignore her and how close you two
got so quickly?” I didn’t answer immediately, instead stepping through the
automatic, sliding glass doors and into the thick, beautiful rays of the sun.
Closing my eyes, I turned my face to the warmth and took a deep breath,
ignoring the sting in my back under my plain, gray t-shirt. Oran didn’t press
me for a reply, and I exhaled slowly to crack my eyes open.
 I didn’t know Lynchburg, Virginia, very well, but I could buy a phone
and figure things out. The warm air was just bordering on sweltering, and that
was because of the nice breeze that weaved through the strands of my
clothes. Savoring this moment, like I’d just got out of prison after years and
years, I gazed around at the hospital’s side lawn and couldn’t help but smile.
But, all too soon, Oran’s question infiltrated my mind, and my smile
drooped into a frown as an abyss opened up in my chest. My stomach
churned, and I clenched and unclenched my jaw as I glanced over at my
brother.
“Lucy . . . I guess it doesn’t matter anymore what I felt in that room. If it
wasn’t for those stupid grease monkey’s idea to get me, get someone else
from half a dozen states away, and meet up in the middle, we would’ve never
met.” And that was so, so sad. Lucy would haunt me forever, I knew, and
what was worse, she knew it, too. “Besides, she has a dog to go home to.
That’s enough of a reason, I think.”
“Oh, speaking of which, you should take a trip to Nevada. Esmarissa’s
brother’s monster dog had his last litter a couple of weeks ago. There’ll be no
more, and those are supposedly some great dogs.” My brows rose at that, and
Oran nodded firmly as he squeezed my shoulder. “You should snatch one or
two.”
“You know, I will. Hey, can you check any nearby used car dealerships?”
He pulled his phone out again, and I cleared my throat as I arched my back
gingerly. “So, your girlfriend, May, does she get jealous easy?”
Discomfort dribbled from my tongue, talking about something so
mundane, and Oran scoffed lightly. Shuffling over to a bench, I sat down but
couldn’t relax. All I could do was stretch my legs, and even that sent pinprick
pain up my spine.
“She’s just stressed, and when she gets stressed, she needs someone to be
mad at. It’s been a rough ten months for her with the business. They’re
getting ready to start production. It’s a huge step.” Dropping down heavily,
Oran tapped away on his phone screen, and I ducked my head in a nod. “I
don’t get why she’d stab me. It’s not like she lets me have any say-so in her
business. All she does is snap at me, and then she apologizes afterwards, and
all is good.”
“You love her?”
“I wouldn’t put up with her if I didn’t.” The answer came surprisingly
fast, and Oran paused his tapping away to glance over at me. His eyes
flashed, and he inhaled deeply through his nose before opening his mouth
again. “I think you letting Lucy go is honorable and stupid. You should go
after her and not let her go. But I don’t think you’re wrong, Mateo.”
“If I ever see her again, I’m not gonna make the same mistake twice.”
The promise flooded the void in my chest, and I sighed as it pushed my lungs
up against my shoulders. Mine was the only thing I could think of— one
time, a single traumatic event that wasn’t supposed to happen but did. I
couldn’t put stock in that. A second time, somewhere neutral, somewhere that
wasn’t a concrete box . . .
I didn’t care if Lucy was married already. Everything in me screamed that
making her leave was wrong, and if I got the chance to make it right, I would.
Without hesitation.
“I hope you get that chance, Mateo.” The conversation fizzled out, and I
enjoyed the calm, warm weather as my mind wandered to what was next.
Lucy had already left, so my opportunity was definitely beyond my grasp. I
wanted to go to Nevada, like Oran suggested, but I doubted my back could
handle all that driving. Reaching to scratch my face, I rolled my jaw as an
itch spread down my neck ravenously. “So, there’s a car dealership about two
miles away. Did you want to walk, or . . . ”
“I don’t think I should push it right now.” My brother nodded, easily
navigating his phone for an Uber or Lyft, and I inhaled sharply as I
straightened to push against my thighs. The joints all up my back popped, and
relief slumped my shoulders as that garbage I’d eaten flooded my body with a
pleasant sludge. “The doctor says I’ll be on the antibiotics for my infection
for another two weeks, and I need to get my stitches removed in, like, ten
days. The cuts aren’t bad. They’ll heal up completely in a month or so, I
guess. He seemed surprised I didn’t have any broken bones.”
“Yeah, well, we’re not gonna worry about the Italians anymore. When
Dad ordered Carlyle to storm their place when we figured out exactly where
you were, he was so pissed. I’ve never seen him so mad.” A small smirk
tilted my lips at the mental image, and I exhaled slowly before standing up to
stretch my arms over my head. Wincing at the ever-present sting that flared in
protest, I clasped my hands together to crack my knuckles, and Oran stood up
himself with a chuckle. “So, what kind of car do you want to get?”
“Honestly, I haven’t even thought of it. I’ll see what there is when we get
there.” That was going to be my only answer for everything from now on,
and damnit if it didn’t feel good to not have my life planned out. Oran
smirked broadly, and I rocked back and forth on my heels to stretch my legs
as I thought about that. Ever since I graduated college, Carlyle sent me
everywhere he thought I wouldn’t make a mess, but I always managed to
impress him anyway. He couldn’t get rid of me— he could only send me
somewhere else. I’d been to a few places, but never because I wanted to.
But that was all different, now. Now, I was Mateo Turnin, Bachelor of
Music and Bachelor of Science in Music . . . not Mateo Santino, snot-nosed
little brother to the great, psychopathic Carlyle.
At least, starting over, I was able to keep my degrees. My father hadn’t
given me a new identity, he’d just changed my last name, expedited by a
hefty sum, of course.
“You know what’d be cool? If you renovated a bus—” Barking a laugh at
that, I turned to Oran as he downright grinned, nodding furiously at his own
suggestion. “Seriously, Mateo, don’t you think so? A home on wheels, and it
could be a small bus, so you don’t need an extra license.”
“Yeah, that would be cool.” Agreeing with him just because, I rubbed my
jaw and neck as a car pulled up on the curb, and Oran’s phone gave a shrill
ping for attention. “Let me know if you see a bus . . . but I still need a car.”
9

Lucy
“Thank you again for driving me all the way here.” Leaning into the window,
I patted my hips for my wallet only to realize I had no money. I had no
pockets, and I surely didn’t have my wallet on me. The guy in the driver’s
seat smiled tiredly, a guilt warmed my cheeks even as he waved me off.
“Easiest, smoothest five grand I ever made.” I was definitely going to
give this driver five stars; he didn’t ask any questions, just drove three states
over to drop me at my mom’s house. I mean, yeah, it took fourteen hours
instead of ten because of backroads and whatnot, but I could live with that.
Stepping back onto the sidewalk, I ran my hands through my hair as he pulled
off the curb, and my smile instantly died.
Slowly turning to my mom’s house, like that iconic scene in most horror
movies when the monster is over the girl’s shoulder, my eyes instantly started
to throb. I could already hear her bombarding me with questions, and none of
them were ‘are you okay?’.
But I wanted my dog, and my mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so
maybe I’d get lucky.
Walking up the path lined with little flowers, I reached above the door
frame for the extra key to unlock the door. I could hear my dog’s nails
scraping against the wood as he plodded his way over, and I pushed open the
barrier before he smelled me. Marshal instantly started wagging his tail, his
chocolate brown fur bristling, and he shivered as he bounced around on his
paws. He didn’t bark, but he did smile that dog smile at me as he promptly
peed all over the floor.
Guilt clawed at my throat, and I crouched down to gingerly pet Marshal’s
head as tears welled in my eyes. My chest tightened, and he licked and licked
as he tried to get as close to me as he could. He was so careful about it, not
jostling his body to knock me over, but to buffer against me, and I sniffled
harshly.
“Let’s get out of here.” I was a few hours early, and the morning sun and
heat stifled my words and dried my mouth. Without bothering to clean him
up, I reached around to lock the door and stood up, and Marshal hugged
between my legs and licked my hands and fingers. My house was a block
away, and, at the very least, I was glad I had forgotten my purse that day and
didn’t come back to get it.
The perks of working so close to home.
“I’m sorry for disappearing on you, Marshal.” If I can just get home, I can
sleep this pain away. My dog calmed at the sad, slow lilt in my tone, and I
shuffled along the sidewalk as he headbutted my crotch. The only thing
keeping me standing, now that I was here, was Marshal, and dread gripped
me at the knowledge that things were about to get really complicated. I had to
call Mikayla first before anyone, and then I had to call Seth.
Glancing down at the ugly, block-shaped ring on my finger, I grimaced
darkly, and Seth’s face popped up behind my lids when I blinked. He was
handsome, sure, but he was also a bit of a jerk, and his dimples and cleft chin
didn’t make up for that. Seth tolerated my dog, and I reached to pet Marshal
as I let my mind wander to my declaration to break up with him.
Truth be told, I’d thought about it a few times before, but I never worked
up the nerve to dump Seth. My friends and family loved him- his family
loved me- we got on well if his penny-pinching ways and general disdain for
my garden wasn’t in the equation. I just lost that spark about seven months in
when Seth made me pay him back for something I didn’t even buy.
It was a blanket, a throw blanket that he left at my house and had never
taken back.
I turned a corner and my house came into view, the small, two-bedroom,
single floor house that my granddad bought for his only grandchild. The pale
siding was painfully familiar, and I could already see weeds growing in the
front garden. My fingers itched to rip everything out and start over again, but
it was a little late for that.
I’m gonna have to pick some stuff, though. Being gone a week was a long
time to go without harvesting, and I frowned as I came up on my house just
one lot from the corner. The walkway was covered in dirt because I hadn’t
been around to sweep it, and it was plainly obvious that no one else was
going to take the time.
My heart squeezed, and I opened the screen door only to find the front
door locked. Sniffling harshly, I shuffled down the path skirting the house
toward the back, and I pulled my hair back to tie it around itself. The breeze
cooled the sweat coating my neck, and I sniffled harshly as a dense lump
formed in my throat.
 Marshal slithered out from between my legs, and I paused to watch him
run through my garden. A surprise squeak echoed through the air, and
Mikayla jumped up with clumps of weeds in her hands. Her bouncy, blonde
curls held back in a tight bun under a wide-brimmed sun hat, and she
whipped around to squawk at the sight of me. Everything happened in slow
motion as she dropped her handfuls, and I crossed my arms over myself as
my best friend rushed through my garden, most of which was weeded.
“You weeded my garden.” Mikayla threw herself at me, rocking and
squeezing and crying loudly, and I tensed as she knocked the air from my
lungs. The smell of her was so good, and I wrapped my arms around her
waist to hold her as her heart rampaged against my chest. “Sorry for worrying
you.”
“Lucy, oh, man, I missed you. I was so-o worried. I thought you got
kidnapped or something!” Scrunching up my face at that, my body wound
tighter when she suddenly snapped back, grabbing my face in both her dirt-
caked hands to glare at me. “Your mom said you went to a casino and blew
ten thousand dollars! What the hell! You couldn’t invite me!”
“What? No. I won ten thousand dollars. I . . . ” We’d been friends since
kindergarten, and Mikayla’s eyes narrowed on me before I could even start
reciting my lies. “I . . . I’m not allowed to talk about it, Mikayla. Seriously,
it’s better to just not ask. I just need you to- to back me up. Right?”
“Um, okay. Why can’t you talk about it? You can tell me that, at least,
right?” Gnawing on my bottom lip diligently, I inhaled deeply, and Mikayla’s
light gray eyes scanned me from top to bottom. “Why are you wearing
scrubs?”
“Uh, I got thrown up on and had no change of clothes?” She arched a
well-groomed brow, and I winced at my own, unsteady voice. “Mikayla, I
can’t talk about it. Basically, everything that happened the past week, I got
paid a lot of money to pretend it never happened. Let’s go inside.”
“Oh-h-h . . . like, ten thousand dollars a lot, or . . . whatever happened, I
don’t care. I’m glad you’re back, Lucy. Your mom said you were going to be
back around noon. You’re early. This was supposed to be a surprise, damnit.”
Swatting my arm, Mikayla glared at me, her thin cheeks turning pink under
her hat, and I nodded tiredly as I shuffled onto the patio. My back-sliding
door was open, but the screen was shut, and I walked into my house for the
first time in over a week.
Everything was where I’d left it, and a strange emotion flooded my chest,
like this place was dark and dank and I didn’t want to be here alone.
“Will you stay with me for a few weeks, Mikayla?” The question slipped
out of my mouth before I could stop it, and I twisted to watch her nod without
hesitation. Warmth suffused my chest, and I pulled open the refrigerator to
grab the full pitcher of lemon iced tea that had been empty when I left for
work that fateful morning. “To be honest, it’s a lot. Like, okay, don’t tell my
mom, but it’s ten thousand dollars times, like, five thousand. I couldn’t just
tell my mom that, though, because you know how she gets. And you can’t tell
anyone, either, Micky.”
“Okay, as long as you never deny me a loan.” A huff escaped me as she
smirked cheekily, and I nodded as I set the heavy pitcher down and grabbed
two large glasses. “No, seriously, Lucy. I’m just glad you’re back. I felt like I
was the only one seriously worried about you. You know, Seth didn’t even
want to go to the police to report you missing? He said you probably went for
a hike or something, but you always bring Marshal.”
“I just told you I have fifty million dollars and you don’t even care.” The
constant ache in my eyes spread to my whole face, and I gulped down the
dense lump in my throat as Mikayla sucked her teeth sadly. “You’re a gr-
great friend . . . ”
“Oh, Lucy.” The crack of my voice struck the kitchen like lightning, and
Mikayla wrapped her arms around me to stroke my hair comfortingly.
“You’re my best friend. I love you.”
10

Lucy
Panting furiously, Mateo held himself up with powerful arms braced against
the concrete, and my heart threatened to explode. He tensed, his eyes
narrowing on mine before his entire body jolted from the impact, and the
sharp whistle and snap of metal breaking skin echoed in my ears over the
blood drumming. He only grunted, his teeth clenched so hard his gums were
white, and he ducked his head to blow out a fiery, heavy breath through his
nose.
“Fuck. Shit.” Mateo took a few breaths while I couldn’t see his face, and
that maniacal, gloating laughter bounced off the concrete to rattle my brain.
The man with the whip pulled back his arm again, but a shout from outside
the room stopped him from delivering another blow. The frigid sweat
creating icicles on my skin started up again, and I reached trembling, cold
fingers to cup his face.
He was so pale, and his eyes were unhealthily bright, and even as
darkness closed in around us, Mateo’s silhouette shimmered from sweat and
blood. The smell of him was almost nausea-inducing, but I didn’t recoil when
he collapsed against my chest. All I had to do was hold my breath, but there
was no point in that because I couldn’t escape the smell. I just had to get
used to it.
“Mateo!” Jerking up as the croak echoed in the silence, I panted as
furious shivers strafed my spine, and I blinked blearily while my brain
struggled to recognize my own bedroom. Tensing as Marshal crawled into
my lap to lick my chin and neck, I sniffled hard and closed my eyes to throw
myself back onto my pillow. My dog sprawled atop me, and I rubbed his
short fur as he slathered saliva all over me.
“What!” Bursting into my room, Mikayla frowned as I lifted my head,
and I covered my face with my arm. Marshal licked my sternum with long,
slow strokes of his tongue, and a huge breath squeezed past the tightness
restricting my throat as I groaned.
“Ugh-h-h! I just want to sleep. Oh, my God!” How was I supposed to get
used to this again when I couldn’t close my eyes without picturing Mateo? I
couldn’t stop thinking about him even when I focused on something else. He
was an ever-present image in my head that I couldn’t shake.
“It’s almost one p.m. Do you want to eat something?” Gingerly pushing
Marshal off me, I sat up again to rub my face roughly, and Mikayla eyed me
cautiously. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” But even I wasn’t convinced by my tone, and I threw
my legs over the side of my bed to heave a massive sigh. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost one p.m.” Repeating herself, slower this time, my best friend
watched me like a hawk, and goosebumps pocked my skin as I stood up. My
pajama shorts and shirt clung to me from the sweat seeping from my pores,
and I swept back my hair as I arched my back sharply. “Who’s Mateo?”
Pausing to glance over at her, I pursed my lips thinly as I debated what to
say. No one ever told me I’d have nightmares, although, I suppose it was
expected. My mouth dried as the blood drumming in my ears faded, and my
heart stabilized against my ribs as sadness gripped it in a vise.
“He’s a better man than Seth, for sure.” Seth wanted equality in
everything, from everyone, and I scrunched up my nose as what could’ve
been flowed through my mind’s eye. “I’m gonna break up with him.”
“Okay. Why is this time any different than the last time you said that?”
She didn’t pose it as an accusation, or even particularly sassy, and I shuffled
out of my room as my dog slid off my bed to follow us. “Is it because of this
Mateo guy? Did you find someone better?”
I almost snorted at that on the way through the living room, and we
entered the kitchen at the back of my house. The tiled floor was cold against
my feet, a stark contract to the carpet elsewhere, and I popped open the
refrigerator to peer inside. Nothing immediately jumped out at me, but I had
to throw away a bunch of stuff, anyway.
“Yeah, I did. I don’t know how to explain it.” The truth was that I did, I
just couldn’t, and Mikayla hummed softly as she leaned against the counter
by the sink. Pulling open the cheese drawer, I gathered all the contents and
dumped it in the trash with a more force than necessary. “I get it, okay. I get
why it had to end, but . . . I wish it didn’t.”
“Well, whatever happened, if you’re gonna break up with Seth, you
should do it and not put it off. Otherwise, it’ll just be the same.” No, I wasn’t
the same anymore. Shaking my head as I grabbed more stuff— wilted
vegetables, the half-gallon of milk, and a small package of ground beef— I
didn’t even bother looking at the expiration date. “Your phone is done
charging, too. Your moms called a few times. She left a really nasty
voicemail about Marshal peeing all over the entryway rug, I guess. I deleted
it.”
“Thanks. I really don’t need it right now. She’ll come over and pretend
she didn’t ream me out on the phone and get mysteriously quiet when I told
her I’m ten thousand dollars richer.” Speaking of which, I should call the
bank. Supposedly, the money would be there today, but I wasn’t sure if
keeping that much in one place was a great idea. Emptying my fridge, I
frowned at the sheer enormity of it. How could someone just give me fifty
million dollars. Wasn’t that a lot for any corporation?
Then again, considering what those guys were involved in, maybe it
wasn’t a lot.
“You know, I think it’s a good thing you lied to your mom. That’s a lot,
and it seems bottomless when it’s not. It’s easy to spend someone else’s
money, too, and it’s worse when it’s your mom. She can shame you like
crazy. Are you gonna pay your student debt off?” I shot her a dumb look, and
Mikayla blushed at how stupid her question was as I dumped my armful into
the now overflowing trash can. “I guess that’s a given. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m gonna call in a bit, and then I need to go to the grocery
store. I’m gonna make bacon burgers.” I closed the refrigerator and opened
the freezer, but everything in there was, well, frozen. “Maybe, I’ll get
Marshal some meat.”
“He’ll like that.” Licking my lips heavily, I nodded to myself. I gave my
dog raw lamb on a semi-regular basis, about once every two months. He
loved it, and I liked how it made his fur soft and shiny. Glancing over as
Marshal watched me, sitting by the trash can, I reached to pet his head, and
he grumbled happily. “How about I make dinner, and you can take him to the
dog park? He’s probably been cooped up at your mom’s house.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Mikayla.” Anxiety pooled in my gut at the idea of
leaving my house. No one knew I was back yet, and I inhaled deeply as I
rocked on my heels. “I should go to the police station, too, and let them know
I’m not missing.”
“You’re welcome.” This was such a hassle; I had to put on clothes and
wipe my face, but worse than that, I had to pretend I wasn’t a mess. In front
of people! Ugh! “Do you want me to run home and grab my car?”
“No. I want to walk.” Mikayla was such a good friend, and I nodded to
myself again before shuffling out of the kitchen. Marshal clung close to my
heels, and my toes dug into the carpet as I made my way to my bedroom.
“You know what, Marshal, I’m gonna quit my job. I’m gonna get another
dog, and I’m gonna break up with Seth.”
He gave a little woof as if he understood, and I smiled small as
determination seared through my chest.
This was what Mateo wanted, me to get back to my life, and I had to do
it. I had to go the direction I wanted, and screw everyone else! I was going to
be as happy as I could be, and if I ever saw Mateo again . . .
I wasn’t going to let him drive me away.
I shoved my butt into a pair of comfortable jeans and pulled on a plain,
bleach-stained tank top, silently repeating those three things I was going to
do. Of course, I wouldn’t do it today. Today, I had to go food shopping, I was
going to the dog park with Marshal, and I needed to go to the police station.
That was three things that had to be done right now.
And tomorrow, I’d do three more things.
The next day, I’d do three more things.
And maybe I won’t feel so sad and alone.
11

Mateo
Nevada was disgustingly hot and arid, and I pulled up in front of a
nondescript house among a bunch of other nondescript houses to park and
turn off my rental car. Staring at the wheel dazedly, I flexed my palms against
my thighs as anxiety threaded my veins, but I was here. I couldn’t just not go
in. Oran had told this guy to hold the dogs an extra few days specifically for
me.
Unbuckling myself, I got out of the dark blue hatchback before I could
think on it too much more, and I inhaled a huge breath and held it. Walking
up the driveway, my heart pounded harder and harder, and I knocked gently
before exhaling slowly in an effort to calm myself. The furious barking of a
dozen dogs blared through the barrier, and my chest tightened as I raked my
hand through my hair.
The door swung open, and I tensed as the hair on my face and the back of
my neck stood up.
“Uh, Carson, right? I’m—”
“I know who you are.” He’s worse than Theo. Jesus Christ. If these two
had a scowling competition, Theo would fucking lose, and I entered the
house with discomfort stiffening my knees. “You want two of them, right?
They’re in the kitchen.”
“Yeah. This is your last litter, right?”
“The dogs are almost nine years old.” As if that was supposed to make
sense, Carson glanced back at me through narrowed eyes. “You’re shorter
than your brothers.”
“At least I’m not a psychopath.” Carson paused at the entrance to the
kitchen where all the puppies were clawing at a tall gate, and I climbed over
it while he just stared at me. They were all gray and black, but one had a
sandy patch on top of his head right between his ears. I knelt down to get
bombarded with claws and licks. “They’re big for only eight weeks.”
“Their parents are big.” These dogs weren’t monstrous, twice the size or
something of what they should’ve been, but it was obvious they got the big-
and-tall genes in spades. Picking one up, it had to be about fifteen pounds,
and he wiggled and craned his massive head to try to lick my face.
And he wasn’t even the biggest one trying to climb up my legs.
There were two that didn’t try to climb up on me, a solid all-black puppy
and a gray and black patched one, and they seemed content just to sniff and
wiggle and investigate. I held out my hand to the black one, and he sniffed
my fingers before nibbling them with a little growl. The gray one was almost
a dappled color when he rolled onto his belly, and I couldn’t help but smile as
he wiggled against my leg.
“Do they have names?”
“No.” So personable. “I’ll go get their papers.” The gray dog squirmed
into my lap, and the others just sort of wandered off into the backyard when
they realized I wouldn’t pet them. I was going to get these pits trained, of
course, but according to my online searches, it wasn’t that difficult. Pit bulls
were a very trainable breed, and I hoisted them both up, one in each arm.
“What should I call you, huh?” They were both boys, but the gray pit
seemed cuddlier as he tried to claw over my shoulder. He didn’t try to gnaw
my fingers away, at least, and I sighed when he licked my face. “How about
Ketchup and Sriracha? Because I lack creativity and can’t think of anything
else.”
A silly kind of humor infected my tone, and I nodded absently to myself
before Carson ambled into my line of sight. He handed me two plain letter
envelops, one marked ‘Dog 4’ and the other ‘Dog 6’, and I took them before
he jerked his chin to the door.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” I clamored over the gate again, but Carson
ignored me to show me out. The door slammed shut behind me, leaving me
in the sweltering heat with these two puppies in my arms, and I shook my
head viciously. “Whatever.”
Were these dogs’ yard trained? What did they eat? I didn’t have a chance
to ask the most basic questions, but I guess I’d figure it out on the way to
wherever I was going. I wanted to leave Nevada behind and never go back,
and I set both dogs in the back seat before climbing into the front.
So far, so good. At least, I didn’t feel like this was a horrible mistake.
It didn’t take long for Sriracha to climb into the front passenger seat, and
I gazed at him as he propped his paws on the window to look out quizzically.
“Sriracha.” I didn’t expect a response, and I didn’t get one, and I
scratched my scruff absently. “This is gonna be an adventure.”
Which was exactly what I wanted, because I was alone again. Oran went
back to Seattle, and I was just here, by myself, being consumed by my
thoughts. I was drowning, and there were no hands to help pull me to the
surface. Bitterness stained my tongue, and I turned on the car to slowly pull
off the curb.
“I don’t even know what to do now.” Mumbling to myself, a depreciating
laugh bubbled up in my chest, and I clenched and released my jaw hard. No,
this wasn’t a mistake, but I sure as shit didn’t know what the fuck to do now. I
didn’t even have anywhere to take these dogs! “Shit.”
Following my GPS back the way I’d come, I tapped the steering wheel
absently while I watched Sriracha out of the corner of my eye. Ketchup
sprawled on the back seat, wiggling and worming and whining when I
glanced in the rearview mirror. They were so different in color and
personality— the only thing they shared seemed to be their hazel eyes.
Sriracha’s were lighter, startling given his pitch-black coat, but Ketchup’s
were pretty, almost.
If I just focused on them, this pain in my chest would go away eventually.
“Hey, have you two ever seen the woods? We’re gonna do that.” Sriracha
ignored me, but Ketchup jumped off the seat to wiggle up under my feet and
between my legs. Scooping him up to sit him in my lap, he wagged his tail
stump as he gazed out over the wheel, and I nodded firmly. “Let’s do that.”
I arched my back, the light throbbing easing briefly, and I made my way
to the nearest route that’d bring me to California. Maybe, Oran was right,
and I should’ve got a bus and renovated it or whatever. Rental cars were
expensive, and I scrunched up my face in distaste as I reached to unlock my
phone.
“Hey, Google, take me to the closest car shop inside California.” My
phone spewed back my demand, and I gnawed on my inner cheek
thoughtfully. “This distraction thing is workin’ already.”
Lucy would forget about me, and I would try my damnedest to forget
about her. If I was lucky, we’d never cross paths again, and I’d just wither
away, tormented. She’d get married, be happy, and everything I did in that
concrete room would’ve been worth it.
Tightening my grip on the wheel, I set my jaw under furrowed brows as
my stomach churned dangerously. Ketchup settled in my lap, and I gulped
down the bile that rose in my throat at the thoughts that beat against my
forehead.
12

Lucy
My phone rang insistently, and I pulled the device out of my back pocket
only to scowl. My mom’s name flashed in bold, and Mikayla and I shared a
sour look as I sat down on a bench and dropped my bags. Readying myself
for a screaming match, I held my forehead in my palm and swiped the green
button while my friend started rifling through my stuff.
“What is it, Mom?”
“What do you mean? Where are you? We brought you a cake and
everyone’s here!” Hissing into the phone, my mom’s anger warmed my ear,
but I was so beyond caring at this point. First, it was ‘we thought you could
use some time’ which was just covering up the fact that no one wanted to
leave the restaurant they were planning on eating at for me. Then, it was ‘we
want to get everyone together, so it can’t be just any day’, and that was a
week ago.
“Mom, we agreed that everyone was going to come over at eleven a.m.
It’s almost five p.m. I’m not going to stop what I’m doing because you’re all
late as hell.” My mom gasped, as if she had any right to be offended at her
own tardiness, and I closed my eyes as frustration began to simmer in my
veins. “We planned it for eleven a.m., and no one showed up, so I went on
with my life. You obviously don’t care about making me waste six hours,
though. What were you doing, huh? What was so important that you couldn’t
come to see me at the time you wanted?”
“I beg your pardon! Lucillia! If you weren’t planning on being here and
just inconveniencing everyone, what was the point of any of this?” My brows
nearly flew off my face as a condescending laugh burst from my throat, and
Mikayla glanced over at me warily.
“Did you not hear what I said, Mom? It’s five o’clock in the evening, you
know, at night, and you guys were supposed to come by at eleven in the
morning— six hours ago. You think I’m going to sit around for six hours?
No, I have things I need to catch up on.” I wanted to just explode, and my
hand shook as I clenched it into a tight fist. I wanted to scream at my mom
that I’d been kidnapped and tortured, and why didn’t she care? I wanted to
cry and throw a tantrum because no one had stopped by to check on me
when, considering the lies, they weren’t obligated to.
What kind of family only did things when they were ‘obligated’ to,
anyway?
“I was there. I stayed home, waiting, until one-thirty in the afternoon, and
then I said to myself, I know, you’re not coming. You forgot? Did you forget
me, Mom? Did you think I’d just be okay with you strolling in whenever you
felt like it with no regard for what was happening with me? For what plans I
had afterward?” My mom fell quiet at my tangent, and I ran my hand through
my hair roughly as a scoff built in my throat. “God, Mom, you know what,
just don’t bother with me anymore if I cause so much trouble. I’m not going
to stress out because you think I’m not important enough to be on time!
Goodbye!”
Hanging up on my mom, I glared at my phone, and Mikayla sat back on
the bench to sigh heavily. The silence was bittersweet, and I glanced over at
my best friend as she watched me with heavy questions swirling in her eyes.
She was good to me, not asking, and my throat tightened with the desire to
just blurt everything out.
“When did my mom get so . . . so insufferable? Or was she always this
way, and I just ignored it rather than deal with it?” Before Mikayla could
open her mouth, my phone started to ring again, and I groaned in foreboding.
This time, Seth was calling, and I licked my lips heavily as I answered.
“Hello?”
“Lucy, hey. What are you up to right now?” I could hear my mom
complaining in the background, but I ignored it as I sat up straight to stretch
my legs out.
“I’m spending my jackpot money before my mom can try to weasel it out
of me. Why?” Seth was a good guy, despite his stingy ways, and I flopped
my head back to stare at the high ceiling of the mall. “Did she tell you to call
me and get me to come back?”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to. I texted you earlier, but you didn’t respond,
so I wasn’t sure if I should come by at eleven, like you said. I was wondering
if you wanted to go to dinner, a date.” I almost gagged in disgust, and I shook
my head even though Seth couldn’t see me. “I feel like we should reconnect.”
“Seth, no offense, but I really don’t want to go on a date with you. Today
sucked, and I just . . . I need to be by myself right now.” Mikayla nudged me
with her elbow, and I scrunched up my face in discomfort as she gestured me
on silently. “Listen, I think we should break up, Seth.”
There. I said it. The words left my lips dry, and my tongue stuck to the
roof of my mouth as silence rippled over the line. Seth’s surprise prickled the
fine hairs on my cheek, and I tightened my grip on my phone as I cleared my
throat.
“I’ll give you back the ring, but I’m not going to marry you, and I think
it’s best if we just went our separate ways quietly. You’re a great guy, Seth,
but I’m not in love with you anymore, and I haven’t been for a while. I only
said ‘yes’ when you proposed because everyone was staring at me, but even
at the time, I thought it was a mistake.” The ancient, old-as-dirt lady that’d
been walking by stopped as I slowly, clearly explained myself, and I didn’t
wait for an answer before hanging up. Relief slumped my shoulders, and I
couldn’t stop myself from smiling as I sunk deep into the hard bench. “I feel
so much better. Wow.”
“You did a good job. I know how much effort that took, Lucy.” My smile
widened at Mikayla’s assurance, and I grabbed her hand to squeeze tightly.
Her smirk turned slick, and her eyes brightened as I breathed easy . . . or
easier. “Now, I can talk all the shit I want about him and not have to worry,
right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” That crazy old lady tapped my shoulder, her white
curls reflecting the lights streaming down from above, and I glanced up as
her smile folded into her wrinkles.
“Better now than when you get the government involved.” She patted my
shoulder before hobbling away with her cane and hunched back, and I
couldn’t help but giggle. There seemed to be every reason not to marry, and I
shook my head slightly before reaching down to grab up my bags.
“I’m glad you didn’t agree to go on the date to break up with him. He
would’ve made you pay for half his meal even if you just got free water and
breadsticks.” Mikayla wasn’t short of her opinions, but she’d always been
respectful— except now there was no reason to be. Seth was a good guy, but
he had his quirks, and most of them I couldn’t stand. “Where did you want to
go next?”
“I want to get new bed sheets and stuff.” There were only four bags— I’d
gotten two new pairs of pajamas, some really nice, fuzzy slippers, and a few
pairs of jeans and a couple shirts. I wasn’t going to totally revamp my
wardrobe or anything, but I did need to throw out some of my older clothes.
“We can browse and stuff, too.”
 “Well, obviously. You never know what you want until you see it.”
Giggling lightly at that, Mikayla nudged me with her shoulder, and I stood up
to huff softly. “You know you’re gonna drop a huge chunk of change on your
yard, and don’t even try to deny it.”
“Yeah, I am. I want your opinion on some ideas to make it really cute and
nice.” I wanted to get a little fountain and make a little irrigation system, so I
didn’t have to water my plants anymore. I wanted a little waterfall, and
maybe even some fish. I was going to get rid of the vegetables in my front
yard and make a nice flower garden.
I was going to get new bed sheets so no one else would have touched
them.
I was going to get new cookware that had never been used for anyone
else.
Pausing our trek toward the other end of the mall, where a Macy’s was, I
stared at a faint crack in the grout between the marble tiles on the floor. The
details blurred as my mind slowed, and I frowned as longing beat against the
backs of my eyes.
“Lucy?” Blinking hard, I shook my head furiously, and Mikayla’s eyes
narrowed on me under furrowed brows. “You alright?”
“I’m fine. I was just thinking . . . I might paint my house. Maybe
something a little darker.” My phone rang, but I ignored it even as this
sinking feeling in my stomach got worse and worse as it trilled on. As soon
as it went to voicemail, the call started again, and I snatched the device from
my pocket to put it on silent, and Mikayla smiled at me with pride in her
eyes.
But all I felt was dread.
13

Mateo
Nine Months Later . . .

Sitting on my board on the calm, crystal blue water, I rubbed Ketchup’s head
before I started paddling back to shore. There were no waves to surf right
now, but I could stay out here all day. Even roiling, the ocean was soothing,
peaceful, and even more so when it wasn’t like right now. Nothing but water
stretched behind me, and before me was nothing but beach- and Sriracha,
dutifully guarding my stuff under an umbrella.
He knew to wait his turn, but I was going to wait until there was a swell
before taking him out.
“At least you don’t jump off my board, Ketchup. You good boy.” Patting
his broad back, I chuffed a laugh as I tore my eyes off the white sands, and
Ketchup smiled back at me. These dogs were pretty large, but he was smaller
than Sriracha by an inch or so. “At least you got a bigger heart, huh.”
Only when we were close enough to shore that I could climb off my
board to walk did Ketchup jump into the water to swim. A laugh escaped me,
watching his wide head bob around, and I held my board against my back.
My scars . . . they were fully healed, covered by my wetsuit, but they
never stopped hurting. They burned, sometimes more horribly than other
times, but I never found relief. Even here, in paradise, I couldn’t escape it,
and I arched with an uncomfortable grunt.
“Excuse me!” Swiping my hand up my face, I flopped my head back and
swept back my hair before glancing over. A very nicely dressed woman stood
a good distance away, clearly eyeing Sriracha even as she spoke to me.
“We’re having a wedding. You need to clear the beach.”
My heart throbbed at that, and my cheek twitched as I stuck my board in
the sand. Wandering over to the blonde, her slim body wrapped in forest
green, I ignored the gaping hole that opened up in me. Even after so long . . .
“This is a public beach. If they wanted a private ceremony, they
should’ve rented a section.” She pulled a face, her gray eyes flashing angrily
at my nonchalance, and I waved in dismissal. “Good luck next time around.”
“Hey!” The shout echoed down the beach, and my eyes narrowed on the
woman as she stuck her hands on her hips, as if her attitude was strong
enough. “Can you just move down a little, then? Come on, it’s someone’s
wedding.”
“It’s not mine.” Turning around, the sand squelched between my toes,
and I pulled the zipper of my suit to shirk off the sleeves. A horrified gasp
sounded behind me, but I ignored it as I ground my teeth to the gum. It’s not
my wedding, and it probably never will be. Which was probably a good thing
considering. Reaching to rub my chest, I closed my eyes as Ketchup rubbed
up against the backs of my legs.
I don’t even remember anymore.
“Hey.” Groaning loudly, I just ignored the call as I grabbed my board and
whistled at my dogs. Heading up the beach to the parking lot, my steps were
hard, and I scowled lightly as I protected my back from the sun. Even here,
over two thousand miles away, I couldn’t escape these feelings, and I long
ago forgot why I pushed Lucy away.
“I’m exhausted.” My soul was tired. Every time I thought about her, the
world turned gray, and it’d gotten worse and worse over the past months. I
thought I was doing the right thing for her at the time, but I’d fucked myself
over royally. She deserved normalcy and happiness, and I thought I’d end up
back in New York City under my brother’s thumb.
But that was just an excuse. I was free, and I had the chance to beg her to
stay with me. Why didn’t I get on my knees in front of her? Why didn’t I
man up when my father gave me that envelope, knowing he wouldn’t go back
on his word?
“Let’s go, boys. Hup.” Pulling open the door to my soft-top Jeep, I
gestured my dogs inside as I went to strap my surfboard to the top rack.
Ketchup and Sriracha helped, but it wasn’t enough on days like this. “What a
way to end my birthday surf, right? Hopefully, dinner will go better.”
I didn’t live in Hawaii, but it seemed like a good idea to visit at least once
in my life.
Nothing had changed. Nothing was different. I was drowning in the same
emptiness and sorrow that had me standing on a balcony in New York City,
staring down at the sidewalk. The future looked bleak and apocalyptic.
The next step is not seeing a future at all.
“Let’s go back to the hotel and eat and take a really nice nap, huh? Sound
good?” Sriracha barked deep and low, and I nodded to myself as I twisted to
back out of my spot. They weren’t even full grown, yet, and I had nothing but
pride in my dogs. They were greatly trained, big, and bad, and I could bring
them anywhere because I’d registered them as therapy dogs.
The hotel was just down the road, a smaller place without a big name
attached to it, but very nice and worth the money of a big name. Their
parking lot wasn’t full to the brim, and that’s what mattered to me when I
arrived here. Pulling up to the valet, I jerked the gear and popped open the
door, and my dogs jumped out the back.
I’d been here long enough that the kid that parked my car didn’t jump
anymore at the sight of them, and I skirted by him to head into the hotel. The
lobby was in a tizzy, and I swiped back my hair as my water shoes slapped
against the hardwood.
“What’s going on?” Wandering over to the receptionist desk, I leaned on
my elbow as nicely dressed people headed out in packs of three or four.
“Does it have anything to do with that wedding that tried get me thrown off
the beach?”
“Oh-h, yeah. I’d never, ever have a destination wedding. They all come
here and act like jerks. The bride seems miserable, and her mom just took
over everything.” The receptionist lady leaned in, and I frowned at the
conspiratorial gleam in her eye. “Her dress is ugly, too, and I think she knows
it. They’re about to leave, so if you stick around, you can watch the
mayhem.”
“Ah.” I was tired, but when I glanced over at the elevator, people were
blocking it. There was no way I was going to get my ass up the stairs, either.
“There’s not much point in trying to get upstairs, I guess.”
On the beach, there’d been no signs of a wedding being set up, so I could
only assume that woman didn’t want anyone wandering in out of nowhere. I
hadn’t paid attention on the drive back, and I tapped my cheek absently in
impatience. Standing in half a wet suit, I stood out like a sore thumb and got
more than a few glances. Some people were taking pictures, and I hoped I
ruined them because they ruined my afternoon.
Let’s face it, my life was ruined the day Lucy got in that Lyft and . . .
The elevator pinged shrilly, and the bodies crowded even tighter as the
doors slid open. Just in that moment, that woman from the beach rushed into
the hotel, panting slightly, and I tapped my foot as eagerness crept up my
spine. My back hurt, I was covered in salt, and I hadn’t eaten lunch.
 “Get going already.” Sriracha perked up out of the corner of my eye, and
I glanced down through narrowed pupils as he started sniffing the air. “Hey,
sit. You too, Ketchup, sit.”
A dog came slithering out from between legs in a top-hat and a bow, and
Sriracha almost stood up as he growled lowly. He hated other dogs, got super
territorial and made dog parks barren in seconds, and I reached down to grab
his scruff. Surprise shocked my chest when the brown lab started crawling
over on his belly, head low and eyes big. Ketchup met him, sniffing around
him, biting his top hat, and I almost opened my mouth before a wretched
shriek echoed around the lobby.
“Everyone just get away before I suffocate!” There was so much sorrow
in that hoarse scream, and I looked over as the secretary behind me
harrumphed softly. “God, this can’t be the happiest day of my life if I’m
dead.”
People laughed, but time stopped for me as the thick waves of
unhappiness and stress and mocking, disgusted sarcasm hit me square in the
face. My jaw hit the floor, and Sriracha took advantage of my slack to bull
rush into the crowd. He even knocked someone over, and the bodies parted as
squeaks lifted high into the air.
“Lucy.” Her name was a bare whisper on my tongue, and those haunting,
blue eyes, like the ocean outside, met mine to widen. The blood drained from
my face as disbelief aired my skull, and my heart squeezed to the point that
it’d explode. Clutching my chest as flames engulfed my lungs, I wheezed
painfully, and my pupils blew to zoom out of her face.
The white dress Lucy wore was more fitting for a church wedding than a
beach wedding, and it did not flatter her at all. She was even wearing heels,
and everyone knew that was a horrible idea in the sand. Her hair had been
pinned up in a way that didn’t fit her face, and her makeup was something
that should be painted on someone else with a thinner jaw and cheeks.
“What the fuck?” Who in the fuck picked out that dress? Who directed
her hair and makeup? Who in their right mind put her in heels? “What the
fuck!”
I couldn’t hear my own voice even as it boomed across the lobby, and I
breathed fire as rage seared my veins. Storming over to her as Sriracha sat at
her feet, a verifiable apoplexy blanketed my mind, and I shoved a faceless
person out of the way that tried to get in my way.
“What the fuck? What the fuck?“ I couldn’t bear it, to see Lucy like this,
and I grabbed her ugly-ass, puffy sleeves in trembling, white-knuckle fists to
tear them down her arms. The sound rattled my teeth, but my eyes never left
hers as tears spilled down her cheeks. Her lips turned white as everyone
around us stared in shocked silence, and I yanked up the admittedly pretty
lace that decorated the outside of the dress. But the rest was all tulle and mesh
to give the skirt body, and it had to fucking go.
All the while, I grumbled my disbelief as my hands grabbed and ripped
and tore with just enough mind to keep something covering Lucy. In that
dress, no one could see her curves— she looked like she was a box, or a
bunch of pool noodles taped together because of the bodice. So, I ripped that
off, too.
Now, at least, Lucy looked better- granted, she looked like she’d been
shipwrecked and washed ashore and all mangled, but . . .
“Better.” She’s having a fucking beach wedding, for Christ’s sake! This
was perfectly acceptable! Cupping her cheeks to gingerly wipe away her
tears, her makeup went with it because whoever did it didn’t use resistant
stuff. Which was amateurish at best. “Much better.”
14

Lucy
“You didn’t break up with Seth.” Mateo’s hoarse whisper caressed my ears
so beautifully, and my eyelids fluttered closed to savor the sound that haunted
my dreams. “Ah, don’t cry. Your makeup is cheap and can’t handle it.”
My mouth opened but nothing came out, and I could only turn my face
into Mateo’s touch to soak up his warmth. Deep silence stretched around me,
but that only made our moment better as I reached to cover his palms with
mine. The smell of the ocean and his breath wafted up my nose, and I sniffled
hard when it threatened to clog.
“Oh, my God! You just ruined a thirteen thousand-dollar dress!” The
quiet, peaceful few seconds shattered as my would-be stepmom’s horrified
shriek, and I tensed as the world around me devolved into chaos. It all
swirled around me, like I was in the eye of a hurricane, and I was calm and
safe, and Mateo held me against his chest with a hand in my hair and his arm
around my waist.
“It was an ugly ass dress, and she was ugly in it.” Seth’s mother raged,
and I cracked open my eyes to watch her try to rush at Mateo only to be
halted in her tracks by a thunderous, vicious snarl. The pure black pit at my
feet stood up and bristled, and suddenly, everyone took a few steps back.
Meredith was red, panting, nostrils flared and lips twisting ugly, and my mom
seemed to catch her fury at Mateo’s nonchalant reply. “Plus, if it cost thirteen
thousand dollars, someone ripped you off. That wasn’t even good material.”
Mateo was warm, tanned, he had a little bit more muscle and was a little
bit more solid. His heartbeat furiously against my cheek, and I wanted to melt
as all the pent-up emotions over the past nine months just disappeared, as if
they’d never been. Clearly, Mateo’s utter disregard for what he’d just done
was as maddening as it was stupefying, and an awkward, tense silence settled
on my shoulders.
“You got a dog.” He grumbled deep in his chest in affirmation, and I
closed my eyes as it sung to my soul. “Mateo . . . ”
“Do you want a play-by-play of how fucking miserable I’ve been without
you, Lucy?” That question surprised me enough that I pulled back, and
Mateo had tears in his eyes as he caressed my face gently. “I am so, so
sorry.”
“No, no, no, no. It’s okay. It’s alright. Hey . . . ” My chest threatened to
concave under the pressure of his cracking apology, and I shook my head as
he took a shuddering, weak breath. “Oh, I don’t blame you, Mateo.”
“Excuse me! What is going on here!” My mom’s scream was so shrill and
angry, and I winced as I tore my eyes off Mateo. My friends and immediate
family, some who’d even invited themselves without my knowledge, and
Seth’s family and friends were all quiet. Over the past nine months, I went
along with this wedding because everyone, with a few exceptions, demanded
it. Seth and I had spent too much time together to give up, love was slow and
built up over time, yada-yada-yada.
I told Seth I was going to get an annulment if he refused to back down,
but I had a feeling he suspected just as I knew that I probably wouldn’t. I
didn’t like being yelled at, and that’s all my mom seemed to do as she
planned my wedding. I hadn’t slept with Seth, hadn’t really seen Seth,
because I was too busy with my backyard and wallowing in my misery. Not
to mention, Seth had told his best friend he was going to marry me because
his mom told him to, and his best friend told my best friend . . . and here we
were.
“Uh, obviously not the wedding you all came here for.” Mateo spoke
calmly, assuredly, and he tightened his grip on my waist as he turned to my
mom with a steely gaze.
“I’m not surprised a loose whore like you doesn’t know a good man when
she has one!” Meredith’s teeth were fangs as she spoke viciously, and I
tensed when she, in her mid-life-crisis dress, spit in my face. Horrified gasps
sounded, and I trembled when Mateo let me go to punch her right in the eye.
She fell back with a cry, and I wiped my cheek as I blink back the disbelief
and the sting building in my eyes.
“Shit, you have a thick fucking skull, lady.” Wagging his hand as he
spoke, Mateo drew my bleary gaze to him, and the scars on his back rippled
furiously. The risen lines were faint pink, some were white, and my hands
ached to touch them as tension zinged through my shoulders. “Jesus Christ.”
My throat tightened, and I covered my chest with my forearms to wrap
my hands around my neck. Nothing eased the strain, and Mateo rolled his
shoulders and arched to hold himself tall and imposing.
His dog still sat at my feet, making sure everyone knew he was there as
he bristled and growled, and no one else made a move against Mateo.
Meredith shuffled to her feet, clutching her face, and I refused to meet her
gaze as I trained mine on the floor. My dress wasn’t totally destroyed— the
long, swaying, delicate lace had been spared, so it looked like a white
sundress, almost. At least I can walk regular strides, not heel to toe.
“Come on, Lucy.” Grabbing my hand, Mateo jabbed the elevator button
with his thumb before lifting his fingers to his lips and letting out a loud,
shrill whistle. The all black dog stood up and wagged his tail stump, a huge,
pittie smile stretching his lips, and another gray-black dog came barreling
through the crowd. The smaller of the two had Marshal’s top-hat on his nose,
holding his mouth shut, and I blubbered a laugh as I reached to grab it.
I didn’t want to make too loud a noise, though, and shatter this beautiful,
wonderful dream, to return to the nightmare that was my life. Then again, it
was my fault. I could’ve stood up for myself, but I never did. I didn’t want
drama, so I settled on desolation.
“Marshal, come on, boy.” The elevator doors slid open behind me, and
Marshal trotted his way over, his tail wagging even though he held his head
low. When we were alone, crowded in the elevator, I let go of Mateo’s hand
to rub my eyes, and a heavy, exhausted sigh burst from my dry mouth. “Did
that just happen?”
“That was exactly how I fantasized it would happen.” He smiled at me,
and I smiled at him, and for a brief second, everything was perfect. “You said
you were going to break up with him. What the hell happened?”
“My mom just yells and comments and grinds me down. When I broke up
with Seth nine months ago, he was cool with it. I even gave him the ring back
for a while. But his mom found out, and he’s truly a mommy’s boy, and my
mom was making my life horrible. It lasted two weeks before we just gave
up, and then my mom planned the wedding, and his mom picked out this
dress without me even there. We were going to take pictures. I need to tell
Seth there’s not gonna be a wedding.” Mateo’s smile widened and flames
licked up my neck as we traveled up to the third floor of the modest hotel. “I
missed you, Mateo. It took me a while to understand, to really understand,
but . . . I missed you.”
“I was considering killing myself again. Even with the dogs, it wasn’t
getting better.” My smile strained, and I rested my head on his shoulder as he
wrapped his arm tightly around my waist. It was like no time at all had
passed, and I nuzzled his bare skin, taut and hard and toned against my cheek.
“Is that your best friend, the one in the green dress?”
“Mikayla, yeah. Why?” The elevator clamored to a stop and I turned to
Mateo as he frowned.
“She recognized me. What did you tell her about how we met?” Rolling
my lips between my teeth, embarrassment sloshed against my ribs, and Mateo
arched a brow quizzically. “I’m not upset or anything, but she recognized my
back.”
Stepping off the elevator, I ducked my head in a nod, and Mateo pressed
his palm against the small of my back. We were on the same floor,
apparently, but I hadn’t seen him in the two days I’d been here. Now that I
thought about it, I had heard his dogs bark every once and a while.
“Lucy, what happened to your dress?” Seth’s best friend, Roger, raced up
the hallway, and he scanned me through narrowed eyes. “Not that it doesn’t
look better, I think, but what happened downstairs? Meredith’s texting us you
got assaulted—”
“I wasn’t assaulted. Roger is Seth’s best friend. Roger, this is Mateo.”
They barely looked at each other, and I inhaled an easy, full breath as I licked
my lips in preparation. “You can tell Seth he’s off the hook, okay? I’m not
marrying him.”
“Oh, thank God. He’s been drinking since he woke up. I was gonna come
tell you it was off before I got all the texts from his mom.” Roger touched my
arm in either gratefulness or relief, and he rocked back to stuff his hands in
his pockets. “Shit, girl, at least we’re in Hawaii, right? I swear, his mom
purposefully made you ugly. How fucked up. I told Seth he needs to man up
and stick it to Meredith. I’ve been telling him that for almost ten years.
Hopefully, he’ll realize she’s gonna control his life forever.”
“Okay. Mateo punched Meredith in the face when she spit on me, but
she’ll probably fudge the story, so I wanted you to hear it from me first. Also
. . . ” Trailing off as Roger tensed, his eyes boggled with anger, I pursed my
lips thinly before continuing. “Tell Seth I didn’t cheat on him . . . not
physically, at least.”
15

Mateo
“You’ve been having nightmares, and that’s how she found out.” Holding
Lucy’s hands as we sat across from each other on the floor, I frowned at the
guilty, sheepish expression that drowned her delicate, clean features. “Okay.
It’s not like you signed an NDA, and even if you did, it probably wouldn’t
cover sleep talking.”
“So, when did you get your dogs? Why’d you name them Sriracha and
Ketchup?” Changing the subject none-too-subtly, Lucy glanced over at the
dogs lounging on the sofa. “Ketchup and Marshal like each other, at least.”
“Sriracha doesn’t even like Ketchup most of the time, so I named them
that because I couldn’t think of anything else at the time. I flew to Reno to
meet a guy who breeds pit bulls, and then I drove to California and hung out
there for about six months while I trained them and all that. Ketchup’s a great
cuddler, and Sriracha will attack on command. It’s honestly pretty nice.”
Rubbing the backs of her smooth hands with my thumbs, I tilted my head at
her suggestively. “What about you? How’s your garden?”
“Uh, it’s more an oasis now than a garden, I guess. I redid my front yard
completely, and I put an oasis in my backyard. I even got some fish. My
garden takes up three-quarters of my backyard now, not my whole backyard.”
That spark lit in her eye, and Lucy leaned in as her smile puffed out her
cheeks. “There’s a hammock, too.”
“Yeah?” Untangling our fingers, I reached to run them through her hair,
the strands sticky and stuff with hair spray. Lucy’s smile dulled, and she
tilted her head into my palms and scooted a little closer. She reeked of hair
spray and perfume, and I had only just noticed it. The silence stretched into
peace, just beautiful, lasting, relieving peace, and the air sparkled with flakes
of dried hairspray to sparkle ethereally.
“You always hear horror stories of people whose weddings get hijacked
by their parents, but I don’t know what happened. I just gave up rather than
listen to it. Seth’s mom insisted on paying for everything, but then she would
say all the time that she had a say because she was paying for it. And my
mom would just make decisions without me even knowing, and then tell me
about it, and that it’d already been decided, so fighting was just useless. I
didn’t even know that this was a destination wedding until about three weeks
ago when my mom mentioned it in passing and then told me I’d been the one
to bring it up. I swear, she was gaslighting me.” Lucy’s voice tainted with
self-depreciation, and I scratched her scalp soothingly as she ducked her
head. “No one knows about the money, at least. I haven’t worked since I got
back, and everyone thinks Micky is supporting me. She kinda moved in with
me, and a couple weeks turned into nine months.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t have a mom, so you don’t have to
worry, Lucy. Let me wash your hair- come on.” Pushing myself to my feet, I
held out my hands for her, and Lucy tinged pink as she stood. The room I’d
rented was three rooms, a sitting area, a bathroom, and a bedroom, and it was
a good price for the comfort.
“How did you know about the dress? That it was cheap? And my
makeup?” Flicking on the bathroom light, I tensed when soft, smooth fingers
crept up my back, and Lucy pressed her forehead against me to sniffle. My
skin twitched and tightened against her palms, and I clenched my jaw as the
second’s ticked by. Slowly kicking off my wet suit, I hiked up my boxers
before turning to her, and the choking stench of hairspray coated my tongue
and throat.
I didn’t open my mouth, mostly because I didn’t want to break this
moment, and Lucy’s big, blue eyes glazed over as I reached to pull down
what was left of her dress. There was nothing holding it together, so it just
flailed to pool around her feet, and I cupped her cheeks with both my palms
to rub under her eyes.
“I know good fabric when I feel it. I used to care about that kind of thing.
And the makeup . . . any makeup cheapens you, Lucy.” She blushed furiously
under the streams where her makeup had washed away, and my heart
squeezed painfully. “Let’s get this crap out of your hair.”
The bathtub had a shower head attached to it, which was convenient, and
I helped Lucy inside before turning on the faucet. Hyper-focused on her face,
I didn’t see any part of her below her collar bone- she was so damn beautiful
that it took my breath away. After months and months of a downward spiral,
I finally had her so close, and I wasn’t going to let any details slip away.
“Our moms are the ones who wanted this wedding. Everyone else came
to party, and it’s not exactly a secret . . . the situation.” Her murmur was a
caress on my brain, and Lucy leaned back as I grabbed the shower head with
my free hand. “I know why you pushed me away. Mateo . . . ”
My lips thinned as sourness stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth,
and I worked to drench Lucy’s hair, but even then, it was so damn sticky and
stiff that it barely moved. The ugly, disproportioned rock on her finger
glinted, taunting me, but I couldn’t exactly take it off with my hands full. She
was quiet, everything was quiet, and I softly started to hum one of my
favorite songs as I worked her scalp.
Getting all that gunk out of Lucy’s hair was a mammoth task, but this was
more than that. She basked in my touch, and my humming grew louder until
it turned into a mumble. My shampoo was scentless, thankfully, and I soaped
up her hair as she held herself on her elbows. If it was uncomfortable, Lucy’s
face didn’t hint at it, and she tilted her head back as I kneaded her scalp
gingerly.
“You have a beautiful voice, Mateo.” Slurring heavily as I rinsed her hair,
Lucy cracked open her eyes to stare at me upside down. “Keep singing. I like
it.”
“Okay.” Well, I couldn’t argue with that logic, and I cleared my throat
lightly while I squirted conditioner into my palm. The shower head was held
up by one of those stalks that stayed in place, which I was really grateful for
in this moment. I needed a shower to wash the ocean off me, but Lucy was
more important.
Lucy was the most important.
“Do you like Spanish pop?” Nodding slightly, Lucy closed her eyes
again, and I elbowed away the shower head to massage conditioner into her
long, golden strands. “Do you know Spanish as a language?”
“Not really. Do you?” Humming an affirmative, I started tugging and
twirling her hair around my fingers, and she groaned softly. “That feels
good.”
“Good.” There was nothing— nothing to say, to think, to feel. There was
just this wholeness. That gaping hole inside me had been filled. The
emptiness of the past few months were forgotten. The loneliness, it never
crept up on me late at night. “I knew I shouldn’t have pushed you away, but
what if it was a fluke? What if we only cared about each other because we
were locked in a room for a week, and I had to protect you, and you had to
watch me get tortured? But it only got worse, Lucy. I got so bad. I told
myself if I ever saw you again under a normal circumstance, I wouldn’t make
the same mistake twice. You know, I came here because I thought I should
once in my life. That’s kinda the direction my life has been going, just doing
all the standard stuff, and when there was nothing left.”
“Mateo.” I ran my fingers through Lucy’s blonde hair, dark from the
water, and the smoothness and ease sent shocks up my arm. My chest
throbbed, and I inhaled sharply to bluster a shaky, unstable sigh.
“I knew when it was happening that it was a mistake, but I had to know
for sure that it wasn’t the circumstances that drew us together. Seeing you
downstairs, I was so fucking mad. There was no way that wasn’t deliberate.
Who the fuck makes someone look like that on their wedding day? And
everyone laughed at you when it was so obvious how upset you were. And
that bitch!” Hissing through clenched teeth as my anger swamped my veins
with renewed heat, I breathed fire through my nose. “That bitch spit on you.
I’d fucking kill her if I could still get away with it.”
“That was pretty bad, even for her, yeah. But you know what, Mateo? She
paid for this trip, so . . . Seth and I didn’t plan a honeymoon, even though my
mom tried. He has classes and court, so he convinced her to let it go.” Lucy
smiled slightly, a true humor tilting her thick lips, and blood drummed in my
ears for a few furious beats of my heart. “You punched her real good, though.
That was really sweet.”
“You’re really sweet.” I downright grinned when Lucy huffed a laugh,
and I turned off the water to gingerly ring out her elbow-length locks. “I need
to wash off my time surfing, but my suitcase is under the bed. You can put
something on.”
“I’m in just my panties, and you don’t even care?” Surprise lilted her tone
as I stood up, and Lucy sat straight as I gazed down at her. Even now, with
her nakedness pointed out, all I saw was her face as it washed in confusion.
“Why would I put clothes on?”
“Lucy, please. There’s absolutely zero chance of me getting it up right
now. I do care— I’m just too tired to do anything about it. Besides . . . ” Her
eyes widened, and I reached to cup her chin and brush away a stray droplet of
water. “Just looking at your face is enough for me right now.”
16

Lucy
Gazing at Mateo’s peaceful expression, I smoothed the crease between his
brows with my thumb, but he was out cold. A bomb could go off, and he
wouldn’t wake up; when he said he was tired, he meant spiritually, in his
soul, he was tired. Caressing the sharp line of his jaw, I ruffled his light scuff,
and all the chaos beyond this hotel room didn’t exist.
Every so often, there was some yelling and some stomping, but no one
knew I was in here because, obviously, this was Mateo’s room. I traced the
lines of his face, down his nose and around his eyes, with trembling fingers,
and I took deep breaths of his smell to imbed it in my lungs. His t-shirt was
so soft on my skin, and the thick hairs on his legs tickled mine.
It was so nice . . . so peaceful.
I understood. Mateo didn’t have to explain, but I understood how he
could think what he did and why he chose to do what he had. Now,
everything was so crystal clear. I was so glad I’d come to Hawaii, because we
wouldn’t ever have just bumped into each other in Tennessee. It was a pipe
dream that got flushed down the toilet before I’d even brought it up at the
hospital. He would’ve never set foot in Tennessee, let alone Jackson, let
alone showed up on my doorstep.
Tiredness weighed down my lids, but I couldn’t stop looking at him. I
couldn’t stop hearing his beautiful baritone in my ears, and I couldn’t stop
touching him. Mateo didn’t move despite his deep, stable breaths, and I
traced his slightly parted lips. Now, I realized how much it hurt him . . . how
hard he was trying to fake it. He was lying when he said he thought it was
best I went back to Tennessee by myself and forgot about him.
Even then, we both knew I couldn’t forget, and obviously he hadn’t
either. How awful it must’ve been for Mateo that he considered killing
himself. He had his dogs, but they couldn’t fill the void in him. If I wasn’t so
filled with loathing for my mom, Seth’s mom, my situation in general, I
probably wouldn’t have lasted so long, either.
“Oh . . . ” Sitting up so gingerly, I sniffed back the tears that clogged my
nose and throat, and I rubbed my eyes as they stung fiercely. I slid off the bed
to shuffle into the living area, and Marshal lifted his head from the sofa.
Ketchup sprawled on top of him, snoring lightly, and I wrapped my arms
around myself as a small smile tilted my lips. The all black mass on the
loveseat guffawed lightly, stretching his legs and paws before pulling them
back in. Would this peace last?
The thought dried my mouth, and my tongue stuck to the roof as I made
my way to the telephone on the end table by the sofa. Marshal tried to wiggle
out from under Ketchup, but the gray-black pile of muscle just grumbled
rolled onto his back. Patting Marshal’s head and scratching behind his ears, I
walked to the door to peek out, but I had to step out into the hallway to see
the room number.
“Lucy.” My heart jumped in my throat, and I whipped around as Mikayla
came rushing down the hallway. Holding a hand to my chest, I heaved a sigh
of relief, and she paused when she saw what I was wearing before shaking
her head. Still in her dress for the ceremony, she practically shoved me back
in the room and closed the door to sag dramatically against it. “We gotta
hide! They’re everywhere! They’re nowhere! Oh, the horror!”
“What? Who?” She peeked through the peep hole, and I scrunched up my
face when I realized I hadn’t gotten the door number. “Did you see what
room number this is? I’m starving.”
“What do you mean ‘who’? Those nasty old hags are telling everyone
you got the jitters and shacked up with some random surfer douchebag!
They’re holding the officiant in a cage made of bones while they look for
you, and someone called the cops because they sacrificed their wretched
souls to summon a demon Pitbull from Hell!” You’re having way too much
fun with this, Mickey. Arching a brow when she turned to me, I crossed my
arms over my chest, and Mikayla frowned as her shoulders slumped a little.
“Okay, but, seriously, the officiant is waiting downstairs because your mom
and Seth’s mom convinced her that you just got cold feet, and you’ll be ready
soon. Seth’s not even here! Him and his buddies all left. He told me to tell
you he’s sorry and he hopes you two can be friends, by the way.”
“Did you tell the justice that I’m most definitely not getting married
today, and that she’s free to leave and enjoy her free hour and a half?” This
was turning into more a hassle than I expected. I mean, chaos was a given in
this circumstance, but if Seth wasn’t here . . .
“I couldn’t get close. She’s being guarded by a fire-breathing dragon. I
tried to sneak up behind them, but she almost got me with her claws.”
Mikayla shivered in faux disgust and fear, and I couldn’t help but giggle a
little as she flipped her hair back. “Anyway, the receptionist lady had a video
on her phone of Meredith spitting on you, and you gotta know she shut up
real fast after the cops saw that. Most of the guests are already gone doing
whatever. I mean, this is still a vacation for them. Also, yes, I did. This is
room 3B.”
“Oh, thanks. I’d go out, but Mateo’s sleeping, and I don’t have a room
key.” Surprise rose her perfectly sculpted brows, and I wandered back to the
archway to the bedroom to grab the phone on the nightstand. Mateo was out,
but I still creeped around so I didn’t accidentally wake him up on my way
back to the sofa. “We gotta keep it down, okay?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” The dogs took up almost the whole couch, and Marshal
finally made a concerted effort to get out from under Ketchup. The pit woke
up with a noticeably annoyed expression before noticing there was someone
else in the room for him to befriend, and I dropped into the overstuffed
recliner as Mikayla squeezed onto the sofa. “I’m not judging, but, like, why
aren’t you two, you know, banging?”
“That’s not really the important thing right now.” Mickey shrugged
carelessly, and she gave a little oof when Ketchup flopped his muscular,
broad body into her lap. Marshal climbed into the recliner to sit on my lap,
and my stomach gurgled greedily as I tried to think of what I wanted to eat.
“I’m thinkin’ pizza . . . a lot of pizza.”
“I guess you’re not going to the reception? Just stick it to that crusty bitch
since she paid for it all just to lord over you. You don’t even like salmon. It’s
so stupid.” I couldn’t really argue with that since it was true— Meredith had
planned the meals, and I never even bothered to tell her I hated salmon.
Dialing the number to the kitchen, I held the phone to my ear as I stroked
Marshal from head to hip, and he dropped his head on me to sigh heavily. “I
guess it makes sense— Mateo was surfing with this dog, and that scary one
was guarding his stuff. Why are you awake, though?”
I didn’t answer when the call picked up, and I placed my order before
specifying that I’d cover it and give the guy my name. Two medium pizzas
might’ve been enough, one extra cheese and one pepperoni and sausage, but I
hadn’t eaten in two days. I ordered some soda, too, just for something to
drink, and the guy spouted out the cost and the time before we hung up.
This hotel got their food from the two restaurants on the left face of the
building, just a sidewalk away. One was a straight up pizza joint, and the
other was more ‘everything’ kinda place that had an outside lounge and a
band in the evenings. For a moment, I stared at my bare feet, and I almost
forgot Mikayla was there until she cleared her throat gently.
“Oh, um, I just can’t take a nap, I guess. I don’t want to wake up and . . . I
don’t want this to be a dream.” Gulping down the dense lump that formed in
my throat at the confession, I laid my head back to stare at my best friend,
and she patted Ketchup’s head absently. “I don’t really know. I hoped and
hoped, but I don’t think I ever thought past this point.”
“I wish some half-naked, dripping wet dude would tear my clothes off
and then whisk me away.” Smiling faintly, I didn’t deny it was as close to
perfect as it’d get. Even if Meredith did sue me, she’d signed everything, so
there was no getting out of the fact that she willing paid for everything even
knowing Seth and I didn’t want to get married to each other. “So, what are
we gonna do now? There’s no way I can get away with going downstairs and
telling the officiant the wedding’s off.”
“I’ll do it.” Twisting at the raspy, deep declaration, I frowned as Mateo
sauntered heavily into the living area, and he yawned hard as he rubbed his
head. “I heard you say ‘pizza’.”
“Did I wake you up? Sorry.” He stretched his arms above his head,
muscles shifting under taut, tanned skin, before dropping his palm on my
head, and guilt clawed at my throat. “Were we talking too loud?”
“No, I heard you say ‘pizza’ and I didn’t eat lunch.” My lips quirked up
even as Mateo frowned, and warmth suffused every single cell in my body. I
may not have had a strong conviction against my family and peer pressure,
but Mateo made up for that in spades. He would back me up in anything as
long as I made a concerted effort. Nothing was more important for me to
fight for than him.
17

Mateo
When the elevator doors slid open, there were several cops waiting for us,
talking to that dusty bitch in her too-tight, frumpy dress, and I reached to
scratch my scruff roughly. As glad as I was that Lucy had magically appeared
back in my life, I was kinda pissed at these antics. Casting her friend a
questioning glare only to receive a confused shrug, I scowled lightly, and I
hiked up my jeans as we shuffled off the elevator.
“Who got kidnapped?” Lucy gasped at my loud question, and I would’ve
smiled if that woman didn’t jump up, pointing a manicured finger at me in
rage. The last hour or so had been exhausting. I wanted to eat and sleep and
wake up to her without worrying about what drama lay beyond the hotel
room door. Pointing to myself, I pulled a face, not being able to help myself.
“Me? I’m right here. I’m pretty sure I didn’t kidnap myself.”
“That’s him! He’s the one who punched me and forced Lucy onto the
elevator! Arrest him!” I rolled my eyes with a scoff, and Meredith turned to
the two officers to start blabbing. Holding Lucy’s arm to keep her quiet,
letting this bitch dig her own hole, I shook my head slightly when big blue
eyes flickered to me. “He tore off her wedding dress right here in the lobby
and forced her onto the elevator, and he’s been doing God knows what for the
past forty-five minutes! I spent a lot of money on this wedding, and some
punk isn’t going to ruin it! I want him arrested for assault!”
“Ma’am, you admitted to and were caught on video spitting in her face,
which is why he punched you. Do you want us to arrest you for assault?”
Meredith didn’t even have a black eye— proof of her thick-ass skull— and
she bristled as the older of the two cops hooked his thumbs in his belt to
glower at her. “In case you didn’t know, that happened after he tore apart her
dress, which she seemed fine with. She also willingly went into the elevator,
and everything seemed more than consensual in the video. Are you saying the
video was lying? Is there another angle that can prove your claims?”
“She’s under coercion! She’s supposed to marry my son!” Obviously, this
wasn’t this cop’s first round with angry in-laws and botched attempts to
marry, and he frowned darkly. “I won’t have this day ruined for me, damnit!”
 “Listen, lady, the last officer here spoke to a few people outside, and they
all said the same thing— your son was getting married because you pressured
him. He’s not even here anymore, so I don’t know what you think is going to
happen. Not only that, but this ain’t your wedding— it ain’t anybody’s
wedding anymore. If you want to get married at your age, go for it, but don’t
ruin your kid’s life because you’re not satisfied with your own.” Meredith
gasped in shock, and I clamped a hand on my mouth to stop myself from
cackling. “This is the second time you’ve called the police for nothing in less
than half an hour. If you do it again, I’m arresting you for harassment and
misuse of an emergency service. If I get any calls mentioning your name, I’m
going to arrest you. If this hotel gets a noise complaint about you, I’m going
to arrest you. Is that clear?”
“What! You’re supposed to arrest him!” Meredith pointed at me, and the
cop glanced between Lucy and me through shrewd eyes. “Besides, his dog
attacked us! I want animal control here and that beast put down!”
“You mean that dog who sat on her feet and didn’t do anything
discernably aggressive at all in the entire six-minute surveillance video we
watched twice? Or the secretary’s phone video that proved he had control of
the dog until Lucy yelled in what was clearly a distressed voice? Even when
you were the one that got aggressive, the dog didn’t do anything anyone with
eyes would consider ‘attacking’. If you ask me, it’s the opposite way ‘round
— that dog was protecting her because you’re obviously nuts.” Today was
just not Meredith’s day, and I came all way the down to the lobby for
nothing, which was disappointing. She shrieked in frustration, whipping
around to storm toward us, and Lucy tensed against my side.
“I’m going to sue you for everything! Everything!”
“Go ahead.” Pride bubbled up in my chest at how stern and strong Lucy’s
voice was, and Meredith was positively taken aback. Sputtering a little, she
stepped back, and I let go of Lucy’s forearm to rub her back reassuringly.
“You signed everything. Go ahead and try to tell a judge that every single
arraignment from the flowers to the venue to the debit card you used to book
tickets I didn’t know about was a fluke. You’ll sound even more stupid than
you do now. You insisted on paying for everything, so you’d have a say, and
now you’re out, what, almost forty grand? It’ll cost half that to take me to
court because you’re going to drag it out trying to get something you can’t.”
“You bitch! How could you throw away seven years with a good man!
Seth is a good man, and you ruined the best years of his life!” I didn’t know
Seth at all, but he didn’t seem that bad. At the very least, I wanted to
introduce myself to him. His mom was certifiably nuts, though, irrationally
supped up on self-importance, and Meredith looked about ready to pop a vein
in her forehead. “He loved you, and you go and break his heart because
you’re a selfish whore who can’t keep your legs closed! Everyone knows you
cheated on him nine months ago, and you probably did it more than once, but
Seth stuck with you anyway.”
“In that week, I found a better man than Seth will ever be for me.” No
matter what she said about him, Lucy never explicitly called Seth an asshole
of a person. He was just wrong for her. They just weren’t compatible.
Meredith shook with the force of her rage at Lucy’s almost gentle
declaration. “He is a good man, but he’s not good for me. The only reason we
got back together is because you and my mom were making us miserable. We
were together because it was easier than dealing with our mothers. The
problem wasn’t us, Meredith— it was you.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I grabbed Meredith’s
hand when she raised it to try to smack Lucy. Behind her, the younger cop
sprang into action, and I sidestepped between the two women as Meredith
screeched like a banshee. Crumpling to the floor, she cradled her wrist and
screamed that it was broken, but the policeman behind her clearly didn’t
believe her as he grabbed her arms and held them back. The clink of cuffs
was overly loud in my ears, and Meredith instantly switched to panic mode
despite her broken wrist.
“Here.” Hoisted onto her low heels, Meredith panted furiously, and Lucy
took off her engagement ring to give it to the older officer. “She picked it out.
She should have it.”
“We’re not done talking! I wasn’t going to do anything! She instigated
me! I’m on the Jackson school board, damnit!” My brows rose, and I couldn’t
hold back my laughter as she struggled against being led away. The lobby
suddenly became still, but her shouts seeped through the glass doors before
she got her ass shoved in a cruiser.
“So, that happened.” Lucy rocked back against my palm, and I wrapped
my arm around her as she glanced around the lobby. “Where is my mom,
anyway?”
“Actually, the last time I saw her was when Meredith spit at you. I don’t
know where she went.” Mikayla’s voice was laced with humor but muted,
and she shrugged carelessly while Lucy raked her hand through her luscious,
blonde hair. “Everyone scattered. I think they all had backup plans, so they’re
doing that.”
“I hope you have a backup plan. I’m gonna eat to make up for the past
two days and then sleep to make up for the past nine months.” It seemed like
everything rose and fell so quickly, too quickly, and I glanced over at the
officiant still sitting on the sofa. She had her head buried in her phone, but I
guess she saw drama all the time, and this was nothing new. Reaching to
punch the elevator button, I only shook my head slightly at the fact that
Meredith got herself arrested.
“I do. I’m actually gonna meet up with Roger and Seth. We’re all going
to a karaoke bar. I’d invite you, but you just said you have plans.” Puffing out
her lips, Mikayla shrugged again, and she stepped out of the way to give a
mock salute when the elevator doors slid open. “Relax. Have fun. I’m gonna
go get drunk.”
“You, too, Mickey.” Gesturing Lucy into the metal box first, I nodded
politely when she waved at me, but as soon as the doors shut again, I pulled
my fist to my teeth to stifle my yawn. Lucy rubbed my bare chest, leaning her
head on my shoulder, and I shook my head a little harder to clear the fog that
muddled my thoughts. “I hope I never see Meredith ever again.”
“She really said she was on the school board.” I didn’t bother to hide my
chuckle, and I squeezed Lucy to my side to sigh in pure bliss.
18

Mateo
Cuddling against my side, Lucy twirled my chest hairs around her finger, and
I grumbled lowly as I breathed in her smell. I’d felt her wake up with a start,
like she was worried this wasn’t real; to be honest, I felt the same way. This
was just far too perfect to be true. Stretching my legs, I flexed my feet and
toes before rolling over to wrap her up against my chest, and all of my senses
tingled wildly.
“You know, I’m an only child. I think my mom just thought I wasn’t
going to get any better than Seth. I think . . . I thought I probably wouldn’t,
either.” Her hoarse confession wrapped around my heart and squeezed, and I
cracked my eyes open to lean back. Lucy’s baby blues focused on my chest
under furrowed brows, and she frowned slightly as goosebumps followed her
fingertips. “I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t unhappy, either.”
“I had a sister, Sonja. She killed herself when I was ten.” It wasn’t like
Sonja was a touchy subject, but shame thickened my tone and soured my
tongue, and Lucy’s breath hitched softly. “I spent every moment after that
using money to make up for how miserable I was, and it worked for the most
part. I mean, I had the means, so why shouldn’t I? After what Carlyle put me
through, everything changed. In an instant. Not because I killed her, but
because I realized that was my life— being ordered and stepped on and
despised for not being invested in the business.”
“But you’re different now. You’re gentle and warm.” Humming softly, I
reached to stroke her cheek, and Lucy covered my palm with hers as her eyes
flickered up to mine. “You’re a wonderful man, Mateo.”
“When those grease monkeys threw you in that room, I thought, ‘you
didn’t deserve this’. I’d grown up in an environment where being kidnapped
was a reality I had to face, but you were just snatched on your way home
from working at a damn supermarket. How do you get more innocent than
that? But the last time I talked to my dad at the hospital, he said something
that took me a while to understand.” Trailing off, I licked my lips heavily as
my mouth dried from my confession, and Lucy watched me with big,
glistening eyes. “I don’t deserve it, either.”
 “Oh, Mateo.” Her sharp, sad smile closed my throat, and Lucy wrapped
her arms around me to hold my head against her chest. Slithering around her
waist, I hugged her tightly, and my heart thundered against the bars of its
cage. Stroking my hair, she kissed my crown, and I closed my eyes to focus
on the soft feel of her body against mine. “Have you talked to your family
since then?”
“No.” Mine was a lonely, sad existence, pining for her because I couldn’t
go back. I couldn’t call my dad or Oran, and I really didn’t want to for fear of
being dragged back in. Lucy made a distressed noise, and she threaded her
long, nimble fingers through my hair as we sat in a comforting silence.
But everything would be better now. The one person I knew outside of
the Syndicate was here, single, and willing. Despite knowing what she knew,
Lucy wanted me with the same ferociousness that burned in my chest, a
constant flame that never flickered out.
“I’m your family now.” My throat closed completely, my heart
sputtering, and I lifted my head as Lucy pursed her lips in tender
determination. She was so beautiful and kind and gentle, and I blinked as the
brightness of her light threatened to blind me. Locking my arms against her
back, I tensed as her soft features distorted from the closeness, and her palms
framed my jaw, drawing me closer.
Lucy’s kiss was feathery, tentative, and shocks rippled down my neck and
sternum as her palms flexed against my cheeks. Cupping the back of her
head, I couldn’t keep the air in my lungs, and she shivered against me.
Goosebumps blanketed my body, all the hairs on my arms and legs and chest
standing straight up. Pulling back, I blinked hard, and her face tinged pink as
she panted lightly below the happiness sparkling bright in her eyes.
I was speechless, and Lucy cuddled up against my chest to tuck her head
under my chin. Tightening my grip on her, I buried my nose in her hair and
sucked in a huge breath.
This was peace. Having her in my arms, where nothing else existed . . .
Lucy was my peace.
“Do you want to take the dogs to the beach?” Lucy was still for a long
moment, and I savored the feel of her before she nodded against my sternum.
Her soft hair tickled my cheeks when she pulled back, and I rolled onto my
back to watch her sit up. Stretching her arms above her head, she could’ve
sprouted white wings in that moment, and I reached to palm between her
shoulder blades.
 “I’m gonna go get a bathing suit and my sandals.”
“Do you know how to surf?” She shook her head before scooting off the
king-sized bed, and I sat up to throw my legs over the side. “You’re gonna
learn. I have to take Sriracha out first, though. He’ll get mad if he doesn’t get
his turn.”
“What? Really?” Nodding firmly, I rubbed my jaw and neck and rolled
my shoulders before glancing at the clock. The time flashed seven-nineteen
a.m. in bright green, and I ran both my hands through my hair as Lucy
chuffed a laugh. “You taught them to surf?”
“Yeah. I had a lot of time on my hands. How long are you staying in
Hawaii?”
“Uh, this is day three, so . . . today. Tonight, really. My flight leaves at
eleven p.m. What about you?” Surprise rose my brows, and Lucy shrugged
lightly as we made our way into the sitting area. “I didn’t plan any of this,
remember. It was mostly Meredith that made all the arrangements, and then
my mom did a lot of talking. She didn’t even tell me about this until three
weeks ago and the tickets had been bought months ago.”
“Wow, she really did take over your wedding. I didn’t book a ticket back.
I figured I’d just leave when I got tired of this place.” This time, Lucy shot
me a quizzical look and I was the one who shrugged carelessly. What else
was there to say? I had no one waiting for me, no job I needed to get back to,
and I rented a room monthly.
My dogs were already at the door, waiting, and I rubbed the back of my
neck as I went through yesterday in my head. I’d taken them out some time in
the night, but Marshal refused to come with us. Sriracha was going to be a
problem until they got used to each other.
Not to mention Marshal wasn’t a traveled dog, which complicated things
a bit.
“I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Her lips parted, but whatever Lucy was
going to say never breached before she thought better of it. Nodding, she
turned down the hallway, and I gnawed on my lower lip as I scanned her.
Long, golden locks the color of the sun swished, and I clenched my hands
into fists by my sides. I despised that she was getting farther and farther
away, even though I knew where she was going and that she’d be back. My
plain, gray t-shirt on her shoulders bunched up slightly around her wide hips,
but I liked long shirts- even then, the fabric barely covered her butt
completely.
 And then, she disappeared into a room, and I inhaled deeply as my heart
started to beat again. Stuffing my fists into my jean pockets, I sucked my
teeth absently as I turned on my heel to head for the elevator. Sriracha was
already waiting impatiently, and I reached to rub his head and cleared my
throat roughly.
“What was that about?” Of course, he couldn’t answer my question, and
Sriracha gave me that big grin of his as I punched the button. “Was she gonna
tell me to brush my teeth? I’ll do that when we get back.”
“Hold the elevator!” Twisting at the call, I clenched my jaw absently as a
guy came jogging over, and he cast me a grateful smile even though I hadn’t
done anything. The elevator wasn’t up here, yet. “Thanks. Sorry for yelling.”
“No problem. You in a hurry?”
“Not anymore. I was supposed to leave an hour ago, but I just woke up.
I’m going outside to smoke. No one ever told me vacationing was so damn
stressful.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, and he reached down to pet
Ketchup with an impressed grunt. “Are they from the same litter? They’re
pretty hearty, huh?”
“Yeah, they are. They’re only ten months old. They’ll get bigger.” The
elevator gave a shrill ping, and I gestured the guy to go first. “Do you like
dogs?”
“Ah, not enough to get one myself, honestly.” The conversation fizzled,
and I didn’t try to revive it as the elevator stuttered to begin its descent.
Glancing down, Sriracha was giving this guy the eye, his lips puttering every
so often, and Ketchup was just lavishing in his attention. This hotel had,
maybe, a hundred and fifty rooms on prime beach real estate, and I couldn’t
wait to get outside and breathe some fresh air.
19

Lucy
“Say ‘condiments’!” Grinning broadly as Mateo threw his head back and
laughed, the deep timbre resonated against my bones, and I tilted my phone
to get a better angle. He stood on the beach in his shorts, his dogs sitting on
either side of him and his board stuck in the sand. It was a ridiculously cliché
photo. “I like that one.”
“Come here.“ Stepping through the hot sand, I clutched my phone tightly,
and Mateo wrapped his arm around me securely. He was dripping ocean
water, smelled of salt, and I bristled with happiness, like a dog getting pet in
just the right spot. Holding my phone up, I couldn’t stop smiling, and the
device trembled slightly before Mateo reached to grab it.
I wasn’t a real fan of selfies, but Mateo took a few good ones before
nodding to himself and handing me back my phone. I just wanted . . . no, I
needed to immortalize the rest of this trip. I needed him and me-
documentation that I wasn’t hallucinating or something. That I didn’t die in
my hotel room, and this was the minutes before I was revived. Marshal came
up between my legs, and I reached down to pet him as the ocean breeze
caressed my back.
“Are you procrastinating because you don’t want to surf, Lucy?” Pausing,
embarrassment flooded my cheeks, and Mateo squeezed my hip comfortingly
as he wrapped his other arm around me. Rocking side to side, he kissed my
cheek, and his breath rolled down my neck to draw a gasp from my throat.
“There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“I know. I just . . . I don’t like deep water where I can’t touch the
bottom.” Surprise rose his brows at my grumble, and my chest tightened
when he leaned back with questions in his eyes. “Yeah, so I’d just rather . . .
not . . . go that far out.”
“Okay. I can still throw you in the swell, though, right?” I nodded before
I really registered the question, and Mateo tossed my phone on the blanket to
hoist me into his arms. Alarm bells rang, my heart leaping into my throat, and
I squawked like a dying parrot in shock. He chuckled as I grappled his
shoulders, and my body tingled as he wadded back to the ocean.
 Excitement did all sorts of things to me as Mateo jostled me around, and
my glee burst from my lips before he really did throw me. The water reached
his waist, and I held my breath as I was engulfed in the ocean’s cool embrace.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I let the sensation of being underwater, with my
heels digging into the sand. There was something about being totally
submerged that was so comforting and peaceful, and I planted my feet on the
sand before pushing myself up.
Taking a huge breath, I wiped my eyes and swept back my hair, and
Mateo smiled broadly with happiness shimmering in his brown eyes. Behind
him, the dogs were waddling into the ocean, but Marshal was much more
wary— he’d never seen the ocean before. Walking over to me, Mateo sloshed
heavily through the water, and I stood up as exhilaration flooded my veins.
I pushed him, not very hard, but in the water and not expecting it, Mateo
flopped and flailed as he lost his balance. Giggling wildly as his splashes
streamed against my mid-section, I started hustling back to shore, and he
swam after me to grab my ankle. Squeaking as goosebumps swept up my
legs, I couldn’t stop myself from flailing back, but he caught me with warm,
strong palms on my shoulders.
Holding me to his chest, Mateo leaned back into the ocean, and I closed
my eyes as he crawled backward slowly. Caressing my belly and neck as I
sprawled atop him, his heartbeat steady against my back, and the sun
streamed down to warm my face.
“So, what happened to all your party guests? They just disappeared after
yesterday?” Humming softly in acknowledgment, I reached to cover his hand
with mine just below the top of my two-piece, and Mateo sighed. “What
about your bridal party?”
“The only person in my bridal party was Mickey, and Seth’s two sisters,
but they really hate their mom. They’re both married, and I guess she tried to
pull the same stuff with them, so the younger one, Jessie, who got married
first, had a disaster of a time. She had a second wedding because Meredith
just destroyed the first one. The older sister didn’t even let that happen. She
warned everyone involved that if Meredith did anything to any arrangements,
she’d sue them until they went bankrupt, and she’s also a lawyer, so . . . ”
Sniffing as I fought a frown, I tilted my head up as Mateo lifted his to arch a
brow quizzically. “I think Seth is only in law school because his mom made
him, and now he’s in too much debt to get out. When we were in high school,
all he talked about was being a wildlife photographer and seeing the world.”
 “That’s very sad.” Slowly walking us back to shore, Mateo and I sat in
the swell, and I leaned against his chest as I crossed my legs. High school,
when Seth and I got together, seemed so long ago, and he rubbed my
shoulders and neck as those memories drudged up from the very back of my
mind.
“We were together for eight months when I told him I wanted to break
up. I went to his house, and we sat on his porch while I worked up the
courage to get to that part of the conversation. His mom was eavesdropping
the whole time, so when I finally said I didn’t think it was working out, she
came out and invited me in for dinner. It was, like, not even three p.m.- we
just got out of school. She wouldn’t let me leave, and spent all day talking
about how great Seth was.” Discomfort glued my tongue to the roof of my
mouth, and I fiddled with Mateo’s leg hairs absently as I scrunched up my
nose at the memory. “The next time I tried was about two years later, right at
the start of my sophomore year of college. I was commuting, and Seth needed
a ride, so I told him I wanted to break up. He was all like, ‘yeah, I think this
went on long enough’, and that was that. Then, Meredith found out. Seth was
really upfront about it. He’d already hooked up with some girl in his program
who he liked, but Meredith showed up at his dorm and made her cry, and that
was the end of that.”
“Then, the third time was nine months ago. I broke up with him over the
phone, and gave him back his ring the next time we saw each other by
chance. His mom came to my house every night and banged on the door all
night long. When I called the cops, she’d run away, but then came back. Seth
was starting to miss court dates because of her shenanigans, so after two
weeks, we got back together. He passed the bar a month ago, and we were
going to break it off again, but lo and behold . . . ” Gesturing in the air
absently, I ducked my head as a scowl darkened the sun. “It just happened so
out of control. Even if Seth and I did get married here, the marriage
certificate is a fake. We never applied for it. In order to get one, both people
need to be present and have an ID, so it was the one thing his mom couldn’t
do behind our backs.”
“What about your mom?” I made a face, and Mateo squeezed my
shoulders as I smoothed the dark hairs down his calves. “You’re an only
child, Lucy. You’d think she’d be invested in your happiness.”
“Ah, that’s the thing, though. Seth’s a good guy. He’s respectful and
charming and all that, and my mom was always telling me I wouldn’t get
better. When I was younger, I believed her. When I refused to let Seth move
into my house, my mom switched to attack mode and started doing the same
stuff Meredith did, which was weird because they really don’t like each
other.” Honestly, it was so liberating to get this off my chest. Mikayla was
my best friend, but she’d seen a lot of this firsthand and had her own
opinions. I just wanted someone to sympathize with me without telling me
what he or she thought. “I know how it makes me seem, but Seth was a huge
part of my life for a long time. I don’t hate him, and I’m not bitter even
though I hate his mom. We were engaged, but we weren’t in a relationship.
It’s strange.”
“I hope he grows from this, so it doesn’t infect his next relationship. Me,
I’ve never had a girlfriend in the traditional sense. I mean, my dad is Forbes’
eighth richest person in the world. It makes dating difficult. I’ve done some
stupidly reckless things as a result.” My heart ached for him, the disgusted lilt
in his tone directed at himself, and Mateo rested his chin on my shoulder to
wrap his arms around my mid-section. “Thank you for telling me these
things, Lucy. It’s up to you if you want to continue being friends with him.”
“Thank you for listening, Mateo.” The odyssey of my relationship with
Seth had officially ended, and, this time, there was no way Meredith was
going to start it up again. It was a shame that things had to come to this, but
Seth and I had learned and were friends, and I wasn’t going to just let that go.
“I want to do something nice for him. I was thinking, when we get back,
maybe I’ll buy him a really nice camera.”
“Speaking of going back, I’m going to book a flight when we go back
upstairs. I think it’s about time I left paradise behind.” Smiling as he
squeezed me to his chest, I caressed Mateo’s forearms and savored this
moment. What would happen at home was something I’d just have to
experience when we got there.
20

Lucy
“Lucy-y-y!” Lifting my head to find Mikayla running along the beach, I sat
up to take off my sunglasses, and she puffed slightly as she slowed to stop to
drop under the huge umbrella. “So, I was wondering if you and Mateo
wanted to come to lunch with me, Seth and his sisters, and Roger? We were
thinking of going to this sushi place, and I’ve been sent to get your opinion.”
“Oh, I can’t exactly ask him right now.” Turning to the ocean, I crossed
my legs as I spied Mateo and Sriracha paddling to shore. “But I guess I can in
a few minutes.”
“Cool. We got time to gossip. So, apparently, Meredith has called
everyone here and no one is willing to go get her. Seth said that he talked to
the officers who arrested her when they bumped into each other earlier at a
strip mall, and they’re holding her until her flight and escorting her onto the
plane.” A harsh bark of laughter escaped me, dribbling in disdain, and my
brows rose high at the lengths those officers went to. Mikayla practically
beamed in devilish glee at these events, and I shook my head slightly as she
leaned back on her arms under the shade. “We’re heading to the airport at
nine, by the way. What’s Mateo gonna do?”
“He’ll book a separate flight, he said. Where’s my mom? Have you seen
her at all?” Mikayla shook her head, flipping back her curls, and I huffed
slightly as irritation tightened my chest beneath my white bikini. “She can’t
take responsibility for anything. This disaster is her fault just as much as
mine or Meredith’s.”
“I mean, at least she’s leaving you in peace right now. Who knows
what’ll happen when we get home . . . ” Trailing off, my best friend
straightened to pick at her flowy, light blue blouse out of the corner of my
eye, but I only shrugged. “At least you can’t get guilt tripped into getting
back together anymore since you’re with Mateo. No more ‘oh, well, Seth’s as
good as you’re gonna get’ nonsense.”
“The last thing she said to me before we went downstairs yesterday was
that I’ll fall in love with Seth eventually. That I may be overwhelmed now,
but it’ll get better. It was like she was acknowledging that this was a mistake
and trying to pretend it wasn’t at the same time.” I inhaled deeply as Mateo
reached shallow enough water to climb off his board, and he pushed Sriracha
until the dog, too, hopped off into the ocean. “I told her that I hated her, that I
was unhappy, that she wasn’t allowed in my life anymore. So, maybe she’s
just sulking, waiting for this trip to be over so she can act like nothing’s
wrong like usual. The only difference now is that I’m not breaking up with
Seth to be single, and that can’t be used against me.”
“For what it’s worth, even Jessie fell under Meredith’s heel, and she’s a
controlling bitch at the best of times.” Only nodding at that, I stood up as
Mateo clambered onto the sand and swept back his hair while Mikayla
popped up. “Hey, I was wondering if you two want to come to lunch with all
of us— Seth and his sisters and their husbands and like nine people in total.
We were thinking sushi.”
“Sure, if Lucy wants to. I have to get changed and stuff, first.” If he was
nervous about meeting everyone, he didn’t show it, and I nodded when he
cast me a questioning glance. “Cool. Do you want a ride back to the hotel,
Mikayla?”
“That’d be great, thanks.” Gathering up my bag, I shook out my beach
towel to fold it up under my arm, and that warm, mosey feeling invaded my
head. “I got a question . . . when we get back, am I gonna be homeless?”
“What? Why would you be homeless? I’m not gonna just kick you out on
your butt, Mickey.” Mikayla shrugged at my question, and I held my bag and
towel to my chest as Marshal rubbed up against my legs. Nothing else was
said as we headed up the bank to the parking lot, and I gnawed on my lower
lip diligently. I wasn’t going to be that friend that disappeared when I got into
a relationship— a real one. Knowing Mikayla, she probably thinks we’ll have
loud, obnoxious sex all the time.
I could guarantee that’s what she thought.
My best friend climbed into the back with all the dogs, and the drive to
the hotel was shorter than the reverse. Piling out of the Jeep, I paused to dig
into my beach bag for my phone; things had been so crazy that I put every
single ringer on mute. Frowning as I scanned the eleven missed texts and
twenty-plus missed calls, I rounded the back of the vehicle with my head
buried in my screen.
‘Lucy, it’s your mom. Call me when you get this. We need to talk.’ My
brows rose at the huge blocks of texts that followed, but mostly why did my
mom verify it was her? Rolling my eyes, I stepped up on the curb to sit on a
small bench, and Mikayla sat next to me to look over my shoulder at my
phone.
“I’ll be right down. You need a shirt or something?” Clenching my jaw as
I scanned the texts that got angrier and more belligerent, I tore my eyes away
from the screen at Mateo’s question. His cheek twitched, the only indication
that he was annoyed, before leaving all the dogs with me with a stern
command and heading inside. Guilt twanged in my chest, but it seemed like
there were finally hairline fractures in our picture-perfect last twenty-four
hours.
“You should just block her and delete the conversation. God only knows
how her attempt to fix things always ends.” I slumped heavily against the
bench, flopped my head back, and groaned a tortured sound of affirmation.
“She’s not allowed in your life anymore, remember?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Screw it.” My thumbs trembled as I pressed
the three dots on top of the conversation, and I hesitated for a moment before
tapping the screen. The option to block my mom was right there, so easily
accessed, and I pursed my lips thinly. Tapping the option, I inhaled deeply in
a futile attempt to calm my rapid heartbeat, and I tapped the verification
button.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I ducked my head and propped my elbows on
my knees to hold my forehead in my hand. That was harder than I expected,
but it also felt much, much more relieving than I thought it would. I
straightened to suck in a big breath, and Mikayla rubbed my back before I
dropped my phone in my bag to pull out a tank top and a pair of shorts.
“I’m good. Where’s Seth and everyone?” Mickey waved her phone
tellingly, and I nodded as I swiped back my hair and fixed my shoulders
back. “Let’s get some sushi, for sure. Text them.”
“Alrighty.” Standing up to pull on my clothes over my bathing suit, I
fastened the button and zipper, and Mikayla stretched her legs out with a
groan. “I’ll start looking for a place when we get back. You’re not gonna kick
me out on my ass, but I’m not a fan of being a third wheel.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m not gonna rush you- you’ll rush yourself.” She stuck
out her tongue at me as I pulled my shirt down, and the sliding, glass doors to
the hotel slid open. Ketchup stood up, his tail stump waggling excitedly, and
I twisted as Seth, his sisters, and Roger came sauntering out of the hotel. I
thought it would be awkward, but my eyes met his and there was . . . nothing.
There was no discomfort, no fear or shame, and Seth smiled as he gave me a
half-hug.
“I’m sorry about all this, Lucy.” Seth spoke like he’d accidentally bought
me an aisle seat, not a window seat; there wasn’t any strong, underlying guilt,
and I didn’t feel any undue shame bubble up to clog my throat. I ran my hand
through my hair, and he rocked back on his heels to stuff his hands in his
cargo short pockets. “I was considering taking a different flight out, so I
didn’t have to hear my mom on the plane, but I have headphones for a reason,
I guess.”
“It’s okay. Where’s your brothers-in-law?” My gaze slipped over heads,
and Seth scratched his goatee as he shrugged carelessly. “Oh, I also wanted to
ask you, has my mom tried to talk to you at all?”
“Yeah, I just saw her in the hallway. She apologized and stuff for
yesterday, which . . . I don’t even remember anything from yesterday.”
Smiling at the sheepish confession, I huffed a laugh as humor wound around
my ribs, and Seth had the audacity to blush. “Anyway, she told me she’d try
to convince you to still go through with it if I was willing to take you back. I
don’t know. I just walked away while she was talking. I appreciate the
apology, but . . . ”
“If you want to block her, you can. I did.” Anger quickly replaced the
pleasantness in my veins, but I pushed it down as he nodded. “So, if your
mom tries to sue me, will you be my lawyer?”
“No.” Seth’s face blanked out, and my eyes widened as his narrowed into
tight points. “You were right, Lucy— my mom controls a lot of what I do. I
intentionally flunked the Bar, but I lied and said I’d passed to keep her quiet.
Look at where that got me . . . us. I’m sure you’ll find a great lawyer who
wants an easy case, though.”
“O-oh. What are you gonna do, then?” He only shrugged again, and my
heart ached for him as I reached to touch his arm in comfort. Ever since we
got together, Seth’s mom bullied him into a lot of decisions he didn’t want to
make, and it was so hard to break that. “You’ll figure it out, Seth. You’re
more than capable.”
In that moment, Mateo came jogging out of the lobby in shorts and a
faded graphic t-shirt, and my brows rose at the two service jackets hanging
over his arm. The conversation between my would-be sisters-in-law stumbled
to a halt, and he swiped his hand through his lush, styled hair before I
suddenly remembered how to work my mouth.
21

Mateo
“At least you upgraded, Lucy.” I almost choked when Jessie chirped her
opinion, and her brother shot her a glare as the other girls burst out laughing.
The sushi place was surprisingly empty for the lunch rush, and I sat back as
this woman scanned me from across the table. “I’m allowed to say that
because Seth’s my little brother. It’s no wonder he’s a bit of a mommy’s boy,
but hopefully that’ll end now. Everyone’s got a breaking point.”
“Ah, thanks? Honestly, I don’t really have an opinion on that. My mother
died when I was a toddler, and my father never remarried or anything.” He’s
a cranky, old bastard.” That got some stifled laughter, and I picked up a piece
of sushi off my plate with my chopsticks to wave it dismissively. “I also have
two older brothers, so I can only imagine how much worse it is to have two
older sisters.”
“Oh-h-h!“ Jessie tinged pink, and I smirked a little as the atmosphere
leveled out above my head. Her husband wrapped his arm around her chair,
and Seth tossed me a thankful look from the other side of the huge amount of
food we’d ordered. “You opened yourself up for that one, Jessie. Anyway, I
was talking to Auntie Marissa this morning and she said that Mom said that
she’s going to try to get everyone to pay her back for this trip because the
wedding didn’t happen. Normally, that’d kinda be a somewhat okay thing to
do, but, I mean, we’re in Hawaii, damnit. This is a three-day vacation that
some of our relatives never could do on their own for whatever reason. It’s
not like we had to go back early or something.”
Seth’s oldest sister’s declaration earned disdainful hums from around the
large, circular table, and I propped my elbow on the top to hold my cheek on
my fist. I couldn’t help but wonder how these girls turned out so great when
their mother was so crazy, and I glanced over at Lucy sitting next to me
chewing a tuna roll and staring into space. Both my dogs were under the
table, happy to receive any scraps that people deliberately gave them, but
Marshal didn’t have the luxury of having access to restaurants.
“You know, I just realized that none of my family, but my mom is here.”
Speaking up quietly, Lucy scrunched up her nose as she swallowed roughly,
and I frowned under furrowed brows. “Mikayla had to buy her own ticket,
didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” Her best friend sat on her other side, and Lucy grabbed her drink
to sip as Mikayla flipped her hair bad-bitch-style. “Whatever. I had enough
money to do it, so it didn’t matter. I wasn’t gonna let either of you be the
maid of honor, no offense.”
“None taken. You’re the best friend— we’re just obligated being Seth’s
sisters. To be fair, though, it was probably the easiest maid of honor duties
ever. I managed to keep a handle on my wedding, barely, simply because
when I rage, I’m respectful about it, and employees don’t like being spit at.
Mom tried to change the flavors of the cake by going there before they
opened and banging on the door. I got the call and told them to not care and
the call the cops any time she steps on the premises. I got a free mini cake for
being polite.” Jessie’s little story came to an end, and she cast me the most
interested glance possible; the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I
wondered if she knew how intense she was. “How’d you two meet?”
“I took a beating for Lucy.” My confession got everyone’s attention
instantly, and Lucy grabbed my hand under the table to squeeze tightly.
Jessie’s lips parted in shock while I silently debated exactly how much to say
without opening up for questions. “We were double booked at the hotel, so
she got her room for free. That’s technically how we met. When she won the
jackpot on the five-dollar machine, some dude ran up and said she stole his
machine, he wanted the jackpot, whatever. He got kicked out and waited for
her to leave, and I happened to be in the lobby at the time.”
That was close enough to her story, I thought. It wasn’t like Lucy told
these people anything substantial, anyway. She went soul-searching and won
some money, the end. Case closed. I could see that Marissa knew I was lying,
but she didn’t point it out in front of everyone.
“Why didn’t you ever take a beating for me, huh, Jack?” Marissa, Seth’s
oldest sister, turned to her husband with a mock glare, but he was totally
unphased, the chilliest guy I’d ever seen.
“I take beatings from you, Mar. That’s got to be good enough.” He took a
swig of his beer with a slight, teasing smirk on his face, and she huffed
loudly. “I remember the day we met. I was the sous chef, and your mom took
you to my place for your eighteenth birthday. She demanded to talk to me
personally about her food, and you were so embarrassed.”
Ah, that explained it. Every single person that had ever witnessed one of
Meredith’s tantrums had probably been so obviously disgusted that the kids
realized it wasn’t how they wanted to be.
“Really? What’d she say? More importantly, what’d you say?” Mikayla
spoke up, taking the attention off Lucy, and I tangled our fingers under the
table comfortingly. She picked out a piece of tuna from her roll to feed it to
Ketchup, and Sriracha headbutted my leg jealously.
“Ah, Meredith had eaten about three-quarters of her food before
complaining about it. It’s a standard practice to try to get discounts or comps
while still enjoying the food. The waitress was in tears, so hysterical that she
eventually threw up in the bathroom over it. We sent her home, and some
rich asshole with a spider tattoo crawling up his neck gave every single
member of the staff a four-grand tip.” My breath hitched and I tensed, briefly
before remembering none of these people knew who I was. Jack continued on
as if that wasn’t more than an interesting side bit to his story, and Lucy
smoothed the bristling hairs on the top of my palm with her thumb. “My
then-boss lets the waitresses deal with their own customers because he’s not
the kind of guy who’ll take the customer’s side anyway. So, I’m standing
there listening to Meredith, and Mar is just melting deeper and deeper into
the booth as Meredith gets louder and more aggressive. At one point, she
even stands up, but I’m six-foot-six, so it’s whatever.”
“Oh, my God, stop.” Covering her face in embarrassment, Marissa sunk
into her chair, but her husband ignored her as he took a drink of his beer. The
tension in me slowly dissipated, and I took a huge, stabilizing breath before
reaching for my own beer to wash down the sourness on my tongue.
“It gets worse, as you can imagine. I’m pretty chill, so after she exhausted
herself, Meredith’s panting and spitting a little and her lipstick is sticking to
her teeth, and she yelled for the manager. Keep in mind, this is a two
Michelin Star place with wait staff practically in tuxes, and even us cooks
have a uniform. It’s not some hokey diner, and the food is far from cheap. At
the time, our cheapest steak was like fifty bucks. Skipping out on a meal ends
up being two hundred dollars, easy, especially because she was letting you
drink the thirty-dollar margaritas.” Jack cracked a smirk when Marissa
groaned in foreboding, and the entire table hung on his words even though
they all probably knew the story. “I didn’t want to embarrass Marissa because
I wanted to get in her pants, so I just told Meredith that she could pay for her
meal and leave or I’d call the police, she can pay, and get dragged out. I
found out Meredith likes to call bluffs that day.”
 “How’d you end up getting married after dealing with that?” I couldn’t
help the question, and that’s when Jack’s smile stretched to reveal deep,
diamond-cutting dimples. Marissa was practically under the table at this
point, and my brows rose as anticipation thickened my blood. “I doubt she
would’ve taken that laying down.”
“Oh, she didn’t. This is where it gets bad. She, for some reason I still
haven’t figured out, filed an order of protection against me personally. She
didn’t read the signs that we have video and audio surveillance at that
restaurant, so I brought it in when I contested the order. The judge watched
about fifteen seconds of Meredith completely destroying this girl and denied
the order and went absolutely ballistic on Meredith. Turns out, that chick was
the judge’s niece.” My jaw nearly hit the table, and there were some gasps of
surprise, as if everyone was hearing that part for the first time. No doubt, it
was an egregious twist in the story, and Jack smiled over at Marissa with
fondness and affection as he continued. “Marissa was so impressed and star-
struck, she decided to go to law school. She actually came up to me and
wanted to piss her mom off, and I wasn’t gonna say ‘no’. Come to find out,
she’s really very sweet.”
“Shut up, Jack.” Grumbling as she shoved a piece of fish in her mouth,
Marissa scowled darkly, and I was just stunned. That was one hell of a story,
for sure.
“Every time I hear that story, it gets better and better.” Mikayla sighed
wistfully, and I realized this was the first time, maybe ever, that I’d hung out
with people that weren’t paid to be around me. And they were good people
despite the circumstances. No one questioned me, where I came from;
everyone around the table was just relieved the drama was finally over.
What a mind-blowing concept . . . friends.
22

Lucy
A soft tap on my shoulder tore my eyes off my phone, and I glanced up to
find my mom standing in front of me with a somber look on her face, but
anger and betrayal swirling in her eyes. Mateo’s plane wasn’t due to land for
another hour, but everyone else had already gotten their stuff and headed
home. I assumed my mom had, too, to try to avoid the situation, but
obviously, I was wrong.
I turned back to my phone screen to scroll through the news and weather,
but she sat next to me stiffly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my
mom frowning, and I pulled my headphones over my ears. As if that wasn’t a
clear enough indication, I twisted away from her, and Marshal shuffled to
readjust himself against my feet.
The flights from Honolulu to San Diego had been awkward— Seth sat
with me and Mikayla sat with Meredith, but that didn’t stop her from talking
the whole time. On the second flight out of San Diego, Seth told the pilot and
all the attendants that if she opened her mouth before the plane got off the
ground, they could kick her off immediately. Surprisingly, Meredith didn’t
want to chance that scenario, but once we were in the air, she locked herself
in the bathroom until we landed in Nashville.
Then, promptly, she got arrested again.
During the total eleven hours of flights, my mom had ignored me, and we
hadn’t been seated together. Seth and I had talked about his future, and I
knew she heard me say ‘I want to be friends’. I thought that wasn’t
inappropriate given the circumstances. Seth agreed before going on a brutal
tirade about desperately wanting to be a photographer, complete with tears
and more than a few tissues.
The whole journey made me so sad for him.
My thoughts were interrupted when my mom pulled my headphone away
from my ear, and I tensed as the fine hairs on my cheek bristled. Smacking
her hand away, I glared hotly at her as her aged, long face twisted in hurt, and
her gasp rang loudly through the terminal. It was ten p.m., and the few people
that were milling around were trying their best to get to sleep. Few eyes
turned to us, and I twisted to put my back to my mom fully.
My headphones weren’t connected to my phone, so if she did say
something, I’d hear it as a muffled garble. I hoped she didn’t talk, though—
my mom had said everything she needed to say and more. Being in a
relationship with a good man that I didn’t love was what she wanted for me,
and after years of getting the ‘well, you don’t want to be single and
miserable’ line forced down my throat, I was done.
You’re an only child. You’d think she’d care about your happiness.
Mateo’s words floated up from the depths of my mind, and I pursed my lips
thinly as I scrolled down on my phone. Did my mom care more about my
happiness or about how she perceived my happiness? Was she so afraid of
me being like her, alone and bitter because she has bad taste in men, that that
fear superseded what I wanted?
It really was a shame that I knew the answers to those questions without
having to ask.
“Lucy!” I jumped as my mom’s shout right in my ear, leaping from my
chair and stepping on my dog, and Marshal’s shrill bark of shock jarred my
bones. Whipping around, my body stopped but my hand didn’t, and the
smack of palm on cheek echoed louder than even my heart beating in my
throat. Clutching my phone to my chest, I stared at my mom through wide
eyes as she held her cheek, jaw nearly on the floor. Ripping my headphones
off, I clenched them tightly in my fist just to have something to hold onto, so
I didn’t hit her again.
“What the fuck! Go away! I don’t know you! Security!” Screaming at the
top of my lungs, I made as huge a commotion as I could, and my mom went
beet red at my accusations. “Security!”
“Don’t avoid me, Lucy. I’m your mother, damnit!” Some random dude
came sprinting full throttle from the other side of the hallway, and I didn’t
stop glaring at my mom as she popped up from her seat. Her red cheek turned
tomato-esque, almost purple, and she wagged her finger in my face. “I want
to talk to you about the wedding, and—”
“Security! Somebody, this lady’s crazy!” We were outside the terminal,
and the guy reached us as I called out again to position himself between us.
He was huge in a bulky, muscular type of way, but no shorter than myself at
maybe five-foot-five. Hiding behind him as I grabbed Marshal and hoisted
his scared butt in my arms, I backed up while he held his hands up and
blocked her way.
 “Lucillia! I’m trying to talk—” She didn’t get another word out before
huffing and glaring at the guy between us, and Marshal hugged me as he
shivered from what just happened. He was a very sheltered dog. I hadn’t ever
so much as accidentally stepped on his paw, and he just got a heel to the ribs.
Damnit!
“Ma’am, back away or we’re gonna have a problem.” Security guards
came bustling out from the terminal as the man spoke in a deep rasp, and my
mom stomped her foot indignantly.
“That’s my daughter, and we’re having a conversation that doesn’t
involve you!” I must’ve screamed pretty loud for security to react that fast,
and we were suddenly surrounded by four more men. Clearly, the situation
didn’t need an explanation, and one man told my mom that she needed to
leave immediately. Watching it gave me such an ugly sensation, and I looked
at my feet as my mom stormed off without much fuss. She was followed by
two of the guards, but the guy not uniformed turned to me to scan my
terrified dog critically.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think. I just . . . ” My explanation turned to
ash on my tongue, but he didn’t seem at all put out as I stroked Marshal’s
back soothingly. “I’m sorry.”
“When anyone screams for help, I just run. It’s nothing to apologize for.
You want to talk about it? I heard the word ‘wedding’. That can’t be good.”
Rolling my lips between my teeth, I sat down to hold Marshal in my lap, and
he’d stopped shaking but wouldn’t stop whining a pained, faint sound that
broke my heart. The guy sat next to me, and I inhaled a deep, shuddering
breath before opening my mouth.
“Ten months ago, I got kidnapped and held hostage for seven days. My
mom doesn’t know. I told everyone I went soul-searching, but I was locked
in a concrete room almost the entire time. There’s been a lot of problems
between my mom and I already, for a long time. I’ve been with this guy for
almost eight years too long because our mom’s just torture us until we get
back together. We were supposed to get married the day before yesterday, but
we didn’t. My mom, she told me to suck it up and settle, and basically that
my happiness didn’t matter.” Raising thick eyebrows in surprise, he frowned
darkly, and I grimaced as I scratched Marshal’s head. His weight was
comfortable against me, and he hid his whole head down my shirt before I
cleared my throat to continue. “So, I told her that she wasn’t allowed in my
life anymore. Anything she has to say, she could’ve said it at any point in the
last eight years. She could’ve even not done anything to apologize for in the
first place, but . . . ”
“Ah, shut her up for the moment, but not forever, huh?” Jerking my head
in a nod, my chest tightened at that blunt way to put it, and he sat back to
cross his knees. “What made you finally put your foot down?”
“The man that was a hostage with me . . . I saw him. Being in that room, I
honestly never felt so connected with someone, you know? We went our
separate ways, but when I saw him again, it was like we were back in that
room. And surprisingly enough, I preferred that over being where I was at the
time. My mom always tells me that my ex is the best I’ll get, and being single
is miserable and lonely and I’d end up crawling back to my ex anyway, so
what’s the point of breaking up? He’s a good guy . . . a great guy. He’s just . .
. not great for me.” Self-depreciation soured my grimace, and I glanced over
at the guy as a thoughtfulness creased between his brows. “I bet you’re
wondering why I didn’t stand up for myself.”
“Nah, my parents sent me to the military to ‘straighten’ me out because
I’m gay. It didn’t work.” He shot me the most charming, saucy smirk, and I
couldn’t help but giggle before it fell into seriousness again. “I just happen to
love being in the service, but rarely does anyone get that lucky. My dad was
actually the one to crack and accept that I was gay, and my mom hasn’t said a
single word to me in almost fifteen years. Moms get used to being moms, I
guess, if that makes sense.”
“Yeah, my parents are divorced, and my mom really has bad taste in men,
so I guess she legitimately thought my ex was unique in being a good guy. I
haven’t seen much of my dad since then.” I just spewed out that information,
and the stranger, who’s name I wasn’t going to ask, just nodded knowingly.
This is gonna be a long hour.
23

Mateo
“Lucy.” She paused her conversation to look up, her big, blue eyes shining
with relief, and I smiled even as concern warped my brow. “Why’s Marshal
in your shirt? What happened?”
“Ah, it’s a bit of a story.” Setting down my backpack, I ran my hand
through my hair as a million thoughts raced behind my eyes, and Ketchup
stuck himself between Lucy’s legs. He licked Marshal’s back, and Lucy
turned back to the man she was talking to with a smile. “Thanks for waiting
with me.”
“No problem. I’ve got another two hours to go. Have a safe drive.” I
grabbed her bag and my own, and Lucy cradled her dog as we walked away
unceremoniously. Casting her a curious glance on the way out of the
terminal, I shouldered my backpack as waited for her to speak up.
“My mom yelled at me, and I stepped on him by accident. I made a huge
scene and got her dragged out by security, and that guy sat with me while I
waited for you.” Understanding flooded my veins, but I stayed quiet as we
reached baggage claim, and she sighed softly as she turned her baby blues to
me. “I just want to get home and sleep in my own bed. The flights were
awful. Meredith made such a huge fuss that she got arrested when we
landed.”
“Do you want me to find somewhere else to stay tonight?” Her
expression drenched in guilt, but I only shook my head as I reached to caress
her cheek. “It’s okay. Travelling is a vicious monster.”
“Sorry. I really didn’t think the flights would take such a toll on me.” We
hadn’t discussed anything about what may or may not happen when we flew
back to Tennessee, but I didn’t expect to just live with her from this point
forward. Leaning her head on my shoulder, Lucy closed her eyes to sigh, and
I rubbed her lower back as we waited for her luggage. “Have you just been
living out of rental cars this whole time? Isn’t it expensive?”
“Sort of. The day I left the hospital, my brother and I went to a used car
dealership, but I realized that driving all the way to Nevada was going to be
torture.” Smiling when Lucy glanced up at me, I cupped the side of her head,
and she huffed softly. Cute. “So, I axed that part and got a plane ticket to
Reno, got a rental car, got the dogs, drove into California and rented this
month-by-month place until I decided to go to Hawaii. I was there for a
week, maybe, before we reconnected. I don’t have a fixed place, though. I
told my landlady I was going to Hawaii, cleaned out my stuff—”
“You threw it all away, didn’t you?” Nodding without hesitation, my
smile widened when she laughed a little, straightening to shake out her
blonde waves. “You don’t have to answer, but . . . how much did your dad
give you?”
“The same he gave you, I’m guessing. Fifty million. It’s enough to live
the rest of my life off of, and I’ve spent a little less than twenty thousand
dollars so far. Why?” Lucy’s beige hardcase came tumbling down onto the
belt, and I grabbed it as she adjusted her grip on Marshal. The poor lab was
horrified, didn’t move- didn’t do anything but cuddle against her with his
head down her shit.
“The house across the street from me is up for sale.” My brows rose at
that, and Lucy blushed furiously at the heavy suggestion lacing her tone. “My
place is small. My granddad bought and fixed it up for me since I’m the only
grandkid. It’s really not big enough for three dogs and three people. But the
house across the street is a four-bedroom, two-point-five-bath with a
backyard bigger than my entire property. I just think it’s an idea.”
“Okay. I’ll consider it.” Her eyes sparkled with happiness and
satisfaction, and I glanced at both my dogs before she took the lead. This
airport was just like all the others, and I shook my head away from that part
of my life before speaking up. “What about you? What have you done since
then?”
“I redid my front yard. I told you that. I put in new grass and a nice, little
walkway. I didn’t want to skimp on my backyard, though. I extended my
back patio that stretches from the back door to the garage. It’s like, maybe,
twenty-five feet, and now it’s six feet out instead of four. I scaled down my
garden and put in a pond that irrigates my garden. It’s really nice. I also got
the hammock. I’m not gonna lie, it was an impulse buy.” Lucy started to
ramble, but I more than enjoyed listening as her voice thickened with
achievement and pride. “I bought some new cookware and stuff, my stuff
was getting old, and I didn’t have some lids, or they were getting warped. I
got some really nice cast iron stuff.”
“Sounds like you had a nice time.” We exited through the doors farthest
on the left, and Lucy nodded as she looked around. “Are we taking a cab to
Jackson?”
“Mikayla drove me, but she left a while ago. It’s fine as long as the dogs
go to the bathroom first. It’s about a two-hour drive.” Lucy started digging
her phone out of its pocket on the side of her bag, still on my shoulder. “I’ll
get a Lyft. It’s pretty late, and Nashville’s got some awful drunks. I’m sure if
I tip enough, it’ll be an easy choice.”
“I’ll cover the tip if you pay the mileage.” Nodding again at my
compromise, Lucy tapped away on her phone, and I rocked back on my heels
as a stream of cars sat on the curb. Even at near midnight, the airport was
fairly busy, and I glanced over at her as the bright lights illuminating the
sidewalk made her hair shimmer. Her flight might’ve been awful in the
traditional sense, but mine was wracked with anxiety.
What would happen when the gold dust settled? If it ever did? Was this
clawing, burning need going to drain away once the monotony of life started
to drag? Even if this sensation never died, would Lucy and I have a life that
would satisfy us both?
“Lucy?” Her head whipped up, and I was caught in her eyes when they
met mine. My mouth dried, and, for a split second, all the noise around us
went silent in my ears. “Let’s bring the dogs over there.”
There was a bench, a patch of grass, and some doggy bags hanging in a
box off a pole. She nodded, and we shuffled the few yards over to the island
of green in a sea of concrete. Marshal would not take his head out of her shirt,
and my dogs sniffed around the patch. When she sat down, the dark lab
whimpered, and I set all our stuff in a pile while she wrestled him out of her
shirt.
“I can’t believe she did that. I must’ve been ignoring her for a good
minute. I had my headphones on, and she just screamed in my ear. I feel so
bad. You know that Meredith initially tried to not get him to come at all, but I
found out he was small enough to be able to ride with me. He’s so not used to
all this.” I dropped down next to Lucy, and she managed to get her dog on
her lap to pick at her shirt with a frown. “He stretched out my shirt.”
“I got my dogs registered as support animals. Most places don’t care, but
it’s just easier this way. They’re really well-behaved, too, which helps.”
Ketchup sauntered around the bench to sniff around Marshal, still curled up
and scared, and Lucy reached to pet him. Seeing the pit get attention, Marshal
lifted his head and perked his ears, and Ketchup grabbed him by the side of
the face to pull him off her lap. “Ketchup is a sweetheart with everyone.
Especially animals that are smaller than him.”
“I can see that.” Marshal dragged his body, becoming liquid dog in an
effort to stay on his owner’s lap, and I smiled slightly. Ketchup was very
gentle, but we had time before the Lyft arrived, and I leaned back to rub my
head furiously. “So, I was thinking . . . do you want to come over tomorrow
for a while?”
“Of course, I do. There’s some things we should talk about, Lucy.” Those
same questions I asked myself reflected in her eyes, and I reached over to
caress her cheek and neck. “We’ve been avoiding it.”
“Yeah. I know.” Ketchup finally managed to drag Marshal off Lucy’s lap,
and the chocolate lab tucked his tail between his legs as he desperately clung
to hers. Sriracha positioned himself between my knees, and I reached to rub
his head as all the questions we never asked floated around us. “It’ll be a little
easier once we get some sleep. We still have a long drive to Jackson. I really
would invite you to my place, Mateo, but that’s just a lot of anxiety.”
My lips quirked up at the apologetic tone, and I shook my head as I
twirled a lock of her hair around my finger. After the past few days, I didn’t
fault Lucy. Even without that factoring in, I wouldn’t blame her. The truth
was that we were basically strangers and being held captive together didn’t
really change that.
24

Lucy
“It smells good. What are you making?” Stumbling into the kitchen as
Mikayla stood over the stove, I hid my yawn behind my palm, and she
glanced back at me with a smile. Tiredness glued the soles of my feet to the
tiled floor, and I sat down heavily in a chair to slump over the table. “Mateo’s
coming over in a little bit. He just texted me that he’ll be here in ten or so.”
“Cool, there’s enough for him.” I was exhausted, in my soul, after that
disaster of a trip, and relief slithered through my veins when Mikayla didn’t
immediately bombard me with questions. Just before one a.m., I dragged my
butt through the front door and practically fell into the sofa. At least it’s a
good sofa so my back doesn’t hurt. “How’d it go last night?”
“How’d what go?” Twisting to cast me a knowing look, Mikayla wagged
her spatula around wordlessly, and I scrunched up my face. “You mean my
mom? I got her kicked out of the airport. She screamed in my ear when I
ignored her, and I accidentally stepped on Marshal.”
“I texted you saying she wasn’t leaving with the rest of us. That sucks,
Lucy.” I only groaned softly at that, and Mikayla turned back to her eggs and
bacon to carry on the conversation by herself. “The flight from Honolulu to
San Diego wasn’t too bad, I didn’t think. That grouchy, old bag talked a lot
of shit, but at least she wasn’t saying that horrible stuff to Seth. The whole
flight— how Seth was going to be miserable and she was never going to
forgive him and blah blah blah. How she wasn’t going to take him back in
when his life falls apart. It’s like, dude, you’re his mom, why are you saying
that? He never wanted to be a lawyer, but she saw how much money Marissa
made, and he felt so bad about giving you that ring that she picked out.”
“Really? I didn’t know that?” Surprise heightened my voice, and my best
friend nodded furiously, her loose bun wiggling all over the place. “I mean, I
knew she picked it out, but I didn’t know he felt bad about it.”
“That thing was fucking ugly, Lucy. I’m just sayin’ that trying to control
someone else’s life never goes well, so why is she pissed?” I didn’t have an
answer, and Mikayla didn’t wait for me to think one up as she flipped the
bacon. “Plus, if she wants to blame someone besides herself, why is she
blaming her son and not you? I mean, it makes no sense at all. If shit
happens, you don’t blame your own kid. It’s always someone else’s fault,
right? And after all that crap she said, she really had the audacity to grumble
that she should’ve made you break up years ago.”
“What did you say?” I had a great many ideas what Mikayla would’ve
said after listening to all that for six hours, and she snorted roughly. The
smell of bacon and eggs clung to my nostrils, and it only intensified when she
pushed down the bread into the toaster. My mouth watered, and I glanced at
the clock on the stovetop briefly; Mateo would be here any minute, and
excitement fluttered through my chest.
“I told her that if she kept her big-ass nose out of it, y’all two would’ve
broken yourselves up when you were still in high school. That’s what I said,
damnit.” She practically growled, my best friend whipped around, and I
blinked blearily as her face tinged red. “And you know what she said to me!
She said I needed to mind my own business!”
The doorbell rang, saving me from Mikayla’s intensity, and I sluggishly
stood up to head out of the kitchen. The sun poured through my front two
windows, and I popped open the door to smile at Mateo on the other side.
Gesturing him in wordlessly, I glanced down automatically, but no pit bulls
replaced his feet.
“Where’s Ketchup and Sriracha?”
“I left them at the hotel. I didn’t want to bring them in after what
happened to Marshal last night. How’s he doing?” His consideration warmed
my chest, and I nodded firmly as I shut the door behind him.
“He’s better, now. Mikayla’s making breakfast. There’s enough for you,
if you want some.” I’d painted my living room a darker blue than the very
faded blue it’d been before, and Mateo shook his head before seating himself
on the sofa. Anxiety bored in my gut as I sat next to him, and I pulled my hair
over my shoulder as expectancy flooded my veins. “So . . . ”
“I was going to call the realtor later about the house across the street. Do
you want to come with me to check it out?” The offer surprised me, and I cast
Mateo a glance as he sat back to cross his knees under furrowed brows. “I
want to know what your opinion of the place is, Lucy. Have you ever been in
it before?”
“Um, no. The people who used to live there were nice, though. They just
outgrew it, I think. The husband came and helped me fix my gutter once.”
Mateo nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face, and he reached to grab
my hand- almost like he couldn’t stop himself. My cheeks warmed, and I
leaned on his shoulder to soak up his smell and feel. “It’s been on the market
for about four months, so it hasn’t been sitting around forever.”
“Yeah, that’s good. I don’t think moving in together is the best idea. We
haven’t really talked about where to go from here.” I didn’t really know what
to say to that, and Mateo sighed heavily as he wrapped his arm around me.
“We should go on a date.”
“Okay. I’ll clear my schedule.” Smirking against my temple, Mateo
squeezed me gingerly, and I smiled as he circled his fingertips against my
shoulder. “I think . . . considering everything that happened, a date would be
really nice.”
“It’ll be a surprise.” I laughed at that, but my heart fluttered all the same
with the thrill of going on a date with someone and not dreading it. “I’m
probably going to get a car, too, at some point.”
“That’s a good idea. Are you going to get another Jeep?” He half-
shrugged, and I didn’t question it further as I trudged on to what we were
really supposed to be talking about. “Listen, Mateo, about our relationship, I
don’t want to get hung up on technicalities like time. I spent almost eight
years with Seth, and they weren’t bad, but I know firsthand that time doesn’t
mean anything. I mean, after how we met, and all the crap that’s happened
since then, I’m tired of wasting time and energy on other people’s opinions.
If nothing else, I learned that other people just ruin relationships. They don’t
help in any way.”
“I agree. Wholeheartedly.” Relief shoved the air from my lungs, and I felt
a hundred times lighter as Mateo kissed the top of my head and cupped my
cheek. “I remember this one time when I was in high school, and my dad
took me out of school for a day. You met him— he’s a straight up sociopath,
can’t feel anything for anyone at all. Can only feel selfishly. At the time, I
was going to this private school and had just broken up with my first
girlfriend ever. I was in tenth grade, I think. He knew I was taking it hard—
she cheated on me at a party after five months, which I found out about
through a video being shared around the school.”
The hairs on my neck bristled as I remembered vividly being hugged and
thanked by Mateo’s father, and I pulled my knees up as he paused for a brief
second. Rubbing my outer thigh through the clothes I hadn’t bothered to
change out of last night, he stared at the carpet as I stretched my legs over his
lap.
 “He said that my mom would’ve been the love of his life if he could feel
it. That he felt like something was missing, fundamentally not there, the
moment he laid eyes on her. He told me that he hated himself for a long time
because he couldn’t love her even though she knew he was . . . off. If he
could have a light in his life, she would’ve been it.” Mateo’s tone dipped
sadly, and I held my breath even as he inhaled deeply, his heart pounded
harder but steadily against my cheek. “I take really strongly after her. That’s
why my dad has such a soft spot for me. At the hospital, my dad told me in
his own way that he was proud of me, and that he had a lot of pride in himself
because of how I turned out. Despite all the shameful things I did, and how I
constantly fucked up. The thing is, though, my dad doesn’t have the capacity
to even like me, but he always made me feel like I was his son and I
mattered.”
“Mateo . . . ” His palm was warm and dry against my face, and he
thumbed my cheekbone absently as my heart ached for him. He exhaled a
shuddering breath, and my mouth dried as anticipation seeped through my
skin. “I don’t really know where this is going—”
“Your parents’ behavior isn’t a reflection of who you are, Lucy. It’s their
reflection of their own lives. It’s got no bearing on us. Your mom treats you
that way when she has the capacity to be different, and my dad treats me that
way when he can’t . . . not won’t . . . can’t.” My cheek twitched at that, and I
inhaled a quick breath as Mateo quieted. The silence was heavy but not
drowning, and I contemplated his story as it circled behind my eyes. He was
right— my mom made the choice to treat me the way she had. I was her only
child, but she deliberately chose to make me miserable for reasons I didn’t
particularly care about.
But I didn’t want to know those reasons. I never wanted to be unhappy
because of her again.
25

Mateo
“So, the realtor said she’d be here at noon- and it’s noon.” Lucy’s drawl
tugged up the corners of my mouth, and she flopped her head back to gaze at
me. Gingerly gathering up her hair, running my fingers through the strands, I
smiled full on when she puffed out her lips in a pout. “If she’s not here in
fifteen minutes, let’s go look through the windows and poke around. I
haven’t ever been on that side of the road. There was no reason to be.”
“You’re cute.” Her eyes widened, and she tinged pink to her ears before
she lifted her head to hide her face. Chuckling lowly, warmth suffused my
torso and swept down my arms, and I massaged her scalp and down to her
shoulders. Lucy shuffled a little between my legs, her plump, tight ass
rubbing faintly against my crotch, and I bit down on my bottom lip. We sat
on the pathway leading straight up from the road, waiting for this realtor, who
apparently didn’t know that being fifteen minutes early was polite.
Now that we weren’t in mortal danger or embroiled in catastrophic
drama, I’d started to notice how soft Lucy’s skin was- how beautifully it
shined with the tan she’d gotten in Hawaii. Her size eight waist and long legs
tantalized me, and I dragged my palms down her sides. Our kiss in paradise
tingled my lips, and her faint gasp was overly loud in my ears as I caressed
her abdomen under her bunched up, dark red camisole.
“You’re beautiful.” Brushing my lips against her neck, I peeked over her
shoulder shamelessly as Lucy inhaled a whistle. “I never told you that, did
I?”
“You were kinda busy passing out from the pain.” Humming softly at the
breathless reply, I pulled Lucy’s long hair out of the way, and she tilted her
head to catch my eye. “Are you still in pain? Does your back hurt?”
My brows rose in surprise, and Lucy pursed her lips thinly as my own
parted. Slowly shaking my head as my words failed, I clenched my jaw as I
sluggishly rolled my shoulders and arched my back. My brain worked hard to
figure out when the last time my back hurt. It must’ve been at the beach right
before I went back to the hotel.
“I didn’t even notice, but . . . it doesn’t. No, I’m not.” Her eyes were so
bright, and I cupped Lucy’s cheek to stroke her cheekbone as my heart
throbbed sharply against my ribs. Turning into my palm, her lids fluttered
closed, and she sunk into my embrace as I pressed my forehead against her
temple.
Our of the corner of my eye, a car slowed as it reached the large house
across the street, and our moment had to come to an end. Standing up, Lucy
weaved her fingers between mine, and the sweetest smile puffed out her
cheeks. I just wanted to kiss her, but it’d have to wait until we had time.
Lots and lots of time.
“Let’s go.” This house was the only one on Lucy’s street, but there were a
few in the neighborhood that were listed for sale. We walked across the street
hand in hand, and I sincerely hoped I liked the place as I eyed it warily. The
exterior was wrapped in beige, the front yard was rather big and partially
fenced in along the sidewalk. There was a two-car garage, and the realtor
lady had swung into the driveway to idle briefly.
The middle-aged woman that stepped out of the car was clearly in a bit of
a tizzy, but she paused when she looked at us for the first time. Her power
suit and well-styled hair gave her a sense of business pride, and I let go of
Lucy’s hand to stick mine out while she visibly stopped herself from
frowning.
“Mateo Turnin. We spoke on the phone.” I could see it all over her face
that she thought she was going to end up wasting her time, which, I was
going to buy a house. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me on such short
notice.”
“It’s no problem. I had a free slot.” She gave me a pathetic handshake,
and I nodded while I waited for her to introduce herself. Instead, she sort of
huffed a little as she started digging in her purse, and I stepped back to wrap
my arm around Lucy’s waist. “So, as it mentioned in the listing, this house
has only been on the market for four and a half months. The owners pay for
someone to come by once a month and clean. It’s a four-bed, two-point-five-
bath, with three rooms on the second floor and the master on the first floor,
with an en-suite bathroom.”
Lucy and I shared a quizzical look when this lady shuffled up the
walkway that led to the stooped porch, her keys jingling loudly. Shrugging
slightly, I kept my mouth shut. She probably didn’t put much stock in
younger people looking to buy.
When the realtor opened the front door, she gestured us in behind her
with a flick of her wrist, and I loosened my grip on Lucy. The living room
was rather large and carpeted, with neutral walls and nothing separating it
from the kitchen but the change to tile. A huge, ten-burner range took over a
good chunk of the kitchen, and there was an island with a sink, which I
appreciated, that added to the ton of counter space.
“Is this your first home together?” The realtor didn’t seem surprised when
I nodded, still looking around, and she clasped her hands over her navy skirt
to continue talking. “Well, the neighborhood is good- there’s not a lot of
crime going on, and it’s very quiet. Thankfully, there’s no HOA to have to
contend with, either. There’s a public bus stop on the corner right across the
street, and there’s a few little stores right down the road.”
The living room was faced with a wall of glass that led to the backyard,
and the realtor gestured us to follow her again. Sharing an irritated look with
Lucy at how clearly she was trying to rush, I clenched and released my jaw
while the woman opened the sliding glass door to a sizeable deck. The deck
had to be at least three hundred fifty square feet, with a wide staircase
leading to a yard of impressively green grass.
“This deck is probably the size of my efficiency. Maybe a little bigger.”
The realtor turned to me at my declaration, and for a fraction of a second, I
felt the absolute contempt she had for me. How dare I have the audacity to
look at a house when, obviously, I was too young and poor to afford it! I
leveled my stare with her as she hid her feelings behind a polite, professional
smile, and she nodded before opening her mouth.
“The previous owners had a rather large family and enjoyed having
people over. This is a great house for social gatherings. Let’s go inside and
take a look at the bedroom and master bath.” Just because of the yard, I
wanted to buy this house— Ketchup and Sriracha would love this place.
Instead, I gestured Lucy back in as she shot me a glance glimmering in
impressed approval. “There’s another full bath upstairs and a half bath off the
hallway to the garage right next to the laundry room.”
I don’t know why . . . did this woman think we were just wasting her
time? Did people book with her and then tell her to her face that they weren’t
buying, just wanting to look? Did she have a bad morning? Was her coffee
decaf instead of regular or something? She didn’t glance a second time at the
master bedroom, didn’t stop even as Lucy and I hung around another set of
sliding, wooden doors.
“That’s cool that they’re double sliding doors. We’re gonna have to paint
them, probably. They’re not even stained.” Lucy’s murmur drew down my
chin, and I glanced over the bedroom; it was just four walls, and the carpet
was the color of her dog with cream accents.
“So, the previous owners actually used this as a guest room as they have
small children. The bathroom was completely remodeled.” Lucy wandered
off toward the door in the corner, and I made my way to the other side of the
room to open another. The closet was clearly for a woman that liked shoes
and jewelry, judging by all the shelves and slots, and my cheek twitched
absently.
I really liked this house.
“Mateo, there’s a spa tub in here. How cool is that?”
“There’s just a shower in the upstairs bathroom. So, would you like to
keep looking around, or . . . ” I just hate this realtor. She hasn’t even shown
us half the house, yet. I had to resist sucking my teeth at how irritated I was,
and I turned to this lady as she watched me with expectant annoyance. “I do
have other buyers for this house that are interested, and—”
“You didn’t show us the upstairs, the basement, or the garage, and we
haven’t talked price, but you’re trying to shoo us out?” I had decided last
night that even if this house wasn’t perfect, which it was, frankly, I would
consider it my top option. Crossing my arms when the realtor frowned at me,
I rocked back on my heels to arch a brow in question. “Why are you trying to
rush us out and lose yourself a sale?”
“Because I have other buyers that are ready to bid on the house.” Barking
a harsh laugh, I reached to swipe my jaw roughly, and she looked down her
nose at me across the bedroom. “No offense, but—”
“No offense, but? Please.” I fished my phone out of my pocket to call my
last outgoing, which happened to be her office. Lucy wandered out of the
bathroom, and I clenched and released my jaw as I strode out of the bedroom
with her. The line rang once, twice, before being answered, and the hairs on
my neck bristled at her withering glare as I turned to face her. “Yes, hello.
I’m with one of your agents right now, and I was wondering, if I paid full in
cash, can I deal with someone else?”
26

Lucy
“She looked so panicked when you said, ‘full in cash’. Oh, man.” I chuckled
a little as we entered the hotel Mateo was staying at, but he was still
obviously upset about the whole ordeal. His gloominess tugged at me, and I
squeezed his hand as we headed for the elevator. “It’s okay. You’re going to
buy the house, and she won’t get commission. Win-win, right?”
“I honestly don’t understand what she was thinking?” His confusion was
adorable, and I punched the button as he reached into his back pocket to pull
out his wallet with his free hand. “I’m pretty damn sure people don’t go
house browsing and then get lied to about the availability of the house. What
the fuck?”
“She probably thought we weren’t serious, or we’d have a hard time with
the down payment, which she wouldn’t get much commission off of.” That
only prompted another question— who the heck looks at houses for fun?
Mateo grumbled to himself. “That senior agent was really nice, though.”
“Yeah, at least that went well. I really like that house.” Mateo cast me a
tender glance, and I smiled as heat slithered up my neck. “I hope we don’t
break up over curtain rods.”
“I think we can handle it.” We stepped into the elevator, and he thumbed
his floor button before pulling his key card out of his wallet. Today was a
good day despite all the drama that happened the night before; it felt like a
long, long time ago, and that was a good thing, I thought. “My granddad
bought my house when my mom got divorced. I guess he just knew I’d be his
only grandkid. He worked on it until I turned sixteen- we worked on it
together, sorta. I was living there when I was fifteen because my mom was
starting to get insufferable. The day I turned sixteen, I started at the grocery
store, and I worked there until I quit right after I got back. When I went to get
my final check, they threw me a little party. It was really nice.”
“You have an associate business degree, don’t you?” Nodding firmly as
the elevator jostled upwards, I stuck my hands in my pockets and rocked
back on my heels. “I went to school for music. I have two bachelors. I
worked on them simultaneously. My dad was really supportive, and Oran and
Carlyle were already out of college and working for him.”
“Have you done anything musically since . . . ” Trailing off uncertainly, I
couldn’t help but frown when Mateo shook his head. “Why not?”
“It’s kinda trivial, but even though I’ve always had genuine talent for it,
and I love it, I was a spoiled rich kid that didn’t appreciate anything or
anyone. Everyone was beneath me, except Carlyle, and he thought I wasn’t
anything more than a cockroach that needed to be squished. It wasn’t until
that week that I realized there’s more people’s opinions than just his that
matter. I’ve gone into shops and stuff, but I never bought anything.” He
frowned under brows furrowed by troubling thoughts, and I almost winced at
the thick shame that lilted his tone. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I
never invested in my music because I was so miserable about problems, I
created for myself. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.” The elevator jolted to a stop, and Mateo gestured me out first
before leading me down the ritzy hallway. “Every economic class has their
own set of problems. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you to try with
Carlyle, Mateo.”
“I mean, it’s not entirely his fault. I was a piece of shit of a human being,
but there’s definitely things that we both could’ve done even if it was just
ignoring each other. Carlyle kept trying to get me out of the way, but that also
meant him forcing me to go places and do shit that I didn’t want to participate
in. Maybe, if he accepted that trying to force it would only make it worse,
and I accepted that he couldn’t do anything without forcing it. Honestly, who
knows. I sure don’t.” Sliding the card in a door, Mateo popped open the
barrier, and I followed him in as he continued. His hotel room was sparse,
just his bag and his dogs, and he only paused talking to grab it before
glancing at me. “If I didn’t decide to leave the hotel rather than jump off the
roof, Carlyle wouldn’t bat an eyelash. And that is not someone I think
deserves my consideration.”
I badly hid my grimace, and Mateo whistled to his dogs before we left the
room just as quickly. My chest tightened, my throat closing at the idea that
we could’ve never met. If he’d killed himself, I would’ve never known what
it was like to love someone so passionately. Seth and I probably would be
married right now, and I’d be miserable.
Because let’s face it, I was totally, unequivocally, desperately head over
heels for Mateo, even if neither of us wanted to admit it out loud in as many
words.
 “I’ve never thought about killing myself. Running away, yeah. A few
times, I considered selling my house and hiding.” The strangest sense of guilt
washed over me, and I crossed my arms under my best on the way back to the
elevator. Mateo lived a horrific life, but because he had money, no one would
pity him. How terrible. “Once I moved into my house, my mom would come
over three or four times a week and come in and rearrange all my stuff and
take down my cringy band posters and all that kind of stuff. I changed the
locks and never gave her a key again.”
“You had to deal with Meredith all the time?” Scrunching up my nose in
distaste, I ducked my head in a nod, and Mateo shouldered his backpack as I
pressed the elevator button. “How’d you do that for so long? Was she always
so overbearing?”
“No. She didn’t get bad until after she found out about breaking up when
we were in college. I don’t get why. Shouldn’t she be doing the opposite and
telling him he could get better or whatever?” Shrugging lightly, I huffed at
my own question, and Mateo nodded quietly as he reached to scratch
Ketchup’s head. “I mean, there was nothing special about me, and Seth and I
didn’t want to be together anymore, so . . . ”
“Maybe, she thought you looked perfect together.” Arching a brow
quizzically, I pursed my lips at that, but Mateo’s expression didn’t change
even as his eyes narrowed on me. “Appearances count for a lot for some
people, and you and Seth did look good together. You’re beautiful, and she
could go around telling anyone anything she wanted, and those people would
probably never get within ten feet of you. Maybe, it was simple vanity and
narcissism— look at my successful lawyer son and his gorgeous wife.”
“Wow, I never thought of it that way, but maybe you’re right.” Was
Meredith so concerned with looks that actual happiness didn’t matter?
“Considering she made herself look better than me at my wedding to her son,
you probably are right, Mateo. That’s probably exactly it.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll never let anyone know you said that.” Smiling at the
jibe, I chuffed lightly, and Mateo stuffed his wallet back in his back pocket to
wrap his arm around me.
In a flash, we were back in the Lyft he’d ordered, and we left the hotel
behind with all of us crammed in the back seat. The driver pulled off the
curb, and Sriracha sat on Mateo’s lap while Ketchup took over mine. Leaning
my head on his shoulder, I enjoyed the almost catatonic happiness that
flooded every cell in my body.
 And, hopefully, it’d be this way all the time from now on. Surely, we’d
have to deal with the fallout once Meredith gets released, if she hasn’t been
already. Seth had mentioned something before leaving about going home and
sleeping, and then heading to the police station to bail his mother out.
“I really should buy a car- maybe an SUV, so I can fit all the dogs in it.
Once the check clears and I get the house transferred, we’ll do that.”
Humming softly in acknowledgment, my mind went to earlier at the real
estate office. The senior guy that Mateo had talked to on the phone practically
fell over himself with apologies and gave us the lowest the owners were
willing to go. He had to call them and get them down here to do the transfer
once the check cleared, but all the paperwork had been done. By Monday,
Mateo would own the house across the street from me.
The notion was strange, like my house was a she-shed or something
stupid by comparison. Not big enough for everyone, my home was just going
to be my space, and Mateo would have his space, and we would have our
space. We didn’t talk about it, but I knew that’s what he thought the moment
I bought it up. There were other houses in the area, but that one . . . I knew he
really liked it.
27

Lucy
“I don’t know, Mickey. This seems like overkill.” Mikayla stuck a box of
condoms into my cart with a soft hmpf, and I frowned as I snatched it and put
it back on the shelf. “Seriously, stop. I’m not gonna guess his size and risk
getting it wrong, okay? What makes you think we’re gonna have sex,
anyway?”
“You’re sleeping over— of course, you’re going to bang. Okay, it’s been
a week since he got his own place, and you two don’t have any more excuses
not to.” Rolling my eyes, I trudged my butt toward the tampons as my best
friend trailed along after me, dragging her feet dramatically. “Lucy-y-y, come
on. It’s almost like you two aren’t physically attracted to each other. You just
are, like, soul mates in the head or whatever.”
“That makes no sense.” If I can make it to shampoo and deodorant, we
can leave. “Is it so impossible that sex isn’t the main pillar of our
relationship?”
“Yes!” Wincing as she hissed in my ear like a snake, I shook my head
roughly, and Mikayla flounced around my cart as we turned into the
mouthwash aisle. “It is! I know that you two have been through some stuff,
okay, but honestly, the guy’s hotter than hot, and you haven’t even kissed
him.”
“I did so!” We were trying to keep it down, but the store was absolutely
dead at this time of morning; no one was around but employees, and they
didn’t care at all. “God, Mickey, you’re making it like we’re sixteen again.”
“Your physical contact with him makes you seem like you’re sixteen
again. It’s like you’re . . . ” She finally shut up, and Mikayla’s face twisted
into cautious concern, but I ignored it to grab a bottle off the shelf. “Are you
afraid, Lucy?”
“What?” I dropped the blue bottle as surprise jolted through my veins, but
the thick plastic stopped it from exploding when it landed right smack on the
floor. My head whipped up, and Mikayla frowned as she licked her lips
heavily. “Why would I be afraid?”
“Because, you know, his back. I know that you feel guilty about it, and
that you haven’t seen it, yet. It’s not easy to look at, Lucy.” My eyes
widened, and Mikayla’s tone lowered as she shuffled along the length of my
half-full cart. She was right— Mikayla did see Mateo’s back, and I hadn’t. I
wasn’t afraid to see it, and I was not guilty, and I bent down slowly to grab
the bottle of mouthwash and toss it in the cart.
“You’re looking too deep into it, Mikayla. Mateo and I haven’t screwed
around yet because, hello, there are more important things than sex, damnit!
And you’re right- there’s no excuses because they weren’t excuses in the first
place. Believe it or not, but I’m more than capable of managing my
relationship without my sex life being micromanaged!” I trembled with anger
as my voice rose higher and louder, and Mikayla stepped back as I smacked
the handlebar of the cart. “And for the record, I know what Mateo’s back
looks like. I was there when it got like that! I don’t need you to try to tell me
it’s ‘not easy to look at’ now! Fuck!”
Blurting out the slur, I stormed down the aisle and left Mikayla at the
other end, and my face burned. What the Hell was wrong with her? Did she
forget that I was literally inches away from that whip every time it flayed
open Mateo’s skin? What did she think I did when he was passed out for
hours at a time? Turning my cart with a wretched screech, I snatched a three-
pack bars of soap off the shelf and kept on stomping to the shampoo aisle.
Mikayla had no right to be judgmental about Mateo and I being a little
less than frisky. That went without saying. She didn’t understand what we’d
been through, so who was she to comment on Mateo’s back.
Really, the shame here was that Mikayla was my ride home, and we were
communal shopping— or, at least, we were supposed to be. All she could talk
about was Mateo inviting me over tonight, and that in itself wasn’t the issue.
The problem was she didn’t stop when I asked her to, and then she really,
truly, asked me if I was afraid of because Mateo’s back was all mangled.
I knew what it looked like. More importantly, I knew that it was supposed
to be on me, not him.
I turned into the shampoo aisle and kept turning my cart until it slammed
into the rack, and my lungs screamed for air. When was the last time I
breathed? I didn’t know, and the whole shelf tipped dangerously back and
forth with an ominous clatter. Bottles fell off shelves and exploded, and
black spots assaulted my vision as my knees gave out from beneath me.
It was supposed to be me.
Blinking hard, I wheezed pathetic, useless rasps, and my heart pounded
dangerously as I struggled to get ahold of myself. Squeezing my eyes shut, I
held my chest to keep my heart from busting through my ribs and craned my
neck in an effort to breathe. All I saw behind my eyes was Mateo’s back, his
skin hanging off in strips, and the phantom scent of blood and concrete
coated the inside of my nose.
Why was everyone so judgmental? Even when everything was perfect,
people still had terrible things to say? Mikayla wasn’t trying to be mean, but
she didn’t just accept the fact that she couldn’t understand, either. Her
opinions mattered to me, but there was a time when she needed to know not
to voice them.
Laying down on the floor, I gulped down the dense lump in my throat and
gasped for breath, and shivers raked my spine violently. My mind didn’t slow
down even as my heart stabilized, and I cracked my eyes open to find bleary
figures standing over me. Somehow, I managed to push myself to my feet,
and I ran my hands up my teary face and into my hair.
“Get off me! Don’t touch me!” Snapping viciously at the multitude of
people trying to grab at me, I stumbled a little at the force of my own voice.
Heaving shallow breaths, I grabbed my cart as the employees held their hands
up, all women, all worried but not pushing me. Two men stood at the lip of
the aisle, and I shoved my cart down to start grabbing open bottles of
shampoo and throwing them into the bed.
I could feel Mikayla staring at me, and my lip curled in a snarl as I got
down to scrape splattered shampoo off the linoleum. Goosebumps blanketed
my arms and under my tank top, and my jeans felt too tight as my body
gorged on a cacophony of raging emotions.
Realization struck me— I didn’t have anywhere to put this goop, and I
glanced around through wide, dazed eyes. I only had a wallet, not a purse,
and my hands tingled as I started stuffing jean pockets with shampoo. There
wasn’t a lot, only a few bottles burst, not even half a dozen, and the
splattering hadn’t been too bad.
God, there were a lot of quarter-sized pools of shampoo, and I had to lay
down to reach under the shelves to get the dime-sized ones with my nails.
Dirt and other crap that was swept under the rack clung to my fingernails and
palms, and my stomach heaved threateningly.
Once again, I hoisted myself up onto my feet, holding my hands out for
balance so I didn’t accidentally touch my clothes or face. Shampoo seeped
through my pockets and out the top, and I rubbed my hands viciously on my
jeans. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the employees hovering, and
she tensed when I turned to her.
“Where’s the bathroom?” Rasping my question, I spread my fingers wide
by my sides, and she just looked to this older woman near the lip of the aisle.
She gestured me over with a small wave, and my body moved before my
brain caught up with it. Everything spun around me, and I doubled over to
gag viciously. My lunch came spewing out of my mouth, and horrified
squeals droned in my ear as if they were coming through a tunnel.
Gripping the shelf to my right, I arched sharply as my stomach turned
inside out, and bile burned my throat. Weakness assaulted every muscle in
my body, and my head became light as I spit on the floor. Groaning hoarsely,
I blinked hard and stepped around my mess to trudge over to the lady.
“I’ll . . . I’ll clean th-that.”
28

Mateo
Sriracha huffed and puffed a few seconds before the doorbell sung, and I tore
myself away from the stove to walk to the front door. Lucy was earlier than I
expected, which was still an hour before the time we set- but I honestly didn’t
mind. Cracking open the barrier, I smiled at her, and she grinned outright
before stepping through the threshold.
“It smells nice in here.” Affection bombarded my chest and crowded my
heart at the excitement lightening Lucy’s tone. Shutting us inside my house, I
wrapped my arms around her waist to draw her to me, and she sighed softly.
“I know I’m super early. I had . . . I guess I had an . . . an episode . . . at the
store.”
“An episode? What happened?” At the sound of Lucy’s voice, Ketchup
came bounding into the house from the open back door, but I barely noticed
the flash of gray. She didn’t answer immediately, instead heading into the
kitchen to sit on one of the stools she’d picked out at the island. Her hair was
slightly darker, slightly damp, and my brows furrowed in concern when she
rested her cheek on the tiled surface.
“Mikayla said your back isn’t easy to look at . . . and I just sort of
imploded, I guess.” Stiffening at her murmur, I paused across from her on the
way to the stove, and she slumped a little. “She was goofing around about me
sleeping over, and sex, and whatever, and then she asked me if I was afraid
because we’re not really physical.”
Disbelief numbed my face, and the smell of chicken parm stung my
tongue as it stuck to the roof of my mouth. Lucy sort of grimaced in
discomfort, and blood drummed loudly in my ears before she opened her
mouth again.
“I accidentally pushed my cart into the shampoo, and . . . I don’t know
what happened. I started wiping the shampoo off the floor with my hands and
shoving it in my pockets. Then, I threw up everywhere. I’m honestly
surprised no one called 9-1-1.” Clenching my jaw hard, I shuffled to the stove
to stare at the water droplets streaming down the glass lid. “The ride home
was super awkward. She drove me there, and I didn’t want to get a Lyft and
put all my stuff in and then take it all out and put it all away.”
“I have no idea how to react to that. Has this happened before?” Glancing
over my shoulder to watch her shake her head, my eyelid twitched in
agitation, and the scars on my back pulled tight when I inhaled deeply. “Is it
about the sex, or my back, or that she was judging you on something she
didn’t understand?”
“All of it? When I told her to stop talking about it, she didn’t. I don’t
know. She just pushed and pushed, and then told me I felt guilty and asked if
I was afraid, and I just . . . snapped. I’m not guilty, and I’m not afraid, and
frankly, I wouldn’t say ‘excited’ is a good word. Or ‘eager’.” I exhaled
slowly as I quietly, descended on the kitchen, and I pulled the top off the pan
to get blasted with heat and the smell of chicken and cheese and sauce. It
didn’t distract me, but I knew that was a disservice to Lucy, and she rested
her chin on her forearms when I looked back. “That smells really good.”
“Hopefully, it will be.” It hurt to talk. My jaw hurt, my whole face hurt
from the tension that gripped my bones. “I didn’t invite you over for sex,
Lucy.”
“I know.” That simple answer was followed by one she didn’t say— but
we’re going to, anyway. The whole point of tonight was romance; I made one
of the only things I knew how to make without burning Which was ironically
an Italian dish. I had some moderately expensive wine, again, and Italian
wine, and a box of condoms.
Hell, I even did the whole flower petal thing at the top of the stairs. I
spent a few days hashing out the details of tonight, and it’d been terrorized
before it even started.
“What about you, Mateo? How’s the dogs liking the backyard?” The
cheese wasn’t even melted, yet, and I put the lid back on the pan to turn to
Lucy. She wore a little, pale purple dress with capped shoulders, and thin
lines of charcoal accentuated her big, blue eyes. Sitting up to stretch her arms
along the island, she flipped her curls against her back with a jerk of her
head, and I walked over to lean on my forearms on the tiles.
“Ketchup won’t come back inside, and Sriracha won’t leave the doorway
because it’s open. I think he likes the breeze.” She smiled as she looked that
way, and I reached to caress the back of her hand gingerly. Honestly, I was at
a loss, and the silence was only breached by the muted sizzling in the pan
behind us. Lucy tangled our fingers between my own, and I clenched my jaw
against the stiffness burrowed deep between my shoulder blades. “Do you
want to eat out back?”
Those big, blue eyes met mine to brighten in interest, and my mouth dried
at how beautiful Lucy is. I couldn’t stop myself- couldn’t even process it as I
grabbed her face and kissed her, and her little squeak of surprise clogged my
throat. Long, nimble fingers tangled in my hair, and I cupped the back of her
head as I shuffled closer. Her soft lips parted for me as heat rampaged
through my chest, and a cold sweat broke out under my shirt.
Long legs wrapped around my waist to draw me closer, and my heart
fluttered as I snuck my tongue past Lucy’s teeth. Her own touched mine
tentatively, but the passion in our kiss blew all hesitancy away. Picking her
up off the stool, I pinned her to the wall opposite to brace my forearm above
her head. Our kiss deepened as fire boiled my blood, and Lucy moaned softly
as she wound her arms around my neck to fist my shirt.
Firm, perky breasts squished against my chest when she ripped her head
back to breathe, and I stiffened against the urge to tug her dress down.
Panting harshly, my heartbeat furiously, in sync with hers, and Lucy’s
flushed face and bright eyes were beyond the comprehension of mortal men.
Fuck.
“I have a plan.” My rasp tinged her cheeks a darker shade of pink, and
Lucy took a shuddering, unstable breath as her knees tightened against my
sides. Resting my forehead on hers, I closed my eyes to savor her breath
rolling down my collar. Her closeness was comforting- better even than the
knowledge that in a few hours, we’d be even closer. “You’re so beautiful,
Lucy.”
“You’re a wonderful man, Mateo.” The mumble wasn’t much more stable
than mine, and I pressed against Lucy as her fingers slipped up into my hair.
Touching wasn’t close enough, and she gasped faintly to mingle with my hiss
as I ground between her legs. My abdomen tightened, thighs quivering, and
my cock gorged as the shock of our kiss dwindled. Slender fingers pulled my
hair taut, and I sputtered slightly as pleasure gripped my spine in a vice.
“Lucy.” Capturing her thick lips, I shuddered when she moaned, and the
sound filled the thin space between my brain and my skull. Her hips rolled,
thighs clinging to me and heels digging into the small of my back.
Thankfully, they weren’t stabbing stilettoes, just short, wide heels, and I
braced both my arms above her head to stop myself from going any farther.
My tongue tangled with hers, the taste of her tingling my buds, and she
shivered as her hips tilted into mine.
 “Mateo. Mateo.” Tugging my head back to rasp hoarsely, Lucy’s eyelids
fluttered closed, her lips disappearing between her teeth. My nails dug into
my palms with how hard I clenched my fists, and the air knocked from my
lungs as the full brunt of her beautiful face slammed into me. She tensed,
neck craning, lips parting in a gasp as she arched sharply, and goosebumps
blanketed my body.
I watched her brow rumple ever so faintly when she clenched her jaw and
stiffened, and Lucy sucked in a whistle of a breath. So delicately, she
shivered, and I bit my bottom lip hard when her thighs quivered against my
sides. Holding myself very still, my heartbeat furiously as satisfaction
sloshed in my chest, and she tilted her head to crack open her eyes.
The only thing holding her up was the iron grip of her legs around me,
my hips against hers, and Lucy sighed the most fulfilled sound imaginable.
Her whole body relaxed against me, but her knees didn’t fall from my ribs as
I reached a trembling hand to her cheek. The tremor in my palm rattled up my
arm, and I thumbed under her eye as they flooded with heady warmth. Tilting
her head into my touch, she smiled the smallest, most content smile I’d seen
on her yet, and my heart threatened to stop beating.
“I’d like to eat outside, yeah.” Lucy’s murmur tickled my wrist, and I
nodded mutely as my ragged pants became easier, harsh breaths.
29

Lucy
Giggling as I lifted my wine glass to my lips, I took a small sip, and Mateo
smiled broadly. His deep, brown eyes glimmered in the evening sun, a faint
breeze rustling his ear-length locks, and I set my glass down to lean my head
on his shoulder. Gazing out at the dogs wrestling over a huge rope toy, I
practically burst with happiness while he caressed up and down my back.
I didn’t want to drink too much. One glass of wine was more than
enough.
“My mom refused to talk to me about sex. There was a point where she
refused to talk to me at all.” Scrunching up my nose in disdain, I inhaled
deeply, and Mateo grunted softly in acknowledgment. “I haven’t heard from
her since we got back. I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or not.”
“It’s a good thing until it’s not, and then we’ll work through it.” My heart
fluttered at Mateo’s murmur, and he squeezed me to his side to sigh softly.
Gently, he took my hand to kiss my fingertips, and my breath hitched when
he met my eyes firmly. Suddenly, I felt like I was fourteen again when his
other hand cupped the back of my head, and goosebumps washed over my
bare arms and down my legs. His face drew closer, and my lids fluttered
closed in expectation just before his lips brushed mine.
So unlike our intense, spontaneous make out sessions before in the
kitchen, this kiss was slow, tentative, and my fingers flexed to curl around his
palm. Mateo’s lips were soft, his clean-shaven chin smooth against mine, and
he inched a little closer. His heat slithered along my skin, and delicious
shivers raced down my spine. Reaching my free hand to his cheek, I sighed
when he pulled back and licked my lips, savoring his taste in the darkness
behind my eyelids.
“Let’s go inside.” My mumble tightened his grip on my fingers, and I
cracked my eyes open before we stood up. Tingles shot down my legs, and
Mateo tangled our fingers together as we left the wine and the empty plates
behind on the porch. There wasn’t any furniture in the living room, but I
knew he had had something delivered. Urging me up the stairs first, we
walked in silence, and my gasp was overly loud above the blood drumming
in my ears.
There were little, purple petals on the landing, and I paused as shock
stalled my brain. Mateo really went all out for tonight, and he wrapped his
arms around me to hold both my hands against my abdomen. Nudging me the
last four steps, his breath tickled my neck, and I bit my bottom lip when he
smiled against my skin.
The petals stood out on the beige carpet, and I followed them to the last
bedroom on the left side of the stairs. Pushing open the door, already slightly
ajar, the rose-tinted hue in my vision deepened as my lips parted in
admiration. There was a beautiful, four-poster canopy bed in the middle of
the room, complete with drapes. Sheer drapes! Soft colors, like cream and
more purple and shades of light blue flittered delicately down.
“This is a good plan. I like this plan. It’s gorgeous, Mateo.” Shuffling
around me, Mateo downright grinned as my heart grew too full to contain. He
hooked his arms under my leg and around my back, and I giggled when he
swept me off my feet. Kicking off my heels, I threaded my fingers through
his hair as he sauntered toward the bed. “You set all this up for me? I really
needed it.”
“I just have great timing, don’t I?” Humming in agreement, I tightened
my hold when Mateo’s hands left my back, and he pushed open the sheer
curtain. Climbing onto his knees on the bed, he plopped me right in the
center. The hue in the air made him glitter, almost, as he gazed down at me,
and I reached for him as the ethereality of this moment clung to my ribs like
tar.
“Mateo . . . “ Neither he nor I were virgins, but that’s what it felt like—
the heat of anxiety, the tentativeness, the intense realization that this is going
to change my life. Goosebumps blanketed my skin when Mateo shuffled
between my knees, and my heart throbbed with emotion that stung the backs
of my eyes. He’d worn slacks and a nice button down, and I was in no rush to
take anything off as the coarse fabric caressed my thighs.
“Lucy . . . ” My name was reverence on his tongue, and Mateo kissed me
with all of the passion he could muster and none of the urgency of earlier.
Moaning softly as pleasure skittered down my jaw and neck, and I raised my
arms to get them out of the way. His hard, muscular chest rippled with power,
and he dropped to prop his elbows on either side of my head. Slipping his
tongue past my teeth to tangle with mine, his taste numbed my senses as
pleasure pooled in my abdomen.
 Caressing down my sides, Mateo gently fingered the zipper of my dress,
and I gasped into his mouth. My breasts spilled out when I sucked in a sharp
breath, and goosebumps surged down my chest. His lips lifted from my own
to trail down my chin, and I craned my neck in acceptance.
Bright eyes of melted chocolate met mine, and Mateo kissed hot, open-
mouthed kisses down the valley between my breasts. The friction of his
grinding sent a hard shiver up my spine, and I arched into his mouth with a
gasp. His bulge pressed insistently against my core, and his shoulders rippled
powerfully under his shirt when he tugged my dress down. Blood drummed
in my ears as the soft polyester scraped my skin, and I lifted my butt while he
scored my skin with his teeth.
“Oh.” Mateo sucked my nipple into his mouth as he tossed my dress
away, and my little gasp squeezed from behind the lump in my throat.
Panting softly as pleasure gripped my ribs in a vise, I fisted the sheets above
my head to close my eyes. Hard, familiar hands strafed down my abdomen
and hips, and I inhaled sharply as my lungs burned, only adding to the
barrage.
Tiny shocks skittered along my skin when Mateo hooked his thumbs
under the strap of my thong, and I bit down on my bottom lip as wanton thrill
surged through my veins. Leaving my breasts lonely, he peeled away my
panties to caress my outer thighs and down my legs. My heart pounded hard,
flames licking up my neck, and he threw my thong in the direction of my
dress before I managed to sit up.
Unfastening the buttons of his shirt, one by one, slowly, I panted lightly,
and Mateo cupped my face with both his hands to kiss me. The passion
behind his lips was scorching, and I moaned into his mouth as I palmed the
defined planes of his chest. Shirking his shoulders when his shirt flapped
open, he released my face as I pushed and tugged his shirt off completely.
Wrapping his arm around my waist, he hoisted me into his lap, and I gasped
as goosebumps swept down my back.
My fingers trembled as I undid the button on his nice jeans, and Mateo
thrust as he balanced on his knees. He hadn’t been wearing shoes or socks,
and I reached into his pants to palm his hard, hot rod. Prickles rattled up my
arm, and he sucked in a sharp breath as his tongue paused its dance against
mine. Pumping his cock as he pushed down his pants with his free hand, he
groaned into my mouth, and my core clenched tightly.
“Fuck, Lucy.” Shuffling around to get out of his jeans, Mateo’s voice
strained as my juices leaked out of me, and I rolled my hips with a moan of
my own. Pleasure invaded every cell in my body, and he released me to rifle
around his jean pockets. The faint crinkle of the condom wrapper barely rose
above the need pounding behind my eyes, and he wrapped his hands around
mine to roll the latex down his shaft.
“Make love to me.” Mateo gripped my hips as I flung my arms around his
neck, and our kiss deepened. My abdomen throbbed with need, and he pulled
back to poise between my seeping folds. Thrusting to coat himself, to ease
the friction, my entrance ached with anticipation, and I balanced on the very
tips of my knees.
The bulbous head of his cock stretched my entrance, and our kiss paused
as the whole world came to a standstill. Even my blood stopped pumping
through my veins as Mateo’s tongue stuck to mine, and he thrust into me in
one, easy movement. The air knocked from my lungs, and I arched sharply as
his nails dug into my flesh. Powerful sinew pulled taut against my breasts,
and his heartbeat furiously against my ribs to match my own. Every last drop
of strength in him reverberated through me, and I clamped down on his cock
as euphoria rampaged through me.
“Lucy . . . ” Murmuring my name into my mouth, Mateo’s hand flew to
the back of my head, and he pulled back as the pressure mounted behind my
shuttered lids. “Lucy. Lucy.”
His shaft stretched my walls as they undulated wildly, and his mouth
ravaged mine as he repeated my name over and over again. Tangling my
fingers in his hair, I melted into his chest from the heat, the beautiful friction
of his chest grinding against mine. My nipples throbbed, rubbed raw from his
light coating of chest hair, and his faint abs flexed against my abdomen when
he thrust up. Filling my channel, his cock sent spasms of ecstasy down my
thighs, and I moaned softly as I came undone.
The pulsing veins wrapping his cock beneath the latex beat against my
walls, and I surrendered to the rapture. Mateo thrust slow and deep, his kiss
seating my lips and the fire of us dampening my skin. When I cracked open
my eyes, my vision was washed in such gentle, soft colors, and I shivered
when our lips parted. Ducking into my neck, Mateo breathed ragged breaths
as I struggled even that, and I hugged him tightly. His smell mingled with
mine to coat my brain thickly, and his sputtering gasps and soft, high moans
were faint in my ears.
I squeezed my eyes shut as a whimper lodged in my throat, and Mateo
tightened his grip on my hips to push them down. His cock throbbed wildly,
his sputtering breaths rolling down my shoulder blade and drying the sweat
beading down my back.
“Oh, fuck, Lucy!” We were so close in every imaginable way, and I
tensed when Mateo groaned my name gutturally. Pleasure roared in my ears,
stole my senses, and I trembled wildly as we came together. His hips clung to
mine, his muscles bunching up as he stammered breathlessly, and I undulated
wildly around his shaft. My ears rang, my head heavy, and I forgot to breathe
as I reveled in this beautiful moment.
30

Mateo
“Does it bother you?” Lying face down on the bed, I inhaled a ragged breath
through my nose, and Lucy leaned down to press her cheek against my back.
Soft palms caressed my scars individually, each one brushed with her thumb,
her fingertips smooth. Sitting on my thighs, she laid down to sprawl across
my back, and I cracked my eyes open to stare blearily through the curtain.
“Lucy?”
“I’m okay. It does bother me.” My chest tightened at the murmur, and she
outlined one of the larger scars on my shoulder blade. The thick lines
quivered and pulled under her touch, but she was very gentle . . . so, so very
gentle. “It bothers me . . . because . . . I remember waking up in that room,
and you were pretty much like ‘whatever, this is fine’, like that comic meme
where the room’s on fire and the dog’s just like . . . ”
She made the meme face against my back. I felt her cheeks puff out
slightly, and Lucy sighed as a chuckle clogged my throat.
“I don’t know why they never hurt me. The fact of the matter is they
could’ve just swept you aside at that point, no problem. But they didn’t.” The
thoughtfulness in her tone was one I shared, and I rubbed my head absently
when she paused. “I mean, what was the point of even grabbing me if they
didn’t do anything?”
“My best guess, they thought they had more time than they got. The
Italian Mafia don’t generally take hostages. They usually just kill the person.
Plus, I’m sure Diamon or whoever didn’t give those guys proper directions,
and they were amateurs. If they had a proper interrogator, it probably
would’ve ended differently. At the time, I knew enough about both sides of
the conflict to know that they were going to try to negotiate with Carlyle and
then kill me. Which is stupid.” My drawl earned me a faint hum, and I
thought back on that time with a fondness blossoming in my chest. “I’m
guessing they thought they hid well enough to have more than just a week.”
“Maybe. I guess we’ll never know for sure.” I didn’t have a response to
that— Lucy was right. Carlyle’s stunt was all over the news even though I
barely paid any attention to it. Now, there wasn’t much of the Italians left,
and I was positive Diamon was rotting away in the basement of Carlyle’s
office building. He didn’t like getting his own hands dirty, my brother.
But who cared about that anymore? Not me. There was no room in my
life for Carlyle.
“The doorbell rang.” Speaking up, Lucy sunk against my back with a
sigh, her soft breasts cushioning my spine. Surprise rose my brows, but I
made no move and hoped that whoever was at the door went away.
Downstairs, the dogs were quiet. I’d trained them not to bark so that if
anyone ever tried to rob me or something, they’d be in for a nasty surprise.
The bell rang again, though, and I groaned as I pushed myself up onto my
arms. Finally, Lucy rolled off me, and I grabbed my jeans to stuff my legs in
but left the fastenings undone. She curled up around a pillow, her hair wild
and a rosy glow on her skin, and I swung my legs over the side of the bed to
stand with a grunt.
“If it’s Mickey, tell her I’ll talk to her when I go home.” Shuffling out of
the room, I took the back staircase down to the kitchen, and Sriracha came
from his spot by the back slider to wedge between my knees. Ketchup
barreled in from the backyard, and I ran my hands up my face and into my
hair to heave a massive breath.
When I opened the door, Lucy’s friend stood on the other side, and I
frowned before silently closing the barrier again. I turned away before I could
see her expression fall, and I clenched my jaw as renewed irritation boiled my
blood.
On my way back upstairs, I glanced at the time on the stove, and my
grimace soured slightly. Who shows up at seven-thirty at night? Behind my
lids, Mikayla’s form flashed, and I rubbed the back of my head confusingly
while the sounds of my dogs playing around chased me up the stairs.
“Come here, Lucy.” Crawling back into bed, I let the issue drop as I
wrapped my arms around her, and Lucy rolled into my embrace leisurely.
Her hair framed her face so beautifully, and she rested her cheek on my arm
as I caressed up and down her side. Big, blue eyes popped open to meet mine,
and my heart palpitated as her long, French-manicured nails crept up my
chest.
“Next time, I’ll bring Marshal over so he can play with your dogs.
Mikayla’s home right now. She’s really upset about what happened at the
store earlier.” Humming softly in acknowledgment, I arched slightly as
Lucy’s fingers creeped up my sternum. The hairs on my chest stood up, and
her eyes twinkled brightly as I folded my arm to draw her mouth to mine.
The taste of her fogged my mind, and I slipped my tongue past her teeth
when she moaned quietly.
Reaching to cup her tight ass, I squeezed as need roiled just under my
skin, and Lucy hiked up her leg over my hip. Her heat rolled off her, and I
savored the taste of her as our tongues danced. Our kiss deepened, and I
pulled her closer as desire seared a path down my abdomen. A little gasp
breached our mouths as I ground against her, and pleasure gripped my spine
in a vice when she shivered in delight.
My jeans became restricting as need gorged my cock, and Lucy’s
nakedness quivered enticingly. Caressing up her back, I palmed her breast as
her own hands reached between us, and I shuffled when she pushed down my
jeans.
Panting when we pulled back, I kicked off my jeans completely, and
warmth flooded my chest at the depths of Lucy’s eyes on me. Ducking to kiss
her neck, I squeezed her breast, and she gasped as she arched into my hand.
The perky globe fit perfectly in my palm, and desire stiffened my cock as her
leg tightened around my waist.
“Mateo . . . ” The way Lucy breathed my name was nirvana, and I
groaned as we ground together like teenagers. I couldn’t stay away from her
plump lips, and she arched into my touch when I tweaked her rosy nipple
gingerly. My cock buried in her folds as she opened his mouth for my tongue,
and my breath hitched when she cupped my face.
Our movements devolved from the obvious, and my cock coated thick
with Lucy’s juices as I thrust to the tilt of her hips. Making out shamelessly,
the heat that weighed down the atmosphere settling on us heavily, and I left
her breast to grab her ass and squeeze. Her little moan clogged my throat, and
my cock throbbed as we reveled in just the feel of each other.
I’m gonna write her a song.
Pulling back to hiss, I shuddered when Lucy gasped to suck the heat from
my skin. Her little moans and whimpers urged me on, and I rolled on top of
her to brace my fists on either side of her head. Both her legs fell open, toes
curling sharply against my calves, and a strangled groan escaped me. My
heart threatened to burst from my chest as she writhed, throwing her head to
the side, and I kissed the furiously beating pulse point she exposed.
Lucy arched off the bed, her thighs clinging to hips as she shivered and
gasped, and her tight expression was mesmerizing. The face she made when
she came was almost enough to get me, and I clenched my jaw hard against
the tingles assaulting my tail bone.
“Shit, Lucy.” Gasping hoarsely, her eyes popped open, and Lucy
sputtered as her nails scraped down my sides. That gnawing need that we’d
ignored for so long rampaged through my veins, only growing more ravenous
when she pushed at my shoulders weakly. When I drew back, holding myself
on quivering arms, it wasn’t far enough, and she struggled to push herself up
from her elbows.
She pulled her legs under her, and my sluggish brain connected the dots-
but not until after Lucy pumped my cock firmly. A sea of gold cascaded
down her back as she hovered over me, and I gathered it up in trembling,
clammy palms while she practically drooled with hunger.
31

Lucy
“You’re so good to me.” Smiling at the gruff grumble as powerful, warm
arms slithered around my waist, I zipped up the package of roast beef while
Mateo kissed my shoulder. “I’d starve without you, Lucy.”
“I made us both a sandwich. I was only making one for myself, but I
thought that wasn’t fair.” He laughed at me, an explosive burst of laughter
that sent spittle flying, and I tilted my head as he squeezed me playfully.
“You deserve a bonus for all your hard work.”
“Oh, thank you. I’m capable of hauling my ass downstairs and making us
a sandwich. Obviously, I didn’t do my job if you can still walk.” My brows
rose at that, and Mateo frowned under furrowed brows as he pulled back,
confusion masking his face. “What?”
“You do know that’s stupid, right? It’s almost four a.m., and we’ve been
lying in bed for an hour. That’s more than enough time to come down.”
“Yes, I do. I have never screwed a woman into being a paraplegic, and
that’s terrifying to think of.” Gasping in surprise, goosebumps swept down
my legs when Mateo smacked my butt playfully. His easy smile, so familiar
and tender, stretched his lips, and his brow eyes sparkled with content.
“Thank you for the sandwich.”
“You’re welcome.” I passed Mateo his sandwich, wrapped in a paper
towel, and he kissed my cheek as he took it. He only had whole grain bread,
which was fine, and I put the roast beef and Swiss cheese back in the
refrigerator before grabbing my own and shuffling to sit at the island. His
shirt bunched up around my hips, and goosebumps washed my legs as my
butt connected with the cold, wooden seat.
“I was thinking of going to find a music store and get some instruments
today.” Pausing as Mateo just casually threw out that declaration, my brows
rose in interest, and he stood across from me to catch my eye firmly. “Do you
want to come?”
“Yeah, definitely.” I answered immediately, and excitement blossomed in
my chest as I took an animated bite of my sandwich. The taste of mustard and
roast beef and cheese pulled a groan from behind my lips, and Mateo smiled,
satisfied, before taking a bite of his own. “So, what instruments can you
play?”
Mumbling around my bite, I slumped a little to hold my cheek on my
palm, and he hummed in recognition. For a moment, I couldn’t taste my own
mouthful as Mateo visibly enjoyed what I’d made him, and warmth suffused
my chest. He chewed slowly, and I forgot to chew at all as I watched him in
the early morning gloom. Only the light on the stove illuminated the kitchen,
and shadows danced on his face before he swallowed.
“Ah, piano, guitar and drums, but I’m actually the best at electric violin. I
went to college for four years for it, so I better be good at it.” He smirked a
little, and I continued chewing even as my heart fluttered at the idea of him
playing such a romantic instrument. “I can play the standard violin pretty
okay, I think.”
“I would love to hear that.” Swallowing my bite, I licked my lips of
mustard while Mateo nodded, and the memory of that brief moment in
Hawaii floated through my mind. “You have a beautiful voice. If you put
yourself out there, you’d be a rock star, easy.”
“Professional music takes way more than I’m willing to put into it. I
could’ve done it, but, eh.” Mateo shrugged, and I smiled as I took a bite out
of my sandwich while he leaned on his elbows. His face twisted in disdain,
and my brows furrowed even as he opened his mouth to continue. “I don’t
like all that attention. Maybe, it was growing up knowing that secrets are
really hard to keep with the spotlight on you constantly. Also, some people
are real jerks that manage to hide it really convincingly, and that’s a lot of
pressure in itself to have a public image.”
“Yeah.” The kitchen descended into a peaceful silence, and I knew just
from the way Mateo spoke that he’d put a lot of effort into deciding whether
or not to go for it. During college, maybe, or even beforehand. Growing up
the way he had, he knew that money for the sake of money was hollow, and
musicians had it rough.
“I like this peace. I don’t want to lose it.” Tender, brown eyes met mine,
and my heart ached as I smiled around my bite. “No one gets lucky like this
often.”
“Once things settle down, it’ll get even better.” His cheeks picked up in a
smile, and I swallowed my bite to sigh in utter bliss. “I’m going to go online
and find a good camera for Seth. I talked to him a few days ago. Apparently,
Meredith went on a rampage about the wedding, but really the only thing you
did was destroy the dress, so he wrote her a check for it and threw it at her
and told her that he hoped thirteen grand was worth him as a son. He even
showed me a video of their fight that his sister took. It was really nice to see
him stick up for himself.”
“Good for him. We can have a housewarming party or something- maybe
next weekend. I like Seth— he’s a great guy.” But as quickly as that affection
infected his tone, Mateo frowned. “Are you going to have a serious talk with
Mikayla about what happened at the store yesterday?”
“If I have to say anything more, I think that speaks in itself. We’ll see
what happens when I go back later.” The truth was, I knew Mikayla was
probably tearing herself to shreds. She acted so bubbly, but she was probably
really worried about me, and people do stupid things when they’re worried
about someone. Sex with Seth had never been meaningful . . . enjoyable, sure,
but not anything more . . . and she knew how important tonight was to me.
We’ve been friends so long, and she’s never seen that side of me. It was a
side I didn’t know I had, and I didn’t like it. Being told off over superficial
stuff, I could handle, but . . .
“I think you two will be fine, Lucy.” Everything was coming together,
slowly but surely. Like this house, I would gradually be filled with wonderful
experiences, and I’d have my family here— the family that proved itself to
me, Seth, and his sisters, and their husbands, and Mikayla. Despite
everything, Mateo wouldn’t keep me from them. He accepted that they were
permanent fixtures in my life despite the engagement and the breakdown.
They were bumps in the road, and he didn’t try to smooth them over for
me. I held on to what I could, and he embraced the beautiful parts and
ignored the rest.
And that was why I loved Mateo. Even when we were stuck in that room,
when he was in terrible agony and suffering, he brought out the beauty in it.