Copyright © 2026 by Missy Walker

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written consent from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover Design: Missy Walker

Editor: Swish Design & Editing

SAVAGE PROTECTOR

ELITE MEN OF LAS VEGAS BOOK #3

MISSY WALKER

To the podcasters and motivational voices who drag me out of bed each morning, you’re responsible for my self inflicted unholy writing schedule and the discipline that keeps me showing up.

1

GRAYSON

It was almost impossible to believe what was happening—sitting down to lunch across from a man who, at one time, was closer to me than a brother but was now a stranger. The best friend I ever had when we were kids. The sort of friend a guy could share his secrets with. I had no idea how many hours we had spent back then playing video games, sitting side by side, able to confess the kind of things it wasn’t so easy to talk about when we weren’t both staring at a television. Back then, we had a lot of things to figure out, the sort of things we were too young to understand, but we had tried to navigate that shit together.

That was then. More than twenty years had passed since those preteen days. Now, I was thanking our server for a glass of iced tea while my childhood best friend accepted his scotch on the rocks. Looking at Dominic Garibaldi now, I could hardly believe he was ever the kid I remembered. There was a hardness to him, something in his eyes and the tight set of his mouth that hinted at a life spent doing the sort of shit we tried so hard to understand back in the day. He had stayed in that life, living the way our fathers had while we sat back and wondered—why they sometimes didn’t come home at night or why sometimes they were bloody or bruised when they did show up. Years of being exposed to that had formed a shell around him.

Then again, there was a shell around me too. Nobody stayed as innocent as they were when they were kids, no matter what line of work they happened to get into. I made my living wrangling freelance security professionals, digging up intel for Las Vegas movers and shakers, and protecting businesses and people who needed help.

Somehow, we’d ended up on opposing sides of the dividing line between good and bad, decent and dishonest. He made a living off human misery. I didn’t have to know the specifics to understand that much.

“You’re looking well,” he told me, nodding in approval. Sunshine made his jet-black hair gleam when he did. “Healthy. You work out?”

The next thing I knew, he would ask me how much I could bench press. “I try to stay active. You?”

“My trainer is a sadist. Still…” he patted a flat stomach, shrugging, “… the results are worth it.”

“I’m sure somebody as busy as you doesn’t have much time to devote to long workouts.” Maybe I was probing a little, or maybe I just wanted him to know I was onto him. Of course I was. I might have left that life behind, but that didn’t mean I was unaware of how things turned out after I said goodbye. He had risen through the ranks of the Garibaldi family, making his bones in the years immediately following my exit. His father’s disappearance had left his small, ragtag crew in need of a leader, and Dominic had picked up the slack.

If there was one thing men like my father and his associates had always appreciated, it was those who could leave their feelings behind and focus solely on what needed to be done. Dominic hadn’t allowed a thirst for vengeance against whoever had caused his dad’s disappearance to get in the way of growing and solidifying what had been put in place.

“From what I understand, you’re a busy man too,” he pointed out, picking up his fork to flake some salmon away from the filet before him. “Which is why I thought of you immediately when this problem reared its head. It’s unusual for me to go into deep detail, especially in public, so you’ll understand if I find it challenging. Opening up, I mean. It has nothing to do with not trusting you.”

“I appreciate that.” Though I doubted he trusted me. I was an outsider and had been for more than a decade.

Sighing, he began, “See, there’s a woman.”

“There always is,” I pointed out with a smirk, which he returned, chuckling softly.

“Yes, and there are always problems, aren’t there?” he asked. “In this case, though, she’s in trouble. It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean?” It was good the way he got to the point. I didn’t want to sit here all through our lunch meeting with the past and present overlapping in such an uncanny way. The broad-shouldered, black-haired man who’d been groomed and polished to within an inch of his life sat opposite me, but I also sat across from a kid who couldn’t seem to get his acne under control or lose the last five pounds of baby fat left behind after puberty hit. A kid with a prominent Adam's apple that bobbed every time he swallowed and who used to plan Dungeons and Dragons campaigns until his seventh-grade crush announced that guys who played D&D were losers. That was all it had taken for him to decide he didn’t like it anymore.

“You know how it is sometimes.” He sighed, picking at his salmon while I did the same with my turkey club. “You do everything you can to keep somebody away from the uglier parts of life, but they insist on learning more than they need to know. That was Scarlet’s problem. Scarlet Bowers,” he added. “One T in the name. She was a blackjack dealer at one of the casinos, and we met there. Lovely girl. Pretty, great personality, nice ass.” He sipped his drink before picking up his fork again. “We had a lot of fun. There’s something about a woman who doesn’t ask for much, you know?”

I understood, at least in theory. Women weren’t exactly a major part of my life. Work tended to steal most of my time, not that I would ever complain about a healthy client list.

“Anyway, she got a little too curious. They always do in the end,” he mused, his voice taking on a dark note. “No matter how much they swear they’ll mind their own business, not ask too many questions, curiosity always ends up fucking everything. That’s what happened here. She overheard too many conversations, she saw too many things she shouldn’t have, and eventually, word got around. She knew too much.”

He slid an almost apologetic look my way. “I hope you understand why I can’t give you much more detail than that. There are certain things you can’t know about my business.”

Yes, because we were on opposite sides now. Not that I would have considered myself some agent of justice or anything like that, and I was no cop, but I had spent more than a decade doing everything I could to be the sort of man my father used to laugh at, pity, even despise at times. He would say things like… “Fucking do-gooders think they’re going to change shit when they’re not. Because they don’t have the first-fucking-clue how the world really works.” He was always the one without a clue, but he never understood that. Neither did I until it was too late.

“I don’t need all the details,” I assured Dominic, noting the exquisite watch he wore and the quiet sense of luxury about him. He was a hell of a lot more refined than either of our fathers ever were, a pair of low-level soldiers in a much bigger organization. They couldn’t have dreamed of the dark gray bespoke suit he wore now. No doubt there was plenty of high-level shit going on around him, and therefore countless opportunities for a bystander to hear something they shouldn’t, especially if that bystander was determined to satisfy her curiosity.

“She ran off after receiving threats,” he explained, releasing a deep breath that seemed to deflate him somewhat. “And I’m worried. You’re probably the only person I would ever admit this to, maybe because we’ve been out of touch for so long. It’s just…” Strain pinched his features almost like he was in pain. “I can’t help but remember Dad disappearing. What if it’s the same thing with Scarlet?”

A lump threatened to lodge itself in my throat at the mention of those dark days when Dominic had spent nights at our house, sitting up until all hours in hopes of his father reaching out. His phone never rang. “So you want me to look for her? Make sure she’s all right?” I asked.

“As far as I know, she is still out there somewhere,” he tells me. “And she must be terrified. I have reason to believe members of another family would use her to get to me. They’re our biggest rivals at the moment, and it’s most likely she would have overheard key information regarding my dealings with them.”

He had a way of making everything sound so official, above board, when we both knew it was anything but. I wondered if he would be more forthcoming if we were alone rather than seated in a restaurant and decided he would not. Silence was golden, always. The less someone revealed, the better for everyone involved.

“Scarlet Bowers. Blackjack dealer.” I made a note of this, along with getting a physical description of her—medium height, sandy blonde hair, hazel eyes that leaned more toward green than brown.

“Here. I do have a photo of her.” He pulled it up on his phone and placed it on the table for me to see. She was cute with a peaches and cream complexion and an ear-to-ear smile. She looked carefree, young, innocent.

She wasn’t so innocent anymore. “How old is she?” I asked.

It was surprising that he had to think about it. Then again, if they were dating casually, he might not have known for sure. “Twenty-eight? No, twenty-nine. She said something about turning thirty on her next birthday.”

I made a note of that, as well. “Let’s say I find her. Do you want her to know you were looking for her?”

“No.” No hesitation, no moment to think it over. “No, tell me immediately. Tell me where to find her. I have to make things right. I need to apologize for ever putting her in any jeopardy or making her feel like she had to run away.”

He set down his fork, balling up a fist and touching it to his stomach. “It’s like a knife in my gut. I can’t stop blaming myself for forcing her to run. If anything happened to her, it would be my fault.”

So far, nothing about his story set off any red flags. Still, I was reticent. “If she doesn’t want to be found, what then? Would it be enough for you to know she’s safe somewhere?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know if there’s anywhere she could be safe without my protection. Safety could be an illusion,” he concluded, looking at his plate and what was left of his lunch. With a scowl, he muttered, “I’ve lost my appetite. I can’t help it. Whenever I think of what could happen to her because of me… I should have known better than to get involved with her. “

“You can’t blame yourself too much. If someone else is after her, that’s because they made that decision, not you.”

“Right. Maybe I needed to hear it from you.” It didn’t take long for his self-flagellation to end. Checking his watch, he winced. “Shit. I have a meeting at one, and it’s already a quarter to. Do you mind if we cut this short?” His attention landed on a man standing near the entrance. When he nodded, the man headed outside to get the car.

“Not a problem.” The sooner I got started, the sooner I could finish. “I’ll have a report for you in around five days.”

“You think it will take that long?” he asked, looking concerned and maybe a bit irritated. He never did have much patience.

“Five days on the outside,” I amended. “I like to underpromise and overdeliver. Don’t tell anyone,” I added, grinning, which seemed to placate him.

“I like the way you think.” He took care of the bill, then shook my hand. “It’s good to see you. I want you to know that whenever I get the chance, I ask your mom about you. I hope you don’t mind.”

If it hadn’t been for their occasional communication, I would never have known Dominic was looking for my help. While Dad and I hadn’t exchanged a word in more than fifteen years, Mom and I spoke weekly—one thing he couldn’t take from me. “I don’t mind, though she thinks you need to settle down with a nice girl and start a family,” I joked.

He didn’t see the humor. “Right. Look what happens when a man in my position starts to think that way.” A troubled look washed over his face before he cleared his throat. “I better go. I look forward to your report, and, of course, I’ll keep an eye out for your invoice,” he added.

“We never did talk about my fee,” I reminded him as we left the restaurant. I noted the appreciative looks cast our way by several women. While the suit I’d worn for our meeting wasn’t the expensive custom-made masterpiece he wore, it was hardly shabby. Despite what I could afford, I never developed a taste for dressing or living extravagantly.

He merely laughed. “What was one of the lessons we learned when we were kids? If you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it. I’m confident I can.” With that, we parted ways on the sidewalk. It was a relief to drop the blank expression I’d carefully practiced over the years to mask the thoughts running through my head, which I vented briefly once I was in the privacy of my truck. I then called my most trusted mentor in hopes of getting his opinion on whether I had done the right thing by accepting Dominic’s request for help.

Detective Jack Meadows was the only living soul who knew the ins and outs of my youth and the rocky, broken road I’d traveled to get where I was today. His phone went to voicemail when I called, but that was no surprise—the beauty of retirement, he claimed, was knowing no one owned his time anymore. He would listen to my message and get back to me when he was good and ready.

In the meantime, I stared out the windshield, airing my thoughts in a recording while watching pedestrians stroll past. “I told myself I wouldn’t get involved again,” I added, remembering the darkest days of my life. “But this girl might be in trouble. It’s not her fault she got mixed up with the wrong person. And I do feel sorry for him. He seemed distraught. He feels guilty. I can’t punish her by punishing him. But you know how it is,” I concluded with a sigh. “Once you’re in, they don’t let you go. I would rather not become the family’s go-to fixer.”

By the time I ended the message, I was no closer to understanding my feelings about the situation. Did my feelings matter? This didn’t have to be a permanent arrangement.

And part of me felt I owed it to Dominic. A means of balancing the scales after a lot of dark shit I’d worked like hell to put behind me.

After ending the call, I placed another one to one of the guys in my office. Drake was my research guru, able to find a needle in a sea of haystacks. I sometimes wondered how he did it, but I also knew better than to ask about the methods he guarded so carefully. After rattling off the information Dominic had shared, I added, “Let’s keep this between the two of us for now. I want to mull it over a bit before I make a move.”

“You’ve got it,” he assured me because he knew better than to ask questions. It was yet another thing I appreciated about him and all the men freelancing for me—they valued discretion and efficiency and knew better than to ask too many questions. They were all self-starters since time was a valuable commodity, and there was none to waste while waiting for instructions.

With a sigh, I started the truck, intending to change at my apartment before heading into the office to settle a few administrative issues. Along the way, one name weighed on my mind.

Scarlet Bowers.

The woman who could very well end up roping me back into a world I swore I would never return to.

2

SCARLET

“Here you go.” After removing an empty glass from in front of the man sitting at the slot machine, I replaced it with more of what he had just finished. “Can I get you anything else?” I asked, plastering the same fake, almost brittle smile I wore during every shift. It was the only way to get tips, plus my ability to pretend incessant flirting didn’t bother me half as much as it did. Gamblers didn’t want reality. They wanted a fantasy world in which young women naturally fawned over them, impressed with their ability to… what? Pull the arm on a slot machine and wait to see if they were lucky?

Whatever. All that mattered was giving it to them and hoping they believed in tipping generously.

This one did, shoving a ten-dollar bill at me without looking. “Thanks, babe. Keep them coming. I’m feeling lucky today.” I held my tongue rather than remind him he was feeling lucky three days ago too. I didn’t know his name. There was no reason to learn it, but I recognized him after having seen him around multiple times in the month since I’d started working here. Primm was a world away from Las Vegas, but certain principles applied in any casino. It was psychology, plain and simple, and years of working in casinos had basically earned me a PhD in it—getting close enough to my customers that they felt comfortable parting with more of their hard-earned money.

I hurried over to the bar, dropping off the empty glass, looking around to see if anyone else needed a refill. It was the sort of job that didn’t allow people to rest on their laurels, for sure. Some people did, but they were the ones who usually complained at the end of a shift that they had made shit in tips. It was like they never quite got it. I always kept my thoughts to myself, silently commiserating with a frown or a pat on the back while my pockets bulged with cash.

To think there was a time not too long ago when I imagined I would never have to do this again.

Biting the inside of my cheek snapped me out of the reverie threatening to consume me. It was always like that. I had to be vigilant to keep from thinking about him and the life he’d given me a glimpse of. What ease and freedom could feel like, at least financially.

He also taught me that some people demanded other types of freedom in return. He taught me there was no such thing as having all of my prayers answered.

“Hey, gorgeous.” A tall, burly man wearing a trucker cap sauntered to the bar while I helped unload clean glasses from a rack. “You look like just the thing I need to get lucky tonight.”

The longer I worked in casinos, the more I was convinced there was not a single original pick-up line left. Yet every man acted like they invented it.

I forced a smile, arching an eyebrow. “What can I get for you?” I wasn’t the bartender, but I could pour drinks when Richie was busy, as he was now, dealing with a trio of loudmouth senior citizens at the other end of the bar. There were three others on the casino floor. Why did this jerk have to visit mine?

“You tell me,” he suggested, bellying up to the bar and settling on a stool before practically licking his chops, like the Big Bad Wolf in the old cartoons, not bothering to hide his intentions.

How about a knee to the balls? “I think a man like you likes hard liquor,” I decided because the idea was to make them pay more and thus tip more. Granted, it didn’t always work that way, but the casino owners certainly enjoyed the profits. Considering I really needed this job if I was going to save up enough to get away permanently, I had to keep the bosses happy.

“Oh, hard is the name of the game,” he confirmed, which was probably supposed to be a slick double entendre, but it came off rather awkward.

Of course, I pretended otherwise, flashing a bright smile while tossing my dark ponytail over my shoulder. More than a month after I first dyed it from its natural blonde, there were still moments when the sight of it surprised me. “How about Jameson 18 Year?” I asked with a wink. “It’s pretty pricey. Not everybody can handle it.”

“There’s not much I can’t handle,” he countered, the corner of his mouth tipping upward. All right, it’s time to put an end to this discussion before things went too far. I poured him a drink and slid it his way before noticing several women looking around with empty glasses.

“Good luck to you,” I told the man, picking up my tray, grateful for a reason to leave him behind. It was always like going through the motions of a strange, delicate dance. Some guys just couldn’t take a hint. They probably went to strip clubs and believed the dancers were actually into them too. It was sort of sad and definitely uncomfortable.

Soon, I was busy enough that I forgot about him, hustling back and forth, taking orders, picking up empties, cheering with a few of my customers when they had a winning hand. The work was easier at the blackjack table, where the only complaints were from players blaming me for the cards they were dealt. I learned to deal with that over time. Sure, there were flirtatious creeps, too, but mostly, the gamblers were serious. Focused. And the big winners liked to tip generously.

Like a certain big winner I’d met in Vegas when he had a very good night. For a while after that, I’d considered it a good night for me too. Amazing how things could change.

As the night went on, I noticed Trucker Hat Guy—my nickname for him—trying to get my attention more than once. I was busy enough that I could easily ignore him, acting like I didn’t notice. Would he ever take the hint that this was my job and not an excuse to find my next hookup? He was a good twenty years older than me, for one thing, but then men never seemed to care about that. They always figured they were the exception to the rule, even if they wouldn’t think of dating an older woman. Double standards were a real bitch.

“Sarah…” I heard the name being called out gently in a singsong voice before I remembered the name I had requested printed on my name tag. Scarlet was not exactly a common name, and I didn’t need anybody to find me here. Paranoid? I doubted it. Some men were determined to the point of obsession when it came to getting what they wanted.

Finally, I realized the man crooning the name was talking to me, and the sight of a familiar trucker cap made my stomach lurch when I turned to him standing directly behind me while I waited for a couple of drink orders to be prepared. He smelled like booze and sweat—not exactly a great combination. My nose wrinkled in response as I turned, putting on my most professional smile even as I longed to lean away from his stench. “Hi there. Have you been lucky tonight?”

“You tell me. What are my chances?” He looked me up and down without bothering to hide his thoughts, his dark eyes hard as they assessed me. “You look like something I’d like to take a chance on, but I need to know the odds.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’ll understand.” Lowering my voice, I explained, “I can’t fraternize with the casino’s guests.”

“Everything okay over here?” Richie was an old-school sort of gentleman, the sort of guy who’d seen everything at least twice after working behind a bar for decades. He looked from Trucker Hat Guy to me. “Can I get you something, sir?” he asked with a tight smile.

The dude could not take a hint. “Yeah, you can get me this one’s phone number.” He jerked a thumb toward me, laughing suggestively. Talk about a surefire way to make a girl’s skin crawl.

I threw Richie a panicked glance he absorbed without his expression shifting. “I’m sorry, that’s not one of the items we offer, but I will be happy to pour you a drink.” I could have kissed him for handling that so smoothly.

With a scowl, the man replied, “I think that’s her decision, don’t you?”

“As I told you…” I gently explained, searching for security from the corner of my eye, “… there’s no fraternization allowed.” I didn’t bother apologizing because that would give him the wrong idea. As I hurried away with my tray of drinks, I almost laughed at myself. There I was, advocating against fraternization, wishing I had maintained that attitude when I met Dominic. If only I had been smarter then.

There was no point in beating myself up, so instead, I delivered my drinks, including a beer I passed to a handsome, quiet man sitting at the end of a row of slot machines. He had a friendly smile that didn’t demand anything or suggest anything other than gratitude, and I appreciated that after hours spent avoiding a creep who couldn’t take a hint.

“Thank you,” he murmured, and I found myself smiling genuinely for the first time all night once I looked into his deep-set dark eyes and found warmth that made my pulse pick up speed. His face was perfect—rugged and chiseled, except for a thin scar that ran down from his left temple and traced the curve of his jaw. It somehow made the perfection stand out in greater detail. Perfection that made goose bumps pebble on my skin and my teeth sink into my lip. God, he's gorgeous and sitting here all alone.

He reached a hand up to sweep a few strands of chocolate-brown hair away from his forehead, glancing over my shoulder as he did. I was almost sorry he broke eye contact, wishing he’d look at me again so I could feel warm all over. “You might want to be careful about that guy in the trucker hat,” he informed me in a rich, deep voice. “He’s been watching you all night.”

How would he know that if he hadn’t been watching too? The question danced on the tip of my tongue, but I held it back since I didn’t know whether he was being helpful or flirtatious.

“By the way,” he continued, almost chuckling, “I hope you stick to working in a casino instead of gambling in one because you have zero poker face. You’re wondering why I’m paying attention. It’s because he’s not exactly quiet, and it’s fairly obvious he’s waiting for you to get off your shift. Do you need someone to walk you to your car when you’re clocked out?”

The question was sweet on the surface. It made my skin go hot and my pussy tingle for the first time in ages. What I wouldn't give to get a guy like him alone—at least, the old version of me, the one who hadn’t sworn off men for the foreseeable future. “I don’t think so, but thank you for caring. Really.” Out of the frying pan into the fire. No, thank you. I was through making the mistake of trusting the wrong people just because they offered temporary comfort.

He accepted my response easily enough, returning to the slot machine and sipping his beer. His presence weighed heavily on my mind and my sex-starved body, but my hormones wouldn’t be a problem for long. I would clock out in another fifteen minutes, and my aching feet would be relieved. It was one thing to stand at a table for hours on end but another to crisscross the casino floor countless times. I really needed to get a step counter to see how many miles I walked every night.

My purse was full of cash by the time I clocked out, leaving through the back door with a handful of others on my shift. “Goodnight!” I called out, though it was closer to morning by now. The sun would be up in an hour or so. It was disorienting, spending hours on end in a windowless casino, cut off from the outside world. That was all by design, naturally. The customers needed to be completely cut off from reality, to lose track of time, to exist only from one bet to the next.

My beat-up Chevy waited for me in the employee lot, looking like salvation after a particularly long shift. It would be worth it once I got home, even if my apartment was nobody’s idea of luxury. I didn’t need luxury. I’d experienced luxury, and where had it gotten me? It had taken me all the way to Primm, a town where I couldn’t even use my actual name while working. It was somewhere I’d only stopped because Reno had seemed too obvious a retreat, and Primm meant being on the border between Nevada and California, where I intended to move on after hoarding enough tip money.

When I considered the trade-off, I wished I had never accepted Dominic’s invitation for a drink after my shift ended. That invitation changed the course of my life and left me adopting a name that wasn’t mine, dyeing my hair, and trying to blend in with the strangers around me just in case the wrong people ever came looking around.

“Hey!”

I was halfway to opening my car door when I heard it. There probably wasn’t a woman in existence who didn’t recognize the tone in a man’s voice once he decided he was through playing nice. A man pissed off because he didn’t get what he thought he was entitled to.

I barely had time to turn before I ended up shoved against the car door hard enough to knock the wind from my lungs. “The fuck is your problem?” he snarled, and it didn’t take a glimpse of him in the reflection from the window to know Trucker Hat Guy had followed me outside. For one brief, panicked moment, I remembered the guy who offered to walk me out. Why had I turned him down?

“Get off me,” I gritted out, driving an elbow into his stomach hard enough to make him stumble backward. I fumbled for the door handle, determined to escape inside the car and get the hell out of there.

I managed to grab hold, but not before he took hold of me again, turning me in place and pressing my back against the door when he leaned his considerable weight against me. He loomed large, making it a struggle to breathe.

“Not such a little smartass cunt now, are you?” he snarled in my face. The stench of whiskey wrapped itself around me, making me gag, making me wish I had never served him.

“Off… me…” I groaned. All he did in response was roll his hips, pressing his dick against me, making sheer terror burst into full colorful life inside my skull. Adrenaline coursed through me, my heart racing a mile a minute, all my instincts telling me to scream. I couldn’t get enough air to scream. I could only weakly gasp while he ran his unwelcome hands over my body, making me gag and shudder until I was finally able to drive a knee into his balls. Not hard, but enough to make him fall back. Grasping himself with one hand, taking hold of my ponytail with the other, he yanked hard enough that I dropped to my knees.

Agony exploded behind my eyes, spreading across my scalp, lighting it on fire while my knees screamed as the rough pavement scraped them through my jeans.

“Do you want to play, bitch?” he growled, yanking my head back so I could stare up at him, his face inches away, spittle flying. “Is that what you want? Do you think this is a fucking game? Let me show you who makes the fucking rules.”

The hand he used to cup himself now curled into a fist before he cocked his arm back, preparing to strike.

Suddenly, my hair was free and my head along with it. I did the only thing I could think to do, curling into a ball, lacing my fingers across the back of my head to protect myself. And then I waited.

Instead of a fresh burst of pain where his fist landed, I heard a deep grunt before what sounded like a sack of potatoes hitting the ground. A very large sack, one that groaned again.

Holding my breath, I opened my eyes, gasping when I found the trucker’s hat lying on the ground between me and the man now getting the living shit kicked out of him. He was on his back, pulled partway up by his shirt collar so a very large, muscular man could deliver one blow after another to his face.

“You asked her if she wanted to play. Don’t you want to play with me, fucker?” Again, he punched him, and soon the sound of cracking bones followed every pained, strangled grunt. “Why don’t you try going up against somebody your own size, huh?”

It was brutal enough to turn my stomach, the sight of blood splashing across my attacker’s shirt, the sound of one of his teeth hitting the ground, along with the line of blood he spat out before trying to breathe. “Please,” he whimpered, but his pleas went unheard until another punch made him go limp.

The man responsible let him drop to the ground but stood over him, fists clenched at his sides, his broad chest and shoulders heaving with every ragged breath. A soft grunt accompanied those breaths and brought to mind a victorious animal standing over his kill.

Only the man on the ground wasn’t dead. His chest rose and fell. How could he have lived through a beating like that? I had never seen anything like it and could hardly believe it was real.

But the pain in my knees was real. My tender scalp was real. The stench of blood? Most definitely real, and it turned my stomach.

The grunting animal turned to look down at me, and I realized he wasn’t an animal at all. I had served him at the slot machine. He asked if I needed help. He must have followed me the way the bleeding, unconscious man on the ground had.

Now, he extended a hand to me. “Are you okay?” he asked in a voice much rougher than the one I’d heard earlier. Almost scary. What was scarier was his blood-splattered hand hovering inches from my face. I wouldn’t have touched it for anything.

He seemed to understand that, pulling it back when I stared at it.

“I’m okay,” I whispered, unsteady as I got on my feet. All this time, nobody else walked past. I would have gotten hurt much worse if it hadn’t been for this guy coming to my rescue.

That didn’t mean I could bring myself to look him in the eye, instead opening my car door. All that mattered was getting out of here, away from this. I couldn’t stand the metalic smell of blood anymore. “Thank you,” I thought to mumble before getting inside. “You’d better go before somebody comes out and sees you.”

“Don’t worry. I can handle it.”

He sounded so sure of himself. Like this wasn’t the first time he’d beaten somebody half to death. I didn’t want to know what I thought he meant.

Instead of asking, I got behind the wheel and drove out of the lot without looking back. Moving on autopilot, I only cared about getting home and locking the door.

However, something told me not even the strongest lock could offer comfort after what I’d come close to suffering and had witnessed.

3

GRAYSON

The pleasant sounds of a bustling diner weren’t enough to cool the heat that had burned in my chest over the last two days after beating a man half to death in the employee parking lot of a casino in Primm. There was no excuse for it. I should have stopped myself long before I did. I couldn’t shake the sense of disappointment after losing control.

No more than I could shake the memory of how fucking good it was. How alive I felt for the first time in years.

With my hands around a coffee cup, I lifted my gaze to find probably the only man I knew who could truly understand what I was battling. “I thought I left that part of myself behind years ago. How naïve is that?” I muttered, snorting.

Jack kept his thoughts to himself for much longer than I wished he would—one of his habits of thoroughly thinking things over before offering an opinion. Usually, I admired that about him. However, not when I was almost on the edge of my seat, waiting to hear what he had to say. “She’s so petite,” I added as if that would exonerate me or make it right. The memory of her curvy body in a button-down blouse and a tight vest hadn’t left my mind, popping up at the most inopportune moments. I had no business remembering her plump ass as fondly as I did, either. “Defenseless.”

A pendant lamp hanging over the table illuminated his salt and pepper hair. Actually, upon closer inspection, I noticed there was a lot more salt nowadays. Time had done a number on him in the fifteen years since we’d first become acquainted during one of my routine visits to the police station. The lines around his mouth were deeper, his stubbled cheeks now sagged, but his ice-blue eyes were sharp and perceptive as ever when they met mine. “I think your instincts were right on. Nothing is too much for a piece of shit like that.”

His voice was a growl, his gaze going unfocused as if he was looking back, thinking about the things he had seen over a twenty-five-year career in the police force. He had retired as a detective several years back and was now enjoying his freedom, or so he wanted me to believe. He didn’t know he looked and sounded so damn eager whenever I described a new client and their problems like when my good friend, Vaughn Eastman, requested protection for his wife he’d married in a drunken haze after a friend’s wedding. I had talked over the details of the situation with Jack, and he had granted me some invaluable advice, but then he’d been doing that for years.

“Nobody’s trying to argue whether the man deserved to have his ass kicked,” I agreed, a little impatient. “But I could barely stop myself from taking it all the way. That is the first time in years I’ve gone that far, and it freaked me the fuck out,” I confessed.

“Did it maybe have something to do with all the memories your lunch with Dominic probably stirred up?”

Those perceptive eyes stared straight through me. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, considering the question. I had contemplated it quite a bit over the two days since setting my sights on Scarlet for the first time. Or Sarah, as she was known at the casino. Smart girl, using a different name, not to mention the change in her hair color. Granted, it hadn’t made a massive difference since I’d recognized her without much trouble after the intel Drake gathered pointed me toward the casino.

Still, I had to wonder how she had gotten involved with Dominic if she was so smart.

That was none of my business. This was a job like any other. Only the client had changed, but the work had not.

Setting down his coffee, Jack asked, “You know what I think?” I arched an eyebrow, silently inviting him to continue. “I think you saw a woman in trouble, and it enraged you. Where do you think that came from?”

At times like this I almost regretted having shared so much with the man who had become my mentor in the years after I’d walked away from my old life as the only son of a mafia soldier, low-level but expected to maintain the same standards of silence and loyalty. It was the world in which I had grown up, in which Dominic and I had attempted to make sense of rules and traditions set in place long before we were born.

His question made my skin prickle, and I shifted uncomfortably in the vinyl booth. “I wasn’t thinking about her. She was the last thing on my mind.” That was the truth, too, though I had certainly thought a lot in the hours and days after the beating I’d handed out about the mystery woman whose death had changed my life. If she had anything to do with it, it was entirely subconscious.

“It would make sense if you did it for her,” he reasoned in his usual supportive way. “You weren’t able to help that woman years ago, but there’s a chance you could help this woman.”

“I guess.” Though nothing could bring her back, whoever she was—unnamed collateral damage. He was also being kind. I could have helped her if only I hadn’t frozen. If only I’d opened my mouth to stop what was unfolding.

“Do you think you can help Scarlet?” he asked, playing with a sugar packet from the caddy on the table. He’d given up sugar the past few years on doctor’s orders, something that had irked the shit out of him. I held fond memories of the bowl of chocolates he used to keep on his desk down at the station. I had eaten my weight in Hershey’s by the time I got my act together and straightened up.

“Honestly, I’m not sure how I could help,” I confessed. As usual, he was able to casually get to the heart of the matter during a simple conversation. “Dominic wants to make sure she’s safe. I should tell him I found her. That’s my duty to my client.”

“So why haven’t you?”

Though I was completely safe speaking openly with him in this diner, I felt the need to lower my voice and lean partway across the table. “I’ve been thinking. Beyond omerta, what’s one rule that’s been passed down from generation to generation in these old families? What is one line that never gets crossed?”

“No women or children.” The fact that he answered so readily tells me he’d considered this as well. He was only waiting for me to bring it up.

“Exactly. Why would anybody go after her to get to him? Either he is involved with some serious shit that goes beyond the families, or there’s something he’s not telling me.”

There was something I wasn’t telling Jack too—the way she curled into a ball, trembling, hands laced behind her head—a protective position born from experience. She hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t planned her next move. She had simply curled up, waiting for the storm to pass. How many storms had she weathered?

Was Dominic behind any of them?

“Follow your instincts,” Jack advised because it was easy for him to say. He hadn’t met Scarlet, nor had he grown up like I had. His family was law enforcement all the way back to his maternal and paternal grandfathers. He only thought he understood the casual violence that could be inflicted upon the women who were so revered in public but often treated so horribly in private.

This was one situation in which my instincts were fucked. Maybe if I hadn’t witnessed Scarlet being attacked, I would feel differently by the time Jack and I parted ways, promising each other to meet next week at the same time. It was something I counted on, sometimes even looked forward to. Some men had family dinners—Jack had been my family since I was eighteen.

Well, Jack and my friends, all of whom would be waiting for me by now at Sebastian’s restaurant. Rather than open a second location named Home Again, he had decided several months back to expand his original location. “Really, it makes more sense this way,” he’d told me at the time he made the decision, and he clearly had a point. Rather than split his time between two locations, he’d expanded the original location and was doing more business than ever a month after the reopening.

His girlfriend, Claudia Granger, was chatting with a table full of diners when I arrived. Catching my eye, she greeted me with a raised hand as she approached. “Oh, good. Aiden can stop complaining about how hungry he is even though I put a platter of appetizers together,” she murmured after offering a brief hug.

“He is the world’s largest toddler sometimes,” I replied. She laughed gently before I continued through the dining room, spotting Sebastian seated with Aiden, Jackson, and Vaughn. There was something to be said for continuity and knowing what to expect. Once a week we got together for dinner or simply for drinks. It was only during the times life got in the way and made me change my plans that I realized how much I had come to rely on this— catching up, sharing ideas. We often talked business, and though we all work in different fields, sometimes an outsider’s perspective was exactly what was needed.

What a shame I couldn’t open up with them tonight. Not about this.

“There you are.” Aiden McConnell patted his stomach, groaning and rolling his blue eyes even though a plate full of nothing but crumbs sat in front of him. “It’s a miracle I haven’t wasted away. What took you so long to get here?”

“Aww, I’m sorry. I forgot baby needs me to cut his food for him,” I replied, sparking soft laughter from the rest of the group. “Had a meeting that ran a little longer.” They might have been my best friends, but that didn’t mean I had to share every detail of my day. Sometimes, a man liked to have a few secrets, something private that was only his.

Vaughn Eastman and I had met back during my wilder days when I was fighting to figure out my place in the world without Mom and Dad and all the people I had grown up around. It was an ugly time. He turned to me now, looking serious. “I’m thinking of increasing security presence in both casinos. Another guy or two on the floor per shift, nothing major.” I’d provided security to his casinos since he took over in the wake of his father’s untimely passing.

“You think there’s trouble around there?” Jackson Bennett asked. “To tell you the truth, I’ve got the new show at the Wynn, and there’s been some rumors going around about asshole influencers and so-called content creators causing trouble in the casinos.”

Vaughn touched the tip of his nose with one finger, scowling. “You’ve got it. These stupid shits making videos, trying to go viral. The entire world is not their studio, but somebody neglected to tell them.”

“Don’t get me started,” Sebastian warned in a dark voice that went well with his sour expression. “These assholes come in here, trying to take videos of our food and staff like they’re fucking critics or something. Like some shitty twenty-year-old is going to offer a deep insight. What a joke.”

“The worst thing social media ever did was give everyone the idea that their opinion matters and we all need to hear it,” Aiden concluded.

I was only vaguely aware of their conversation thanks to the woman who passed our table, offering a discreet smile when our eyes met. The sort of smile Scarlet offered customers as she crisscrossed the casino floor with her tray aloft. The same tight body, too, curvy in all the right places.

There was no getting her out of my head, every moment in the parking lot replaying for my review. She was so quick to protect herself, so terrified, her hair hanging in her face and eyes wide and wild. Full of fear. Obviously, any woman would be afraid during an attack, but there was something different about her.

Was I only telling myself that? Did I want a reason to doubt Dominic? I couldn’t let the past color the present. We hadn’t been anywhere near close in fifteen years. A lot of water had flowed under the bridge.

But some things did not change. Women and children were off-limits. I could not imagine that rule changing. Was he giving me the full story?

What would happen if I asked Scarlet?

“What do you have going on tonight?” Aiden asked, reaching over to nudge my arm when I didn’t immediately respond. Jerking a thumb to Jackson, he announced, “The three of us need to stick together with all this love and commitment bullshit going around. It’s like a disease.”

“We were thinking about stopping over at Dante’s club,” Jackson explained as he polished off the last of the garlic bread that had been left in the center of the table.

“Maybe you better rethink the garlic if you’re gonna head over there,” Sebastian suggested, chuckling as he twirled homemade pasta around his fork. “Unless you want to send all the women screaming from the building. I don’t think Dante has rules about offensive breath, does he?” he asked, looking around the table with a smirk.

“What do you say?” Jackson asked, ignoring him. “You look like you could use a little decompression.”

Normally, I might take him up on the offer. Dante West ran a highly profitable club specializing in every flavor of adult fantasy. Having invested in it along with my friends, I paid closer attention than the average bystander. Maybe it would be beneficial to stop in there, have a little fun, and forget Scarlet, Dominic, and the past for a little while.

When I imagined going through the effort of finding a worthwhile partner there, I couldn’t make the image materialize in my head. It didn’t work. “There’s a few things I want to get settled. Hit me up next time,” I said as I finished my spaghetti and meatballs. I was a simple man with simple tastes, and I had never admitted this to anyone, but visiting Home meant remembering the pasta dinners we used to enjoy on the weekends. Every Sunday, Mom would put a pot of pasta sauce on the stove, and it would simmer all day, filling the house with an otherworldly aroma that would leave me counting the hours until dinner. It had been years since I’d been home for one of those meals, and sometimes I missed it.

“What do you have going on that’s so important?” Sebastian asked after our plates were cleared.

“Maybe I’m going shopping for new friends who don’t ask too many questions,” I suggested with a smirk. “Work shit. You know the drill. And I’ll be sure to get the schedule worked out for you,” I added, nodding at Vaughn. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got your back.”

It was what I did. I protected. I helped. It wasn’t until tonight, sitting with Jack, that it ever occurred to me I might be trying to compensate for what I hadn’t done in my youth—freezing when I should have acted, telling myself my eyes were not seeing what they definitely saw, trusting the wrong person, and believing in someone who had never deserved it. Lives were lost as a result, one of which was likely innocent. Whoever she was, she hadn’t deserved what happened to her. And if Scarlet was on the run, she didn’t deserve it either.

The question was, who was she running from?

I got behind the wheel of my truck, originally intending to head over to the office for a few minutes after dinner. Instead, I called Chase, who normally took care of scheduling. “We’re going to need another two bodies per shift at Vaughn Eastman’s casinos,” I announced, heading southwest. What did I expect to accomplish? I wasn’t sure.

And if I needed any convincing, Chase delivered it when he said, “By the way, Dominic Garibaldi called earlier. He said he doesn’t have your cell number and wondered about an update on his case.” At least I knew Mom had made good on my one and only request—never hand out my personal number to anyone. If someone needed help, I could reach out to them from the office, which I’d done in this case.

It hadn’t been five days yet, but then I was the one who told him it was a generous estimate. I needed to learn not to run my mouth like that. “I’ll handle him. You handle the schedule. It happens that I’m on my way out to Primm again as we speak.”

“I thought we confirmed she’s working out there. That was what Drake said.”

Yes, and his intel was never wrong. “This isn’t a cut-and-dried job,” I explained since I’d never shared the details of what I found two nights ago or what I’d done to that stranger. I was not a fan of being questioned by one of the men whose paycheck I signed. Irritation leaked into my voice while I gripped the wheel tighter. “I’m still handling this on my own. No interference.”

“Of course,” he was quick to reply. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Whether he did or not changed nothing. I couldn’t report back to Dominic until I was sure he was after Scarlett for her protection and not his own.

4

SCARLET

“It was pretty gruesome, or so I’ve been told.” Richie shook his head while wiping down the bar. “The guy got what was coming to him based on the way he was treating you alone. He must have screwed with the wrong person. I only wish I could shake the hand of whoever gave him that beating.”

I had come close to doing that. “And there’s no footage? They’re sure the camera out there wasn’t working?” Why did it matter so much? I didn’t owe that stranger my silence, even if he’d rescued me. He had chosen to use that level of violence. I was sick of violence.

But I still wanted him to be safe. My heart softened every time I recalled his perfectly imperfect face with the scar that suddenly seemed less out of place, knowing how good he was in a fight. I wished I had thanked him better instead of rushing off. How fucked up was that?

He shot me a look that expressed a thousand words. “You’re still new enough that you aren’t familiar with the spotty-at-best reliability of those cameras. Try to pull anything even slightly shady in here? Forget about it, they’re on you like that.” His fingers snapped sharply.

“But not in the employee lot,” I concluded.

“Not in the employee lot. They probably figure they’d spot us stealing on the cameras inside. Why bother making sure we’re safe beyond these doors?” Scoffing, he slapped the towel over his shoulder.

My blood ran cold when I first heard the chatter while waiting to go through the metal detector on the way to the locker room. I’d spent all my day off keeping an eye on the news, waiting to hear about a man found brutally beaten in the employee parking lot of a Primm casino. No such news ever came.

“My bet is the owners shut the whole thing up,” Richie predicted, barely moving his lips when he spoke like he was that paranoid about being overheard.

Word might not have spread far and wide, but it certainly had among the staff. A few people coming in for their shift had witnessed Trucker Hat Guy being loaded into an ambulance, and that was all it took. As far as I knew, nobody had a clue I was involved. There were no funny looks or pointed questions. I might have gotten lucky.

One hour passed, then another. I was almost able to forget everything I’d spent the better part of two days trying to push out of my mind as needy customers demanded my attention. If anything, it was a relief. At home, there was nothing for me to do but remember the attack. Here, I could forget.

Until I rounded a row of slot machines and came face-to-face with the gorgeous, brutal man who hadn’t been far from my thoughts since I left him in the parking lot. I gasped, dropping back a step, my body going hot and cold at the same time. It was a sick, startling sensation. He’s here. Why’s he here?

And why the hell did he have to look and smell so fucking good? Nobody would ever guess by looking at him that this beautiful man with the easy, panty-melting smile could be capable of what I’d witnessed. My body went hotter, pushing the cold away, waking up the sort of yearning I figured was beyond me after what I’d been through.

He didn’t move from the swivel stool on which he sat, his brow furrowing at my startled reaction. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said in that deep voice that didn’t fit what I’d seen him do with his fists.

Get it together. But how? He was my rescuer, yes, but why the hell would he come back here? Sitting there, not even playing the slots. Watching me? “What are you doing here?” I whispered, tucking my hair behind my ear and trying to make this look like a casual conversation when it was anything but.

“I didn’t know I needed an invitation.” Is that supposed to be a joke? He was chuckling like it was. I had to be imagining this.

“It could be dangerous for you. Returning to the scene or whatever,” I babbled, my chest aching when I imagined him being arrested for protecting me.

“I’m perfectly safe.” Pausing a beat, he added, “So are you. You have nothing to worry about.”

No, that wasn’t strange at all. People randomly said that to each other all the time. “Thank you for that,” I replied. It didn’t feel like enough. We were connected. There was no pretending otherwise. “And, um… thank you for helping me the other night.”

I had to walk away. It was too unnerving, the way he stared at me. My skin prickled in the most uncomfortable way, even while my mind kept cataloging little bits and pieces of him— broad shoulders beneath a gray T-shirt that molded itself to his muscles, kind, dark eyes, and the scar I’d noticed when we first met, which now made more sense when I remembered what he was capable of doing with his fists. He smelled like fresh air, coffee, and spice. I couldn’t put my finger on it—I only knew it was a world away from some of the men I served, who’d walk in here wearing enough cologne to make my eyes water. They repulsed me.

Instead of repulsing me, he drew me in. It had to be his easy-going way like nothing really bothered him much. I knew for a fact there were things that did. I had witnessed it. I had stared at his hand, hovering in front of me, smeared with blood I’d watched him spill. Just because he was kind now didn’t mean I could forget what he was capable of. I had already overlooked too much in the past and wound up cursing myself for it.

The fresh, recent memories made me stand up a little straighter and pull my shoulders back, the cheap fabric of my work blouse rubbing against my skin. This was a man whose temper could explode at any second. I couldn’t betray myself by forgetting that.

“Actually, I was going to ask you a small favor. Call it a repayment,” he said, and there was something in his eyes that made the breath catch in my throat. His mouth might have been curved in a friendly, easy-going grin, but there was a weight in his stare. It was something heavy, something that made my skin prickle uncomfortably.

Which was why it was easy to back away, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t work that way.”

Before I could reflect on what a presumptuous asshole he was, he held up his ring-free left hand, of all things to notice. “No, you’re getting the wrong idea. I hoped you would have a cup of coffee with me on your next break.”

Lifting an eyebrow, I asked. “And you’re telling me I got the wrong idea?”

He snickered, but briefly, shaking his head. “Here, on this property. I’m not going to ask to take you anywhere else. That way, you know you’re safe.”

He had thought this out. Now, something began to build in my stomach like dread—tight, cold, and unsettled. “Why?” It was the question at the forefront of my mind, ringing out over suspicion.

“We can talk about it when we sit down over coffee. When is your break?”

The impulse to lie was strong. Funny how close I was to doing it without giving it much thought. I didn’t owe him anything.

But I did because things would have gone much differently if it hadn’t been for him. I didn’t want to think about how differently or painful it would have been, but when I recalled how terrified I was in those moments before this man rescued me, a cup of coffee seemed like nothing in return. “My break is in a half hour. We can go to the café, but I only get thirty minutes,” I warned. “So we’ll need to make it fast.”

“I can be fast. Thank you… Sarah.” His gaze lingered on my name tag.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Oh, of course.” Extending a hand, he said, “Grayson. Grayson Daniels.”

I was very much aware of what he was capable of doing with his hands when I shook his, watching as it engulfed mine while I remembered the strength behind it. The hair on the back of my neck lifted. He wouldn’t hurt me, right? How would I know?

I was never so glad for a customer to wave overhead, trying to gain my attention. Normally, I would roll my eyes inwardly and ask myself if they were afraid they would die of thirst before I got to them. Tonight, I hurried over there gladly, putting on a bright smile, doing everything I could to keep the memories at bay and ignore Grayson’s presence.

It just wasn’t possible. As I carried glasses back and forth across the carpeted floor and chatted with a few people familiar to me, even after only a month of working at the casino, part of me was always in the past. The recent past, the distant past, my subconscious trying to pull the pieces together and make sense of how my life had turned out.

Mom always waited for a man to save her. “Honey, this time our ship has come in!” Me, I grew up and realized there was no such thing as a white knight who would magically solve all of my problems. I figured her bouncing from one man to the other, looking for a savior, might have been what got her killed.

Meeting a man one night and repeating her mistakes. Walking into danger with my eyes wide open.

“Sarah!” I was getting better at recognizing the name and reacting right away, my head snapping around when I heard it. My manager, Wally, stood near the pit. “Break time.”

Oh, dammit. Had a half hour passed that quickly? I nodded in acknowledgment and glanced at the clock. Sure enough, I had lost track of time in all that rushing. Maybe Grayson had left. I couldn’t believe how much I hoped he had left.

No such luck. He sat exactly where I left him in front of the same slot machine I wasn’t sure he had actually played. Two middle-aged women passed him, both looking back over their shoulders to check him out before elbowing each other suggestively. They weren’t wrong. He was definitely gorgeous.

And he only had eyes for me. How flattering that would be under different circumstances, and if I hadn’t already been burned beyond belief.

I lifted my chin in acknowledgment, and he stood, surprisingly graceful for someone of his size. He moved fluidly, a man completely at home in his skin. There was no glancing around to see if anyone noticed him, no attempt at catching anyone’s eye to flirt or intimidate. In other words, he was completely beyond the sort of men I was used to.

That wasn’t enough to get me to trust him, though, because he still had those powerful fists and didn’t mind using them. Men with hair-trigger tempers were not to be taken lightly, no matter how handsome or self-assured they seemed to be.

“I hope this doesn’t cause any trouble for you with your boss,” he offered as we stepped off the casino floor and followed signs leading to a small café that served coffee and pastries around the clock. Stressful situations made me want to eat, meaning the sight of luscious chocolate-studded brownies in the display case made my mouth water.

“Please, let me treat you,” I offered as we approached the counter. “It’s the least I can do.” He dipped his chin before asking the girl behind the counter for an iced coffee, an order which I doubled before asking for a brownie. Ordinarily, I would have been thrilled to be seen with a man like him, reveling in the silent opinions of other women. What a shame my nerves had to go and ruin that.

Once we were seated at a small table close to the counter, I checked the time. “The clock is ticking. What can I do for you?” Because I needed to manage this. He was not the one in control here. I was through giving up my control to men, even gorgeous men with killer bodies who had a habit of staring at my mouth when I spoke and holding my gaze long enough to make my insides go fluttery.

A gentle smile touched the corners of his mouth, and humor sparkled in his eyes—eyes I could’ve drowned in and a smile that made me lose my breath. I wanted to like him. It wasn’t fair. “Right to the point. I was curious about you. I observed a few times the other night when I was first here that people called your name, but you didn’t answer them like you never noticed.”

There I was, proud of myself for getting better at that too. “Oh, really?” Now, I didn’t feel like eating a single bite of the concoction in front of me, but I did anyway, breaking off a piece and popping it in my mouth. Chewing gave me an excuse to stay quiet while I silently flailed around for an excuse. “So you were watching me?”

“I was.” I didn’t know what was more unnerving—his intense stare or his absolute frankness. He didn’t even try to flirt his way through it. He just came out with the truth.

“Why?”

With a smirk, he replied, “I thought I was the one asking questions,” before sipping his coffee. He took it black. Clearly psycho.

This was not the time for irritation to flare up, but it did, and it left me retorting, “I guess I was very busy. Don’t you ever get busy? Distracted, lost in thought? Is there anything wrong with not being able to hear everything everyone says in a busy casino?”

Now, he was going to tell me not to bite his head off. His eyes certainly narrowed like he was about to. Hopefully, he would decide I wasn’t worth the time. “I am always busy,” he murmured, the ghost of a smirk still floating over his handsome face. “How long have you worked out here?”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Wow, I did my best not to get defensive, but I only lasted roughly two minutes. Folding my shaking hands in my lap, I asked, “Please, can you tell me what this is all about? Because I would like to freshen up before I return to the floor.”

A shadow passed over him, stiffening his posture, tightening his jaw. “Fine. Have it your way.” Nudging aside the cup with the casino’s logo printed on the side, he folded his hands on the table. It took every ounce of my concentration not to stare at them, remembering the sickening crunch of bones and the alarming but very real thrill of watching someone who hurt me get what he deserved. “An old friend of mine came to me recently and asked for my help. He told me someone he cares about left him because they learned more than they should have about his business.”

Oh my God. I suspected this, didn’t I? Deep down inside, I knew there could only be one reason why a perfect stranger would take this kind of an interest in me. It was why I didn’t want to trust him, after all.

But hearing him say it? There was a difference between suspicion and having no room for doubt. My stomach turned and sent coffee and chocolate rushing into my throat, making me grip the table and close my eyes in a desperate attempt to hold on until the wave passed.

“I’m sorry if I shocked you.” He didn’t sound sorry, did he? No, he was all business. “But I’m here on a job.”

“A job,” I choked, still battling the nausea that had me in its grips. “I’m glad you think that’s all it is.”

“You think you’re getting away from me? You will never get away from me because you belong to me.” I almost gagged at the memory but fought it back, rising to my feet, swaying but somehow managing to stay upright as I held onto the table for support. “Get out of here before I have security take you out,” I whispered, opening my eyes to find him looking up at me with a surprising lack of alarm. He might have been a man staring up at the clouds, silently observing without a hint of what he was thinking.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said like that made a damn bit of difference.

“I don’t care,” I insisted in a whisper. “Go.”

“Hear me out.” That was when he made the biggest mistake of all. When he reached out and touched my hand, the shockwave that flew up my arm made me shudder, or was that my imagination? It would have been so easy to trust him or at least convince myself to. His touch was electric yet somehow comforting.

Which made it dangerous.

Comfort was an illusion, after all.

And I’d be damned if I let myself forget it.

Yanking my hand back broke the connection. It was a good thing, no matter how completely alone I felt in its absence. “Get out of here,” I urged in a whisper. I didn’t bother waiting to see if he would because I couldn’t stay still. I had to go, now, far away. Just as far as I could go. What was I thinking stopping in Primm? I should have gone to Mexico or maybe East, instead. I should have kept driving and not stopped until the car broke down. And even then, I could’ve walked.

I wasn’t thinking. Panic was too strong to let anything like rational thought take control. Stumbling almost blindly, I somehow made it to the locker room and pulled out my purse. “Sarah? What are you doing?” somebody asked when I took off my name tag and tossed it into the locker. There was no finding the words to explain, so I didn’t bother. If anybody tried to stop me, I would tell them I was sick. I felt sick, so it wasn’t a lie.

He found me. He fucking found me. There I was, hoping Dominic was bluffing. But no, he hired somebody to look for me. Shit, did he already know I was found? Why hadn’t I asked Grayson?

Grayson Daniels. I needed to remember the name. I needed to look him up and find out who he was, but that’s only one item out of a long list I could handle it later.

Right now? I had to go.

I had to keep going as far as my meager savings could take me.

5

GRAYSON

And when I opened my eyes in a bright, sunshine-filled room, one thought rang out in my mind like a gong.

I fucked up.

How badly had I fucked up? Badly enough that instead of going home last night, I had rented a room in a nearby motel. There was no sense in making the near-hour drive back to Vegas when I knew I would only come this way again. I had to. I had to make things right somehow.

The only problem was I didn’t have the first clue what that looked like, making it right. I had terrified her by being too blunt and forward. I’d gone into it telling myself to tread lightly, but there was no tiptoeing around shit with a person who demanded truth they only thought they wanted to hear.

Yet another reason to suspect Dominic had more to do with her running away than he wanted to let on.

Sitting up in bed, my back protested after hours spent tossing and turning in a vain attempt at getting comfortable. I might as well have slept on the floor. A few stretches helped, and after a stop in the small but clean bathroom, I went through a series of push-ups and crunches to get my blood flowing and my brain clicking.

Dammit, I had fumbled the ball, but what was I supposed to do? It was obvious the girl was guarded, wounded, afraid. She must have left the casino after leaving me in that little café since I stuck around another hour and never saw her again.

By the time I finished my brief workout, it was clear whatever she had seen or been through was enough to scare her shitless. Instead of blaming myself for scaring her off, I needed to start thinking about what would make her run from me.

Not that it was my problem. The realization and the truth behind it made me uncomfortable, but it changed nothing. I had been sent here on a job. I had found my subject. All that was left was reporting back to Dominic. He could take it from there.

I told myself that. I did. And it was the truth.

But why did it leave such a bad taste in my mouth as I got in the shower? It wasn’t the shitty water pressure that left me uneasy. It was instinct.

Dominic had hardened over the years. I couldn’t forget that. I quickly dried off, pulling on a pair of jeans and a favorite T-shirt. I always kept a bag of clothes in the car, just in case my work meant spending an unexpected night or two away from home. Even the comfort of my favorite old clothes didn’t ease the suspicion that had been building in me through the long, sleepless night. Something about this situation did not sit well. If Dominic had turned into the sort of guy who could build and maintain his own crew, what else was he capable of? How much like his father was he? There was a reason he used to come to my house a lot versus me going over there. Dad was no saint, nowhere close, but his temper was nothing compared to that of Paul Garibaldi.

Vivid memories assaulted me, bringing to mind days when he would roll up in front of the house, and the energy shifted instantly with both Dominic and Mrs. Garibaldi walking on eggshells until they were sure Paul was in a decent mood. If he were, he would come in whistling, calling out for his family in an almost playful tone.

If not? If the front door slammed and the man of the house shouted rather than calling out playfully for his wife, Dominic would ask if he could have dinner at my house. He would sometimes sleep over too. Mom always welcomed him and urged him to stay because she knew—people always knew, no matter how hard others tried to hide the truth.

Could I believe the apple fell too far from the tree? Dominic would hardly be the first person who ever turned into the sort of monster he had grown up fearing. Even though Paul disappeared when we were eighteen, the damage could have already been done. Even if it hadn’t been, the following years spent in the company of men who revered their mothers and cheated on their wives right and left could have turned him into the sort of man who would give a woman no choice but to run away.

A beautiful woman too. The sort of beauty I couldn’t allow to work its way too deep into my awareness, or it would be way too easy to forget professionalism. It was the sort of touching fragility with a hidden core of steel that left me longing to protect her rather than doing my job and walking away. Admiring her beauty and bravery would lead to nothing good. I had to shut those thoughts down.

Still, I could understand why Dominic was drawn to her. She was photogenic, but there was something about being in her presence that went beyond any photograph. There was a light that radiated from her. Even with her hair dyed a mousy brown that could only have come from a box, she couldn’t hide that light.

What would happen if I handed her over to Dominic?

How long would it take before that light went out?

What the fuck was I even thinking?

I was letting my imagination run away from me, making up stories that might have had no basis in reality. Even if I were right, I had no business thinking of her as anything more than a woman in trouble. Shaking myself free, I called the office and got Drake on the phone. “I have a couple of things to settle out here before I drive up later,” I explained. “Did I miss anything?”

His dry, humorless laugh answered my question before he said a word. “Dominic Garibaldi called in five minutes ago. I was going to let you know, but you beat me to it.”

Closing my eyes, I released a breath. “What did he have to say?”

“For one thing, he seemed a little pissed that he still doesn’t have any way to reach you directly.” With another laugh, he added, “The word ‘policy’ doesn’t seem to mean anything to him.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll buy him a dictionary,” I grunted. “I’m not about to change my policy for him.” There was a reason nobody got my personal cell number. Boundaries had to be maintained. Any other client would receive a number that connected them to my office, and shared history didn’t make a difference. “I’m sure he doesn’t hand his private number out to just anyone. Was that all he had to say?”

“He’s looking for an update.” He paused before adding, “It has been five days since your lunch with him, and he only mentioned that around ten times.”

He was about as patient as his father had been. A man in his position was used to the rest of the world asking how high when he told them to jump. “I’ll reach out to him.”

The silence on the other end of the call didn’t bode well, even if it didn’t last long. “Can I ask exactly what’s going on with this one? Everybody knows the name Garibaldi. How do we make it out of this clean? I thought there were rules about the sort of clients we took on.”

Yes, there were rules. I couldn’t afford to risk a reputation I’d spent years building, recruiting the best and most reliable security and intel professionals, earning the respect of clients with deep pockets and large, wealthy networks. There was no room to accept clients without thoroughly vetting them.

There was no need to vet a Garibaldi. As Drake said, the name was a familiar one. “You can ask, but that doesn’t guarantee an answer,” I replied on my way out to my truck. “Suffice it to say Dominic is an old friend in need of a personal favor. It’s my business.” Both literally and figuratively.

“I’m concerned,” Drake replied. “That’s all.”

“Everything’s under control,” I gritted out when my jaw tightened. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about the kind of clientele this is going to bring in. What happens when all of his mob buddies decide they need a little extra help too?”

My jaw was about to crack with all this clenching. “I didn’t know you were such a nervous person,” I replied with a razor-sharp edge in my voice while climbing into my truck. “Maybe this isn’t the right line of work for you if you’re so easily spooked.”

Since when does he question me?

Since when did I allow myself to get involved in a job?

“Sorry,” he mumbled, chastened. “I was out of line.” Somehow, I doubted his sincerity. It was better to let it go and avoid unnecessary conflict—a lesson Jack had managed to drill into my head over the years.

I hadn’t made it easy. Looking back, I often wondered why he’d gone to the trouble. By the time we met, I was a disillusioned kid who’d had his entire life turned on its head—shitty, argumentative, convinced the straight and narrow was a path built only for suckers. I might have walked away from the life, so to speak, but so much of the mentality had already been hardwired into my impressionable brain.

A brain I needed to get back in the game by the time I left the rather grim, rundown motel in which I’d spent the night. I could either wait all day for Scarlet to show up at work—which she might not do if only to avoid my return because it would mean killing precious hours—or I could skip all that and drive straight to her apartment for an honest conversation. She had moved into a little six-unit building four weeks ago and paid rent on a weekly basis. The sort of bleak place on the edge of town where the owner didn’t ask many questions. So long as they got their money on time, it didn’t matter if someone used a fake name.

Somebody like Scarlet would make a perfect tenant. She was quiet, single, and most likely valued her privacy after what she’d been through and what she was running from. It was barely a ten-minute drive there, and I spent the time going over what to say and how to avoid her calling the police.

The first thing I noticed upon entering the small parking area beside the building was her Chevy wasn’t around. It was half past ten. Maybe she’d gone out to run errands. Instinct told me otherwise. The girl worked the late shift at a twenty-four-hour business. She wasn’t used to waking up this early. Perhaps she had picked up an early shift?

Rather than sit in the truck and allow questions to paralyze me, I took action, stepping out and rounding the front of the building, sizing up my surroundings from behind a pair of aviators. The small foyer beyond the front door contained six mailboxes mounted along one wall, five of which featured handwritten names on the metal doors. The other was left blank. It was as good a clue as any.

Jogging up a narrow stairwell to the second floor, I located the apartment in question. It wasn’t easy imagining someone like her living here, with the light that radiated from her or the beautiful smile she flashed so freely around the casino. Granted, it was all in the name of professionalism, but knowing that made her no less magnetic. And she lived in a building whose stairwell and hallways stank of rodent piss and roughly twenty years of stale cooking odors.

Jack might have slowly but surely conditioned me out of my old ways, but that didn’t mean I’d forgotten the tricks I’d learned in those days. Skills, rather, that I still occasionally used in my job. Skills like breaking and entering after knocking on the door and waiting endless moments for an answer. It took nothing—bubblegum would have kept her safer than this shitty, old lock. All it took was a credit card to force the latch aside.

Slowly, I opened the door, cautious in case she was still inside but sleeping deeply. It took nothing but the briefest look around the cramped living room to know what she had done after fleeing the casino last night. Odds were she’d never see her coworkers again.

I searched the place to confirm my suspicions, noting the lingering scent of her floral perfume in the air. Her dresser drawers were empty, the bedroom closet bare, the bathroom free of toiletries.

She was gone.

She ran again.

This time, I had a choice to make. I could either let her go and wish her well, cutting ties with the entire situation, or I could track her down. It hadn’t taken much to find her the first time. I doubted she would present much of a challenge now, fleeing out of fear I had clumsily instilled in her.

Looking at it that way, there was no choice.

There was only action.

The moment Drake answered my call, I got straight to the point. “I’m going to need you to access those bank records again. It looks like she got spooked and ran.”

6

SCARLET

Anoise ripped me from my thin slumber. My heart was in my throat, pounding like a bass drum in my head. Panic gripped me when I looked around at my unfamiliar surroundings—cheap wood paneling, a generic print hanging on the wall opposite the foot of the bed, above a desk made of chipped particleboard. The curtains on the window to my right were pulled over it so only the tiniest beam of light flowed through. In the dim glow, I could barely make out the presence of my suitcases lined up beneath it.

Motel. I was at the motel I found yesterday, where I had checked in and locked the door before I spent the rest of the day peering outside from behind the curtain, staring at the parking lot, waiting. For what? I wasn’t sure exactly. I only knew there could be danger, trouble, and pain.

“You think you can get away from me? You belong to me.” A shiver ran through my prone body as I thought about what he had said, making me pull the thin blankets up around my chin. The bed wasn’t exactly comfortable, and the pillows were flat and a little lumpy, but this was the only comfort I had at the moment, so I tried my best to soak it in.

Where could I go?

What was I supposed to do?

I didn’t have enough money to immediately get very far away. Maybe I could cross the border into California, lose myself there, but what would I do next? I had to be realistic. What kind of job could I find? The cost of living in California was pretty expensive too. Maybe I could drive up to Idaho or over to Colorado. But again, where was the work? It was a nice fantasy, imagining driving from town to town, looking for a job, asking around to see whether there were cheap places to live, but what were the odds I would find something before my savings ran out?

So, what next? Getting away. That was all that mattered.

I had to get far away, so far that he would never find me. Him or his errand boy, Grayson Daniels—most likely a fake name. It was no big surprise when I googled him and found nothing but a few random people who didn’t match his description. Probably somebody who worked for Dominic, somebody I had never met before and wouldn’t be scared of on sight.

Still, I should have known as soon as he beat that man so brutally. That level of violence was delivered so efficiently. It took a certain kind of man to do that. The kind of men Dominic worked with, trusted, knew best. God, it’s all so clear now. So obvious.

A soft footstep outside my room made my heart freeze as I remembered why I woke up. The noise outside. Somebody was out there.

Immediately, my mind went through my options. It didn’t take long since there weren’t any. My only chance of getting out of here would be to shimmy through the tiny bathroom window, partly visible from where I lay on the bed. I wasn’t exactly a big girl, but I doubted I could fit through without making a hell of a lot of noise that would probably alert whoever was on the other side of the door to exactly what I was trying to do.

So then what?

Lie here and wait?

Act like some passive victim?

“Look at you. You think you can stand up to me? Do you think you’re strong enough?” Dominic’s voice was in my head, barely audible over the rapid thudding of my heartbeat.

I couldn’t move. I wanted to get up and throw the door open, but I couldn’t move. It was like being in a nightmare. Only I was very much awake in this room where hundreds, if not thousands, of people had slept. Were any of them as terrified as I was?

Another noise, louder this time. The doorknob slowly turned. I pressed my lips tightly together to hold back a whimper.

Haven’t I done enough of that? It was a strange thought to go through my head at this exact moment, or maybe not so strange. I had whimpered, I had wept, I had curled in a ball with my arms crossed over my head. I was so tired of it—weary, sad, and ashamed of myself for cowering yet again.

In one quick, decisive motion, I threw the blankets back and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Fuck this. If Dominic came for me, I was going to go down swinging. It was either that or live the rest of my life this way, running, terrified, afraid to even use my own name and hair color.

It took all of three strides to cross the room, where I slid the chain off the door and flipped the deadbolt before flinging it open. Brilliant sunshine hit me in the face, making me wince and turn my head to the side for a second before I could bring the man in front of me into focus.

“Sorry if I woke you.” Grayson Daniels, or so he said. I was still holding onto the doorframe, and now I used it to support myself when my knees threatened to give out. Well? Who else would it have been? No doubt Dominic sent him to do his dirty work because he didn’t feel like doing it himself.

I noticed the way he was looking at me and realized I wasn’t wearing anything but a thin tank top and shorts that barely covered my ass. Strange, my wardrobe being my biggest problem at the moment like this. For some reason, it was crucial that I fly back to the bed and grab one of the pillows, holding it in front of me like a shield.

He entered the room without asking, but there was nothing menacing about it. It was more like he strolled, his head moving as he took in his surroundings before closing the door and plunging us into near darkness. It didn’t do good things for my pulse, which had never raced faster in all my life.

“This is where you decided to go,” he mused. “What happened? You get tired of driving after packing up your things?”

Is this a joke to him? Sure, and he could afford to think that way. My ruined life, one big joke. “Enough. Just stop,” I barked, gratified at the way his head snapped back. What, he didn’t expect me to fight? “Stop screwing with me. Do what you came here to do, goddammit. Get it over with.” Because at the end of the day, what choice did I have? If he were going to kill me, I couldn’t possibly fight back. I wouldn’t have tried even if I hadn’t seen him beat up that big, burly man who found it so easy to leave me defenseless.

Death has to be better than living in fear.

His hands hung at his sides, clenching and unclenching in a slow rhythm. “Exactly what do you think I’m here to do?” he asked, his voice smooth.

“To kill me,” I replied before my voice caught. Swallowing, I croaked, “Why else would you have followed me out here?”

A few silent moments passed between us. There wasn’t a sound except my breathing and the television playing in the room next door.

Grayson gestured toward the bed with one hand before hooking a finger around one of the faded curtains to pull it aside far enough that he could look out. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he murmured in his impossibly deep voice. “You’re going to have a seat on the bed, and you’re going to answer some questions for me. I came all this way. I think I deserve a few answers.”

“You don’t deserve shit.”

“Tell that to the guy in the hospital after I smashed his face to pieces.” Slowly, he turned his head far enough that the beam of light flowing into the room illuminated his dark eyes. “I’m calling in a favor here. Tell me what I need to know.”

“And if I say no?”

Lifting a shoulder, he replied, “Then I’m not going to have any choice but to tell the person who hired me to find you that I did, in fact, find you.”

It was one thing to suspect it and another thing to hear it coming straight from him. Obviously, there was only one thing this could be about. Only one person in my life who would go to this kind of trouble.

“If someone hired you…” I replied, thinking fast, “… you already know.”

“Not necessarily. But you’re going to change that because you’re going to tell me. Why are you here?” He formed each word slowly, deliberately. “Why did you run away?”

The fucking nerve. Rage swelled in my chest, filling my mouth until the words poured out. “I don’t have to tell you anything. You accepted money from someone to hunt me like an animal. Why would I tell you shit?”

“Because I’m asking nicely.”

It was disbelief that made me snort, along with surprise. “Yeah, forgive me if that doesn’t do it.”

“It had better,” he replied, making my mouth go dry when he folded his arms. Big arms. Bulging. God, he’s huge. Dangerous. “Believe me, there’s a lot riding on this. I need to know. I need to hear it from you so I’ll know for sure and can make a decision about what to do next.”

“You’re going to make a decision about what to do with the rest of my life?”

He tipped his head to the side. “Something like that.”

Should I? What difference would it make, after all? It wouldn’t change anything. Maybe I could even appeal to him somehow. He might have a conscience.

He was probably a hired killer, and there I was, trying to humanize him.

“Dominic Garibaldi.” Speaking the name made me feel dirty. Maybe I would get into the shower fully clothed and turn the water on as hot as it would go. “That’s who hired you, right? I ran away from his house one day when he went out of town without me, and now he’s looking for me.”

His impressive chest rose and fell in one deep breath after another. Pursing his lips, he blew out an exasperated sigh, then tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “And why is that?” he asked, his voice softer.

“No. Not yet.” I shook my head firmly. “First, you tell me what he told you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. This is my fucking life,” I spat, jumping to my feet while gripping the pillow tight because I couldn’t grip his damn throat. What was it with men thinking their word was law? I was sick to death of it. “Tell me. What was his excuse?”

His broad shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. “He said you heard things you weren’t supposed to hear and found out too much information about his business. That a rival family is after you.”

“That is complete bullshit,” I snarled, even though I wasn’t surprised. What did I expect? For him to go around admitting what he had done to me? What he had threatened? “I was a prisoner in his house and his personal punching bag whenever he felt like it. I ran the first chance I got when he was called away at the last minute and had to jump on a plane to LA for some reason. I wouldn’t know because he never told me anything about his business.”

“I suspected that,” he grunted.

Hope bloomed in my chest, dangerous hope, hope I was afraid to entertain. Hope was a heartbreaker. Hope could get people killed. It could make them walk with eyes wide open into a situation they would ordinarily turn away from.

“Thank you,” I whispered, holding the pillow close to my chest. “Thank you for actually thinking about it and not, like, blindly believing him.”

“This can’t last forever,” he warned, glancing out the window toward the parking spaces beyond it. “He’s already wondering why it’s taking me so long. I have a reputation for getting the job done quickly.”

“Why didn’t you tell him as soon as you found me?”

Turning his head to the side meant giving me a view of his chiseled profile. “Don’t worry about that.”

Fine, then. I was too busy staring at the impeccable lines of his face to listen hard, anyway. Not to mention his tanned, corded arms once he shoved his hands into his pockets. His shoulders stretched the cotton T-shirt he wore when they rose and fell in a sigh. He was a walking distraction.

“There are more important questions that need answering, such as why you really ran. Don’t bother lying,” he warned. “I know him better than you think I do, and I know the world he lives in. If anything, that’s why I knew he wasn’t telling the truth. But I need the truth from you, now. I don’t care what it is.”

“I left him,” I blurted out. “He told me he’d kill me if I tried, but I couldn’t stay. It got to be too much.” The lump in my throat silenced me for a second, but I swallowed it back. “He got to be too much.”

He offered no reaction. I had no way of knowing how he felt about this. Or did I? Because I had seen how far he took things with that pig outside the casino. I couldn’t make sense of the guy, much less of the way I couldn’t help admiring his back and shoulders in a tight, black T-shirt. “How long were you with him?” he asked.

“Six months, two weeks, four days.” He turned his head slightly at my precision. “I kept track. The first couple of months were great. He love-bombed the hell out of me. I understand it now,” I added with a derisive snort at myself.

“And that ended.” It was not a question.

“Yes. It ended.” The pillow in my arms wasn’t nearly thick enough to absorb the pain now flowing through me like hot tar—slow-moving, thick, burning my insides. I had to get rid of it, to let it out, or it would kill me. “By then, he had convinced me to move in with him since he had so much more room than I did. He told me I wouldn’t have to work anymore. He would take care of me. I was so stupid.” One tear hit the pillow, then another.

“You were hopeful, not stupid. There’s a big difference.” He wasn’t unkind when he said it. My wounded heart was almost fooled into softening a little.

Instead, I sat up straighter and drew a deep breath. “How did you find me, and he hasn’t?” I asked.

“I have resources at my disposal that he doesn’t.”

That’s hard to believe. I had seen what the man was willing to spend. Money practically fell out of his pockets. “Like what?”

Looking over his shoulder, he growled, “I don’t have time for this.” When I tipped my head to the side, narrowing my eyes, he rolled his. “I know a lot of people who know a lot of people. They can access information most people can’t… traffic camera footage, bank records, that sort of thing. I was able to track you here with their help. Dominic doesn’t have those connections.”

I dropped onto the bed again, hard enough to bounce slightly. “I didn’t know I made it that easy for you to find me.”

“Again, it was easy for me, but not for just anyone. Consider yourself lucky.”

Lucky? “We have very different definitions of the word,” I muttered with a dry, humorless laugh. “My luck ran out a long time ago.”

“You think so? Because from where I’m standing, your luck has changed for the better. Look…” He sighed, clearly frustrated and impatient. “There’s something you need to understand. I’m here to help you. You might not trust me, but I need you to try while I work this out. You think you can do that?”

“It’s a good thing you’re not a doctor,” I pointed out, heartsick and reeling as my world continued to shrink around me. How was I supposed to go back to living a normal life? And all he could do was urge me to trust him without a hint of sympathy. “Because your bedside manner would probably suck.”

“Good thing, then.” He turned toward me, and I forgot to breathe for a second. What was it about him? Maybe the compassion and darkness fighting for control in his every movement, every line of his body as he held himself rigidly. “I have a few things to take care of back in Vegas, but you should be safe here so long as you’re smart. Can you be smart for a couple of days while I try to work this out?”

Anxiety gripped my heart almost as tightly as I gripped the stupid pillow. “What are you going to do that it’s going to take a couple of days?”

“Scarlet.” The way he said my name stole my breath. It had been a while since anyone used my real name beyond my old landlord and HR at the casino before they printed a special name tag at my request. “Can you follow instructions? Or are you too busy asking questions to listen?”

"Wow, my bad. I’ll stop asking questions and just blindly follow along like a robot. That better for you?”

He narrows his eyes, his expression darkening. The corner of his mouth twitches briefly as if trying to suppress the urge to snap back. Instead, he takes a slow, controlled breath, the tension in his posture palpable. “I will not ask again.”

The man could be condescending, that much was for sure. “I can follow instructions.”

“Good. While I’m gone, there are a few things you need to do if you don’t want somebody else showing up here looking for you.” He dipped his hand into his back pocket and withdrew a generic-looking phone. “Use a burner. Always. Power down your cell, and do not power it back up for any reason. Do you understand me?”

Rather than answer verbally, I took my phone from the nightstand, powered it down, and then tossed it on the bed. “Done.”

“Next. Cash only.” Again he reached into his pocket, withdrawing a wad of bills. “Don’t worry about it,” he muttered when my mouth opened in surprise. “We can settle up another time. If you need anything, use cash. I am honestly surprised he hasn’t found you yet. It’s not that difficult to trace card activity.”

The truth behind his words tightened my stomach. “Right. I won’t do that again.”

“There is enough here to cover anything you might need. This is where you’re going to go.” Along with the money, he handed me a slip of paper with an address written across the top and directions scribbled underneath. “It’s another motel around two hours north of here. You’re going to go, you will get a room, and you will pay in cash. Once you’ve checked in, tear that paper up and flush it down the toilet. You can’t afford to leave anything to chance. Understood?”

“I’ve got it.” Strange, but even though he almost barked orders at me, there was comfort in handing the situation over to him and doing what he instructed. Normally, I would have told him to fuck off with his attitude.

There was nothing normal about this. I needed all the help I could get. “I will call you on that phone. I am the only person who knows the number,” he said. “You don’t have to worry when it rings. Call me when you arrive, then lay low. I’ll update you. It won’t be more than a day or two before I come to get you.”

“What happens after that?” It wasn’t an easy question, but I couldn’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t ask it. What happened after this? Where would I go? What was I supposed to do? This couldn’t go on forever.

“After that?“ With another glance out the window, he muttered, “We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

Staring at him, I voiced one final question weighing on my mind. I thought I knew the answer, but I had to ask. “You’re not like him, are you? Please, tell me.”

“No, I am not like him.” But it took too long for him to answer. He had to think about it. If Dominic had hired Grayson to do this, he trusted him. What would happen if that trust were broken?

“What happens if you never come back? What do I do then?” I asked, my heart picking up speed at the idea.

There was no hesitation this time. “Run. You keep going until the cash runs out, and then you pray he can’t track you. But don’t worry,” he added. “I will come back. All I need is for you to lay low and wait. Can you do that?”

Could I? Do I have a choice? “Yes.” I identified the determination in his voice, his face, his every move and decided to adopt it myself. If he were determined, I could be too. “Yes, I can do that.”

He held my gaze for a beat, and I swear I saw his eyes darken, the color shifting like a storm cloud rolling in. It wasn’t just intensity, it was something dangerous. My heart skipped, my breath caught, but I didn’t look away.

For a moment, everything stilled, even the air between us thick with unspoken words. Then, without another word, he rose from the window seat. He stood, slow and deliberate, like he was deciding whether to stay or leave.

Stay.

But then he walked out without looking back.

7

GRAYSON

It was rare for Jack to meet with me outside of our normal weekly coffee at the diner. Some situations called for a change in routine. Some even called for us to sit in my truck in a parking garage across the street from the restaurant where I’d scheduled a sit-down with my childhood friend.

“She needs help.” I adjusted my tie, which felt a hell of a lot more like a noose. “Badly. It’s exactly the way I imagined. They were together six months, he assured her she was dead if she ever tried to get away.” I couldn’t imagine those words coming out of my mouth, ever. Only a weak, sniveling, cowardly piece of shit would threaten a woman that way.

A brave woman. Feisty. Someone whose frank, level gaze and half-naked body had inspired more than one ill-timed daydream since I left her yesterday. Since then, she’d called using the burner to tell me she was safe at the new motel, where there’d be no trace of her presence. I hadn’t expected her to show up at the door wearing next to nothing, like hearing me out there had gotten her moving before she thought logically about what she was doing.

It wasn’t the first time she’d used doubtful judgment. Hence, my waiting here before going in to sit down with her ex.

Jack grunted his shared disgust, scrubbing a hand over the white bristles covering his cheek. “You know how it is for guys like him. The sort of guys you grew up around. Once something is theirs, it’s theirs. Nobody else can touch.”

“I remember.” Did I ever. Memories of countless women who liked to wear sunglasses indoors and at night overlapped in my mind’s eye. There had actually been a time when I’d asked myself why they didn’t get divorced if their husbands smacked them around. Hard to believe I was ever that innocent.

“The way I see it, you have a handful of options,” he concluded. “You can do your job as you promised and tell him you found her and where he can locate her. You can wash your hands on this and move on with your life.”

The idea left me shifting in my seat. My throat tightened, and my pulse picked up speed. “Right,” I grunted.

“You can tell him you never found her,” he continued. “Tell him she went to Reno, maybe, and got a job there before getting spooked and moving on. You could tell them you lost track of her.”

“That’s true.” Not that I liked the idea any better.

The silence that fell between us was deafening. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, his eyes darting over my face. “Or you could tell him you found her but don’t intend to give him her location.”

Dammit. When he said it out loud, there was no denying the reaction in my body. My throat got tighter, my pulse faster than before, but there was also a sense of focus. Of finding the path, the purpose.

Like that night. That faithful, fatal night when it all became so clear. I could feel the heat from the flames radiating from the past, reaching into the present to warm my skin. The scent of blood dripping down my neck, soaking into my shirt, dripping onto the ground beneath me, was vivid as if it was happening again. In the midst of so much chaos, the truth was clear.

Jack didn’t bother waiting for my response because he knew. His soft voice, followed by a click of his tongue, told me so. “He’ll view it as an insult.”

“An insult? We both know better than that.” I sipped my drive-thru coffee, which was slightly bitter but had nothing on the bitterness building as I imagined Dominic’s reaction. “I’ll be his enemy. That’s how it works. Black or white. No in-between.”

“You think you can take that on? Is one woman worth the repercussions that are going to rain down on your head?”

“It’s about more than that, and you know it.” Angling my body toward his so I could look straight at him, I asked, “How can I look myself in the eye every morning while I brush my teeth, knowing she’s terrified of him, and I rolled out the red carpet to her front door? How do I live with myself?”

“I know you, I know you wouldn’t be able to,” he acknowledged with a slight nod. “I’m only making sure you understand how much more complicated this will become.”

“I get it.” We exchanged a long look. The resignation in his face stirred something close to guilt in my gut. “I have to do it. I can’t give him what he wants.”

“So long as you’re smart about it,” he urged. “I didn’t spend all these years trying to help you out of all that dark shit to have you get killed over a woman. No disrespect to the lady.”

He understood. Our shared history told me so. He was only pretending he wouldn’t have done the same thing in my place out of concern. “None taken. But quit busting my balls, huh? This isn’t some romantic thing. It’s the right thing.”

“Absolutely.” His normal scowl turned to something touched with fondness. “You’re a good man, Grayson. I’m glad to know I didn’t waste my time on you.”

Emotion swelled in my chest almost too suddenly for me to fight it back. “All right, let’s cut it before we start a full-on tear fest. I’d better head in before we end up with soggy shoulders.” It was mid-afternoon, and the restaurant that Dominic had chosen for our meeting was one the family traditionally used for celebrations and big occasions. We’d had dinner there more times than I could count—weddings, confirmations, engagement parties.

Back when I was part of something bigger. An evil, ugly thing that only looked appealing on the surface. Like a blue, placid lake with jagged rocks just beneath the surface.

That was the image filling my head as I exited my truck while Jack did the same before going to his car. I continued across the street and entered the restaurant, where a single table had been set with water glasses and a plate of antipasto. Two men guarded the door, one of whom made a move to pat me down before Dominic waved a hand from the table. “Don’t insult the man,” he chided before gesturing for me to join him. “Even if I am a little peeved that he left me hanging for so long.”

“My apologies,” I offered as I approached the table. The sight of yet another perfectly tailored suit, this one pinstriped, left me glad I’d dressed in a suit for the occasion—it was like battle armor.

“So?” He couldn’t hide the eagerness in his voice as he leaned in from across the four-top table. “What have you found? Is she okay? Where did she go?”

Dominic. You could have been a decent man. I couldn’t help but remember the kid he used to be as I gazed across the table, my heart sinking. “I’m sorry to tell you, but I’m refunding the deposit you sent over.”

He chuckled warmly, dimples showing in his cheeks. “How is that bad news? I get my money back.”

I had witnessed this dance too many times to misinterpret his meaning. He was going to twist my nuts as long as possible, make me sweat, make me squirm. He would have to keep waiting. That wouldn’t happen. “I can’t help you.”

“You can’t?” Lifting his eyebrows, he leaned back in his chair. His fingers tented beneath his chin while his elbows rested on the carved arms. “Exactly, why can’t you? Has there been an issue? Do you not have the resources? Because I find it hard to believe she could escape you when you’re supposed to be excellent at what you do. So, what’s the problem?”

Before I could utter a word, he asked, “What’s changed? Don’t you care that she could be in jeopardy?”

“Of course. That’s what this is all about.”

“Well, then?” he barked, his teeth gritted. Apparently, the man had inherited his father’s impatient nature, among other things.

And he had the fucking audacity to sit there and bark at me. “Let’s get one thing straight. I am not one of your men. I don’t work for you. And since, according to my administrative staff, the deposit has already been refunded as of my arrival here, I don’t owe you anything. This simply isn’t going to work out.” I shrugged with a sigh.

“Did they get to you?” he asked, lifting a thick eyebrow. “One of the other families? Is that what this is about?” He was still determined to keep up the charade.

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” I warned in a low voice. “We both know what this is all about and has been from the beginning. You want her back not because she’s in danger from another family but because she’s in danger from you. And you know how I know that? There’s still a code. There will always be a code.”

His nostrils flared, and his jaw ticked, but that was as much emotion as he revealed. “Times have changed.”

“Have they changed that much? Let me ask you this,” I continued. “Frankly, I should’ve asked you this in the first place. Why are you not protecting her if you thought she was in danger? You should have told her from the beginning you would do everything in your power to keep her safe. You must have houses stashed away, properties that are untraceable to you.” I paused, taking his silence as confirmation before continuing, “You have the financial resources. If you gave a shit about her and her safety, you would have taken care of that from the beginning. You didn’t. Why didn’t you do this yourself?”

“I’m a busy man,” he gritted out, a flush now beginning to creep over the collar of his crisp, white shirt.

“If a woman I genuinely cared about was in danger because of something I was into, you had better be sure I would do everything in my power to protect her no matter how busy I was.”

He scoffed openly for the first time since this charade began, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me what I do and don’t care about. You drop off the fucking map for fifteen years, and then you tell me how to conduct my life?”

This was the real Dominic, and he reminded me a hell of a lot of someone else. Someone who had been dead for a long time.

And I knew because I had watched him die.

And just like that, my father’s voice echoed in my head. “He was a rat! A fucking rat! What, you think I wanted to do this? You think this didn’t break my fucking heart?”

“Cut the bullshit.” Dominic slammed his palms on the table, breaking into the flashback of that terrible night and the memory of my father’s strained shouts before pushing himself out of his chair and leaning toward me in a way that was probably supposed to be menacing. “Did you find her or not?”

“Answer my question first.” I stood as well, my fists hanging by my sides. He was flushed, breathing hard, the opposite of my calm demeanor. Anyone who knew me, though, would know I was anything but calm. “Did you lie to me when you told me the reason she ran?”

“Now I know you found her…” he snarled. “Because you wouldn’t ask that question unless you had. She filled your head with a bunch of shit, didn’t she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let me tell you something.” His shoulders heaved with every ragged breath, reminding me of a rabid dog on a leash. The leash that was about to snap. “If you don’t think I’m going to track your every fucking move from now until the day you fucking die, you have another thing coming. Because if you are not my friend, you are my enemy.”

“Tell me something I didn’t already know,” I replied.

“So that’s fine with you? After everything we shared?”

I had to laugh at that. “If we shared anything real, you wouldn’t have put me in this position.” And he wouldn’t have manipulated me with that bullshit cover story about her hearing too much and going on the run. Pretending this was all about her protection when he was the bastard she needed protection from. I didn’t dare blurt that out and confirm what he already suspected, that she had told me everything. The less I confirmed, the better.

“A position you can’t handle,” he sneered, puffing out his chest. “You couldn’t hack it in the family, so you punked out. Cut ties. Ran off. And now you have the nerve to stand here, acting like you’re superior when you’re nothing but a pussy who couldn’t handle his shit.”

“You should know about not being able to handle shit,” I murmured, knowing I was making a mistake, unable to help myself. “Your dad couldn’t hack it either, which is probably why he turned rat.”

That did it. His face went lobster red, his eyes widening until they almost bulged from his head. “Fuck you,” he spat, shaking. “How dare you? My father⁠—”

“Disappeared without a trace one night and was never seen or heard from again. Now you tell me…” I invited with a smirk. “Does that normally happen to somebody who’s loyal? Faithful?”

“You don’t know a fucking thing.” The man was vibrating with rage so intense it made sweat bead at his temples. “You’re out of your goddamn mind, coming here and insulting me this way. Is it jealousy, maybe? Because your father still speaks to me? Treats me like a son?”

“If it makes you feel better to think that,” I offered with a shrug. “Go ahead. But I’m not handing that girl over to you. End of story.”

“That is not the end of story!” he bellowed as I turned my back on him and began to walk away. “Don’t you show your back to me, you son of a bitch! You don’t leave until I tell you to go.” His voice bounced off the walls, filling the space, making my head ache.

“I don’t work for you, remember?” When his guys stared at me, I stared back, daring them silently to try to stop me. They exchanged a glance before inching aside, giving me room to step through the door while their boss continued to rant and rave behind me.

He should have been glad. He had no idea how much worse that could have gone for him.

How much I knew about what had really happened to his old man.

How my dad, his best friend, had lit the match to set the fire that killed him in retaliation for him being a rat.

How I had witnessed the whole thing.

Jack hadn’t left, not that I expected him to. He visibly relaxed behind the wheel of his Cadillac when he caught sight of me entering the garage. I nodded before glancing over my shoulder to be sure I wasn’t followed. I realized I’d do a lot of that in the coming days and weeks since Scarlet wasn’t the only one now with a target on her back.

I could only hope it was worth it, and somehow, I could make up for keeping silent that fateful night of the fire and the explosion which followed.

How was I supposed to know Paul Garibaldi wasn’t alone in the house my father had set ablaze as payback for his best friend’s betrayal?

“It’s done?” Jack asked, gruff, once he rolled down his window.

“It’s done,” I confirmed, and now my plan was in motion. The dye had been cast, and there was no going back. I would switch cars and meet Scarlet only once I was sure nobody was on my tail.

After that? The future was foggy.

“Good luck, kid.” Jack’s jaw tightened, and he swallowed hard before rolling up the window and backing out of his parking spot.

Yes. We would both need luck, wouldn’t we? Scarlet and me.

8

SCARLET

This motel was a bit nicer, at least. More up-to-date, comfortable. The pillows weren’t lumpy, and the mattress was nice and firm without a groove worn into it by countless other bodies. There was a convenience store on the other side of the parking lot where they sold fresh sandwiches and fried chicken and an endless array of snacks and treats for me to gorge on and soothe my nerves. Really, things could have been worse.

It was amazing the things I’d tell myself to make up for the anxiety tearing me apart.

It had only been one full day. That was it. I called Grayson on arrival, the way he told me to, and now I waited. How did the old song go? The waiting was the hardest part. Ain’t that the truth.

I picked up a few magazines at the store, but I’d already read them cover to cover. I had a tablet with plenty of books downloaded on it, but I was afraid to turn it on. Could somebody track it the way they could track my phone? I didn’t think to ask Grayson, and I didn’t want to call with a question like that. He might get annoyed. I needed him too badly to risk pissing him off. It wouldn’t be too much longer before he came back. I could wait until then.

But what if he didn’t? What if Dominic stopped him somehow?

As always, the question made my stomach ache. It didn’t matter how I told myself not to think about it or to even entertain a possibility. It was always there, lurking, waiting to catch me unaware.

There was nothing to do but wait with a wad of cash in the motel room’s safe, trying to distract myself to pass the time waiting on a man. Just like Mom always used to.

The thought made me wince at my reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink, my brush pausing midway through running down the length of my still-unfamiliar brown locks. They were darker thanks to my recent shower, still hanging wet around my face. If it weren’t for the box color changing my appearance, I could have been looking at her.

She was always waiting for a man to save her. She never needed to say it out loud for me to understand. I might not have when I was a kid, only vaguely aware of how sad and lost grown-ups could be.

When I got older, I understood the pattern better. The days or even weeks of joy—brighter spirits, music playing in the morning while she ran the vacuum, the way she would sing softly while washing dishes. She would walk around the house with hot rollers in her hair, telling me she was getting ready for a special date that night. The very late nights or even early mornings when she would come home smelling like alcohol and a man’s cologne.

And then the late nights would be fewer and farther between. Sometimes, she would get ready to go out but never leave, holding fierce, whispered conversations behind her closed bedroom door. The damn thing was so thin I could hear every word…

“But you promised. That’s not what you said. What am I supposed to do now?”

The tears.

That was when things went well, when they ended amicably. More than once, it hadn’t been that way. Like the morning I got up for school to find her holding an ice pack over a black eye.

Always, the pattern would repeat itself. After a few months of hearing her swear off men forever, I would come home to find her humming, playing music, almost dancing around the house. I would know she found somebody new, and I would make a bet with myself on how long the good times would last.

How did I wind up repeating her mistake? It had only happened once, but once was more than enough to leave me here, miles from home, sitting on a bed in a motel in the middle of nowhere, waiting to be rescued by a stranger whose violence terrified me almost as much as my arousal did. Because he did arouse me, much more intensely than Dominic could ever have dreamed of, and it scared the hell out of me.

“Would you be proud if you saw me now?” I whispered to the otherwise empty room, where an old movie played on the television and did nothing to soothe the ache in my stomach and chest.

The ringing of the burner phone startled me into almost falling off the bed. I must have drifted off because there was now a different movie playing, and the light beyond the closed curtains was almost nonexistent. How had that happened? Fumbling for the phone, I answered breathlessly. “Hello?”

“I’m a few minutes away,” Grayson informed me. The sound of his voice, or the obvious strain in it, made my skin prickle in apprehension. “What room are you in?”

“Room ten,” I said, scrambling off the bed and going to the window to peer out. It was almost nightfall. The road beyond the motel had been chock-full of cars earlier, but the traffic had thinned out some. “Is everything okay?”

The silence I received in response didn’t do much for my racing heart. Something went wrong. What else could I expect? “I’ll explain when I get there.” He ended the call without another word, twisting me up inside. Well, he’s alive. That has to count for something.

But was Dominic? A tingle ran down my spine, and I immediately chastised myself. He was vile, he had hurt me, but that didn’t mean I should wish him dead. I couldn’t let go of who I was and what I believed because of him. He had already done enough damage without withering my humanity too.

Headlights swept over the pavement. Is that him? It had to be, the sleek Lexus rolling to a stop a few doors down from mine. Still, I waited, holding my breath until the door opened and Grayson stepped out.

Holy shit. He was wearing a suit. Just when I thought I had adjusted to how hot he was, he had to go and do something like that. He looked a little rumpled, with a necktie hanging loose, the top button of his shirt open, and his hair mussed like he’d been running his fingers through it. I gripped the curtain in my fist, my heart pounding for a very different reason this time.

Get it together, you idiot! I was in this mess because of a man, and now, I was practically drowning in my drool over another. A man with a very dangerous temper. When would I learn? I managed to calm myself down before Grayson reached the room and knocked softly. His dark eyes crawled over me once I opened the door, and I immediately wished I had put on something nicer than an old T-shirt and yoga pants. How was I supposed to know he’d choose now to show up? Even so, his narrowed eyes and flared nostrils made me feel exposed. I might as well have been naked.

And I didn’t hate the feeling.

“So what happened?” I whispered as soon as he was inside. Now that he was back, sweet relief flooded my veins, pumped faster by my grateful heart. “You said you were going to get things worked out. Did you?”

His exhale brought to mind a bull preparing to charge. “In a manner of speaking.”

That didn’t bode well. The hope that was so close to blooming in my chest fizzled. “Oh.”

Just like before, he peered through the window. “Only taking precautions,” he told me as I watched him. “I drove around for an hour before finally heading this way, making sure I wasn’t followed. That isn’t even my usual car,” he added, referring to the black Lexus he’d arrived in.

I was starting to understand, and I didn’t like it one bit. “Do you think he’s following you now too?” I whispered, my eyes instantly filling with tears. What was I expecting? For everything to magically work itself out? Yes, I realized that was exactly what I’d hoped for—he would come to me and tell me everything was over, and Dominic was going to let me go. How did I expect Grayson to work that out? I didn’t have the first clue, and now I was ashamed of myself for being so painfully naïve. Again.

“I’ve got to ask you.” He stripped off his suit jacket, though, with the mood I was in, I couldn’t bring myself to admire the effect. All it took was severe disappointment to murder my libido. “You had to know who he was, or at least the sort of person he was. Garibaldi, the name had to be familiar.”

“Right.” I knew this was coming, even though I hoped he wouldn’t use it against me. He might not have come out and done that yet, but it was inevitable. “This is all my fault for hooking up with the wrong guy, right? That’s what you’re saying.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m saying,” he muttered, but I wasn’t fooled. Guilt was written across his stupid face, drawing his brows together. “It’s only that I have to wonder how a person who seems intelligent would willingly walk into a relationship with a mafia captain.”

Snapping my fingers, I retorted, “Wouldn’t you know it? He didn’t have it printed on his business card.” He rolled his eyes, scoffing, which only made things worse. “I wasn’t thinking about that when I met him. I told you I was overwhelmed, dazzled. My mom died when I was fourteen,” I blurted out before stopping to think.

His eyelids fluttered. I’d taken him by surprise. “Oh.” If he was surprised by that, I couldn’t blame him. It sort of came out of nowhere.

“My point is, life’s been kind of hard for a long time. I went straight to work as soon as I aged out of the system. So I’m sorry if having a man walk into my life who could instantly make my problems go away looked pretty damn appealing. But come on,” I invited. “Let’s start blaming the victim. By all means.”

He still had the nerve to heave a sigh. “That’s not what I meant. I only asked a question.”

“A loaded question.”

“Whatever you say.”

It wasn’t until he hit me with a hard, penetrating stare that I remembered I was basically tap dancing on a field of landmines. What was the alternative, though? Cowering forever in case he decided to lose his temper on me? I had to believe he wouldn’t, or else what was the point of any of this? How could he possibly help me?

The deep, shaky breath he took before slowly releasing hinted at that temper simmering under the surface. “To answer your question, yes,” he replied. “I didn’t want to put it that bluntly, but yes. I’m at the top of his shit list now, which means we need to get on the move.”

“It means what?” I squeaked. “Are you serious?”

“No, I’m in the habit of saying stupid things for no reason. Yes, I’m serious,” he snapped. “I have a safe house around Lake Tahoe. We’ll stay there and figure things out.”

“Together?”

“What part of this are you not understanding?” he asked with a withering glance that made me flinch. Now I knew why his hair looked so tousled—he raked it back from his forehead with his fingers once, twice, gritting his teeth as he did. “You should know very well. Tell the guy he’s not going to get what he wants, and he decides what he wants is your head on a platter. So yeah, I hate to tell you this, but you’re stuck with me for a while. Better get used to the idea.”

It wasn’t the idea itself that freaked me out. I didn’t hate the idea of having someone to protect me. What I did hate very much was the need for it. “This isn’t going to end, is it?” I whispered with a sinking heart.

“It will end. Everything does, eventually.”

“Wow. That’s comforting,” I spat, throwing my hands into the air, barking out a disbelieving laugh. My head was going to split open if my chest didn’t explode first. “I get to spend the rest of my life running away from that son of a bitch all because he refuses to let me go! He probably doesn’t even want me, but he hates that I left. I’m going to spend the rest of my life staring out of motel room windows, looking to make sure he didn’t find me. Paying for everything in cash, using burner phones. What the fuck is the use of any of this?” I shouted.

He absorbed this without moving. He might not have blinked before asking, “Are you finished?”

If anything, his placid reaction was gasoline on the fire of my despair. “No!” Tears spilled over, hot and bitter, rolling down my cheeks. “You should have handed me over! What is the use of living if this is all there is? I can’t have a life of my own. Damn him!”

In a fit of rage, I picked up the magazines from the store across the lot and threw them around the room, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. “To hell with him!”

When I picked up a pillow and threw it at the television, Grayson stepped in, grabbing the other pillow before I could throw it. “All right. Let’s not wreck the room and gain attention.”

“Fuck you!” I could barely see him for the tears now, blinding me, pouring down my cheeks, clogging my throat. “Fuck this room! Fuck all of it!”

“I understand how you feel⁠—”

“Understand?” That was the most absurd thing of all. “You don’t understand shit! You know what this means. My life is over! And all because of him. And now you were drawn into this too. Fuck!” My voice broke until I could do nothing but croak when I wanted more than anything to shriek.

I didn’t realize he was holding me until his arms made it impossible to move mine, pinning them to my sides before I could lash out and hurt him. Because I was hurting. I was breaking, shattering, crumbling into dust. There was no end in sight. No real safety, no solace. Nothing but running, hiding, and misery.

And hating myself most of all. I was just like her. Maybe I deserved what I got.

“Listen to me, dammit.” Grayson’s words cut through my heavy, hysterical sobs, reaching a place in my mind that was quiet and could still understand reason. “This is not forever. I will get you out of this, but I need you to trust me.”

“How?” I lifted my head, ready to laugh in his face at the idea until the face in question was close to mine. Until he filled my world with his nearness, warmth, and strength. To put it mildly, it took the wind out of my sails, leaving me almost limp in his arms. “How would you do that?” I whispered, lost in his eyes, unable to breathe because of the way he was looking at me.

The warmth I found in those dark depths mixed with something cold and hard. Like he was two people in one body, the man I had watched brutally beat a stranger and the man who now held me close because he wouldn’t give me to a monster he knew would hurt me. Because he wanted to protect me. He had to know there was no way I could ever pay him back, but then he hadn’t asked for that. I didn’t know people like him existed.

And it did something to me, something it shouldn’t have, something I needed to stop here and now because I knew better, didn’t I? I couldn’t let myself get lost in him. I might never find myself again.

“Like I said…” His jaw hardened, the words coming out from between clenched teeth. “I know what I’m doing. I am going to end this, and I need you to trust me. Can you do that, Scarlet?” he whispered, searching my face, weaving a spell around me.

I didn’t want this.

I had to fight.

I couldn’t allow myself to blindly trust ever again.

But dammit, it felt good to let go. To believe. To be held.

And that might have been the most dangerous part of all.

Somehow, my brain connected with my body long enough that I nodded my head. “Yes,” I whispered. “I can do that.”

He sighed, a brief smile lighting his face and turning it into pure art. “That’s what I want to hear.”

Then he blinked rapidly, frowning, releasing me before letting out a shuddering breath. “Now. Let’s get moving. I brought replacement plates for your car. I’ll change them out, but we’ll leave it here for my guys to pick up and store in a safe place closer to home. After that, we ride together. Understood?”

I could hardly keep up, still foggy, confused by the undeniable reaction to him. When he looked my way, his gaze sharp, I nodded my response. “Good,” he grunted. “Get your shit together. It’s time to move.”

I didn’t know where he came from or what twist of fate brought him my way. I only knew I had never been so grateful to anyone in my life.

Or so apprehensive because it was much too easy to lean against someone as strong as him.

9

GRAYSON

I’m a better man than I was.

I’m stronger than this.

Then why the fuck was I jerking off in the shower for the third day in a row ever since arriving at the safe house with Scarlet?

Closing my eyes, one hand against the wall, I released a deep groan while my hand slid up and down my rigid shaft. I could almost see her in front of me, imagining her silky hair sliding through my fingers while I guided her head up and down. I could feel her plump lips wrapped around me, her mouth hugging me, her tongue flicking the bundle of nerves under my head.

Yes, yes, faster. My fist tightened, my strokes quickening as I sank deeper into my fantasy. I imagined her head between my hands, held still so I could take control and fuck her pretty face. My blood hummed at the idea of using her, controlling the pace, the depth, and dragging choked, gagging sounds from deep in the back of her throat.

And she would look up at me, our eyes meeting. I could almost hear her moans ring in my ears along with the rapid drumming beat of my heart. She would love it, wouldn’t she? Having my cock in her mouth, letting me use her. She would work hard to make me come.

That wouldn’t be enough. It never was, not even in my fantasies, not even when my heavy balls were so ready for release. No, I would need her pussy, and it would be wet, so fucking wet. My body trembled as the feeling intensified while thoughts almost too filthy to imagine played in my head like my personal porn. Her eyes were wide and dazed. Her tits bounced with every sharp, punishing stroke. What color would her nipples be? Dusty rose, I decided, my strokes quickening. I would bend, lower my head, take one between my lips while she scraped her nails down my back and screamed my name.

So close, so fucking close. And her pussy would tighten, squeezing me, hungry for my cum which I splashed across the shower wall. Again and again, painting the dark tile with the evidence of my desire. I came until my knees shook and my head spun, and there was nothing left in me but regret that I’d ever gotten into an impossible situation.

After rinsing off the wall, I finished showering and stepped out of the stall. For a quaint cabin in the woods, the interior was surprisingly comfortable, including a renovated bathroom and kitchen. There was still only one bedroom, meaning I’d spent the past few nights on the sofa in the living room. I preferred it that way, making it possible to hear footfalls on the porch’s creaking planks. There hadn’t been any so far.

Not that my sleep went unaffected. If only. I was used to it since Jack had connected me to old friends in the personal security business and years spent working cases like this.

After working many cases and endless nights spent sitting up the way I had lately, it had finally occurred to me that getting a group of skilled professionals together and acting as a liaison between them and the clients was a much smarter, easier, and more profitable business model. One I implemented and has been the reason for my success.

In other words, I was out of practice when it came to this kind of shit duty. Meaning it took an abundance of caffeine to clear the fog from my brain in the morning. The aroma of fresh coffee reached me as I dried off in the steam-filled bathroom. There was something nice about having the coffee already prepared by the time I finished my morning routine.

The promise of coffee and breakfast left me quickly wrapping the towel around my waist and opening the bathroom door. Scarlet’s voice registered on my awareness a beat too late when I had already begun to stride from the room. “Breakfast is almost⁠—”

Her voice faded to a croak before she stopped dead in her tracks a few feet from where I stood. It didn’t take a mind reader to interpret what was behind her fair cheeks going pink once she took in the sight of me. Her mouth fell open before her head snapped to the side, her hair swinging over her shoulder. “Sorry. I thought you were getting dressed in there.”

She thought it was awkward, catching me in a towel? Her face would burst into flames if she had the first idea what I’d done in the shower and what had gone through my head while I did it. “I don’t like getting dressed with all the steam in the air,” I gritted out, fighting to push those fresh memories aside or else attack her. With my fists clenching, I muttered, “My clothes are in the bedroom.”

“Of course.” She scuffed the floor with her bare toe. “Breakfast is almost ready. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

“Great,” I grunted, drinking in the sight of her when I knew I shouldn’t. There were things I was much more interested in than breakfast. For starters, once she turned away and made the quick walk through the living room and into the kitchen, the sight of her lean thighs disappearing under a pair of cutoffs that cradled her ass was a vision capable of inspiring a dozen needy fantasies.

I stood still, fists tight, taking a steadying breath to hold me back from acting on those fantasies. I might have lost the battle if I hadn’t come only minutes ago. There were limits to a man’s abilities.

Rather than keep her waiting and wallowing in embarrassment, I dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt, then joined her in the sun-drenched kitchen. On hearing me approach, she turned from the stove with a brief smile. “Scrambled eggs and toast okay, I hope? We’re going to need more supplies if there’s any hope of sticking around here without starving.”

“I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.” I poured my coffee, then sat at the table, where she’d already set out plates and utensils. Almost like there was anything normal about this situation—stuck together, jerking off like my life depended on it, wasting hours in front of the television while waiting for others to pull plans together for me.

It didn’t help that my dick kept reminding me there were plenty of pleasurable ways to pass the time, either.

“Can I ask you something?” She scooped fluffy eggs onto my plate before adding two slices of wheat toast. Without waiting for my response, she asked, “What’s changed?”

“Excuse me?” I asked while she emptied the skillet onto her plate and returned it to the stove.

“You’re different. Don’t pretend you’re not,” she insisted before I could say a word, sitting across from me, busying herself with buttering her toast, deliberately avoiding my gaze. “I don’t expect us to be friends, but every day it seems you’re a little angrier, and I can’t decide if you’re angry with me or what. Did I do something wrong? Because I’ll stop whatever it is.”

Yes. She had done everything wrong, from looking so fucking delicious in a pair of cut-off shorts to looking so eager to please me with this breakfast. Smelling as good as she did, smiling like she did when I entered the room. Tempting me, making me yearn.

Making me fight tooth and nail against going back on everything I thought I knew about myself. About the man I was. What I was capable of. There were times these past couple of days when I had to walk away from her, to go outside to put space between us. I did push-ups until my shoulders burned, crunches until my abs went almost numb from the strain. It was enough to make me keep my hands off her, but how much longer would it work?

I wasn’t angry with her. I craved her with every breath and could only fight that craving for so long before my control snapped.

This needed to end.

At the moment, those big, innocent hazel eyes stared holes through me, searching for answers I was in no way able to deliver. “Everything is the same as it was,” I replied. It sounded insincere to me, and she took it hard, wincing a little. “What do you want me to say?” I asked, lifting a shoulder, pointedly ignoring her pained expression because it was better that way. One of us had to remember boundaries existed—the kind that could never be crossed.

“I don’t know. Sorry. I ask too many questions.” Fuck, why did she have to sound so defeated before she turned her attention back to her plate?

How many times had Dominic spoken to her that way?

My skin crawled at the thought of acting like him. “There’s a lot on my mind,” I explained, trying to be gentle for her sake. She wouldn’t look at me, instead pushing food around on her plate with her fork while her teeth bit into her lip hard enough that I was ready for her to start bleeding any second. “I’m a little stressed. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“No, if there’s anybody you should take it out on, it’s me. I’m not trying to fish for a kind word,” she assured me. “I’m not. It’s the truth.”

“Don’t do that to yourself.” Taking a forkful of buttery, flavorful eggs, I grunted happily. “This is good. Really good.”

“I eat when I’m nervous.” She looked down at herself and snickered. “It’ll be a miracle if I don’t bust out of my clothes.”

What a shame that would be. Okay, I needed to shut that shit down immediately. My dick was going to start chafing if I didn’t stop stroking it every chance I got. I averted my gaze, taking more food, my free fist clenched under the table.

“I have to make some phone calls today,” I announced between mouthfuls. If I were lucky, there would be some positive developments to tell her about. There needed to be. I wasn’t sure what I would do if there weren’t any. How far could a man’s self-control stretch before it snapped? A dangerous proposition, one which I didn’t want to test. As it was, I could hardly stand the sight of her opening her mouth to insert the fork. I was that fucking pathetic, so hard up that the most innocent actions left me yearning.

“Is that your way of telling me to get lost?” She wasn’t sour about it. She could roll with the punches. Yet another thing to appreciate about her.

“I’ll step outside,” I suggested. “I’m not trying to send you to your room like you’re a kid getting punished.” Oh, damn. Now I had that idea in my head. Punishing her, tying her to the bed, making her regret… what? Being so fucking irresistible? It wasn’t her fault I was a weak-willed little bitch.

I had no choice but to shovel the rest of breakfast into my mouth and get up from the table, but her sweet fragrance insisted on following me to the sink. No wonder Dominic couldn’t handle the thought of losing her.

Well, there was one way to kill a hard-on. The thought of him touching her. Exploring. It turned my stomach and left me splashing my face with cold water once I’d washed my plate and utensils. “Thank you for breakfast,” I offered on my way to the front door, which opened onto a deep porch overlooking the surrounding landscape.

Fresh air. That was what I needed most.

Stepping outside, I sucked in one lungful of air after another, willing myself to clear my senses of the effect her light, floral perfume had on my dick. Slowly, the throbbing in my groin subsided along with the tightness in my chest. It was a beautiful day, but then it usually was beautiful in this part of the world. A brilliant blue sky almost seemed to mock the darkness swirling in me. I resented the sunshine, lack of clouds, and birds singing while a soft breeze rustled the trees. It was a perfect, flawless day. I would have preferred a storm.

Drake answered on the second ring, all business as usual. “Checking in?” he asked.

“As usual. Tell me you’ve got some good news.”

“Come on. You know me.” I did, which was why I relied on him so heavily. “I talked to my guy. It’ll take some cash, obviously, but building her an entirely new identity is not outside the realm of possibility. He could have her documents created in a matter of days. Birth certificate, Social Security number, driver’s license, the whole deal.”

“Did I ask for good news? That’s great news.” Granted, I hadn’t run the idea past her yet, but beggars were in no position to be choosy. At the moment, this looked like the only option—adopting the identity of someone long dead and making a life for herself somewhere far away.

Otherwise, we would be stuck together indefinitely, unable to return to our lives. That was not a possibility. I couldn’t get the woman out of my head after only a few days in close quarters. How the fuck was I going to last the rest of my life without breaking down and forcing her to lie across the kitchen table so I could eat more than scrambled eggs?

“All is well out there?” he asked, pouring ice water over my fantasy, and not a moment too soon since I was already starting to thicken at the idea of eating her pussy.

“Absolutely.” Did I sound convincing? Then again, this wouldn’t be a party under any circumstances. “Looking forward to getting back, though.”

“Life could be worse.” At the moment, I couldn’t imagine how. We made plans for him to get back to me by the end of the day with a timeline on new documents for Scarlet.

She wouldn’t like the idea of starting over, but she wasn’t in a position to make those choices. The safest way to get through this would be to start a new life. Dominic wouldn’t follow her across the country. A girl working in a small town on the East Coast would completely fly under his radar.

The real question was, where would I go from here? There would still be a target on my back. It was one thing for Scarlet to start over, but that possibility did not exist for me. I wouldn’t run.

I had already run away. I turned my back on everyone and everything I ever knew. There were still times I wondered if Dad would have let me live, knowing what I knew if I hadn’t been his son. If Mom wasn’t waiting at home. It was bad enough I had cut ties and moved out on my own when I was eighteen, refusing to speak to him again without offering her an explanation beyond me not being able to follow him into his line of work. Her heart had already been broken.

There were still times I wondered if she knew. Women in that world understood the value of looking the other way, but only a fool would believe they didn’t see, hear, and understand. It was for her sake he had let me live. It might have been for her own sake that she’d pretended not to understand why I left.

Thinking of her made me give her a call. It had been more than a week since I’d last reached out, and she might worry if I went too long without checking in like I regularly did.

If only she’d known what he was really after. Would she have passed on the message?

Her pleasure at hearing my voice was a spear to my heart. A part of her had been untouched by the ugliness in which she lived—no matter how nice it looked on the surface, there was rot and disease beneath. But she had remained loving, sweet, and supportive. In a way, Scarlet reminded me of her, with her bright smile and eagerness to please after all the shit Dominic put her through. She hadn’t gone into great detail, but I didn’t need her to. My imagination could fill in the blanks.

“I was thinking about you this morning. Dominic stopped by yesterday to say hello to me and Dad. He’s looking good.” She paused, then added, “He asked about you. He gave me the idea things didn’t go well with whatever it was he needed help with. You boys couldn’t work it out?”

It would be a miracle if my heart did not burst out of my chest. If I didn’t crack my teeth, clenching them as tightly as I did to hold back a scream while pacing the porch. Motherfucker. Going to my mother. Digging for information.

“No, we couldn’t,” I told her, struggling to sound less murderous than I felt. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“I hope not. I remember when you two were young.” Fondness hung heavy in her voice. “Thick as thieves, always. More like brothers than friends. It’s a shame what happens over time, isn’t it?”

“People grow up. They change.” Or they thought they did. I thought I had. I had tried to convince myself for years. I couldn’t have changed much if the idea of murdering that son of a bitch was still so tempting. I could see it in my head, clear as anything. Blowing him away with a smile on my face, knowing I was doing the world a favor.

“Besides,” I grunted, bringing myself back to the present moment. “I have other friends now. Good friends. Life turned out pretty well.”

Yes. Pretty well. Hiding with a woman whose very presence unlocked every dark impulse I used to think was beyond me. My control was at an all-time low and getting worse by the heartbeat.

I needed to hurt something. Someone. I was going to explode if I didn’t.

“I better go,” I announced after another minute of torturous small talk, promising to call soon. “One more thing. Don’t tell Dominic we spoke. Can you do that for me?”

“Of course, honey.” She knew better than to ask why, after more than thirty years married to my father. We ended the call on a somewhat pleasant note.

I then spiked the phone off the wood under my feet, relishing the way the plastic shattered, wishing there was more I could break if it meant venting my rage. I wouldn’t use it anymore, anyway—there were several in the car. It was never safe to use the same phone for long in a situation like this.

I hadn’t known seething, burning rage like this in far too long. I had forgotten what it felt like.

How all-consuming it was.

How good it felt.

How energizing.

If I weren’t careful, all of the work Jack had put into shaping my future would go to shit. Before much longer, the darkness would consume me.

10

SCARLET

The tile floor is hard, unforgiving. My body jolts when I land, the impact slamming through me and making my joints scream in protest.

What did I do this time?

I watched the change come over his face. Watched his eyes go hard and empty. Saw his expression turn stony before his mouth twisted in an ugly, hate-filled snarl before he shoved me hard enough to send me sliding across the foyer floor.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, looking through my mail?”

The mail. I only stopped at the box to pick it up. I didn’t even sort it or throw away anything that looked like obvious junk. I left it in a neat pile on the table to the right of the front door after coming home from shopping. “I didn’t touch anything!” I whimper, throwing an arm over my face when he stomps my way.

“What did I tell you about my privacy?” He takes hold of my hair and pulls my head back so he can scream in my face. “Didn’t you learn last time?”

My body goes numb.

He’s going to hurt me.

He’s going to like it.

“No! No, no, stop!”

“Scarlet!”

“No! Get off of me!” My fist made contact with something warm and hard, unyielding, like silk-covered granite. I pounded against it again and again, but it was no use. I had to get away. I was an animal, panicked, screaming, and clawing. I had to hurt him before he could hurt me. Again.

“Scarlet! Goddammit, stop!”

It wasn’t Dominic’s voice shouting at me now. This voice was different—deeper, stronger, resonating through my ice-cold body. Slowly, so slowly, reality began to seep in once again. Like smoke sneaking in from underneath a door. A dream. A vivid dream, a memory, but it was the past.

Not now. Not this moment, a moment in which I sat up in bed in a dark room with a pair of strong, powerful hands holding my arms to my sides. Hands that shook me briskly, hard, but not violent, but enough to wake me fully from the thick, foggy sleep had wrapped me in.

It wasn’t Dominic holding me. It wasn’t Dominic now leaning in, searching my face, demanding I shake off those wretched words still ringing in my ears…

“You stupid bitch. Who do you think you are? Do you know who I am? Do you know what I could do to you?”

“Grayson?” My voice was an ugly croak after all that screaming. My protector, my savior, and I had blindly attacked him like a feral animal. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

He slowly released me, hesitating like he was afraid I would take a swing at him again. Instead of doing that, I combed my twitching fingers through my hair to push it away from my sweaty forehead. “I’ve had worse,” he replied with something like a rueful chuckle running under his words. If he could laugh, he wasn’t too annoyed—for the first time in days. Thank God for small miracles and all that.

There was a scrunchy on the nightstand and a bottle of water, too, both of which I used. The water helped soothe my throat a little, but it did nothing to ease my guilt and embarrassment after freaking out like that. Geez, what would he think of me? Did I even want to know?

“That sounded pretty nasty,” he observed, lingering near the side of the bed. There was nothing but a thin strap of moonlight flowing in from between the curtains, but it was enough for me to make out his chiseled form. So he liked to sleep in nothing but a pair of soft cotton pants. His broad chest and thick arms were on display, along with rippling abs that made my mouth go dry. He was enough to push away the lingering residue of my nightmare and leave my heart fluttering instead of racing.

I realized he was waiting for me to say something while I was busy staring at him, wishing my eyes would adjust to the darkness a little faster. “It was. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“I don’t sleep very deeply on a good night.” It wasn’t so much what he said as what he didn’t say. Obviously, he was not having good nights because of me.

No, because of Dominic. I needed to stop blaming myself. I didn’t ask for any of this. I couldn’t blame myself for it.

Easier said than done. “I’m embarrassed you saw me that way.”

“Don’t be,” he offered. My breath caught when he perched on the edge of the bed. “Everybody has nightmares. Not everybody has as much reason for them as you do.”

He was being kind, and God knew my life was short on kindness lately, but my pride reared up at the worst possible moment. “Don’t treat me like a victim,” I whispered. No matter how much I felt like one sometimes.

“I didn’t think I was.” He scrubbed a hand over his brown hair, making it stick up in random spots. Blowing out a sigh, he added, “I’m only saying you’ve had enough to be afraid of in real life. Nightmares are natural.”

He thought he knew everything I had to be afraid of. He didn’t understand the half of it. “What I’m really afraid of is turning into my mother.” There. I’d set it out loud, and the world hadn’t come to an end. That had to count for something. Some of my greatest shame was out in the open, and it didn’t kill me. The darkness helped. Secrets were easier to share in the dark.

“What do you mean?”

This part wouldn’t be so easy. I cringed inwardly, closing in on myself, wishing I had never said a word. Wouldn’t it have been nice if I could have asked him to forget it?

I could have lied, told only part of the truth, and left it there. I had carried this around inside for so long, though. The weight was heavy, dragging me down. As tempting as it was, the idea of covering up my lingering doubts and fears, the idea of freeing myself was better.

“I’m not exactly sure how she died,” I whispered. “I mean, I know how. Just not how it all happened. There was never an explanation. All I know is she went out one night, supposedly with a boyfriend, and she never came home.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. In the darkness, I couldn’t make out his face, but I heard sincerity in his voice. “You are not going to end up dead over this. I want you to know that.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant, but thank you,” I was quick to add. I was so grateful he was listening to me, giving me space to feel what I felt, that I wanted to make sure I didn’t offend him. I had already hit and scratched him tonight. There was no need to make it worse.

Settling in with my back against the headboard, I explained, “She always picked the wrong men every single time. I swear, she couldn’t have done much worse if she had deliberately set out to choose men who would hurt her. And always, she swore never again. She was never going to let another man use her or walk all over her.” It was amazing how intense the disappointment was all these years later.

“You made one mistake,” he reminded me. “People make them all the time.”

“Yeah, but this was a pretty big one.”

“I’m not going to argue with you on that.” Was that humor in his voice? I wished I could see him smile. He had a nice smile, but he didn’t wear nearly enough. “You know, you are not the only one who worries they inherited all the wrong things from a parent.”

“Really?” I knew so little about him. This would be the chance to learn something, to maybe feel like I was at less of a disadvantage.

Not to mention how much I wanted to know him better. We spent so much time together, locked away in this cute but cramped cabin, but he was still a mystery. Maybe I was hungry for a connection. Maybe I was hungry for him.

Twisted, probably.

Yet another mistake,I couldn’t help it.

He blew out a long breath before releasing a soft grunt. “I told you before that I knew Dominic. We were friends when we were kids. Our fathers… they were not good men.” There was a well of emotion just under the surface of his words, straining, wanting to come out. How long had he practiced keeping himself together, hiding his thoughts and feelings?

His head tipped back, and he looked at the ceiling. Every silent moment that passed made the air in the room a little thicker and harder to breathe. With another sigh, he explained, “I left that life when I was eighteen. I knew I couldn’t be part of it. Hypocrisy, backstabbing, hiding deadly thoughts behind an empty smile. I had watched it all my life, but one night it all came together, and I realized I would end up like them if I didn’t get out while I could.”

Dominic hadn’t gotten out. He had turned into the man Grayson had decided he didn’t want to be.

“A good friend of mine took me under his wing when he didn’t have to.” He continued, “He did what he could to mentor me. For some reason, he got the idea I have decency in me.”

“You must…” I blurted out. “Because you didn’t give me up to Dominic.”

“There’s a difference between knowing what’s right and wrong and being capable of acting on it.” Moonlight traced his profile when he angled himself toward me. My heart couldn’t take much more, but the sudden rush of heat in my core was a real problem. There I was telling myself to stop making Mom’s mistakes while I was basically drooling over the man in front of me. “I knew it was right to keep you away from him, obviously. That’s not the problem.”

The pause he took almost killed me—he had me hanging on his every word, every move.

“It’s what I’m wrestling with day to day, sometimes minute to minute,” he confessed in a voice dangerously close to a growl. “I have to wonder how much of me is what I’ve learned and how much was born in me.”

For the hundredth time, I remembered the beating he handed out in the employee parking lot. It felt like so long ago, like another girl had laid there on the ground and watched him land blow after blow. There was definitely something unhinged about him that night.

Now, I understood. He was letting go of whatever constraints he’d placed on himself, maybe for the first time in forever. That would explain how satisfied he seemed when he stood above that man and stared down at him. He felt good. Strangely enough, looking back, I felt good about it. What does that say about me? What kind of person am I? For once, somebody got what was coming to them, and I was lucky enough to witness it.

It was crazy how an opinion could change with time. But then my opinion of Grayson had changed too. All it took was getting to know him a little.

And wanting him the way I did. God help me.

“Does it matter that I think you’re a good person?” I ventured in a soft voice.

“What else are you going to say?” he asked with a snort that made me wish I’d kept my mouth shut. “We’re trapped together. You depend on me. Of course, you’re going to tell me I’m good.”

“You’re not being fair to yourself.” What was it about him that made me so determined to prove him wrong? He was no child. He could think for himself without any help from me.

So why did I lean closer? Instead of slapping at him, punching him, I touched a hand to his shoulder, hesitant, unsure. I may as well have been touching a warm statue. He didn’t twitch a muscle.

Until he did, his head snapping to the side so he could glare at me in the darkness. “You shouldn’t do that,” he warned, his deep voice making me shiver.

“Touch you?” I asked. So why didn’t I take my hand away? If he shook me off, I wouldn’t have fought it.

Only he didn’t. He remained still, even when I pressed my fingers against the unyielding muscle under his warm, smooth skin.

“Scarlet…” There was something almost desperate in the word. Like a strong, deadly current under the surface of a beautiful body of water. Powerful enough to sweep me away if I were brave enough to wade out. Or stupid enough.

When I didn’t move, he closed a hand around mine. A hand with so much power behind it, yet his touch was soft—a caress. “I don’t think you understand. You are what makes me fight what’s in me, sometimes minute to minute. The last thing you need is a man like me getting in the way of starting a new life.”

The idea curdled my blood the way it had when he first mentioned it—starting fresh with a new name. “I don’t understand what one thing has to do with another,” I insisted, trembling with need, swept up in the breathlessness of the moment, the feeling we were standing together at the edge of a cliff.

“I’ll have to understand for both of us, then.” But he didn’t get up, did he? No, he leaned in, and I would swear my heart stopped beating when his other hand cupped my cheek. Yes, my soul sang. Finally.

“And there you were, saying you didn’t want to make another mistake,” he whispered, his breath warm when it hit my face.

My head snapped back, my heart sinking as his words hit home. “Are you serious?” I pulled my hand away, wiping it on the blanket like that would do anything to erase the memory of touching him. “How could you say that? I opened up to you, and you threw it in my face.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” He drove his fist into the mattress with a grunt. “Goddammit. I’m trying to help you.”

“Oh, is that what you were going for?” I scoffed. “Helping me by reminding me of the shit choices I’ve made?”

“What part of this do you not understand?” All at once, his hands were on me, cupping my shoulders, shaking me like he did before. Then, he was trying to wake me up. Was that what he was doing now? “I am the last thing you need. Dominic and I might wear different masks, but so much of us is the same. I am fucking killing myself to keep my hands off you. All that darkness. You saw what I’m capable of. I’m trying like hell to keep you away from it, and you insist on… on…”

The last thing I heard was a groan before he pulled me in hard enough that our mouths crashed together, and the whole world tilted on its axis.

My gasp was lost against him, my helpless body stiffening in surprise that quickly melted under the heat that exploded in my core and wiped everything else away. I could taste the mouthwash that lingered on his firm lips as I drank in one kiss after another, desperate to take all I could get after craving this for days. Maybe from the moment I set eyes on him. I now had what I wanted, and I would savor every second.

One of his hands left my shoulder and cupped the back of my head, sinking into my hair, holding me in place while his tongue thrust into my mouth and set my blood on fire. I let him take control, not that I had a choice. Not that I wanted to. Not now, alone with him on this bed, with his bare skin under my hands once I clung to him.

When he pushed me back, I went with it, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of me. My back arched as he settled his weight over me—my body was that needy for contact with his. His chest brushed my hardening nipples until they were ready to tear through my tank top, and the sensation made me whimper and part my thighs, silently begging him to ease the ache he had started.

And through it all, he kissed me, his tongue probing my mouth while his hardening dick pressed against my thigh. Fresh heat tightened my core and made me move against him, hooking a leg around his body to pull him closer while my fingers ran through his hair. “Fuck,” he grunted once the kiss broke, his lips grazing my chin before sliding down my throat. “Oh fuck. What are you doing to me?”

What was I doing to him? He was the one doing this to me, making me need him. If it was a mistake, I didn’t care. I wanted to feel, touch, explore, and listen to his deep, primal grunts in time with his insistent grinding against my leg. So big. My pussy clenched in anticipation.

My heart dropped again once he went still, then pushed himself off me, cursing under his breath until he was on his feet. “Dammit,” he spat as I sat up, dazed, my head spinning. I wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. We had hardly started.

“Why?” It was a stupid question, but also the one ringing out the loudest. Why stop now? I had never wanted anything or anyone more in all my life.

“I tried to tell you.” Now that my vision had adjusted to the darkness, I clearly saw the way his chest and shoulders heaved, and his fists clenched and loosened at his sides. “This isn’t happening. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Does he think he’s being noble? I wanted to tell him not to waste his time, but I couldn’t find the breath. Besides, I was too busy forcing my body to remain still when I wanted more than anything to throw myself at him. I wanted more.

“I’m going out to the couch now,” he announced, still breathing hard. “You’re safe. Go back to sleep.”

That was the last thing I wanted. “Stay with me,” I whispered. His strangled groan told the story of a man fighting with himself. I wasn’t helping. I didn’t care. “Please. Stay here with me. Don’t go back out to the couch.”

Through gritted teeth, he argued, “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“You don’t have to touch me. I just don’t want to sleep alone. I swear, that’s all it’s about. Don’t make me sleep alone. Please.” Like I wanted to prove my point, I scooted to the other side of the bed, leaving plenty of room between us. It might have been the hardest thing I had to do lately, which was saying something because life had been a series of hardships.

His fists clenched again before relaxing in time with his weary sigh. “All right. If it helps you sleep.”

“Thank you.” My body hummed with anticipation as I stretched out, rolling on my side to face the window. Even though this couldn’t go anywhere, that didn’t mean I could ignore the thrill of the bed shifting under his weight. It would have been the most natural, normal thing in the world to roll over and curl my body around his, which meant I had to fight that much harder against the impulse. He was right. I could see that, even as my body longed for more than the sneak preview his kiss had given me. I couldn’t ask for more for both our sakes.

Funny how I asked him to stay with me so I could sleep since it took forever to calm my racing thoughts and finally relax. By the time I started to drift off, I wondered if he had managed to do the same.

Something told me he hadn’t.

11

GRAYSON

Things were different in the days after the kiss.

There was something freeing in not having to pretend anymore.

The cards were on the table.

We hadn’t spoken of it—the cold light of day made certain topics more awkward. Once one day passed, then another, I decided it made the most sense to forget the whole thing. It seemed like she agreed with me. Aside from a few moments when our eyes would meet and desire uncoiled deep in my gut, we were able to get through the day without repeating the mistake we made that night.

Though it hadn’t felt like a mistake at the time. Nowhere close. Which was what made it that much more dangerous.

How right it felt.

How necessary.

Just as necessary as sleeping next to her at night.

She kept to her side of the bed, and I kept to mine, only reaching out to nudge her when it seemed like she was having a bad dream. Scarlet had them a lot, probably more than she knew. It never took more than a few gentle shakes to pull her out of it. Once or twice, she spoke, and to my surprise, it wasn’t Dominic’s name she mumbled. It was Mom. She was talking to her mother, warning her. Don’t.

It wasn’t my problem. I was here to keep her alive, a job I was succeeding at while my business ran without me. “You keep saying you’re going to go on vacation,” Drake had reminded me when I bitched about being so far away from the action.

Some vacation. Sightseeing and outdoor activities, I didn’t feel safe entertaining any of them. Not for my sake, but for hers. What were the chances Dominic would track us here? Could I afford to take that risk? Until she was safely tucked away in some little nowhere town, living an entirely different life, I would not feel comfortable doing anything even semi-normal.

And then what? What would happen to me with the Garibaldi crew most likely out for blood at their boss’s orders? I could worry about myself when the time came.

A week had passed at the cabin by the time I reached out to Jack on a fresh burner, figuring he might want an update. He was probably waiting for one. I had kept him hanging for too long after we parted ways in the parking lot where, for all I know, Dominic had still been screaming at me for turning my back on him.

As usual, his voicemail picked up. Retired men could afford to sleep in.

“I wanted to give you an update,” I explained, walking the length of the porch and back again. I had my workout outside, wishing for the freedom to go for a run, still anxious at the idea of leaving her alone for too long. I’d settled for chin-ups using a sturdy tree limb, push-ups, burpees, anything I could think of to punish my body into forgetting the feel of her body beneath mine.

“Everything’s going smoothly,” I told him or rather his voicemail. “Nothing to worry about. It’s actually sort of domestic in a twisted way. We could be on vacation. I can see why you always talked about wanting to retire out here. Of course, nothing is restful about it, and I’m ready to tear the walls down with boredom, but things could be worse.”

Scarlet was in there, behind the closed door. Like it was that easy to shut her out. I glanced into the cabin on my way past one of the two windows looking over the porch. She was in the kitchen, her ponytail swinging while she wiggled her hips to a vaguely familiar, catchy pop tune she was whistling. Hips I longed to hold onto while taking her hard, fast.

“She’s handling things well,” I croaked, shaking myself free of that sudden flash of lust. “My guys are working on arranging a new identity for her. She hates the idea, but she’s smart enough to understand there’s no other way.” That didn’t mean she liked it. Whether or not she liked it was not my concern. Certain things had to be done, and this was one of them.

“I know I did the right thing…” I concluded before adding, “… even if it’s torture in some ways. But we can talk more about that when it’s over, and I come back. I need to figure out between now and then what I’m going to do about my Dominic problem. If you have any ideas on that, I would love to hear them.”

Because at the end of the day, it was all well and good to play the hero, but eventually, the time would come to settle up. I wasn’t about to go on the run like Scarlet would. If I couldn’t find some way to placate him, an option that was getting less likely by the day, it might come down to a simple choice—him or me. The last thing I wanted was to take it that far, but the son of a bitch might decide to force my hand. I couldn’t ignore the possibility.

The tension building in my head, making my pulse pound, was a warning sign. I had to bring myself under control. I couldn’t let her see my hatred. Things were difficult enough for her without adding something new to be afraid of.

I would have to revisit the subject of her new identity over breakfast. She had to get used to the idea. The thought inspired me to call Drake for an update on timelines. Most of the documents would be prepared by now, at least according to the rough estimate he’d given me. When I called, he answered right away. “Just the man I was hoping to hear from this morning.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much,” I replied with a chuckle while watching two squirrels chase each other up and down a tree trunk. When was the last time I took a few minutes to observe something like that? “Tell me you have good news. I’ll digest my breakfast much better.”

“Everything's moving along. We should have all of the documents within a day or two. After that, it’ll be a matter of transporting her safely.”

So why did he sound so troubled? “Is there something you’re not telling me? I can hear it in your voice.”

“Have you checked the news from out here?”

“Not this morning.” A cold finger traced the length of my spine. “Why?”

“When I got in, there was an anonymous email in the main inbox with a link to an article published overnight. We’re trying to trace the source now.” Pausing, he added, “There was no message beyond the subject line. It read, A Friend of Grayson’s.”

I touched a hand to my suddenly tight chest as if that would do anything to ease the sensation. Why is he dragging his feet this way? “What’s the article about?”

“A retired detective was discovered northeast of the city, off Las Vegas Boulevard. Shot execution style.”

There were moments with the power to change the path of a person’s life. Like the night I’d decided to follow Dad after he left the dinner table with no explanation. I watched in confusion as he exited the front door of the random house I’d tracked him to, a gas can in one hand. He struck a match, lit it, and tossed it inside before bolting down the front steps.

That moment was when I knew for sure what sort of person he was—a man who would murder his supposed best friend. I could never trust him. I could never be anything like him.

This was another of those moments. The world around me went dark. Cold. Blank. This time, when I touched a hand to my chest, it was to make sure my heart was beating. How could it with so much weight crushing it?

“Grayson?” Drake asked. “You still there?”

“I’m here.” But was I? Physically, maybe. I saw the world around me, the brilliant blue sky and fluffy white clouds piling on the horizon. Scarlet’s whistling inside the house blended with the birds singing, creating a harmony that might have been pleasant at any other time.

“They identified the body,” Drake continued. “His wallet was in his back pocket. The name is⁠—”

“Jack Meadows,” I said. The words were heavy. Full of certainty.

He released a soft groan. “So you did know him.”

Past tense. Somehow, that was the worst of all—hearing Jack spoken of in the past tense. And there I was, assuming he didn’t feel like answering his phone. I had left a voicemail for a dead man. “Did they say how long he’d been out there?” I asked rather than answer Drake’s question. I didn’t need to.

“No, there were no details about that, but I can look into that if it would help.”

What could it help? No amount of digging would bring him back.

Dominic. He killed him. He fucking killed him.

“I’ll be back in touch soon,” I muttered before ending the call, reeling, leaning against the railing on the edge of the porch. I forced myself to breathe as deeply as I could to keep my head clear and from keeling over as shock rolled through me in wave after wave.

He fucking murdered Jack to send a message to me. The man who had been more of a father to me than Dad ever was. Endlessly patient, infuriatingly understanding, and look where it got him. All of his insistence that I could be a better man than I was raised to be, and he had ended up dead in the desert after some heartless bastard had him killed.

Scarlet’s startled gasp when I flung the front door open barely registered in the back of my mind as I headed for the bedroom, where a small notepad full of phone numbers waited in the nightstand drawer. Using burner phones meant I couldn’t keep a single list of electronic contacts. If it had been only me, I would’ve used my cell, but I still had to keep her in mind. I had to take every precaution.

My hands shook hard enough as I punched the number in that it took three tries to dial it correctly. Though the number would have come up with no ID, Dominic answered without a hint of suspicion. “This is Dominic Garibaldi.”

“You mean the soon-to-be-deceased Dominic Garibaldi?” I muttered, closing the bedroom door silently, gritting out every word.

He didn’t seem surprised, knowing the news would reach me. He’d been waiting for this call like a spider sitting in the center of a web. With a snicker, he asked, “Oh, you got my invitation?”

“What invitation?” I snapped.

“I invited you to come out and play. I assume that’s what this call is about.”

That’s how he wanted this to go? Fine with me. “I’m afraid you might not know exactly what you’ve done.”

“Let me see. I looked at the footage from outside the restaurant where we had our unfortunate meet-up. I noticed you talking with that old man. I looked up his car registration, did a little research. I think I know exactly what I’ve done,” he concluded. The motherfucker had the nerve to sound cheerfully smug. What I wouldn’t give to have him in front of me so I could wipe that smugness off his face.

Half-blind with rage, I snarled, “He had nothing to do with this. He was a fucking civilian.”

“A detective,” he replied.

“Retired, and you fucking well knew it.” He’d been looking forward to retirement for so long. There wasn’t nearly enough time for him to enjoy it.

“These things happen,” Dominic informed me with a sigh, almost like he meant it. After all, he had a whole lifetime of pretending to be somebody he wasn’t—somebody with a soul. “Maybe he should’ve been more careful about who he associated with. A man like him, coming from his line of work? He had to understand the dangers of aligning himself with a fucking traitor.”

“I’m going to make you regret this.” It was the only thing I knew for sure to the depths of my soul.

“Is that a threat?” he asked in a light voice.

“You know exactly what it is.” Standing at the window, I gazed out over an idyllic landscape yet saw nothing in front of me but carnage. “I’m going to be there when you take your final breath. I’m going to watch you reconsider every shit decision you’ve made in your life. The last thing you’re going to see is my face.”

“Well, there’s only one way to see whether or not that’s going to happen,” he replied, his voice now cold, devoid of humor. “You have to come out of hiding, pussy.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Why don’t you find out?” He hung up, leaving me with nothing to do but throw the phone across the room while a cry of pure rage tore its way out of my chest. Jack. I had underestimated that bastard, and he had killed Jack. I might as well have pulled the trigger myself.

“Grayson?” Scarlet’s wary voice rang out on the other side of the door. “What happened?”

“Leave me alone,” I warned, barely short of a shout. “I mean it. Don’t come in here right now.”

I was afraid of what I might do if she did. The guardrails were off now. No holds barred. Losing Jack meant losing whatever decency he saw in me.

I would never be anything but a liability to her.

Better she find that out now.

12

SCARLET

It was the silence that woke me up, strangely enough. The lack of another person’s breath in the room. Grayson must have floated out of bed if he was able to make his escape without me noticing. I wasn’t sleeping deeply, always dreading the next nightmare about Dominic or Mom.

Rolling over to face his side of the bed, I touched a hand to his pillow. It was cool. He had been up for a while. Should I leave him be? Part of me knew it would be better to stay where I was after the fit he threw earlier in the morning. He never did tell me what it was all about. He only left the bedroom looking like he was ready to kill someone, then spent a lot of time sitting outside on the porch. The few times I had dared peek out at him, I found him on the steps, staring out at the mountains, so still I wasn’t sure he was breathing.

He didn’t have to say a word for me to know it would be a bad idea to bother him. Instead, I spent the day worrying, wishing there was something I could do, knowing it was probably about me. He didn’t even say much when he got into bed after spending most of the night on his laptop, scowling at the screen. He was a mystery. A very angry, very appealing mystery. Maybe I really was doomed to be attracted to all the wrong men.

It was that attraction that got me out of bed and made me tiptoe to the door. Opening it slowly, I listened for any signs of movement in the cabin. He wouldn't walk out and leave me here alone, would he? He didn’t even do that in the daytime—he was always within my line of sight.

I inched out of the room and into the darkness, shivering a little in my tank top and shorts. There was something beautiful and eerie about being out here without the city lights that had always been part of my life. The only light filtering into the cabin came from a three-quarter moon that was barely bright enough to illuminate Grayson’s form. He sat in a high-backed armchair, facing the window, looking out to the porch. What was he watching for?

My foot hit a squeaky floorboard, and I cringed, holding my breath before he briefly looked my way. He said nothing, turning his gaze back toward the window while I asked myself what the hell I was supposed to say.

Naturally, I settled on the dumbest possible choice. “What happened? Was I snoring?”

I was kind of hoping he would chuckle, at least. Instead, his complete lack of a reaction made goose bumps cover my arms. The most he did was clench his jaw, making that thin scar twitch. Where had it come from? I wanted to ask so many times but didn’t have the nerve.

I also wanted to back out of the room without another word. Instead, I asked, “Can I get you anything? Do you want something to drink?”

Without looking my way, he muttered, “Go back to bed. Everything is fine.”

Yeah, it looks that way. How was I supposed to believe him while he sat alone, staring out the window? That was what hurt the most, even if I didn’t understand why. The fact that he was alone. How long had he been that way? Not just tonight, but so many nights?

My heart pulled me closer to him instead of letting me back away. “Why are you sitting here if everything is fine?” I whispered. The night air was so chilly, making me rub my arms as the cold floor seemed to leach the warmth from my body.

“I have a lot on my mind.”

“Do you feel like talking about it?”

“What do you think?“ His jaw tightened, his gaze still fixed. Staring out the window into the darkness beyond. What did he see there?

“Am I in more trouble? I wish you would tell me,” I pleaded softly. “I know something has changed. I’m going crazy trying to figure out what it is.”

“For the last time.” He spoke slowly, deliberately. “Everything is fine. Go back to bed.”

I should have. It would’ve been the smart thing to do. Something wouldn’t let me. It didn’t feel right. “To do what? Lie there all night to wonder and worry?”

“There is no point in telling you because it won’t change anything.”

“You don’t know that. It could help you get through whatever this is. That’s all I want to do.” Couldn’t he see that? He was so damn frustrating. I would have screamed if I thought it would make a difference. “I owe you more than I could ever repay. All I want to do now is help you in any way I can. I’m here to listen to whatever it is. Give me a chance.” Let me in. Let me help you like you’ve helped me.

He kept me waiting, hanging on his every breath until finally his shoulders sank like he was defeated. “I told you about someone in my life who helped me through the dark times. He helped me learn how to be better.”

“I remember.” How could I forget? The entire course of our awkward, charged relationship had pivoted the night he woke me up from that vivid nightmare.

I watched, afraid to breathe in case I ruined the moment. His shoulders rose and fell before he hung his head. “He’s dead. I found out yesterday morning.”

No wonder he freaked out like he did, sounding like a bull had broken into the bedroom. It would have been a lot easier if he had just told me so I wasn’t walking on eggshells all day afterward, but I could understand why he didn’t. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, knowing it wasn’t enough but also knowing nothing ever would be.

After a moment of silence, he added, “He was murdered. It’s been all over the news out there. I read the articles and gained access to the preliminary police reports.”

It had to be the late hour. My brain wasn’t moving fast enough. When I finally caught up to the horror of what he was trying to tell me, I covered my mouth with my hand. “Oh my God.”

“Aren’t you glad you know?” There was something almost twisted in the way he asked and then snickered like he was laughing at me. “Will it help you sleep better now that you know?”

“But you don’t think⁠—”

“I don’t have to think. I know.” Releasing a shaky breath, he explained, “I was on the phone with your ex before you heard me losing my shit. He didn’t bother denying it.”

“Oh, Grayson.” A wave of real, physical pain ran through me and brought tears to my eyes. “I am so sorry.” It all sounded so empty because it was. Words couldn’t change anything. Dominic had found Grayson’s pain point, and he had pressed hard the way he used to do to me.

“I underestimated him. This is on me.”

“How can you say that? You didn’t do anything.” It was obvious my presence was the last thing he wanted, but that didn’t change anything. I had to comfort him. Why? I had no idea. Maybe because I felt his pain, his loss. Whoever this person was had meant the world to him and had changed Grayson’s life for the better. It broke my heart to think of him sitting here, suffering silently, trying to be stoic while he was crumbling inside, whether he would admit it or not.

I took a tentative step toward him. His sharp intake of breath froze me in place. “Stay away,” he muttered through his teeth.

“But—”

His hands rested on the arms of the chair. I watched them tighten until his knuckles stood out and his arms trembled. “What part of this is so difficult for you to understand? I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

I couldn’t believe he meant it.

Maybe I just didn’t want to believe it.

By the time I reached his side and lowered myself to one knee next to the chair, I was more determined than ever. “I know this is going to sound stupid, and maybe it is, but I felt so much better when I finally opened up and told you about Dominic and my mom. I really did feel lighter. You don’t have to carry everything around inside you.”

The only thing that moved was his eyes, finding mine. In the faint moonlight, they practically bore holes through me. There was something in them I had seen before in the parking lot after destroying that man’s face. Darkness swirled in them—something dangerous, maybe deadly.

I should have fled from that look, but I couldn’t move. “You can talk to me. About your friend, about anything you want.” Please. Open up to me. Trust me.

He snickered, lifting a shoulder. “I was sitting here, wondering if Jack was wrong about me all these years. Telling me I could be better than the people I grew up around.” He was breathing heavier, harder. There was a storm building in him. It chilled my blood, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t leave him. He already felt so alone. I knew what it meant to be alone.

“I believe you are good.”

“You don’t know me at all,” he fired back. “You don’t know how I’ve fought all day to stay here instead of going back there to murder that son of a bitch for what he did. The idea is the only thing keeping me from losing my shit.”

Staring at me, he muttered, “That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to kill him. That bastard is going to die for this.”

The thing was, I believed him. At least, I believed he was serious. Whether he would go through with it, I couldn’t say.

He was right about one thing… I didn’t know him.

“Either way, he wins,” he concluded. “Either he gets away with killing the only thing keeping me from falling over the edge into the darkness, or I blow his brains out and go over the edge anyway. I’ve been sitting here, trying to come up with reasons not to do that. The best thing I can come up with is knowing how disappointed Jack would be. But then Jack’s dead, right?”

“It’s up to you who you want to be,” I insisted. For once, the sight of his bare torso didn’t distract me, not when he was so clearly suffering. The torment in his voice made my chest ache. There was a wall between us, and I would have given anything to break it down.

“After today, I have to wonder if I’ve been fighting a losing battle,” he admitted.

All I did was brush a finger against his. That was all it took for him to fling my hand away and jump to his feet. I was so stunned that I almost fell backward but managed to grab the arm of the chair in time.

“Don’t you understand what I’m saying?” He was wild, shouting, the sound filling the cabin while I shrank in fear. “Stay away from me! I’m trying to keep you away from him. Why the fuck would I let you get too close to me? It would defeat the entire fucking purpose. Because we’re the same, don’t you get it? I am no better than he is!”

A single tear rolled down my cheek, hot and bitter. He wasn’t Dominic. He could never hurt me so viciously. He wouldn’t control me, lock me away, isolate me from the rest of the world. He wouldn’t lash out with a slap or a closed fist. I wasn’t afraid to let him touch me. He didn’t make me flinch when he came too close. No, I wanted Grayson to come closer. He was the one pushing me away.

“Oh shit.” Slamming a fist into his other palm, he bared his teeth. “This is what I’m talking about. Do you get it now? This is all I’m capable of. I want to hurt something. I need it more than anything.”

Rising slowly, trembling, I met his gaze. Why am I doing this? Something beyond my reach was forcing me to. I had no other choice. “I know you won’t hurt me, which is why we’re here now. You’ve already shown me who you are, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

His jaw ticked. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Dark, burning eyes traveled over my face while his chest rose and fell almost as rapidly as mine. I wasn’t afraid. Not of him.

Not even when one arm shot out so his hand could wrap around the back of my neck. He held me that way for a single heartbeat, his fingers tightening, tendons popping on his neck.

Then he pulled me in the way he did before, making me crash against him. He claimed my mouth, and I was too happy to let him, parting my lips to invite his tongue inside. God, he was so strong and overwhelming, holding my head in place with one hand while he plundered my mouth and wrapped his other arm around me. It was like a steel band crushing me to him, stealing my breath and the will to resist. Not that I wanted to resist.

This time, there was no holding back. The darkness I saw him in wrapped itself around me, pulling me deep into an unspeakable sensation. When my hands slid up over his chest, I felt the heavy beating of his heart under my palm, racing the way mine did.

Grayson pulled his head back, breaking the kiss, his breath hot against my face. “Remember,” he growled, sending a shiver up my spine. “I warned you. I tried.”

Then he lifted me off my feet and carried me to the bedroom, where he dropped me onto the bed without explanation, not that I needed one. Not when my body burned for him, when my pussy flooded and throbbed. I reached for him, hungry, desperate, and he lowered his body over mine so my hands could slide over his exquisite body. His muscles bunched and flexed as he ground his thickening dick against me through his pants. I didn’t know it could be like this. I didn’t know my body could leap into life like a flame at the simplest kiss.

But there was nothing simple about this and the way he claimed my mouth again, bruising my lips before painting my skin with his tongue. I threw my head back, silently begging for more, and he delivered by lapping his way down my throat and making me burn. It was the sweetest fire, enough to make me moan, whimper, and writhe against him. I needed more—all of him.

Wrapping my legs around his ass, I pulled him in, jerking my hips in desperation. The pressure in my pussy was already too much, bordering on pain, demanding relief only he could deliver. “Please…” I whined, arching my back when his mouth traveled over my chest to catch my nipple through the cotton top. Grazing it with his teeth, it sent white-hot bolts of electricity straight to my clit.

Clearly, that wasn’t enough for either of us. Pushing himself up on his knees, he yanked the tank top over my head in one quick motion, then held my arms over my head with one hand while he bent to suck, nip, and draw one broken cry after another from deep in my core. There was something almost scary about the way he feasted on me—no tenderness, no gentleness.

He wanted, and he took.

And I gave.

“Yes, yes,” I moaned, his hands now sliding down my sides as he kissed his way down my stomach. When he reached my waistband, he wasted no time pulling it away from my skin, taking it along with my thong. The faint scruff on his cheeks chafed my skin when he ran his face over my thighs, marking them with his teeth, parting them once I was naked, exposing all of me.

I opened my eyes, panting for breath, watching him stare down at me. Every ragged breath he took made the tension in my core that much more unbearable until there was nothing I could do but raise my hips like some wanton slut. Inviting him, no, begging him.

And I was rewarded when he descended all at once, covering my pussy with his mouth, driving his tongue into my folds without any preamble or taking the time to ease me into it. Who needed to be eased? I was already aching, dripping wet, ready for him.

Fireworks exploded behind my closed eyes. How was it so good? Every inch of me hummed, buzzing, while his greedy tongue invaded my most private places. He pushed it inside me, lapped up to my clit, circling it while I damn near lost my mind. It was almost too much. When I pulled back a little, trying to ease the intensity, he took me by the hips and held me still, forcing me to take it.

And all the while, he grunted, pleased with my pleasure, working harder the louder I shouted. “Yes!” I cried, riding his face as sensation drowned out everything else. “Yes… oh!” I couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much. He was trying to kill me.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take another second, the wave crashed, submerging me in blissful oblivion. Waves of relief rolled through me, turning my limbs to jelly. My heart was still pounding out of my chest by the time my eyes opened. He was searching through one of his bags and finally came up with a foil packet he wasted no time opening.

I watched his every move, my breath quickening again as he lowered his pants and boxer briefs to unroll the condom over his rigid dick. My eyes traveled down the length of the chiseled, V-shaped muscles leading down to what I had known would be long and thick from what I had already felt pressed against me, but seeing it was a whole other story. I wet my lips in anticipation and maybe a little apprehension. How is that supposed to fit inside me?

His thick thighs parted mine once he crawled onto the bed.

Magnificent. That was the only word for him. This living God wants me. The thought alone was enough to stir fresh, throbbing heat in my pussy as he lowered his body over mine. His wide, swollen head probed at my slit until he took himself in one hand. “You think you can handle this?” he grunted, sliding through my wetness until I whimpered, nodded, and dug my nails into his firm shoulders.

All at once, he pressed against my entrance and worked his way inside, his eyes closing, his mouth falling open. Oh my God, that is too hot. I angled my hips to take him deeper, wrapping my legs around his body to lock him in place as he stretched, filled, and claimed me an inch at a time.

“Tight,” he whispered, his head dropping to my shoulder once his balls settled against my ass. I pressed my mouth to his shoulder, his neck, tasting the faint saltiness of his perspiration, feeling his pulse race under my tongue while he got himself under control. He was straining, his body tensed until the urge passed, and he pushed himself up on his forearms.

The first strong, deep thrust made my eyes fly wide open.

“Jesus,” he grunted, slamming into me again, setting the tone and pace. So that’s how he wanted it. “So tight. So fucking sweet.”

I barely heard him over my helpless moans and high-pitched whimpers every time his body slammed against mine and drove me a little closer to oblivion. Something deeper than pleasure built inside me. Something wild. Forbidden. When he lowered his head to cover my mouth, I scraped my teeth over his bottom lip, making him hiss.

Our eyes met, and the flash of light I saw in his told me yes, he wanted that. My legs tightened, nails raking his back as he pounded harder, deeper, rocking the bed until it squeaked. I grit my teeth, breathing raggedly like he did, clutching him tight while my mouth touched everything I could reach. “Fuck me,” I whispered in his ear before biting the lobe, moaning when he rewarded me by moving faster. It was glorious, perfect, and so much more than anything I had imagined, our bodies working together, giving and taking.

He quickened his pace, and I went with him, letting him fuck me almost brutally until pain edged the pleasure and made me jerk my hips in ecstatic abandon. Close, so close, my orgasm was just out of reach.

“Tighter,” he grunted between strokes as he lost his rhythm, and I lost my mind, screaming as he took me higher, higher, so high⁠—

“Yes!” I cried out only once, arching against him as I came hard enough to make my ears ring. Tears sprang to my eyes, and a hitching sob swept through me, making me clutch him tighter than ever in the final seconds before he came.

It was never this intense before, like a floodgate opening and releasing everything I carried in me for so long. All the fear and the loneliness, the pain and sadness all poured out of me until I was empty. Clean.

And exhausted. My body was limp by the time Grayson sighed deeply and rolled away. I was only vaguely aware of him getting up, tossing the condom, and then pulling back the blankets we had laid on top of.

There was something different about him now. He was softer. That cold, deadly edge had faded to something less intense.

“Are you okay?” he murmured once he covered me with the blankets, protecting me from the night chill. “I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“Only in a good way,” I whispered, a little hoarse. “You’re not leaving me alone, are you?”

A brief smile passed over his face before he shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving you alone.” He climbed into bed with me and let me curl up against him, my head on his chest. What I needed more than anything now was his arms around me while I recovered from something deeper and more powerful than sex.

For the first time ever, I felt truly connected.

And it scared me a little because I didn’t know if he felt the same.

13

GRAYSON

As if I needed to make things more complicated.

I watched the sunrise through the bedroom window. The world came to life slowly, the sky brightening, the trees coming into focus as rays of light painted them deep green. Birds twittered cheerfully without a care in the world.

And through it all, Scarlet slept, her head heavy on my chest. Every breath she took tickled my skin. Once in a while, she murmured in her sleep, but the steady rhythm of her breathing didn’t change. I had tired her out.

What the fuck was wrong with me? I did exactly what I told myself I wouldn’t. What was worse, I loved it. Letting go, I poured all of my hate, regret, and rage into her. She gathered every shard of it, each broken piece, and shaped it into something heartbreakingly beautiful—a connection. She wanted to be close to me.

Which made me exactly the monster I told myself I would never be because I knew that was no good. I would only hurt her. I didn’t have it in me to be the man she needed.

And now that I’d had her, I didn’t know how to let go.

Eventually, I had to, in the literal sense.

The alarm clock on the nightstand read seven thirty by the time I had no choice but to gently raise her away from me long enough to slide out from under her. She barely moved.

Why did it have to be so easy to stare at her? The morning light painted her face, turning her skin to bronze. There was now a thin strip of blonde running down the part in her hair that made me wish she had never dyed it dark so I could enjoy its golden gleam.

This isn’t about you, asshole. Pulling the blankets over her, I grabbed jeans and a shirt and headed for the bathroom to get dressed after washing up. She needed all the rest she could get. There was a long day ahead of her.

The news about Jack had made certain things crystal clear. I needed to get her out of here, far away, before doing everything in my power to fuck up Dominic’s world. I was going to hurt him, and I was going to enjoy it in a way I hadn’t enjoyed anything in much too long. Not even the fresh memory of her fluttering pussy milking me dry topped the thought of making him suffer.

She couldn’t be around for that.

Drake had his orders to expedite the arrangements. I’d told him last night to have something ready this morning, come hell or high water.

The gnawing feeling in my gut refused to leave me alone. I couldn’t stomach the idea of never seeing her again, especially after last night. This would have been difficult enough without the knowledge of what it felt like to be inside her and the sweet taste of her skin or the sounds she made as she gave in to ecstasy, how completely she trusted me, and how deeply she slept in my arms.

My dick twitched at the memory, which I pushed aside in favor of brewing coffee and making breakfast. By the time the bacon was crisp, and the eggs were frying, soft footsteps rang out behind me. “Good morning.”

I looked over my shoulder and was relieved to see she’d put on clothes, not that it was easy to forget the way she looked without them. She ran a hand through her hair, teeth grazing her lip like she was nervous. It was touching. “Good morning. Thought I’d treat you after you’ve fed me all this time.”

“It smells amazing. Thank you.” Her gaze was like a butterfly landing on me before darting away again, then returning for another brief moment as she poured coffee. “I’m sorry I passed out on top of you.”

“Don’t be.” When was the last time I had to suffer through a morning-after conversation with a woman? I didn’t normally stick around until morning. This was why.

Eating gave us something to do. I couldn’t help drinking in the sight of her, knowing there wouldn’t be much more of this. The fact that she was forbidden made her that much more appealing. Last night was a mistake, but I’d be damned if I could make myself feel sorry. I knew I should, but the feeling wasn’t there.

Though I made it a point to keep space between us, I couldn’t run the risk of making contact and forgetting what needed to be done today. And touching her always seemed to make me forget everything, but touching her again.

She was gathering the empty plates when I got up to grab my laptop from the coffee table in the living room. “Could you find something to do in the bedroom for a while? Or on the porch? I have a call to make,” I explained, powering up the machine. “Normally, we’d talk over the phone, but Drake is already sending documents via our in-house network. If we’re both going to be on anyway, I’d like to have a little face-to-face time. It’s been too long since I was around.”

I looked away from the laptop to find her frowning. Some of the light left her eyes as they searched my face. “I don’t get to hear what’s happening?”

“The less you know, the better.”

Arching an eyebrow, she spat, “Excuse me, but that’s bullshit. How can there be anything good about me not knowing what happens next? Maybe you think you’re doing me a favor, but you aren’t.”

I saw the truth behind her words, even if it was inconvenient. “You might hear things you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

“I don’t care. What, do you think I’m a child?”

No. Certainly not. She was a woman in every sense. A woman who, even now, when she pushed my dwindling patience to its limits, made me yearn to forget everything I needed to do today and spend hours ravishing her. Her taste still lingered on my tongue after I’d indulged in her musky sweetness, her scent locked permanently in my memory. I wanted more.

She wouldn’t have stopped me, either. Knowing she wanted it, too, made resistance that much more of a struggle. How did I know? The way she kept staring at my mouth and the longing in her eyes. The tip of her tongue ran across the seam of her lips, and I could barely stifle a groan. Why the fuck couldn’t I have met her before Dominic had?

“I know you aren’t a child,” I grunted, snapping her attention away from my mouth. Fuck me, now she was looking me in the eye the way she did last night while I was on top of her, while we⁠—

“Fine,” I decided, sitting in front of the laptop. Anything to break the tension of the moment and focus my thoughts again. She dropped into the chair across from me while I connected to the private network one of my techs had set up years ago for secure communication. Drake was waiting, already logged in by the time I called him. Moments later, his face filled the screen. He was bleary-eyed, a man who’d been working overtime researching likely areas for Scarlet’s relocation.

“I have our friend here with me,” I explained before he could say anything. No, she wasn’t a child, but there were still certain things she didn’t need to hear, like details his contacts might have picked up about Jack. The thought of him lying on a slab was a punch to the gut. Later, think about it later.

“Gotcha.” He cleared his throat, and there was a definite change in his voice when he spoke again. “Everything is in place. All documents have been processed, travel arrangements are finalized. She is ready to go.” He knew better than to reveal anything more than that. We took every precaution, but there was no such thing as being too careful.

The strangled sound that came from her made me look away from Drake. Stricken, she wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed them briskly, wide-eyed, haunted.

“Excellent news,” I murmured as my heart sank. Sure, it was for the best, getting her out of town and taking her protection off my already overloaded plate, but I didn’t have to like it.

I did, however, have to pretend I did for her sake. I didn’t matter in all of this. “I want two men out here as soon as possible to escort her. At that point, I’ll be on my way back. We can discuss the next steps when I arrive.”

“Good enough.” He paused, his brows drawing together. “There’s something else. I got a call to the main number from the medical examiner. It looks like you were listed as next of kin under Jack Meadows’ pension benefits, so they tracked you down.”

Not now. Later, not now. I couldn’t let the feelings in. Pressure already filled my chest and threatened to split my skull. Later, when everything was over.

I swallowed back the burning coal lodged in my throat. “He didn’t have a family. Married to his job, that kind of thing.” That didn’t mean I knew I was his next of kin.

He shifted a little uncomfortably. “They’re looking for someone to claim the body. I’m sorry, but I thought you should know.”

“I’ll have to handle that when I come back. Thanks for the heads-up.” My thirst for blood was more intense than ever. I gripped the table’s edge with both hands, silently withstanding the swirling funnel cloud tearing its way through me. Scarlet, Jack, all of it threatened to blow me apart. “Give me a call when the guys are on the road.”

“Will do.” A look of relief washed over his face before he ended the call, leaving me sitting in profound silence while Scarlet stared daggers at me.

“When were you going to tell me this was happening so soon?” she whispered.

“Soon? We’ve been here more than a week now,” I reminded her, my tone brisk as I pulled up the information Drake sent. It was all in place. She’d receive a new set of papers and cards once my men arrived, and they would escort her on a chartered jet to a small town in Maryland. I would never see her again, but she would be safe there. Safe was all that mattered.

“Dammit, you know what I mean!” Her voice quivered with emotion as she stood the way I did. “Grayson, how can you send me away? I told you I’m not interested in starting a new life.”

“I’m not interested in what you’re interested in,” I shouted back, watching pain etch itself across her forehead. It was necessary. She could hate me all she wanted. She had to go.

“That’s it? It’s that simple?“ She threw her hands into the air before a soft whimper bubbled out from her throat. “You’re just going to send me away?”

“That’s not what this is about. I’m doing it to keep you safe.”

“Safe? Is there such a thing?”

“That’s the point,” I reminded her through gritted teeth. My emotions were much too close to the surface, and she insisted on pushing me further. “He is not going to find you. You are going to take the documents when they get here, you’re going to grab the money you receive, and you’re going to go. Far away.”

“And if I say no?”

“Scarlet, so fucking help me,” I warned, closing my eyes. “You’re pushing me too far. This has to stop.”

Did she listen? Of course not.

“I am through with letting other people decide for me. Don’t you get it? I’m not running away.”

A deep breath did nothing to cool the fire making its way through my veins. Opening my eyes to find hers filling with tears, I explained, “That’s not what this is. Protecting your life is not running away. It’s making the smart decision.”

She wrapped her arms around her trembling body, lowering her head until she stared at the floor. My arms ached to hold and comfort her, but I didn’t dare. “Maybe it would’ve felt that way if I didn’t know anything else about what he’s capable of,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he killed your friend. I mean, he’s going to be after you now.” Her head lifted, a tear dripping from her chin and landing on her chest. “I am tired of him winning. He gets his way no matter what it takes. Running away would be the same as telling him it’s all right to do what he did. It is not all right.”

If only I couldn’t see her point. “Do you understand the additional resources that would go into keeping you safe if you don’t go away?” I asked, searching for a plausible excuse. “How I couldn’t worry only about myself if I had to worry about you too?”

“There’s a pretty simple way to get around that. You don’t have to protect me.”

“Fuck that,” I spat, gratified to see her head snap back. “Not going to happen.”

Her chin lifted as a defiant gleam touched her teary hazel eyes. “That’s your choice, isn’t it? And this is mine. If you drug me and put me on a plane, I’ll come back. You can’t throw me away.” The tears spilled over before she covered her face with her hands.

The fight drained from me, leaving no choice but to round the table and wrap my arms around her. “Is that what you think?” I asked, holding her head against my chest while she shuddered from the force of her sobs. It wasn’t easy fighting back the rage that still bubbled so close to the surface, rage she hadn’t caused. I used to be better at it, but Dominic had erased years of work on my temper by murdering the man who convinced me to get it under control.

It wasn’t Scarlet’s fault either way. I had to remember that. She was innocent. I had no right to vent my anger at her.

Once I had a handle on myself, I murmured, “I’m doing whatever I can think of to get you away from all of this. It’s going to get ugly. He might work harder than ever to find you and make me pay for betraying him.” The idea made my arms tighten protectively even as my blood began to boil all over again.

“Control yourself. Once you master that temper, you can do anything.” Jack’s wise words came back to me and forced me to take a few deep, calming breaths.

“There has to be somewhere I can hide, right? Somewhere close.” Lifting her head from my now-soaked chest, her reddened eyes searched my face for answers. “I could be halfway around the world, but I wouldn’t feel safe without you.

Somehow, she knew exactly the right words to use, words that stirred every protective instinct I possessed. I stroked her hair, my mind racing.

Is there another way? Someplace already guarded with security cameras everywhere and men patrolling in shifts?

Of course there was.

I was going to owe Vaughn a big favor for this.

14

SCARLET

The closer we came to Las Vegas, the clearer and more vivid the memories became. “You’re mine, and nobody touches what’s mine!” Memories I had worked hard to lock behind a heavy door. The screaming. The threats.

Dominic was good at hurting me where it wouldn’t show, but there were times when he didn’t care. The days I’d spent endless minutes gently dabbing makeup over my bruises.

And I was going back there? My stomach clenched before I asked, “You’re sure this is okay?”

Grayson’s soft grunt didn’t inspire confidence. “Honestly? I’m not sure of anything right now.”

It’s not the answer I wanted to hear, but at least he was being honest. At a time like this, the last thing I needed was empty assurances. I had to know the truth, if only so I knew how to prepare for whatever was before me.

At the moment, sitting in the passenger seat of the Lexus, what waited in front of me was the presidential suite of one of Vaughn Eastman’s hotels, sitting on top of his casino. The other casino used to belong to his father-in-law, who, according to Grayson, was about to go on trial for a lot of bad things. I vaguely remembered hearing some of the grim details on the news.

Grayson must have noticed how I couldn’t stop biting my nails—they were chewed down to the quick by the time our seven-hour drive drew to a close—because he sighed when I did it again.

“It’ll be fine. Vaughn has hosted high-profile guests with fairly demanding security requirements. I should know. I provided the security. I’ve already upped their presence throughout the casino at his request, and I will put a few more guys in the hotel to boost your protection. Everything is under control.”

Somebody needed to tell that to his jaw clenched tight enough to crack a walnut. I gazed out the window, working on regulating my breathing as panic clawed at the edges of my calm. I will be safe at the casino. Experience told me how thorough security would be in a place like that, and any place owned by a friend of Grayson’s would be especially secure. He would want to take care of the people in his life. It was sort of his thing.

“And you promise you’ll keep me posted all the time?” It wasn’t until I asked that I understood how much it meant to be in contact with him. After more than a week of being in each other's faces, his absence would be hard to deal with.

“Don’t worry,” he assured me with a brief, tight grin. “If anything changes, you’ll be the first to know.”

That wasn’t exactly what I meant. It wasn’t so much that I wanted updates. I wanted him. All the reassurances in the world wouldn’t mean anything if I didn’t have Grayson with me, but I couldn’t find the words to tell him. I didn’t even know if I should. All I could do was sit there quietly, wishing I was brave enough.

Once we reached the city with the familiar stretch of landmarks spreading out in front of us as we approached the Strip, the nervous nausea that had threatened me ever since we left Lake Tahoe decided to double down and left me gripping my seat with both hands as I fought to hold it back.

“Take it easy,” Grayson murmured, his hand closed over my knee. “You’ll be just fine. Vaughn has the suite ready for you. All you have to do is sit tight for a while. You could do a hell of a lot worse than this.”

He was right. I knew it, but somehow, that didn’t make things any easier because he would be out there somewhere, doing whatever it took to put an end to this. I didn’t know what that might look like. I only knew with complete certainty that Dominic would not give up without a fight. It was a matter of pride and ego. I had insulted him by leaving.

What had I ever seen in him?

Why couldn’t I have figured him out from the beginning?

It wasn’t only my life at stake now.

“You’re not coming with me?” I asked once we pulled around behind the building to the service entrance. Two men already waited by the door, nodding in greeting when Grayson jerked his chin. One of them opened my door before they both took my bags from the trunk, carrying them like they weighed nothing.

Grayson shook his head. “I have business to handle, but I’ll find a way to see you. For now, go upstairs, relax, order room service. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

If I could get what I wanted, he would get out of the car with me, come upstairs, and stay.

But the last thing he needed was me hanging on him.

He had things to do, important things, and my life sort of depended on it. A quick, determined breath helped me stop trembling so much before I whispered, “Just call me, please?”

“I will.” His brows pulled together, faint lines creasing his forehead, and for a moment, I thought I saw something close to regret in his eyes. His lips pressed into a thin line, almost like he wanted to speak but thought better of it. The weight of it all hung there, just barely visible in the tight set of his jaw and the way his gaze flickered past me like he couldn’t quite face me. Or maybe it was just my imagination. I wanted to flatter myself into thinking he looked regretful, but really, he was probably just hoping I would get the hell out of the car and stop bothering him. And that was what I did, dragging my heavy feet as I followed his guys through the door and down the hall leading to an elevator.

It was time to start counting the minutes until I heard Grayson’s voice again. Hope was the only thing that kept me from crying as the elevator car rose.

“Remember,” one of the guards told me on our way up. “No one accesses this floor without a passkey for the elevator. And there will always be someone outside the door. You’re completely safe.”

I reminded myself of that once I entered the spacious, sun-drenched suite, that I was safe. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the Strip, and I knew the view would be spectacular once night fell. A large, sunken living area featured sleek furniture, a huge television, and a fireplace. Beyond that was a large kitchen full of sparkling stainless-steel appliances, a dining room, a study, and even a small gym. There were two regular-sized bedrooms, but the master suite was truly spectacular. The en suite bathroom was more like a spa with a whirlpool tub, a steam shower with an elaborate system of jets and controls, heated floors—the works.

And all I had to do was sit around here and enjoy myself while Grayson worked to save my life. No big deal.

Considering the shape I was in, the last thing I should have felt like doing was sleeping, but the sudden drop of adrenaline left me drained. I had gone from waking up this morning feeling nervous to face Grayson after last night to being told I would start a new life on the other side of the country. Now, I was in the lap of luxury, wondering what the hell would happen next. A nap seemed like the only logical step.

Sinking into the soft bed with its mountain of pillows was like floating on a cloud. I didn’t expect to drop right off, but the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and wondering where the hell I was. Somewhere along the line, the sun had gone down. I had slept for hours and was now disoriented, wondering what day it was, the way long midday naps tended to do.

A knock on the suite door told me what had woken me up. I hopped out of bed and jogged out there, a little shaky with nerves. One of my guards checking in? Peering through the peephole gave me a view of a pretty young woman with jet-black hair who chatted quietly with the guard on duty standing beside her. It had to be somebody he considered safe, which was good enough for me.

Sure enough, when I opened the door, she introduced herself. “My name is Nova Mancini. It’s good to meet you.” She had a firm handshake and kind smile that immediately put me at ease. “I’m Vaughn’s wife.”

“Oh my gosh. Please, come in.” That was kind of unnecessary, considering I was in her hotel.

I stepped aside so she could stride slowly into the suite. Her fitted suit and shining blowout made me feel like a slob in my leggings and oversized tee. When was the last time I had a haircut, much less a blowout? “How has everything been for you today?” she asked. “Do you need anything? Don’t hesitate to ask for whatever it is. It’s yours.”

Funny, Grayson had also said that. “The suite is absolutely gorgeous and so comfortable. I am so grateful.”

“Vaughn and I both owe Grayson a lot. This is the least we can do.” With a gentle smirk, she lowered her brow. “How are you really feeling, though?”

She gave me a tiny nod of encouragement that unlocked my heart. It was a refreshing change to have a girl to talk to. “I’m worried.” Sitting on the sofa, I tucked my legs under me while she sat at the other end. “I feel like I should be doing something, but I don’t know what.”

Her thumb played with the diamond ring on her left hand, which she rotated as she quietly mused. “I’ve sort of been in a similar position to where you are now. Waiting around is the hardest thing in the world, isn’t it? When there’s something so important going on, and there’s nothing you can do to help.”

“Yes!” I agreed with a sigh.

“But I can tell you that is the best thing you can do… sitting and waiting someplace safe. He’s doing whatever it takes right now to get things under control. Waiting is not something I like to do,” she added with a grimace. “But it’s important. If he knows you’re here, with us, he can focus on whatever it is he needs to do.”

I saw her point. “Do you know the specifics?”

She shook her head without hesitating. “No, it’s better that way. He’s kind of big on keeping people protected. And I’m big on making sure people are taken care of, so don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need.”

“I am sort of hungry,” I admitted. I hadn’t eaten anything since the breakfast Grayson made at the cabin. That was only this morning, but it felt like years. I could never have guessed I would end up here before the day was over.

“Please, call straight to the kitchen, and they’ll send up anything you want.” She then pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and frowned. “I have to go. One of our VIPs just checked in, and we like to greet them personally. But again, give me a call if you need absolutely anything at all.”

It was a bummer she was leaving this soon, but we weren’t besties all of a sudden. I was way too desperate for a connection. “Thank you, Nova.” I really needed to learn to get my emotions under control because her kindness made my chest tighten. Pretty soon, I would be blubbering like a baby.

If only I had met people like this sooner—the sort of people willing to be generous, kind, and patient. People who looked out for each other. Mom used to tell me the only person you can trust in this whole wide world is yourself. It was her mantra. As an adult, I could understand where that came from—she had been hurt, burned, discarded. There was no room for hope.

Maybe if I believed in hope, I wouldn’t have fallen for Dominic so easily. I might have believed there was somebody better waiting for me rather than jumping at the first opportunity to be taken care of by a man with money.

It was so easy to look back and see my mistakes for what they were. How cruel that I couldn’t do anything about them now. I flipped through the room service menu, looking for something to eat. My mouth watered at the descriptions of one tasty dish after another before I finally had to make a decision and place the call or spend the rest of my life deliberating.

They promised a twenty-minute wait, so I took a quick shower in the meantime and felt more human by the time the steam subsided. It helped knowing there was food on the way. I was still wrapping a towel around my wet hair when a knock came at the door.

Remember, nobody can get up to your floor without a passkey. Those words, and the presence of a guard at the door, gave me the courage to trot across the airy living room while cinching the belt on my fluffy bathrobe to peer through the peephole. A man waited in the hall behind a cart laden with lid-covered dishes.

A familiar man.

I flung the door open with a gasp. “Grayson!” Forget the food. As soon as he was in the room, I threw my arms around his neck and squeezed, almost delirious with excitement. My heart pounded in my ears as I peppered his cheeks with kisses. I didn’t care if it seemed wrong or if I was going too far. I was too relieved to fall back on all the warnings I tried to give myself about not caring too much about him.

He didn’t push me away—at least not until he started growing against my hip, prodding me through my robe. “There is a lot of food on this cart,” he managed to murmur in my ear, his arms around me, holding me close. “And it would be a shame if it went to waste. I’m starving too.”

Now that he mentioned it, the aroma of my cheeseburger and whatever else he’d brought up made my empty stomach ache. “Let’s eat. Are you here for the night?” I asked, hopeful.

His face fell a little, giving me my answer before he said a word. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” As I watched, he pulled a gun from his waistband, where it had rested against his back, and placed it on the table just inside the door. My eyes widened, and dread skittered down my spine.

It made me ask, “Would you be safe anywhere else?”

He rolled the cart to the coffee table and started unloading the food. My burger and fries looked like heaven on a plate. “I can take care of myself,” he decided while his scar twitched with every tick of his tightened jaw.

Funny how that did nothing to ease my concerns. “Stay here with me. Please?” He didn’t owe me anything, and I had no business asking, but I couldn’t help it. Now that he was here, I couldn’t let him go.

His brows drew together before he grunted, “We shouldn’t fall into the habit, but I’ll think about it.” Then he sat, patting the cushion next to him. “Let’s eat.”

He had also ordered a burger, onion rings, coleslaw, and a giant milkshake. “It’s been too long since I had the chance to eat like this,” he mumbled around a mouthful of beef. “Feel free to take whatever you want.”

“I think I’m good,” I told him, chuckling as I munched on a fry. “I do have a question, though.”

“I knew you would.” I couldn’t tell how he felt about it from the way he said it. There was humor in his voice, yes, but it also had an edge to it. Then again, he was on edge a lot, and there was no secret why.

“How am I ever supposed to repay you for everything you’ve done? Just the amount of money you’ve spent alone, not to mention the time you and your team have put into hiding me.” I didn’t want to think about the total, but I knew it had to be steep.

“I don’t remember asking for repayment,” he replied before taking another bite of his burger.

“But… do you have all the money to be able to do all this?” I asked in disbelief. “You snapped your fingers, and an entirely new life was created for me… a chartered jet, tons of cash, a house on the other side of the country. How can you do all of it without charging me?”

“That’s thanks to Jack too.” My heart seized at the brief shadow that passed over his face. “He always told me one of his biggest regrets was not investing his money, not that he ever made very much of it as a detective.”

I took a bite of my burger and moaned softly. He was right. We’d spent a week eating only what we could cook in the cabin, and I’d spent days before that eating whatever I could get at the convenience store across from the motel. This was a real treat. “But he looked out for you when you started making it,” I observed.

“Make your money work for you, he always said. When I started earning, working with the clients he first introduced me to, he was damn determined to see me put the money to use. He hovered over me, I swear.” He was grinning when he said it, with fondness in his voice, even if he wore a smirk. “I was making a mint, but I was living off cereal and canned pasta because so much of my salary went to investments. But it paid off, of course. Eventually, I parlayed my nest egg into a business of my own.”

“I really admire that.” I admired him. He had come so far. No wonder losing Jack, especially the way he had, drove him to the kind of rage I witnessed only a glimpse of back at the cabin.

“It’s all thanks to him.” Now that he had wolfed down half of his burger in only a few bites, he ate more slowly. “Believe me, I did not learn how to manage money as I grew up. Money was made to be spent.”

I could believe it because that was the way Dominic lived. He threw cash around like he was born to do it, tipping lavishly, splurging at the drop of a hat. More than once, I had wondered if all his wealth was an illusion or whether he was really as well-off as he seemed.

“I’ve invested in my friends’ businesses too,” he added as if it were an afterthought. “My friend, Sebastian Kennedy, owns a restaurant⁠—”

“Sebastian Kennedy? Do you mean the guy who owns Home?” My mouth watered at the thought, even as I chewed my dinner.

“You’re familiar with it?”

“Who isn’t?” I asked. “I’ve eaten there a bunch of times.”

“When he decided to expand rather than open a second location, my friends and I gave him the money after his original investors pulled out.” He said it like it was no big deal. This man who’d left a gun on the table by the door invested his money with a hotshot restaurateur like Sebastian Kennedy. The more I learned about him, the more I realized there was to know.

“You are more than meets the eye, Grayson Daniels.” Though what met the eye wasn’t half bad, either. Everything about him—the way his biceps flexed every time he raised a hand to his mouth, the way the muscles played along his broad back when he reached across the table, his thick thighs straining against his jeans—hinted at how dangerous he could be.

It also reminded me how good he was in bed and how incredible it felt to be held close to his warm, sculpted body.

“I’m going to ask you again.” Kneeling next to him on the sofa, I folded my hands like I was praying. “Please, don’t leave me tonight.” I couldn’t say goodbye twice in one day, especially to the first person who made me feel safe for longer than I cared to remember.

He gestured around us with a fry before popping it into his mouth. “This isn’t comfortable enough for you?”

“That’s not the point. It’s not that I’m uncomfortable. I’m alone,” I said. Pride be damned. Some things were more important than pride, like the comfort of having him in the same room. “And I’ll be worried sick all night about you taking risks out there. Please stay. We can always pretend you slept in another room if you’re worried about what your guys will think.”

He waved that off, frowning, staring at the table where the remnants of our meal sat. “I think there’s something we need to clarify first. What happened last night…”

Dammit. I was really hoping we could skip the awkward conversation where we dissected our night together. Holding my breath, I waited for the rest.

“It shouldn’t have happened.” Releasing a sigh, he sat back, looking defeated. “It was unprofessional. I was wrong to let my bullshit get in the way and make me forget I’m with you on a job. Even when I walked in with the cart, I shouldn’t have held you like that.”

I could see his point.

I could also see another point.

“Why do you have to be professional now?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

He snorted, side-eyeing me. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I haven’t paid you. Nobody has. Nobody asked you to do any of this.” Folding my arms, I smirked. “You’re not on a job for a client.”

It was the funniest thing, watching a man always in control of a situation go blank-faced in surprise. He blinked rapidly, frowning, then barked out a laugh that filled the suite. “Fuck me, you’re right. I’m funding this adventure on my own.”

“You are.” Swinging a leg over him, I settled in his lap. He groaned softly, giving me a disapproving smirk, but he also slid his hands under my robe so he could touch my bare legs. “So that makes you the boss, doesn’t it? You get to set the rules.”

“Watch it, Scarlet.” Gripping my ass, he hauled me in close against his growing erection. Mischief flashed in his dark eyes, and his breath heated my face. “Use words like that, and you might unleash a beast you can’t control.”

“Oh no,” I whispered, untying my belt and letting the robe fall open to his hungry gaze before taking the towel off my head and shaking my wet hair loose. How could this be wrong when it felt so right? “I wouldn’t want to do that…”

15

GRAYSON

“Oh, yes. Right there.” Scarlet’s head rolled from side to side on the pillow, her hair fanned out across the cream satin. Watching her while my tongue moved over her clit had my dick dripping in anticipation of sinking into her tight heat yet again.

What was the point of pretending I could stay away from her? I couldn’t manage to keep away from the hotel, much less her body. It was a waste of time and energy, reminding myself of all the reasons she was off-limits. All the ways I could only hurt her in the end.

Now, in this moment, what she seemed to crave more than anything was me. My presence, my nearness. It seemed my cock was secondary to that. I couldn’t get away with spending a night away from her now, several days into her stay with Vaughn. Sneaking into the building through the service entrance was starting to become part of my daily routine, along with slipping out in the morning once it was confirmed the coast was clear. Nobody was watching.

I had places to be this morning, but at the moment, the only place that mattered was here, now, in bed with Scarlet, making her writhe while I slowly ate her, savoring her aroma and sweet taste. It exploded on my tongue, waking me up like coffee never could, sharpening my senses, narrowing my focus. All that mattered was her pleasure, the way her back arched and her hips moved as she fed me her pussy. “Yes, like that… so good…” She moaned while her hands slid over the sheets before finally coming to rest on the back of my head.

Only for me to take her wrists and pin them to the bed while I took her my way, in my time, holding her down while she squirmed and squealed, lapping slowly against the bundle of nerves that swelled beneath my tongue. Using her moans and whimpers to guide me, I gave her more of what she liked best. I made it my business to learn her and commit her to memory. Soon, memory might be all I’d have left.

Now isn’t the time to dwell on a future we could never have. The thought hit me with a dull ache, settling heavily in my chest. Not now. Now was for making her come, and she was getting closer with every shuddering breath she took.

“Grayson,” she whispered, her hips jerking as she rode my face. “Yes, Grayson.”

A growl rumbled in my chest when she said my name like that, lost in pleasure and begging for more.

Her legs clenched around my head when she came, leaving me to lap up her juices once they started flowing freely. “Gorgeous,” I grunted, lifting my head from her pussy, watching as she glowed in the early morning sunshine. “I’ve never tasted anything so sweet.”

Her lips curved in a lazy smile before she crooked a finger, beckoning me as she sat up. “Let me get a taste of you now.”

Like I would say no. As if any man in his right mind would. Getting up on my knees, I straddled her thighs and moved close enough for her to take me into her waiting mouth. There was nothing like the sudden warmth that enveloped me, the slight pressure as she sucked. Every stroke of her tongue sent white-hot bolts of pleasure running down my shaft. I sank a hand into her hair, guiding her pace.

“That’s right, sweetheart.” Sweeping her hair to the side, I watched her work. “Take me with those delicious lips. All. The. Way. Is that what you want?”

She moaned her response, and the pressure from her tongue heightened, making me close my eyes and grit my teeth against the sudden urge to come. “Slow down,” I warned, chuckling a little. “Or this is going to end real soon.”

It would end soon, regardless if she didn’t stop. I had to pull my hips back to keep from succumbing. “You are way too good to my cock.”

Instead of her lying back while I prepared a condom, I stretched out on my back. “I want to see you ride me,” I told her, pulling her on top of me once I was ready. Wrapping a hand around my shaft, I guided myself to her slick entrance.

And she settled back, taking me inside her, her mouth opening a little wider with every inch. It was magic, letting her guide herself, watching the change that came over her.

And her body! Fuck, I could watch her all day, the way she moved and her tits swayed slightly with every slow stroke. Her head fell back, hair spilling over her shoulder.

I took hold of her, lifting my head to suck her tight nipples while she rode me a little faster with every flick of my tongue. “Oh God, that’s good,” she whispered, grinding against my base, greedy for another orgasm.

And I would give it to her. I would give her everything she could take. My teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, making her whine in approval. “Just like that. You’re so good…” Her breathing matched mine as I tasted and played, finding what she liked and giving it to her until her movements sped up, lost in their rhythm. She rode hard and fast, bouncing until the bed squeaked and our bodies slapped together.

And I went with it, jerking my hips upward to meet her. She was determined to make me lose control this morning.

I was fine with it. I wanted to.

“A little more… so close…” Finally, she threw her head back with a broken cry, a flush covering her body as her pussy began to milk me.

I gladly gave in, my balls draining and leaving me trembling in relief. Yet somehow, that did nothing to deplete me of my desire for her. By the time she rolled off me with a soft groan, I wanted her again.

This was becoming a problem.

Yet when she asked before I left for the morning if I was coming back later, I gave her the only answer that made sense. “You bet. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.” There was no denying her.

My first stop this morning would be the precinct where Jack and I had first made each other’s acquaintance.

I would have to tell Scarlet about this later, walking in for the first time after Jack’s murder. The world looked a little different. I hadn’t thought about it until now, what it would mean to walk into the building where he decided, for some crazy reason, I was worth investing time in. I would tell her about it, she would understand, and I would fall a little deeper into the habit of no longer keeping everything locked inside me. There was something addictive about feeling safe to get things off my chest.

Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, she had worked her way into my soul and now refused to leave me alone. She haunted me, pushed me forward, insisted on driving my actions. Like she’d pointed out the first night back in town, nobody was paying me to do this. I’d made a choice, and I was seeing it through because of her.

Before long, I sat with two detectives who’d worked with Jack for years and respected the hell out of him. They weren’t the only ones, either—the atmosphere around the station was dark and tense. Everyone worked with their heads down, not bothering with the usual conversations around the coffeemaker or questions shouted across the room.

“We have contacts in several of the rival families,” Detective Cameron explained, perched on the corner of his desk with his hands shoved into his pockets. His office was sparsely decorated except for a few family photos on the filing cabinets—pretty wife, cute kids—the sort of family neither Jack nor I had ever given much thought to. “Of course, it’s all a matter of gaining trust and making it worthwhile for these losers to offer up info. We’re in the middle of trying to work out deals with the District Attorney, so we’ll have something to bring to the table, but it’s slow going.”

“And he’s much too smart to take risks, especially now,” Detective Nelson added, blowing out a sigh. She was closer to my age than her middle-aged partner—early thirties at most—but she wore a practiced scowl after years of witnessing the worst of humanity. “He has to know we’re paying closer attention now that he decided to blow one of our own away.”

“So there’s no question he was behind it? I mean, he told me,” I reminded them, my chest tightening when I recalled the conversation. “But you have proof?”

“Unfortunately, no proof,” Cameron admitted. “But word spreads. All it takes is a single leak. It’s an open secret in mob circles.”

“And the other families are none too happy,” Nelson added with a grim smile. “They don’t like that kind of heat. We made it a point to bring a lot of them in for questioning on the case, just to rattle them.”

I could appreciate their tactics mainly because I knew how these guys thought. The more pissed they were at Dominic, the stickier shit got for him. Maybe we’d all get lucky, and some boss or another would decide he was a sick pup who needed to be put down. While I craved the pleasure of watching the life drain from him, I couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Dead was dead, and it was how he needed to be.

In the middle of all of this was the occasional buzzing from my phone. It reminded me of what this was all about, keeping me from going over the edge into total darkness. As it turned out, Scarlet was a prolific texter, and she managed to pull me back into the light. The messages she sent throughout the day brought a few much-needed smiles. While grabbing a cup of coffee, I read her latest.

Scarlet: I’m pretty sure the housekeeping staff thinks I’m a hopeless slut.

Snorting to myself, I replied.

Me: What makes you think that?

Her response came quickly.

Scarlet: I meant to make up the bed before they got up here instead of leaving it all messy like we just had sex, but I completely passed out after you left, and I was naked in bed when they showed up.

I couldn’t pretend the mental image wasn’t fun to consider.

Me: What a shame I wasn’t the one who walked in.

Scarlet: I’m serious! I was so embarrassed.

Me: Scarlet, this is a hotel. In Vegas. I’d bet good money finding a naked woman in bed is a treat compared to what they might find.

As an afterthought, I added.

Me: If it’ll give you peace of mind, no more morning sex.

Her response was a single word.

Scarlet: What???

I left it there, letting her wonder if I meant it or not while I continued working with the detectives and a handful of officers assigned to the case, being brought up-to-date on Dominic’s movements as of late. I was doing everything I could to avoid an errand I’d been putting off for days, ever since getting back to town.

I still didn’t have it in me to go to the morgue and claim the body. What should I do for Jack? It wasn’t like we ever discussed final plans. It never occurred to me.

By the time I texted Scarlet to let her know I was on my way back to her, it was closing in on nine o’clock. I had lost track of time riding around town, staking out a few of Dominic’s favorite hangouts along with the detectives. I wasn’t about to step back and let this one go, and they knew it. Now it was time to compartmentalize and push that shit aside for Scarlet’s sake. If I walked into the suite looking as ready to kill as I felt, it would only scare her. She couldn’t see the hatred or the darkness swirling in me.

Room service was on my mind as I rode up in the elevator, greeting the guard on duty once I reached the door to the suite. Everything was in place. My guys knew what they were doing. I had guided them well because Jack had guided me well. And I didn’t have the balls to claim his body.

“Hello?” I called out once I entered the suite. The television was off, the living room empty, so was the kitchen—I could see it from where I stood. Maybe she was in the shower. The idea stirred interest below my belt and led me in the direction of the master bedroom’s en suite bathroom.

Before I could reach it, I found her sitting on the king-size bed I’d left her in this morning. She sat cross-legged in the center, surrounded by photos. It was the empty liquor bottles on the nightstand that held my attention, though, and half a slice of cake with a candle lying beside it on the plate.

“Did you throw a party without me?” I asked. Was it her birthday? Why wouldn’t she have told me?

She raised her head, her bleary eyes meeting mine. There were tear stains on her cheeks. “Sort of. A birthday party.”

“Not yours, I hope.” Approaching the bed, I added, “I’d feel like a piece of shit for not treating you to anything special.”

She shook her head, then pointed to one of the photos in front of her. “It’s Mom’s. Today would’ve been her fifty-fifth birthday.”

She continued, “She would’ve hated turning fifty, much less fifty-five. Always trying to look younger than she was. She was so pretty,” she whispered, smiling fondly as I leaned down to study the picture she held.

“She was.” In fact, she looked a lot like her daughter with the same hazel eyes, same peaches and cream skin, and brilliant smile. She could have been a model.

“Not that it never got her anywhere. She ended up hooking up with the wrong guy once again, and she ended up dead.” Running a hand under her nose, she added, “You know what the worst part is? I don’t even know exactly why. I mean, I know how, but I don’t know why she was there or how she ended up getting killed.”

Looking up at me through bloodshot eyes, she explained, “They had to use dental records to identify her. But I guess maybe I was too young to get an explanation.”

It knocked the wind out of me. “Jesus Christ.” What the fuck happened to her?

Scarlet’s head bobbed slowly while she held up four fingers. “That’s how many days I waited for her to come home. I tried getting help from the police, but nobody wanted to listen to me. I tried calling the hospitals, but she wasn’t there. Then somebody finally contacted me and told me they identified her.”

“And you told me before you were fourteen at the time?” I asked, stunned. Fourteen years old. All alone in the world. How the hell did she get through it?

“That’s right. No relatives, not even any close friends of Mom’s to take me in. Lucky me.” Slowly, she leaned over until she was lying curled on her side. “Lucky Scarlet.”

This was turning into a very different evening from the one I had in mind. Taking in the sight of her limp, pajama-clad body, there was only one thing to do. “Why don’t we get you tucked in?” I suggested, already rolling her to her other side to pull the duvet free for her to sleep under.

“It’s not fair I didn’t get to say goodbye,” she whispered once her head touched the pillow.

“You’re right,” I agreed. “It’s not fair. It’s fucking bullshit, so long as I’m being honest.” I barely recognized myself as I sat on the bed, careful not to harm any of her mementos. She looked so small in such a big bed, curled in a ball, already half asleep.

She snuggled under the blanket while I stroked her hair, imagining the hell she had been through. “That’s nice,” she whispered, her eyes drifting shut. “Why don’t you get in with me?”

“I have a few things I need to do first.” Like eating, for one thing, and showering after spending hours in the back of Cameron’s cramped car.

“But you’re staying?” Her eyes open, finding me, brows pulling together.

“I’m staying,” I assured her, watching relief take hold before she relaxed and sank deeper into the bed, closing her eyes again. This time, they stayed closed as she drifted off to sleep.

“What am I going to do with you?” I whispered. Hell, but I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had no defense against the desire to give her everything she needed, no matter what it cost.

Once I knew she was asleep, I gathered the things she had strewn over the bed during her trip down memory lane. There was an accordion folder nearby, so I opened it and carefully placed everything inside. Photos, mainly, one of which included a smiling little girl with missing front teeth and blonde braids. There was a sprinkle of freckles across her nose that had faded with time, but her sunny smile hadn’t.

I couldn’t seem to make the image match up with the woman now snoring softly in bed. The poor little girl. She was happy then, but only because she didn’t know what was coming down the line.

There was something else beneath one of those photos, a carefully clipped article from the newspaper. Strange, but I recognized the photo in the center of the newsprint immediately. I had stared at it countless times, especially in the weeks after the fire, after that night.

It was the article describing the house fire that killed two unknown victims. They had never been named, leaving Dad’s second victim a mystery to me all these years. I never knew for sure because I had never asked, but I’d always assumed he’d paid plenty of people to keep Paul’s name out of it. The medical examiner at the time had never made an official identification on his body, had never informed Dominic or his mother. The story of the fire had only ever earned a brief mention in the paper.

Why would she have this article?

Did it take a fucking genius to figure it out? Why this specific article would be among the photos Scarlet had been going through on her mom’s birthday? They needed dental records to identify her because she had burned to death, had been burned beyond recognition thanks to the explosion that had taken us by surprise. The guy who wrote the article suggested it might have been the fault of an old furnace in the basement or faulty gas lines. Undoubtedly, it was something he was paid to write.

The room spun around me as the pieces came together. The cruelty of fate knocked the breath from my lungs and twisted my guts. Scarlet’s mother had burned the same night Paul Garibaldi burned. A man whose name Scarlet had never learned. Just another one of her Mom’s anonymous boyfriends, never identified to the fourteen-year-old she’d left behind.

Scarlet’s mother was the woman I could have saved if I had only called out to Dad before he threw the match, but didn’t.

Now, her daughter's life was in my hands.

Her daughter would only ever be a reminder of my greatest regret. Her daughter, who, if she found this out, I could lose forever.

Though if I allowed her mom to die, maybe that was what I deserved. I’d spent fifteen years regretting my actions without paying for them. It looked like the bill might have finally come due.

16

SCARLET

Something was different, and I had the feeling I understood what it was.

Being stuck in a suite, even one as luxurious as the one I was sort of trapped in, gave me nothing to do but keep up with the news. Gangland violence was the big ongoing story, and the media was eating it up with a spoon. Bodies were popping up right and left, and all of them belonged to men who were associated with various crime families.

I couldn’t help but look for Dominic’s name every time one of those stories came up. Was it wrong, hoping I would find out he was dead? Maybe, but I couldn’t bring myself to be sorry. Each time my conscience so much as threatened to bother me a little, I remembered every bruise I ever had to cover with makeup, and that was if he let me out of the house at all, which wasn’t always the case. I always had to tiptoe around him for fear of what might set him off. There was never any telling what it would be, what might offend him this time.

And, of course, there was the whole bit where I had to stay locked in a hotel suite for fear of what would happen if he found me, knowing he would want to make good on all of his promises of punishing me if I ever left him.

No, all things considered, I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for wanting him dead, especially when I knew how he broke Grayson’s heart by killing Jack.

The only thing I ever had to look forward to was seeing Grayson in the morning and at the end of the day. Otherwise, all I did was kill time.

Nova visited when she could, and we would sit and chat over coffee. She told me more about her recent past, including the case against her dad. It was funny, but I’d never imagined somebody who grew up the way she had—pampered, indulged, highly educated—knowing the same sort of desperation I did. She had feared for her life after finding out her dad was making money through human trafficking. Her own father, and she’d been afraid of what he would do to her.

“Are you sure you have the time to do this?” I asked her after two weeks at the hotel as she was leaving to get back to work, and I reminded myself not to be too clingy or demanding even though I hated seeing her leave. “I feel bad for taking up your time.”

“Are you kidding? It’s a treat having a girl to talk to. I mean, I love Vaughn,” she said with a laugh. “But there’s too much testosterone around this place.”

“You’re sure it’s not because Grayson asked you to keep me company?”

She grimaced, shrugging helplessly. Bullseye. “I’ve been asked for much bigger favors. This has become my favorite part of the day, sitting and chatting with you.”

I really wanted to believe that. It was nice having something to look forward to besides Grayson’s arrival, especially when he was always so clearly distracted. Most nights, I was asleep by the time he got in, stirring when he slid into bed, falling back to sleep once I knew he was safe for the night. Most mornings the past week, he’d been gone by the time I woke up.

It didn’t take long for natural questions to surface. How many of these news stories were connected to him? Was he the person behind these killings, either directly or otherwise? If he was, how did I feel about it? How did I feel about him?

After a week of him being a little more than a ghost, I decided to wait for him to make it back to the suite. It was time to ask the tough questions, no matter how much I dreaded the answers. They couldn’t be worse than what I had already dreamed up in my head.

I even took a nap to ensure I wasn’t too sleepy later. He tended to come in past midnight, and weeks of no longer working the overnight shift meant my internal clock was all messed up. Luckily, I was used to bouncing back after a nap, something I used to do to make sure I could live through a shift. That meant being able to sit up reading in bed, wide awake by the time the suite door opened and closed almost silently. I wouldn’t have heard it if I were asleep.

Right away, his footfalls slowed down as he approached the bedroom. He wasn’t expecting to see the light burning at twelve thirty when I was usually asleep by now. I waited as patiently as I could, staring at my tablet without seeing a word in front of me, barely breathing as the tension unfurled. What will he do? Does he dread seeing me? And why would he, if he did?

Finally, he appeared in the doorway, and something about his posture made my skin prickle. There was something off. Maybe it was the way he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his broad shoulders up around his ears as he scanned the room. “Everything all right?” he finally grunted, lingering in the doorway.

Even now, filled with apprehension, my heart softened at the sight of him—the concern on his face, the fatigue etched at the corners of his mouth and around his eyes that searched mine, eyes that undid me and made me want to beg him to open up. He had done it before, a little at a time. I thought he was starting to trust me.

Why was there this wall between us now?

Would he give me a straight answer, even if I begged for one?

Setting the tablet aside, I replied, “Everything’s fine. I thought I would wait up for you tonight.”

A shadow passed over his face before he headed for the bathroom. “You shouldn’t do that.” His voice was flat, almost cold. It had the power to chill my blood and make me wish I hadn’t stayed up after all. What did I expect? For him to be glad to see me? He used to seem glad. What the hell had changed?

I argued with myself for a few seconds before throwing back the duvet and getting out of bed, following him to the bathroom. He hadn’t closed the door. When he noticed me coming, he tried to kick it shut with his foot.

Too late. I caught it, held it open, saw the rust-colored stains he was washing from his hands. “Is that blood?” I asked, though I knew the answer.

He didn’t bother lying. “Yes. It’s blood.”

“Whose blood?”

“Does it matter?” He worked efficiently, rapidly rubbing his hands together, steam rising from the basin. I couldn’t tear my gaze away even as my dread grew. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen blood on his hands.

“I hope you’re not taking risks out there,” I whispered, shivering as I remembered that horrible night. He and I were strangers then, and we had returned to that dynamic. He may as well have been on the moon. He felt that far away from me now.

And it’s your own damn fault for caring too much in the first place. I knew it was wrong, didn’t I? Knew he was the last man I should ever fall for. I couldn’t repeat Mom’s mistakes. At least she had an excuse—she couldn’t help herself, she never had been able to. I, on the other hand, was supposed to know better. There was nobody to blame but myself.

“I’m doing what I have to do.” He kept washing long after his skin looked clean, his back rising and falling under his T-shirt with every sharp breath. Was he doing it to be extra careful, or did he want to avoid looking at me? Why wouldn’t he look at me?

“And what is that? What do you need to do?”

“You know better than to ask me that.”

There were a lot of things I should have known better than. It was a little too late to think about that now, with my heart in my throat, hanging on his every word. “Do you know anything about all these killings and shootings and stuff that are going on lately?” I blurted out.

He was good at holding things inside, but he wasn’t perfect. The question caught him off guard, making him flinch, and I released a long breath. It was one thing to suspect, but knowing was a whole other issue.

He finally turned off the water and dried his hands on a nearby towel, lifting his stony gaze. “What do you want me to say?” He shrugged. “I told you. All of the good in me is gone. I don’t know if it ever existed or if I let myself get fooled into thinking it did.”

“You’re not giving yourself a chance.”

“Tell that to the guy whose face I just caved in with my fists tonight.” There was something unbearably nasty about the way he said it. He wasn’t bragging, nothing like that. It was more like the tone he took with me the night he found out about Jack. “Aren’t you glad you know?” or whatever it was he said. It was the same thing here.

Stiffening my spine, I told him exactly what I’d been telling myself for days. “You’re doing what you have to do. It’s not like you go around doing this for fun.”

He only snickered. “How do you know?”

I refused to believe he meant it. He was pushing me away like he tried to back at the cabin. That was why he kept coming in late, avoiding me. It was this strange sense of heroism that meant he had to hold me at a distance when all I wanted was to help him in any way I could.

All I wanted was him, no matter whether he thought it was right or wrong.

I could see straight through him, and if I didn’t think he’d be furious, I would have told him so. My heart knew I wasn’t tricking myself, determined to believe a fantasy. Jack wasn’t the only person who saw Grayson for who he truly was. If only he could see himself so clearly.

He dropped the hand towel he was using, narrowing his eyes. “I mean it. How do you know? How do you know this isn’t exactly what I like to do?” Taking one slow step after another, like an animal stalking his prey, he closed the distance between us. No matter how my pulse raced or how the deadly look in his eyes made me shiver, I stood my ground until his heavy-soled boots almost touched my toes.

“I’ll tell you something… I feel more alive right now than I have in too long. The way I felt that night we met.” In a flash, he reached out, taking me by the wrist and placing my hand over his chest. His heart thudded wildly under my palm. “Feel that? So maybe I am doing it for fun, after all. And what does that say about me? Why did you have to stay up and wait for me to come back?”

He held my hand in place with one of his, reaching out to cup the back of my head with the other. If only his touch didn’t undo me like it did. My heart was pounding, too, but warm relief flowed over me at the same time. I was in the middle of a giant game of tug-of-war, getting pulled between fear and desire, knowing I shouldn’t want him but unable to stop.

“Don’t you see?” His soulful eyes searched mine, darting over my face and leaving me feeling exposed. “I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t you get it?”

“Then don’t hurt me.” Reaching up, I touched my hand to his face, my fingers trailing over his scar. He leaned into my touch ever so slightly, his eyes closing while he released a shuddering sigh.

But it didn’t last long before his eyes snapped open again, blazing bright. He tipped my head back to align his mouth with mine. “I’m not sure if I can help it,” he gritted out. “I’m not sure there’s anything I can ever give you but regret.”

When he claimed my mouth again, my soul sang. This was all I wanted—to melt against him, to give myself to him, to be here, his refuge after going out into the world and fighting a battle because of me.

That was why, instead of pushing him away, I pulled him in by his shirt collar, parting my lips, stroking his tongue with mine. The thrill of it was almost enough to curl my toes long before he pushed me backward until my legs hit the bed. I dropped onto it while he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. I worked his belt, opening it quickly, unbuttoning his jeans, and lowering his zipper so they would fall to his knees. He was already growing, thickening, and I looked up from under my lashes to lock eyes with him as I lowered the waistband of his boxer briefs.

He took the back of my head again, massaging and gripping forcefully at the same time, his touch both sensual and demanding. “You know how much I need you?” he muttered, putting pressure on me, pulling me closer to his swollen head.

My pussy went hot and wet as I wrapped my fingers around him and guided him to my tongue. The first taste of salty precum unleashed a deep, primal yearning for more. I took him inside my mouth, savoring every grunt and soft sigh coming from him. In the middle of everything—all the confusion, the worrying, the fear—this was what we could come back to. Even when he was lost in darkness, we could find each other here. I could bring him back to the light.

“More, baby,” he growled, holding my head, breathing faster with each stroke of my tongue against his underside. I loosened my throat to let him in deeper, holding him by his hips once he started to move them, to work his way in and out. All I wanted was to touch him, to be near him, to give him this if nothing else.

But it didn’t take long for the energy to shift, for his strokes to become more demanding, for his hand to hold me tighter, almost pulling my hair. “Stay still,” he grunted, unleashing a flurry of quick, sharp thrusts. It was hard not to gag, but I held on, taking everything he gave, even though my lungs begged for air and my head started to spin. I held on. I wanted to show him I could.

But finally, he pulled back, and I could breathe, sagging a little. “You like that?” he asked, taking my face in his hands, gazing down at me. My breath caught at the sight of the swirling anger, pain, and confusion in his eyes.

His thumb ran over my lips, and I parted them again, taking it inside, grazing him with my teeth. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered, stroking my cheeks before his gaze hardened, his jaw tightened, and something shifted again. The anger bubbled up. I felt it in the way his touch changed. What was soft suddenly became demanding.

I gasped in surprise when he yanked me to my feet, then spun me in place and bent me over the bed. My heart pounded in my ears as confusion swept through me. What is happening?

He opened the nightstand drawer behind me, and I knew he was looking for a condom while, with his other hand, he pulled down my pants and thong. His large, strong hand ran over my ass, caressing and stroking before raking his fingers across my flesh like two sides of him were fighting for domination.

"This is going to be rough, baby. Are you with me? I need to hear you say it."

“Yes.” I breathed almost too fast, anxiety and excitement clawing at my skin. The foil packet ripped, and moments later, I knew which part of him had won when he impaled me in one deep, unforgiving thrust that pushed me forward. His hands found my hips, and he yanked me back hard enough to pull a yelp from deep in my chest.

“Is this what you wanted?” He slammed into me hard enough to knock the wind out of my lungs and make my head spin. “Is this what you stayed up for? For this?” Another thrust, then another, forcing me along the thin line between pain, pleasure, excitement, and danger.

No, I didn’t stay up for this, but now I was glad I had. My mind was in a panic, wondering what he would do next and whether I wanted him to do it, but my body? My body sang, screamed out, craved more. “Yes, yes,” I urged, clawing at the sheets when I couldn’t claw at his body. This was what I needed without knowing it. The excuse to let go of all the questions, fears, and doubts. I gritted my teeth and growled through them while he took me hard, fast.

“Fuck!” he panted, pushing me down with a hand on my upper back, holding me still so he could have his way. There was nothing for me to do but take it while I moaned helplessly. Heat scaled my back as goose bumps rose on my skin. His deep, guttural grunts reached deep down and touched part of me nobody ever had. Knowing I could undo him the way he undid me.

“Grayson…” I whimpered, twisting my head to look at him over my shoulder. His handsome face was a mask as hard as what moved inside me—teeth gritted, jaw tight, eyes narrowed. Deadly. He hurt somebody tonight and might have wanted to hurt me now. He had to settle for fucking me like an animal, grunting, sweating, and moving faster all the time.

Our eyes met. I held his gaze, panting for breath, wanting him to know what he was doing to me. How I needed this. Him.

“Come for me.” The hand on my hip found its way between my legs, where my aching clit begged to be touched. Just when I thought I couldn’t take more, he proved me wrong, strumming my bundle of nerves and breaking my sanity because, oh my God, it was all so good, too good. I was going to explode.

“Yes! Oh…. God!” I had to press my face to the bed to muffle a scream before shattering around him. He pulled me back one last time and held me there, locked with him, roaring out his release while I was lost in mine.

What a shame it couldn’t last forever. I was still quivering and trying to catch my breath when he slid away. I couldn’t see his face, so I didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling. The uncertainty made me hesitate before rolling over.

Indecision. That was what I saw once I found the courage to look him in the eye after he took me so forcefully. His brows were drawn together, his jaw ticking while he scanned my face. “What is it?” I whispered, instinctively pulling the blankets around me to ward off a sudden chill. Was it the temperature in the room or my confusion over him?

He blinked, then shook his head. “Nothing. I just remembered something else I have to do.”

“Tonight?” I asked with a sinking heart. “Can’t you stay?”

Reaching out, he ran a hand over my hair. There was unspeakable tenderness behind it, the opposite of the rough, brutal attitude he showed before. His voice had lost its brittle edge, too, now the deep, velvet growl I first melted over. “I’ll never get to sleep if I don’t do it now. But I’ll be back. I promise.” After a firm but quick kiss against my forehead, he returned to the bathroom.

This time, he closed the door while water splashed, and I sat on the edge of the bed feeling like I had been run over by a truck, wrapping the blankets tighter around me to make up for the warmth I craved from him. My heart ached for him to hold me.

Instead, he was dressed again when he opened the door and grazed me with a sweep of his eyes before heading toward the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked with a sob lodged in my chest.

He hesitated before looking my way. Something brought him back to where I sat, feeling forlorn. Taking my face in his hands, he murmured, “I promise. It won’t take long.” The stroking of my cheeks with his thumbs was no substitute for the answer he never offered. I wasn’t allowed to know where he was going.

“It’s all right,” I lied. Be brave. Don’t let him see how it hurts. Even though he was kinder now, almost tender, tears stung behind my eyes. Maybe they were there because I knew how good he could be. If it wasn’t for me dragging him into this nightmare, he could have gone on being the person he wanted to be instead of this version of himself, fighting between darkness and light. “I’ll be here.”

What choice did I have? I was sort of stuck and not only in the suite. My heart was stuck on him and always would be.

17

GRAYSON

Asshole. Stupid, thoughtless asshole.

My foot pressed heavier on the gas pedal than before, like I could outrun my guilt. Leaving her there like that when there was so much hurt and sadness in her voice was a choice that haunted me. Her image hovered in front of me—the slumped shoulders, the trembling chin.

What was the alternative, though? Holding her? Making sure she felt things for me she shouldn’t feel? I couldn’t let it get any worse. One day, she would understand.

I’d be damned if I ever would. The last thing I should have done was fuck her. All it took was one touch, the way her eyes flashed, or the faint scent of her shampoo lingering in the air after she took a shower. I was a helpless, hopeless wreck for her. Before I knew it, I was balls deep, holding her still so I could fuck her brains out.

And then it hit me. Inspiration struck, and I couldn’t ignore it. I wasn’t lying when I told Scarlet I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t pursue the idea that flashed across my brain like a breaking news ticker.

What a shame I hadn’t thought of it before, but then I would have laughed it off before now. After two weeks of dead ends, questioning tight-lipped assholes, and cracking a few of their bones, I was running out of options on where to find Dominic and how to get the upper hand.

He had fallen off the map once word got out of how many people were tired of his shit. Fingers were starting to point, and they were all trained in his direction. The added heat put on not him, but every family after Jack’s murder meant old resentments and rivalries were starting to bubble up to the surface again. People were getting desperate, brutal, trigger-happy. The worse it got for them, the better for me.

Tonight, I had the pleasure of beating the shit out of a guy who, according to police intel, had shot up a bar last night. The bastard refused to explain who said what and who was involved in the fight that went too far. He was more obliging after coughing up blood and a handful of teeth.

He even gave me a familiar name. One I had avoided thinking about for as long as I could. I didn’t want to go to him unless there was no other choice. Gripped by lust and Scarlet’s tight pussy, I realized the time had come. Either I dragged her deeper into my darkness, or I put an end to things once and for all by asking Dad for help.

Talk about post-nut clarity.

Closing in on the modest house I’d grown up in, a million memories came rushing back. I’d kept them locked away for so long that their return threatened to drown me. My parents hadn’t moved even once Dad started making more money, probably because he spent it as soon as it came in, though Mom likely swore she wouldn’t want to leave, anyway. She had always excused his bullshit.

The man was a creature of habit. He wouldn’t be asleep yet—he never slept more than four or five hours a night. Sure enough, I pulled up in the driveway to find his study light burning, the other windows dark.

One promise Mom had kept—she made sure the locks were never changed so I could come home anytime. Until tonight, I didn’t imagine that time ever happening. Now, I pulled out my keys on the way to the front door, finding the one I hadn’t used but was unable to take off the ring. I slid it into the lock, hoping this wasn’t a mistake.

The alarm hadn’t been set, making me wonder if the old man was slipping. Either that, or he believed himself untouchable, which was probably the case. Pride had always been his weakness.

It was all the same. I could navigate the first floor by heart after sneaking in so many times in my teens, walking confidently in the dark. The only thing slowing me down was the possibility of Dad taking my sudden entrance as a threat. I should have called, but then would he have answered? Taking my gun from my waistband, I held it by my side as I closed in on the study. The door stood partway open, allowing light to leak into the hall.

Along with a familiar voice, even after all this time. “Come in and get it over with. You think I didn’t see you pull up?” With a snicker, he added, “I’ve been waiting for you to come crawling once you figured out you’re in over your head.”

So much for the element of surprise.

Tucking the gun in my waistband, I rounded the doorframe and eased open the heavy door to find Dad seated at his desk, a laptop open in front of him, a glass of scotch in one hand. He wore a robe over pajamas, but his rigid posture made up for his casual attire. That and the scowl hardening his expression as he looked me up and down. “It makes sense you’d want to slink in here while your mother’s asleep, though she’s the only reason I’d allow you in here,” he grumbled, sipping his drink but remaining watchful.

“I didn’t want to make a big thing about it,” I explained, stepping slowly into the room. It still smelled of leather and held the faint aroma of the cigars he occasionally indulged in. “Believe me when I tell you, this is the last thing I planned to do.”

“Why are you here?” Still eyeing me warily, he asked, “What did you fuck up?”

What a question. My snide laughter only narrowed his eyes further. The lines around them were deeper now, the silver that had begun touching his temples years ago taking over for the dark brown I’d inherited. “There’s that paternal support you were always so good at.” I chuckled without humor. “I’ve come here on a matter of business.”

Snorting, he took another sip of his drink, smacking his lips once he did. “What business could I possibly have with you? You made sure we would never have business together a long time ago.”

He would see it that way. It didn’t surprise me, though I couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed in him. You have to meet people where they are—one of Jack’s favorite sayings. I couldn’t expect more from Dad than he was capable of offering.

He didn’t have it in him to put things together without having them spelled out. He would never have concluded that whatever brought me to him must have been serious if I were willing to step foot through his front door again.

I took in the room around me, which had not changed much since I was a kid—the same heavy furniture, all rich wood and leather. The exact same books lined the shelves. I doubted he’d ever read any of them. They were purely decorative. “I used to love this room,” I mused, heading to the bar tucked among the shelves opposite the long, mahogany desk. His gaze burned holes into me from behind while I poured a drink for myself without asking. “It made me feel closer to you, being in here. Listening to you take phone calls, handling issues. I used to hate it when you would send me out of the room because there were things I shouldn’t hear.”

“What is your point?” he asked, sounding bored.

“You might not have known it… to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I understood until just now. You taught me over the years that certain things must be done for the good of everyone.” I swirled the liquor in the glass, making the ice cubes clink musically while heading across the room. He stiffened further with every step I took, betraying his anxiety. “Making alliances with adversaries, for instance. There are situations that require a leader to put aside differences if it means doing what’s best for everyone.”

“What are you saying?” he demanded. “Stop wasting time. Or didn’t you learn it’s best to always get straight to the point while you were picking up these lessons from me?”

He was rattled. That much was painfully obvious. The more rattled he was, the harder he pretended otherwise. Dropping into a chair to the right of his desk, I sighed. “There’s a problem, and it needs to be taken care of. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

I caught his smirk from the corner of my eye while taking an experimental sip of his scotch. “Finally, you’ve come out with it. Yeah, everybody knows about your… friend, and how Dominic took care of him.”

My friend. What an understatement.

I swallowed back my rage along with a mouthful of liquor. “Do you know why he did it?”

“Word gets around. He asked you for a favor, and you turned your back on him.” With a sneer, he added, “It’s a skill know well.”

“I turned my back on an abuser who only wanted me to find his woman so he could get back at her for leaving him,” I snapped.

“Well, I don’t know what your little detective pal taught you, but we don’t get involved in shit like that.”

“Who is we? I don’t know why you would wear that as a badge of honor,” I added, more than slightly bitter at his attitude. “If you had a daughter who was getting the shit kicked out of her by a boyfriend, don’t tell me you wouldn’t tear off his head.”

Unmoved, he replied, “This isn’t your daughter we’re talking about.”

A bolt of pure disgust slashed through me, tightening my jaw and diction. “No, I’m talking about a defenseless woman who managed to escape.” A woman I could still smell on me. “I’m talking about someone who manipulated me into searching for her, pretending she was running from someone else. And when I gave him his money back and told him I couldn’t be any part of it, he declared war on me.” Pausing, I watched him process this. “Now.” Crossing one ankle over the other knee, I rattled the ice in my glass, leaving my gaze focused on him.

I wanted him to squirm. Maybe I needed to see it happen.

“Before any other innocents are killed, I’m going to put him down. He is not going to stop searching for people who matter to me and taking them down one by one to send a message. Jack Meadows is not going to be the last. You have to know that.”

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, he muttered, “That sounds like a you problem.”

Not surprising. “Does it?” I asked. “Considering he has Mom’s trust?”

“Don’t you dare,” he spat. “Don’t you use her to get your way.”

“I’m telling the truth.” Shrugging, I added, “The only thing stopping him from killing one or both of you is knowing it would end in an all-out war that will make these recent dust-ups look like a day at the beach. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Maybe I’m not particularly interested in your version of the truth. Do you know what my truth is?” he countered, his face dark as a flush washed over him. “I’m sitting here, staring at my only son, knowing he would turn his back on me in a heartbeat. And you expect me to team up with you? Do you think this made-up threat to your mother’s life is going to change anything?”

“If anything, I’m more concerned for your life if I should happen to, I don’t know, tell that rabid dog you’ve been treating like a son all these years exactly what happened to his father.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Am I? Are you willing to test that theory?” I returned his stare as seconds ticked silently away. When it was clear he was determined to outlast me, I sighed. This was going nowhere—time to change course. “Dad. Let’s forget all this for a second. Whatever you might think, I don’t want to hurt you. It would mean hurting Mom. That is the one thing I’ve kept in mind all these years, but I would do it if it meant helping this woman.”

“Don’t tell me you love her,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling before draining his glass.

My skin prickled at the idea. Not because it was unthinkable but because he had no right to speak of it.

Did I love her?

Did it make a difference since I had no business loving somebody who’d already been tainted by the ugliness of the world I’d grown up in?

It did make a difference.

If I didn’t love her, I wouldn’t be here, doing the one thing I swore I never would—sitting down with my father again. This was the only way to give her the freedom she deserved, the only way to love her that wouldn’t hurt her in the end. “What if I do?” I asked.

“Then you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

“I’m not interested in your opinion,” I snapped. The drink wasn’t helping dull the razor edge of my resentment. “What I need to know is exactly what would you stop at if it meant protecting Mom? Who would you be willing to align with to prevent anything ever happening to her?”

He held my gaze for a brief moment before staring into his glass. His jaw worked while one short breath after another was released through flared nostrils. He was listening. That alone was a victory. But the battle wasn’t over. “I do care about her. Maybe I even love her,” I admitted, hearing the words come out of my mouth, unable to believe they were coming from me. “And I will do whatever it takes for her, but I need help. I’ve done you a solid all these years. I never breathed a word of it. Even Jack never knew the specifics of why I broke away from you.”

His eyes darted up from his drink, widening in surprise. “You can’t be serious.”

“You really think you could’ve gotten away with it?” I asked with a snort. “Come on. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me you still believe in Santa Claus. I kept my part of the bargain,” I concluded. “My silence for letting me walk away. But I need this from you now. I need your help because it's not just me in the balance. The longer I keep him waiting, the more desperate he’s going to get.”

It was clear from his continued silence that I had no choice. He was pushing my hand. “There’s one more thing you should know. Maybe it will influence you, maybe it won't. I swear to you, I had no idea of this when everything first started.”

I stood slowly, making sure I didn’t spook him, as I slid a hand into my back pocket, where a carefully folded sheet of paper waited. The confirmation of what I’d already known in my gut to be true. Information I’d held in secret for the past week, letting the guilt drive a wedge between us. And why not? It was a reminder of how I had failed her before I knew she existed.

“My intel guys dug this up for me,” I explained. “Fifteen years ago, the fire you set and the explosion that resulted killed Paul Garibaldi and an unidentified woman.”

His jaw worked, his eyes narrowed to slits. “No shit.”

“It turns out that woman had a fourteen-year-old daughter who waited four days for her mother to come home before finally getting the call that she had been identified. Maybe it was a mercy on the part of the medical examiner. I don’t know. I only know that girl is the same woman I’m trying to protect now.”

“Fuck off,” he snarled, staring at the paper in my hand, scoffing. “That can’t be true.”

I dropped the page onto his desk and cleared my throat before reciting the information I’d memorized. “Melanie Bowers, forty years of age at the time of her death. One daughter. Scarlet Bowers. Fourteen years of age.” He did me the enormous favor of looking down at the page, skimming the contents while I spoke. “This is my only chance to make it right, Dad. And you can make it right too. I know you did what you felt you had to do that night. That I’m not interested in debating. What I’m saying is, this is a chance to make it right for a kid you threw into the foster system the night you killed her mother. And if you don’t…”

His gaze lifted, meeting mine, wary again. “If I don’t?”

“Then I tell him. I tell him everything. And by then, he’ll be after you. I’ll keep Mom protected,” I assured him before he could ask. “She’ll have nothing to worry about. But you? You will never live another day without looking over your shoulder.”

“You would do that to me?” It was like he was looking at me through new eyes. “You would give up your father for some… woman?”

“Yes. And I wouldn’t lose a minute of sleep.” I lifted an eyebrow in a silent challenge. “I decided that before I walked through the door. I knew you’d force my hand. So what’ll it be?”

Sinking into the chair again, I continued sipping my drink while he stared at me, slack-jawed. “Your move, Dad. But believe me, I’ve never been more serious.”

Less than an hour later, I traced my steps back up to Vaughn’s presidential suite. Everything was in place or as good as. There was one more hurdle to clear. My feet were heavy, but my mind was made up by the time I stepped into the dark, silent suite. This time, the bedroom light was out. I tried and failed to ignore the mental image of Scarlet falling asleep alone, maybe crying, wondering what I was thinking.

How could I be so cruel? She’d understand soon enough.

For now, I indulged my weakness one more time, stripping down to my underwear before sliding under the blankets and slowly, carefully enfolding her soft body in my arms. She stirred, murmuring in her sleep before turning her head. “Everything okay?” she whispered, her voice thick.

“Everything’s fine.” Or it would be soon. Kissing her bare shoulder, I murmured, “Tomorrow, we’ll have dinner here. I owe you something special.” She murmured happily, fitting her body against mine before relaxing into sleep again.

I listened to every breath and felt her heart beating against my chest. I allowed her warmth and sweetness to envelop me.

It would be for the last time. I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve her, and she didn’t deserve me, but for a much different reason. The last thing she needed was my past, my darkness, the baggage I carried. The ties I thought I’d cut forever but insisted on haunting me anyway.

Loving her, and I was pretty sure I did, meant letting her go.

I had to soak up every minute while I could.

18

SCARLET

“Don’t forget. I’ll be here around seven. Be ready for dinner.”

Grayson’s parting words from earlier in the day repeated in my head as I applied another coat of mascara. My hair sat in Velcro rollers, and for the first time in weeks, I had an excuse to wear earrings. I didn’t realize until now how much I’d craved a night out.

Even if we were spending it inside.

It didn’t matter. After leaving me alone last night with no explanation, he owed me a nice dinner. He owed me more than that. Staring at myself in the mirror as I pulled the rollers from my hair, I resolved to hold him accountable. I was through making the same mistakes time and again, something I began to realize after the shine of my orgasms faded, leaving behind a growing ache of emptiness.

So why was I so excited about dinner? Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach all day when I imagined being with him tonight. Just the two of us. Maybe we could forget about everything going on around us for a little while.

No. My freshly made eyes closed, and I gripped the counter, silently cursing myself out for being such an idiot. It didn’t matter how I felt in my heart or the rest of my body, I had to listen to my head, and my head knew I needed to stand up for myself. It was time to break the cycle of letting men walk over me because that was all I’d ever known growing up. I had to be strong for myself.

At ten minutes to seven, my phone buzzed with a text from Grayson. My heart dropped. Is he canceling on me? Crazy how my thoughts immediately went there. A sigh of relief slid out from my pursed lips when I read the message.

Grayson: Stay in the bedroom while I make sure everything is set up.

What did he have in mind? I heard him out there, walking around. Something clattered, followed by a grunted curse. There was noise in the kitchen—drawers opening and closing, cabinet doors banging shut. It would have been cute, hearing him rush around, if I weren’t determined to guard my heart. I needed to be smarter this time. I finished getting ready, reminding myself over and over to be smart. To guard myself even as I adjusted my boobs so they’d look nice and perky in a V-cut dress.

After another five minutes or so, there was a knock on the bedroom door. “You ready?” he asked. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking from the tone of his voice.

Was I ready? For dinner, sure. I had saved my appetite. For a conversation, not so much, at least if my trembling legs were any indication. That didn’t stop me from opening the door to find him holding a bouquet of red roses.

It was his dark suit that almost made me forget to breathe, though. He had even dressed up for our special night, and the effect took my legs from trembling to weak. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured, his gaze traveling slowly over me while I tried to remember how to speak. I hadn’t expected this. It wasn’t fair. How was I supposed to stick to my guns when the open buttons of his crisp shirt revealed a patch of tanned chest?

“You’re looking just as nice,” I told him, shoving aside my helpless lust before burying my nose in the flowers once I accepted them. “They’re so beautiful. Thank you.”

“There’s a vase for them in the dining room.” He led the way to the room between the kitchen and the study, and I didn’t know what was more intriguing—the faint aroma of tomatoes and garlic that grew stronger with every step or the man in front of me. He looked just as good going as he did coming. Stay strong, girl. There was no room for my hormones tonight. At least, not yet. Maybe later, once eating and talking were out of the way.

“What is all this?“ I asked, awed at the sight and the smell of a feast spread out on the dining room table. He’d put out two place settings and lit candles too. Their dancing flames cast a warm, inviting glow over the room as I lowered the bouquet into a crystal vase.

“I thought you deserved something a little special after so many weeks without much of an opportunity to get out in the world,” he explained. “This seemed like a decent compromise. I asked Sebastian to send over some of Home’s most popular dishes.”

“This is from Home?” I was practically swooning, and not only because the aromas made my stomach growl and my head spin. He had put real thought into this.

“It is, and I hope you’re hungry because he sent a ton.” He pulled out my chair for me, and I took a seat, overwhelmed—lasagna, meatballs, sausage, sautéed greens, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of wine. “And Claudia added tiramisu, which I placed in the fridge,” he explained as he sat across from me.

The food looked amazing, but he looked better. I smiled, watching the candlelight play off his features while his face glowed. “This is so thoughtful.”

“It’s the least you deserve.”

My cheeks warmed when his penetrating stare lingered on me. The man had the power to make me tingle to the tips of my fingers and toes. “Let’s eat,” I suggested. It was either that or dissolve into a puddle every time I caught him watching me like he was trying to commit me to memory.

“I miss eating like this on the regular,” he mused, plating a massive slab of lasagna. “My mom is an incredible cook. Old-school Italian, a pot of sauce every Sunday, leftovers in the fridge throughout the week. I’ve missed it.”

“Food is special,” I mused, cutting into a tender meatball. Everything was so flavorful and fresh. “It helps bring back memories. We always ate well on holidays, but my mom would order in from our favorite restaurant. Otherwise, she never did much cooking.”

Eyeing him as he tore into his food, I asked, “If you’ve missed your mom’s cooking, why haven’t you been home? You talk about her in present tense, so…” My curiosity went too far. I could see how his features hardened a little before he looked down at his plate.

“It’s complicated. I had to walk away from the life I used to know. That meant leaving family dinner behind too. Though we talk on the phone regularly.”

His memories led to more, and soon, he was smiling, telling me about big meals around the family table and getting into trouble with his cousins during holiday celebrations. There was a sweet wistfulness about him that I wished I could capture. We had both lost our moms, in a way. One more thing we had in common.

I kept falling deeper, no matter how I fought my feelings for him. Every glance and brief smile that made my skin tingle and my stomach flutter worked against me. I never stood a chance.

“You should know something.” He finished dragging a piece of bread through what was left of the sauce on his plate once he’d demolished the lasagna and meat. “You won’t have to hide out like this for much longer. I’ve worked it out.”

Whoa. Sudden left turn. I could have used a warning, especially since he said it in a direct, strident way that told me he was prepared to say it.

“You what?” And why the hell hadn’t he told me that earlier? This could have been a real celebration. Setting down my knife and fork, I almost jumped out of my chair. “What happened? I mean, did you… did he…” Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

He understood, frowning and shaking his head. “I have a meeting in a little while. Everything will be worked out then. You won’t have anything to worry about anymore.”

I didn’t know which question to voice first or if I should ask any. “You’re leaving after dinner?” That seemed like the safest one. “I thought… I mean, I hoped we’d spend time together tonight.”

“I can’t.” That was all he said. No apology. Not even an attempt at looking regretful. “I’m getting everything taken care of tonight. Vaughn will let you know once it’s cleared up, and you’re free to go.”

Vaughn? No way. I had to be hearing him wrong. He was making it sound like I wouldn’t see him anymore. “What are you saying? Why won’t you be able to tell me yourself?”

He wiped his mouth on his napkin before checking his phone. “After tonight, you’ll be able to go on with your life. It’s for the best you live it without me, Scarlet.”

Then he stood slowly while I struggled to catch up. How could he put this delicious meal in front of me, then get up to leave like it meant nothing? How could I mean nothing? “I don’t understand. How… why?” I whispered, standing, leaning against the table for support.

“It’s for the best. You’ll be free, I promise you that.” His dark eyes sparkled in the candlelight, but there was nothing behind them. He might as well have been a stranger. “You can start over, be the person you want to be. There’s a bank account in your name with enough money in it that you can afford to stay here in Vegas if you want, or you can start over somewhere else. But it will be your choice.”

How could it be my choice when I wasn’t being given a choice? “But where are you going? Why are you doing this?”

“I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do.” He looked over the table, his gaze lingering on the flowers for a beat. What a joke. He bought me a lush bouquet, only to say goodbye. “You deserve a shot at a life, and I’m going to give it to you.”

“But why? I don’t mean the money,” I added, waving a hand. Not that it didn’t matter, but right now, it didn’t matter as much as other things. The pain threatening to shred my heart was more important. “I mean, why are you going away?”

“Scarlet, how many times do I have to tell you?” he asked with a sigh. At least he looked a little more human now like he could feel something. “I am not the man⁠—”

“You’re not the kind of man I need in my life, right?” I asked. Bitter disappointment surged in my veins and made tears well in my eyes. “You’re making the decision for me. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t want to argue about this.”

“Oh, because it’s that easy.” My voice trembled with emotion, but I pushed through. “You can just decide you don’t feel like dealing with something, and that’s it. It’s gone. Very convenient, very easy for you. What about me? I don’t get a say?”

“Right now?” There was the stern, sharp, cold Grayson. I would have sworn the temperature in the room dropped when he hit me with an icy stare. “No. You don’t. Because I know what’s right.”

“Bullshit,” I spat. “You know what’s safe. You know what’s going to get you out of this feeling like a good guy like you’re doing me a favor. Well, you’re not, because I… I feel…” There was too much threatening to come out of me all at once—anger, disappointment, frustration, and loneliness all swirling around and fighting for dominance.

His jaw ticked, and his throat worked when he swallowed. “Don’t.”

That single word popped the bubble of my indecision, and let anger rush to the surface. “Oh! I’m not even allowed to say how I feel. You really should have written down all these rules for me so I wouldn’t accidentally break any.”

“You don’t feel anything for me…” he replied, walking out of the room without warning,

“… because I don’t deserve for you to feel anything for me.”

Following him, I demanded, “Who says?”

“I do because there are things I know that would change your opinion of me permanently.”

“Like what? No, I want to know!” I shouted when he only shook his head on reaching the suite door, where he’d left his gun on the table. My already sinking heart dropped like a rock when he tucked it into his waistband before straightening his jacket and checking out his reflection in the mirror over the table. I might as well have been talking to myself. “Goddammit! Tell me! Why can’t I care about you? Why can’t I love you?”

Desperation made me reach up and take his face in my hand, turning it until he was looking at me again. Why wouldn’t he let himself hear what I was trying to tell him? “I love you. I see who you are. You’ve risked everything for me because you’re good. I believe you are.”

He winced like he was in pain, and there was a moment when I wished I could take it back. But no. I didn’t want to. I wanted him to hear it because it was true, and despite everything, I did love him. I couldn’t let him walk away like none of this ever happened.

His hand covered mine, and for one cruel moment, his face softened, and I knew I got through to him until he removed my hand from his cheek, letting it drop. “This is who I’m always going to be, Scarlet. I tried telling myself for years I could be better, do better, but at the end of the day, we can’t change the foundations of who we are. You’ve seen the darkness in me.”

“No,” I choked out.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Like last night. And that was when I was trying to hold it back. What happens when I can’t hold on anymore? I will never be anything but wrong for you.”

“That’s not true!” Was it pathetic, begging like this? Maybe. Did it matter when he was trying to walk away? “Please, can we talk about this? Why can’t I have a say? I know you fight against what’s inside you, and I want to help. Doesn’t that matter?”

“Just let me go,” he muttered, his voice as flat as his gaze. He was pulling away, shutting me out. “Please.”

“Tell me you don’t feel anything for me.” He scoffed, looking at the floor. “Grayson, look at me. Tell me there’s nothing between us.”

Instead, he dropped another bomb. “I know who your mom was with the night she died.”

It was so sudden, so totally out of the blue, that it took me a second to recover. “What?” I whispered, reeling. “How could you? And what does it have to do with anything?”

When he lifted his gaze, dread made me fall back, instinctively putting space between us. There was the monster he tried to warn me about. Murderous, maybe enraged, and now he was walking toward me, making me back away blindly from what was written across his face. “I know what happened to her. I know who she was with. Dominic’s father. Paul Garibaldi. I watched it happen.”

No. It wasn’t possible. “You’re only saying that,” I protested, only coming to a stop once he had me backed up against the sofa.

“I followed my dad that night.” The words came out rapidly, like gunfire. “I watched him come out of that house with a gas can in his hand. Paul’s car was outside. He must’ve used it as a place to take his girlfriends. Whether or not Dad knew Paul wasn’t alone, I have no idea. But I was there, and I watched him throw the match without saying a word. Do you hear me? I let him kill your mother.”

Dropping to the sofa, I shook my head, my throat too tight for words.

I refused to believe it.

Standing over me, he snarled, “At the end of the day, I was too stupid and cowardly to tell him to stop. By the time we met up in the street, it was too late. I ended up with this,” he explained, running a finger along the thin scar running from his temple down his jaw. “A piece of glass sliced my face open when the gas line exploded.”

Slowly, he crouched until we were eye to eye. “I let it happen,” he said, speaking slowly. “I have regretted it every day for fifteen years, but it changes nothing. Do you agree? Wouldn’t you agree that my regret doesn’t do a damn thing?”

“I can’t believe this,” I whispered, ignoring the tears streaming down my face and dripping onto my chest. “What are the odds Dominic and I would end up together? You’re making it up!” Though I never did know the name of the person she was with, did I? They never named the second person.

“Believe it.” His gaze was cold but level, unflinching. “And that is all you’d have to look forward to with me. That’s what I come from. Best friends smiling in each other’s faces and stabbing each other in the back. Thoughtless violence, danger, darkness. I’m doing you a favor… be smart enough to accept it.”

As I sputtered, he concluded, “Your mother died, and your life was destroyed because I didn’t stop what was happening. I can turn my back on that life, but I’ll never be fully free. I’ll only ever hurt you. Do you understand?”

I was starting to because he was crushing my heart. My chest hurt too much. It would kill me. Touching a shaking hand to it, I croaked, “You win. Go. Please.” Because I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep trying, fighting against his dark side. Even looking at him was too much. Closing my eyes was all I could do as sobs began taking hold.

He didn’t say another word, not that he needed to. I’d heard everything I needed to hear. The only sound in the suite beyond my broken weeping was the opening and closing of the door, signaling his exit from my life.

19

GRAYSON

“Idon’t think I’ve ever been in your office.” Aiden leaned back in one of Vaughn’s chairs, sipping his drink, looking around the room with an eyebrow arched. “It’s nice. Maybe a little dated.”

“Do you have an opinion about everything?” Jackson asked with a snicker from the window, where he’d been gazing down at the lights on the Strip.

“Everybody has opinions,” Aiden pointed out.

“Not everybody has to express them constantly.” Jackson chuckled, along with Vaughn and Sebastian. Even Aiden had to laugh at himself a little, one thing he was always able to do.

I didn’t find it so easy to laugh. Not when I knew the woman whose heart I had broken was downstairs in her suite, probably still weeping. Alone. The way she had been for so long. And here I was, one floor up, having a drink in Vaughn’s office, knowing what was about to happen, battling the desire to go down there and throw myself at her feet, begging for mercy, begging for her love. That wouldn’t do her any good. I would only hurt her in the end.

The only way to love her was to let her go.

I had to be strong.

“Thank you for going out of your way to meet up here.” I finished off my bourbon, savoring its smoothness, willing myself to focus on that and not on what I had done to Scarlet. I didn’t mean to tell her that way, but it was the only way to make her understand how completely wrong I was and always would be. I had to get through to her.

If I ever again considered darkening her doorstep, all I had to do was remember the pain that leaked into her eyes when I told her the truth and know that was all I could ever offer. She would understand this was for the best. She would look back one day and thank me for what I was about to do.

“What’s with all the secrecy over why we had to meet up here tonight instead of downstairs in the lounge?” Sebastian asked me. Suddenly, four pairs of eyes turned my way, full of curiosity. Vaughn knew the basics of Scarlet’s situation if only because I owed him the truth after asking him to shelter her. Otherwise, my friends were almost salivating for details.

“Maybe I wanted you guys all to myself,” I suggested. The less they knew, the better.

Even Vaughn didn’t have any specifics on what was happening tonight. Only Dad knew about that. Checking my phone, I confirmed I had around half an hour before the meet-up he’d scheduled.

“Are you sure everything's okay with you?” For once, Aiden wasn’t fucking around. In fact, he looked downright concerned as he set his glass aside. “Do you need help with something?”

“It’s all business. After tonight, everything will be settled. I’ll be able to tell you more about it then,” I promised. “And I’ll be able to catch up on everything I’ve missed lately. I’m sure Jackson has fired at least five dancers by now,” I added, smirking his way.

“It’s only been two,” he retorted. “It’s not my fault everybody is full of promises of how hard they’ll work until the time comes to put the sweat in.”

“I remember back when you used to be fun,” Aiden grumbled, inspiring Jackson to give him the finger while we all laughed. He had a point, though, but I couldn’t bring myself to care very much at the moment. Later. Maybe when it was all over.

And no matter how things turned out, it would be over. One way or another.

“Speaking of fun.” Jackson checked his phone, scowling. “I’m having a late dinner with my mother. Don’t start,” he warned Aiden, who held up his hands in mock surrender.

“Give her my love.” Aiden made kissing noises, ducking a playful punch from Jackson as he passed on his way to the door.

Sebastian made a move to follow Jackson’s lead. “I’d better go too. The restaurant calls.” He eyed Aiden in passing, then jerked his head toward the door. “Come on. I’ll see if I can dig up something for you over there.”

“Since when am I the homeless dog that wanders around getting little scraps from people?” Aiden asked as he stood, returning his glass to the bar in the corner of the office.

Sebastian stopped dead in his tracks. “You consider my food scraps?”

“It was a figure of speech.” Their good-natured bickering faded as they left the office, leaving Vaughan and me on our own once the door closed. While I appreciated their banter and the sense of certain things never changing, their presence had exhausted me.

Now, I could drop the jovial act, though I hadn’t exactly tried hard to maintain it. “You got the information I sent you?” I asked Vaughn as he sat behind his desk. “The bank account, passwords, all of it?”

“I did.” He could drop the act, too, frowning in concern. He still didn’t know exactly what I planned to do tonight, but it didn’t take a genius to read my attitude and instructions for what they meant. “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

“I’m doing the only thing I can.” It was all I knew for sure as I handed him one last thing—an envelope containing a final message that I’d written out earlier. “I’ll let you know when it’s over. Give her this letter before giving her all of the other information. And if I don’t call you… give it to her, anyway.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he warned with a firm headshake. “I won’t accept it. I'll see you later.”

“Do one more thing for me,” I asked, standing in front of him, buttoning my jacket. “Don’t tell her. She doesn’t need to know what’s happening tonight.”

“I don’t know what’s happening tonight.” When I scowled, he shrugged. “Whatever you say.” It was obvious from his choice of words and the look on his face that he didn’t agree with my choices, but I wasn’t asking him to. I didn’t need his approval. Only I knew the full story and everything that was at stake. It was better that way, safer for him.

Everything was in place according to a text one of my guys sent as I took the elevator down to the first floor. My weak, traitorous heart urged me to stop one more time, to say goodbye to Scarlet, but I didn’t dare. The idea was to spare her future pain, and I couldn’t do that if I couldn’t manage to leave her alone. She’ll understand one day. I had to be okay with that. It had to be enough.

In less than twenty-four hours, I took the familiar route to my parents’ home for the second time. It was the only place Dad could suggest where he knew Dominic wouldn’t be spooked. He’d let his guard down, assuming there would be no violence under my mother’s roof. Of course, he didn’t know Mom was away on a surprise, last-minute trip to visit family in New York. At this very moment, she was probably thanking her lucky stars for having such a generous husband who would surprise her like that.

By the time she came back, it would all be over.

If, of course, my father didn’t betray me tonight. He could double-cross me, but I could only hope he was trustworthy. That was part of the reason for the urgency, getting him to go through with this without giving him time to second-guess anything.

The lights were on throughout the house when I arrived, pulling into the garage as we planned, parking where Dominic couldn’t easily find me. Three of my most trusted guys were already waiting inside, having parked a few blocks down before walking the rest of the way. Pete, Karl, and Vincent were among the few men I could rely on for more than intel and security. They weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty, and I wasn’t about to go into this without backup. I had already seen for myself how fickle my father’s loyalty could be.

“Everything is going smoothly,” Vincent assured me before we entered the house through the garage door. I led the way down the hall to where Dad was waiting in his study, nursing a glass of scotch when we arrived. His eyes widened a little when he took in the sight of who I’d brought with me. The three of them could have been linebackers or bouncers.

“It’s about time,” he announced, standing, wearing a sour expression as he ran a hand over his hair like he was making sure it was in place. “He’s due any minute.”

“This is the right thing,” I reminded him, echoing what we’d discussed before he broke down and agreed to work with me. “This is the only way. He’s out of control and pulling everybody into his personal vendetta.”

“I know.” Downing the rest of his drink, he set the glass aside. “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll go down to the basement now. He’s due any minute. But one of you stay up here in case he’s got anybody with him,” he suggested.

“Good thinking.” I nodded to Pete. “Take care of anybody who hangs around outside. Text me when it’s done.” He took my orders silently, returning to the garage while I led Vincent and Karl to the basement door. Dad had explained he was in the middle of having the basement finished as a recreation room, meaning most of what was down there had been moved out before new flooring was laid. By the time Mom got home from her trip, all evidence of this night would be covered up.

This was what Dominic had done. He’d turned me into the man I’d always sworn I would never be.

“I want you to stay back and let me handle this on my own,” I told the guys, handing Vincent my gun. This couldn’t be a quick kill. He needed to suffer. For Scarlet. For Jack. “But take the fucker out if he gets me somehow.”

It wasn’t another minute before Dad’s voice rang out upstairs. “I want you to see how I’m laying it all out. I ordered the pool table, a bar, and everything. It’ll be a real guy’s club down there.”

“Make sure I get an invitation.” Dominic’s voice found its way down to me, heating my blood. The two of them chatted as they drew closer. My phone buzzed—Pete’s confirmation. He had neutralized Dominic’s driver.

A man had died at my orders. I felt nothing. Maybe I would someday, but not tonight. Not when footsteps started down the stairs. Not when the man I’d sought out for weeks appeared before me, only noticing the three of us waiting for him when it was too late. Dad blocked his escape up the stairs, and soon Vincent joined him.

“What the fuck is this?” Dominic turned on his heel, grunting at Dad. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What needs to be done.” Dad stopped on the bottom step, looking sorrowful but determined. “You’ve brought too much heat on all of us. I am sorry. Truly.”

Dominic swung around so he could glare at me, lifting his lip in a snarl. “So this is how you chose to do it? You can’t face me like a man, so you run to Daddy and have him bring me here with some bullshit story about my father’s disappearance?” Barking out a bitter laugh, he shot Dad a look over his shoulder. “So you found proof of what happened to him, huh? You backstabbing old prick.”

I knew it was the only way to get him to show himself. Sliding out of my jacket, I handed it to Karl, never taking my eyes off Dominic. “Since you’ve been so hard to track down lately, I had to get a little help. We could’ve settled this man-to-man,” I added, smirking. “But you turned tail and ran. Funny how that happens when you piss off everybody, and they all have to wash their hands of you. And for what? Getting back at me?”

“Fuck you,” he spat. Did he know his time was winding down? He had to. It would explain the sweat beading on his upper lip, and the wild look in his eyes as they darted around the room like he was searching for a way out. He would never find it. There was no exit except through the door at the top of the stairs, and there was no chance of him getting that far.

“That’s right. Get it out of your system.” I rolled up my sleeves, savoring every moment of the panic he tried and failed to hide. “I’ll even make it fair for you. I could’ve pulled a gun the second you walked in, right? Instead, I’m going to give you the chance to defend yourself.”

Flexing and relaxing my fists, I chuckled. “And I want you to know that I’ll be thinking of her every fucking time my fist makes contact. Every time you hit her. Every time you terrified her. I want you to feel what she felt. I want you to know that helplessness. And you will,” I promised.

“You think so?” Lifting his chin, he stripped off his jacket and let it fall to the floor. I nodded to Karl, who took a step toward him to do a pat down.

Dominic scoffed. “Get real. Do you think I would bring a gun into this house? Until two minutes ago, he was a father to me,” he snarled, looking toward Dad.

I waved Karl off. “Keep my gun trained on him,” I advised just the same. “He pulls one, take him out.”

“Well. You thought it all out, haven’t you? When’s the last time you had to fight for yourself?” Dominic asked, raising his fists, turning to the side.

“All you seem to be able to do is beat on women and execute retirees,” I reminded him with a smile, stepping closer until he was within striking distance. “I’ll be just fine.”

“And if I didn’t come here alone?” he asked.

“You’re alone now.” I raised my fists. “Come at me.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” In a flash, he reached down into his boot and withdrew a switchblade he flipped open while wearing a cold grin. Dad grunted, but I ignored his reaction. I could handle a knife.

Dominic lunged, jabbing the long blade at my midsection. I jumped back before landing a right hook against his jaw that made him stumble backward before he caught himself. He brought the blade around in a clumsy arc I easily avoided. He was as graceful as a bull in a china shop, thanks to rage and betrayal clouding his judgment.

“Can’t fight with your fists, pussy?” I taunted, waiting until he was close enough to land a left against his chin before I fell back a step out of his reach. Making him chase me, which he did, he took a few lumbering steps before catching my shoulder with the tip of the knife. It was barely a scratch, but he let out a triumphant growl before coming at me again, thrusting the blade my way, the cut on his chin oozing blood that dripped on his shirt.

Pain lanced me when he made contact with my lower right side. I winced but used his closeness against him, wrapping my left arm around his right bicep, taking hold of his wrist with my right hand. Holding him in place, his chest against mine, he fought uselessly to free himself.

I could have squeezed hard enough to make him drop the knife. I could have.

Instead, I bent his arm, forcing the knife in toward his body. Slowly. He struggled, pushed back, and could have dropped it at any time.

There was one moment—the length of a heartbeat—when our eyes locked. I saw the fear there. I saw everything he could have been. The friend he used to be. The potential that had been wasted.

I saw who he was today before sliding the bloodstained knife between his ribs and slashing him open.

Taking a deep breath, I watched the emotions that passed over his face—surprise, followed by pain, followed by grim certainty. I saw it unfold, watching him realize his life was over before I slid the knife free so blood could pour over his pale blue shirt. He had already known he wouldn’t make it out of this room. He could’ve dropped the knife.

Instead, he dropped to his knees, pressing a hand uselessly against the flood soaking into the shirt and spilling onto his pants. “As usual, you had to take things too far,” I told him, watching as he fell to his side. The color drained from his face, leaving him a little paler with every beat of his heart. “It’s the last lesson you’ll ever learn.”

Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling, his breathing more shallow now. Strained. I lowered myself to one knee, enjoying every moment more than I should have. It never had to be this way. He did this.

“I told you, didn’t I?” I asked, staring into his face, watching the life leach out of him. “I told you I would watch you take your last breaths. I told you the last thing you would ever see is my smile. And here we are.”

Glancing up at Dad, I whispered, “Say hi to your dad for me when you get there. He died like the rat he was. I was there.”

He bared his teeth, panting weakly, his eyes searching my face. “Fuck… you…” he whispered before coughing and sending blood running down the sides of his face.

To the end, he had to play the tough guy.

“Whatever you say.” And as I watched, the light faded from his eyes, they went unfocused, staring at something over my shoulder before he released one final breath.

It was over.

Witnessing his final breath drained me of what little strength I had left. I fell to my side, the room suddenly spinning while the entire world went foggy.

“Grayson!” Dad’s voice rang out, sharp, getting louder as he came closer. “What is it?”

Looking at my torso, I finally realized the problem. I had dismissed it before now, but there was no dismissing the blood soaking through my shirt from under the hand I’d pressed against the knife wound. There was so much of it, coating my fingers in warmth. Dad shouted orders, his voice distorted now, fading.

“Tell Scarlet,” I whispered, fighting for the breath to speak while everything went fuzzy. “Tell her… she’s safe.”

Then I closed my eyes, now so heavy, and was glad I did when I saw Scarlet before me. Her hazel eyes sparkled, her face shone in peaceful happiness. If I could only touch her one more time…

She was safe.

I did it.

I loved her the only way I could.

20

SCARLET

The last thing I expected to find after prying open my swollen eyes was a stranger standing at the foot of the bed. For a split second, I was sure I was dreaming and was ready to close my eyes again and hide from the world. Grayson was gone. He could have saved Mom, or maybe he couldn’t have and only told himself otherwise. I still didn’t know what it all meant. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Sleep was easier.

Suddenly, my supposedly imaginary friend cleared his throat, and I realized this was very real. My eyes flew open, and any thoughts of a hangover were quickly swept aside. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, holding up his hands while his green eyes widened. “I knocked for a couple of minutes and became worried when I didn’t get an answer.”

Vaughn. It was Vaughn, who, of course, would have a key to get into the suite. Now, I regretted falling onto the bed without bothering to take off my dress. Then again, maybe not, since it would have meant being discovered half naked. It was bad enough my makeup had to be all over my face after the crying I did last night, finally falling asleep after weeping for what felt like hours and very well could have been.

“I guess I really passed out.” Glancing at the clock, I almost gasped in surprise. Nine thirty already? It didn’t feel possible that I had slept for so long.

Finally, reality started to trickle in, and I realized what this was all about. With a sinking heart, I looked up at him, running a self-conscious hand under my eyes and picking up smudges. “I guess this is when I leave, right? He told me it would all be settled by now.” I couldn’t say his name.

“No one is going to kick you out.” He seemed genuine, even if his voice was a little tight. His body language screamed awkwardness, but then, who wouldn’t at a moment like this?

“But I still should go, right? I understand.” How is he? Where is he? Why couldn’t he do this himself? So many questions, all of them clamoring to be heard.

Vaughn slid a hand into his inside breast pocket. “I have something for you. Grayson gave it to me last night.”

Even hearing his name was painful, but what hurt worse was accepting the envelope Vaughn held out. “He gave me a few other things for you, but said I should let you read that first,” he explained. “I can wait out here for you, in the living room. Take your time.”

He only thought he wanted me to take my time. Really? I was so overwhelmed, I wasn’t sure I had it in me to do more than stare at my name printed so carefully in black ink on white paper. I’d fall asleep weeping over Grayson, convinced I hated him, hurting and screaming into the pillow.

Now, here I was, fighting for air, my heart fluttering wildly.

First, I opened the envelope, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and placing the paper on the nightstand, staring down at it when my hands shook too hard to read what he’d written.

Scarlet,

I asked Vaughn to give you everything you’ll need after tonight. He has the account information, bank cards, passwords to log in, and the location of your car. I am going to bring all of this to an end so you can be free to start again. I hope you understand someday why things had to be this way.

Dominic has to go. I’ve arranged a truce with my dad for tonight. He has his reasons for helping me, and I have to trust he’ll make good on his word. Still, I like to have a backup plan. I wanted to be sure someone could explain everything to you in case I couldn’t be the one to do it.

I want you to know that when I leave you tonight, the way I need to, it’s the last thing I want to do. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished things were different. How I’ve wished I was different, too, but then I couldn’t have kept you safe when you needed me if I were anyone other than myself. And if the only good thing I do in my life is clear the way for you, then that’s fine because you’re worth it.

Take the money and go wherever you want to go. Don’t be afraid of turning into anyone other than yourself, whoever that turns out to be. You can choose for yourself. It’s up to you now.

If it helps, know that I love you.

This is the only way I could think to give you the life you deserve.

Live it well.

Grayson

Know that I love you. I read the words again and again, my heart so full it could burst, tears rolling down my cheeks and cutting through the stains left behind last night. He loved me. Whatever he did, he did it because he loved me.

Which launched me off the bed and across the room so I could fling open the door. Vaughn waited by the windows, typing something into his phone. He slid it into his pocket when I entered the room. Is that guilt on his face? “Where is he?” I demanded, panting for air. He loved me, and he was on his own somewhere, and I needed to find him.

“Excuse me?” Vaughn asked with a silent laugh.

“Please, don’t stall. Where is Grayson?” I asked again, this time with a whine in my voice. I was that desperate and overwhelmed by emotion. He loved me. “What did he do last night? I have to find him, please. Help.”

“I don’t think that’s what he wants, Scarlet.” He ran a hand over his sandy blond hair, sighing deeply. “Grayson gave me instructions, and I want to honor them.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s dead.”

That was when he did the worst thing imaginable. He winced.

I crossed my arms over my stomach because I would have sworn somebody kicked me in it. No, it wasn’t possible. I wouldn’t believe it. “What did he do? Where is he?” I whispered, shaking, ready to be sick.

Releasing a breath, he slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “He wouldn’t want me to tell you.”

“But—”

With a scowl, he snapped, “Let me finish. He wouldn’t want me to tell you, but he’s wrong. From what I understand, he got out of surgery a couple of hours ago. He was badly injured in a fight.”

I couldn’t stand around and wait to hear more. I had a direction now, a purpose. “Give me five minutes, then take me to him. Please. I have to see him.” Before Vaughn could say anything, I was out of the room and unzipping my dress, scrambling for something else to put on, my head spinning and my heart thumping, pumping determination through my veins.

Whatever happened, it happened because he loved me.

Did he honestly think I was going to stay away?

Within twenty minutes, we stood outside a glass-walled room in the ICU. Vaughn held a quiet conversation with a doctor before joining me, standing by my side as I stared tearfully into Grayson’s room. He looked so small in the bed, so helpless, tubes in his arms and sensors on his chest, sending a tangle of wires to a machine beeping rhythmically behind him.

He had to live. He just had to.

I refused to accept any other outcome. How could I live through it if he didn’t make it? Just seeing him like this left me swaying and biting my tongue to keep from screaming at him to please wake up.

“He came around briefly when surgery was over,” Vaughn told me in a quiet voice. “But since then, he’s been unconscious. The knife came close to his bowel and nicked his kidney. He lost a lot of blood. In the end, though, he was very lucky.”

“Who brought him in?” I asked, catching fresh tears with a trembling hand. I’d washed my face before leaving the suite, but I probably looked like hell just the same.

“A couple of his guys. One of them called me,” he explained. “Grayson did some work for me not long ago, and he must have told them to call me if things went wrong.”

“Did they tell you… anything else?”

I looked up in time to see him shake his head. “No. No details.”

I would have to wait for Grayson to wake up, and I would. They could drag me out of his room if they wanted me to leave. There was nowhere else I wanted to be.

As it turned out, I wasn’t alone with him the entire time. Around an hour after I camped out in an armchair next to the bed, an older man appeared on the other side of the glass wall between us and the hallway. Tall, handsome, if a bit weathered. Well-dressed, if a little disheveled, like he threw on the first things his hands landed on without bothering to check if it was ironed. He looked like an older version of the man in the bed.

Our eyes met. His head tipped to the side in a way that told me he knew who he was looking at.

I knew him too. There was only one person he could be. My blood ran cold even as my face went hot. So this was the man who changed my life by murdering my mother, whether he meant to do it or not. I had spent years paying for his sin.

I couldn’t keep him away from his son, though that didn’t mean I had to share the room with him. When he entered, I stood, ready to trade places, looking anywhere but at the man who symbolized everything that had gone wrong. “I’ll give you your time with him,” I mumbled, tucking my hair behind my ears with trembling hands.

“No, no,” he insisted. “Please. I wanted to see him for myself and make sure he’s hanging in. A phone call isn’t the same.”

Good for him. A real Father of the Year candidate. “I hope you understand why I wouldn’t want to be here with you, just the same.” My voice was cold, barely holding back the years of anger, questions, and pain I had stored up deep in my heart. Slowly, I lifted my gaze to find his features pinching together in pain, and somehow that pain gave me the strength to keep going. “You did a good thing by helping Grayson last night, and you helped me by doing it, but it doesn’t erase everything else. You took an innocent woman’s life, and you destroyed mine.”

“I’ve done a lot of things I’ve come to regret,” he mused. My muscles stiffened in apprehension when his dark eyes—just like his son’s—met mine. I was looking into the eyes of a cold-blooded murderer. “But nothing compares to the night I took so much from you.”

“I wish your words meant anything,” I whispered, fighting back tears. “I wish they could bring her back, but they can’t. Anybody can say they’re sorry fifteen years later. I wonder if you ever thought of her once after everything was cleaned up and brushed under the rug.”

“The truth?” His shoulders sagged. “All the time. It was because of her that my son cut me out of his life. There hasn’t been a minute I haven’t regretted making that stupid, careless mistake. I didn’t know there was anyone else in the house. I swear.”

“You also never bothered finding out who she was or trying to make things right for her daughter,” I reminded him. “But nothing we say now can change that. You’ll always have to live knowing what you did and everything you lost. I guess that’s punishment enough.”

Nodding slowly, he murmured, “You’re right. It has been. I’ll have to live with that. Thank you for putting it to me straight.” With a glance at Grayson, he asked, “Will you let him know I came to check on him? It doesn’t have to be right away, so long as he knows I came.”

That much I could do, so I nodded before turning away from him and looking at his son. The only man in the room with the guts to do the right thing when there was nothing in it for him. Soft footsteps faded as his father left the room until I finally dropped into the chair again, shaking and crying. I never figured I’d get the chance to face the man who made me an orphan, and of course, now there were a hundred things I wished I’d said, but maybe I’d get the chance to say them someday.

I mulled it over for a couple of hours, watching television without paying attention, listening to the incessant beeping from the numerous machines until the sound faded into the background of my troubled thoughts. It wasn’t until Grayson started to stir that I realized how long I’d been sitting and thinking.

“Dad?” It was the first thing he said, his voice raspy, eyes still closed.

I was barely able to hold back a sob as I leaned closer to the bed. “He was here before, but now it’s just me.” There I went again, tearing up as my hand covered his, lying limply on the blanket. “Scarlet. I’m here.”

That got his eyes open, though slowly. He turned his head, gazing at me for a moment before his forehead creased. “Shouldn’t have told you. I’m going… to kick his ass.”

“I don’t think he cares,” I whispered with a shaky smile. “And you’re not in any condition to kick anybody’s ass, anyway.”

He didn’t see the humor. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I was hoping⁠—”

“I know what you were hoping, and I hope you know your friends care enough about you that they know when it’s time to ignore your instructions.” Reaching out, I stroked his hair, smiling through my tears. I didn’t imagine being able to do this again. “I don’t know exactly what you did, but I know you don’t deserve to be alone.”

“It’s over.” For the first time since regaining consciousness, he kept his eyes open long enough to stare into mine. “It’s over now. I want you to know that. You’re free.”

“You mean you—” He gave his head the tiniest nod. My throat tightened as inexpressible emotion welled up in me. I knew he didn’t do it just for me. It was for Jack too.

“Don’t you see?” He licked his parched lips. “You don’t want to be with me. I’m trying to do this for you. I don’t want to. But I have to.”

“And what about me? What about what I want? Because you know what I see in front of me now?” Turning my head, I slowly and deliberately scanned the length of his body. “I see a man who almost died last night, and all because you stood up for me when you could’ve looked the other way. You put everything on the line for me. How can you tell me I don’t want to be with you? How do you know how I feel?”

He released a weary sigh before closing his eyes again. I hated hearing it almost as much as I detested seeing his gray pallor and the lines running into his arms, not that it changed anything. “You know what I’m trying to say.”

“I know you have this idea about yourself,” I whispered back. Somehow, I had to get through to him. The one thought that repeated in my head for hours last night was how pointless everything seemed now. How hopeless. What was the use of anything if I had to live the rest of my life alone? “You think you’re so dark and wrong. Like you could’ve done anything to save my mother’s life that night. I know you couldn’t have. So you turned your back on all of it and tried to be better, do better, which is how I know you are a good man at heart. I see it. I feel it. All you have to do is believe it yourself.”

His jaw worked, revealing his indecision and the way he fought with himself. Why did he have to fight so hard? “It’s not that simple.”

“It doesn’t have to be hard unless you want it to.” I squeezed his hand harder like it would do anything to make him understand. “Or you can listen to me and believe me. You can believe what Jack saw in you.”

His eyes closed, pain touching the corners of his mouth. I hated knowing I put it there, but some things a person needed to hear. “What do you think he would want you to do now?” I asked. It was a risk because I didn’t quite know what the answer was, but I had a feeling.

After drawing and releasing a few slow breaths, he grunted. “I just want to do what’s right for you.”

“What’s right for me is not being apart from you. I love you. I still love you.” Never more than now, seeing him like this, knowing how close we came to never having this moment. “Give yourself a chance. You wanted me to start over and build something new. You need to do the same thing. Forgive yourself. Move on. Let me be next to you while you do it. That’s all I want.”

“You can still say you love me?” He turned his hand over to clasp mine, squeezing with surprising strength considering his condition. But then, he was a strong man. He could take a lot.

“I don’t deserve you. I’m not only saying that. I know it’s true.” He paused for a breath before adding, “But if you’d give me a chance, I would do everything I could to make up for my mistakes. I can’t promise it will be easy or that I’ll be able to change into a better man overnight, but I will try. Dammit, Scarlet, I will try for you, for us.”

“So long as you don’t try too hard.” Winking, I explained, “I kind of like you the way you are.”

A smile slowly spread, lighting up his face. “I’m not stupid enough to pass up a second chance. The last thoughts I had before I passed out were of you. I thought I was dying.” Staring up into my eyes, he murmured, “Maybe I did. Maybe I’m in heaven now.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re very much alive.” And he was very much mine. I wasn’t letting him go, not now. He was right. Second chances were rare.

“Who says I’m disappointed?” he asked with a grin before I bent to kiss him.

“I’m not sure what to say.”

“Just say whatever is in your heart. I don’t have to be here,” I reminded Grayson, standing a few feet behind him on a bluff overlooking a crystal blue lake. The first rays of morning sunlight were beginning to pierce the sky in the east, peeking over the treetops. I could see my breath—the morning air was cool, crisp, revitalizing.

We weren’t outside to enjoy the weather this morning. It had taken the two months since Grayson’s injury to decide what to do with Jack’s ashes once his body had been cremated. “He wouldn’t want to live on the mantle,” he said, though I had to wonder if the man really would have had an opinion either way, seeing as he never left any final wishes.

It was more a matter of what Grayson wanted for him. Since Jack had always dreamed of moving out to Lake Tahoe after retirement, it seemed a good place to spread his ashes. Now, he would always be part of this special place.

Grayson held the urn in his hands, staring down at the contents. “Now that we’re here, trying to do this, I’m at a loss. I don’t know where to begin. You didn’t have to do anything you did for me, Jack. You didn’t have to decide I was worth guiding.”

My chest ached at the way his voice broke ever so slightly. Just enough to reveal the pain he was fighting to hide. Even now, when it was the two of us and nobody else, he thought he needed to hide his emotions. Reaching out, I brushed a hand against his shoulder but said nothing. I wanted to be sure he knew I was there, supporting him. He didn’t have to be alone.

His spine stiffened, and his shoulders rolled back like he was bolstering himself. Pride threatened to choke me. This had to be terrible, crushing. He had avoided it for so long until it was clear he had to do it for his own sake.

This trip was about closure—new beginnings.

For both of us.

Releasing a deep breath, he turned his head slowly from one side to the other, taking in the expansive view. “If it hadn’t been for you, I would have ended up in prison or dead… no doubt about it. You showed me there was a better way. You forced me a lot of the time. You nudged and prodded and insisted. You refused to give up.”

Tipping his head back to gaze up at the bright, cloudless sky, he added, “You never gave up.”

Tears blurred my vision and clogged my throat. What a shame I was never able to meet Jack. He must have been an extraordinary man. Thank you for rescuing him for me, I whispered in my heart, closing my eyes, forcing the tears over my lashes and down my cheeks. Blinking back the rest, I watched Grayson tip the urn slowly.

“Thank you,” he murmured as the ashes began to spill out. The morning breeze caught them and carried them away as we watched. “Thank you, Jack.”

And then it was over.

A feeling of peace settled over me as I stepped up beside Grayson and ran a hand over his back. “Are you okay?” I whispered, studying his face, looking for any signs of what he was going through.

“Yeah. I think so.” He managed a brief grin before sighing. “I think he would’ve wanted it this way. No fuss, no emotional over-the-top shit.”

After one last look at the lake, we took the short hike back to the cabin. It was a beautiful, perfect morning that made a person believe in possibilities. We could both have closure now. Grayson might never have a relationship with his dad, but they had patched things up when it counted. As for me, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to forgive the man for what he did to Mom. If I’d learned anything over the past few months, though, it was how unpredictable life could be. If forgiveness came, it would take time, but it might be worth it since, in the end, forgiveness would help heal me.

What mattered was, in a twist of fate, losing her meant Grayson’s salvation. She was the catalyst. She and Jack had saved him in their respective ways.

They had saved me too. I would be alone in the world if it weren’t for him. I now knew the joy of waking up next to him every morning after moving into his spacious but comfortable home. We were building a life together, a real life, the kind with a future attached.

“I never thought much about the future,” he’d admitted not long after I had finished unpacking and settling in. “I never imagined a woman living here with me, but I’m liking it already.”

Thank you, Mom, I thought as we closed in on the familiar cabin, walking hand in hand. You saved him for me to love.

Right now, loving him meant following him inside and going straight to the kitchen. “I can get breakfast started,” I offered. “That morning air really wakes up my appetite.”

He caught me on the way, though, taking me by my hand and pulling me up short. What a difference, seeing nothing but love in his eyes when he pulled me close. No conflict, no darkness. The past couple of months we’ve spent together after his injury had done wonders for him. He was trying hard to move on, and so was I. We were helping each other.

My heart swelled when he stared into my eyes, and a smile tipped the corners of his mouth. Stroking my cheeks with his thumbs, he murmured, “Thank you for being here with me.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be. Besides…” I added with a grin, “… this is the cabin where I fell in love with you.”

“This is a pretty special place. I fell in love with you here too. It took time for my brain to catch up with my heart,” he explained before leaning down for a kiss, then another. “But I’m glad it did,” he added before kissing me until my knees went weak. Each one was deeper than the last, lighting a fire in my core and awakening an appetite that had nothing to do with food.

I wound my arms around his neck, clinging to him as desire took over, when just a minute ago, I was ready to make breakfast. This was much better, especially when his voice rasped in my ear. “I love you. I need you.”

He gripped my hips and pulled me in against his already growing erection, melting me the way he always did. “Can you wait for breakfast?” he asked, one hand sliding around to cup my ass cheek. His touch was fire, burning my skin through my leggings. Suddenly, I wanted them gone, with not a stitch of clothing between us. I needed to feel his body against mine, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.

“I could live on this,” I told him, giggling when he lifted me off my feet, carrying me the short distance to the bedroom. He couldn’t wait to reach the bed, turning and pinning me to the wall next to the door. Taking my wrists, he lifted them above my head and held them in place with one of his hands while the other slid down my side.

His hot breath mingled with mine, coming faster and sharper as he rolled his hips, grinding his dick against me. “I will never get enough of you,” he growled, making my pussy flood in response to his words and his touch—hungry, demanding, undoing me with every caress the way he always did. We had done this so many times, but it was always like this.

His touch was magic.

And his kiss? I moaned in his mouth as his tongue swept over mine, probing in time with his insistent thrusts against me. I tugged my arms, wanting to touch, wanting to soak in the softness of his hair and the firmness of his rippling muscles. He only held on tighter, forcing me to take everything he wanted to give.

When that included tugging at the waistband of my leggings, I wiggled my hips to help him, panting for every ragged breath I managed to pull in. My thong was stuck to my shaved mound by the time he peeled it away from my skin so his fingers could slide through my slickness.

“Oh, yes,” I panted, jerking my hips to move against him to increase the friction. Nothing mattered but getting more, every movement driven by my throbbing clit. “Yes, make me come.”

“I love getting you hot like this,” he grunted, lapping at my throat until I let my head fall to the side so he could reach more of me. His teeth grazed my skin, making me shiver, making me bear down against his hand while I fought to free mine. I needed to feel him, rake my nails over his skin, and hear his grunts and hisses.

“Let me touch you,” I begged while his fingers worked me, making me more desperate, more needy, moaning with every breath.

“Not until you come for me. Can you do that?” he asked, teasing my mouth with his tongue, tracing my lips before nipping with his teeth until I strained for more.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” he urged, rolling the tip of his finger over my clit in tight circles, teasing my entrance with another finger, almost killing me with more sensation than I could handle all at once. The tension built, my core burning, my pussy sopping and aching to the point of pain. I couldn’t take much more of this.

“God… yes!” I sobbed, arching my back, jerking my hips.

“Do it for me.” His tongue painted my skin, his voice more like an animal’s growl. “Soak my hand, baby. Let me feel it.”

I could have screamed in relief when the tension finally broke, and I shattered around him. It was delicious, blissful, the pleasure rolling over me in a series of waves that made me writhe helplessly. Finally, he let go of my wrists, and my arms fell to my sides, my body limp with relief.

He was anything but limp. “I’m not finished with you yet.” It was so easy for him to pick me up, place me on the soft bed, and remove the rest of my clothes. I pushed up on my elbows to watch him strip down, my eyes traveling over his familiar but still exquisite body. I had memorized every inch and still couldn’t get enough of his rippling abs and thick thighs, the way light played off the planes and ridges.

And he was all mine. All of him, body and soul. Love and lust were a strong cocktail, and I was drunk off of it by the time he lowered himself over me, taking one of my legs and draping it over his hip, making room for himself between my thighs.

He was rigid, dripping, his swollen head sliding through my sensitive, wet folds as his mouth and hands explored. His helpless groans mingled with mine, louder when I indulged in the feel of his muscles moving under his skin. I dragged my nails down his back before sinking them into his ass, pulling him closer, demanding while my head rolled from side to side on the cotton duvet.

“Is that what you want?” he whispered, lifting his head from my boobs, dark eyes blazing. Oh God, yes, that’s what I want to see. That fire, that heat, the passion burning inside him.

Getting up on his knees, he lifted my hips, lining me up with him. We had stopped using condoms since I was on the pill, so there was nothing between us as he began slowly, teasingly working his way inside me. Probing my entrance before pulling back, dragging out the torture until I held my breath, my whole body tensed in anticipation.

He chuckled darkly before ending the torment, holding me in place and pushing forward until he was inside me, where he belonged, where I always wanted him. “Oh fuck,” I moaned, closing my eyes to focus on the feeling of his thick shaft filling me up. “Yes, that’s good. So… good.”

“So fucking tight,” he groaned, fighting the way he always did against the impulse to let go, waiting until the urge passed before pulling back to slide in deeper so his wide head could stretch me again. It was enough to make my thighs quiver with every sure, deep stroke.

“Look at me,” he grunted, forcing my eyes open when he dug his fingers into my flesh, pressing to the point of pain. “I love to look into your eyes when you come on my cock.”

If he kept up the talk, it wouldn’t be much longer until I did just that. There was nothing like this side of him, his magnificent body flexing and moving, the thin sheen of sweat covering his skin the longer he worked, the crunching of his abs, and the flexing of his biceps as he pulled me closer, moving me in time with his strokes. Using my body, fucking himself with me. It was hypnotic, so hot, and soon I was lost in him and the magic we made together.

“Grayson,” I begged, planting my feet on the bed, using the leverage to move with him, to grind against his base, making him moan the way I did.

“Getting tighter.” Tendons stood out on his neck, and his skin flushed by the time he lost his rhythm, rutting now, racing to the end. Letting go of my hips, he fell forward onto his forearms. This was how I liked it best. Close enough to inhale his cologne and sweat, to taste it on his skin while he moved inside me, on top of me, his body sliding against mine.

“Come with me,” I moaned, holding him closer as the tension grew until it threatened to break. “Come for me, Grayson.”

“Fuck… Scarlet…” Our bodies clapped together harder, faster until he slammed deep one last time and unlocked a primal scream that started in my curled toes and filled the room. I spasmed around him, filled with his warmth, crying out my release the way he did against my neck.

I meant it when I said I could live on this. The connection, the pleasure he brought to life in me, the thrill of giving myself over to him, knowing I would never regret it.

And loving the edge of danger he still possessed.

There was none of that in his dazed grin once he raised his head to look down at me. I raked dark hair away from his forehead before brushing my lips against it. “Forget being outdoorsy while we’re here,” I said with a breathless laugh. “I’d rather get my exercise this way.”

“You won’t get an argument out of me.” He squeezed me, growling suggestively before devouring my neck while I giggled and squirmed. How he still had the energy was a mystery I didn’t need to solve. I was too busy enjoying every second.

And after almost losing him, I had learned that every second counted.

And I planned to make the most of each one.

EPILOGUE

JACKSON

This was fine.

I could handle this.

People sat down for lunch with the ex who ghosted them all the time, right? Even men like me, who’d either fired or fucked half the dancers in Las Vegas over my years as a producer.

Not that Winter Monroe was technically an ex. We had never made it official, considering she was my principal dancer back when we were together. Maybe if I had grown a spine and approached the idea of a relationship, she wouldn’t have disappeared like she had, packing up and heading overseas, leaving me to wonder what the hell happened. What went wrong?

That was neither here nor there at this point. Four years had passed by the time I sat waiting for her to join me for lunch now that she’d returned to the States. When I first heard of the hot new show that held Riviera audiences captive for over a year of sold-out performances, I had no idea she’d choreographed and even co-produced the production.

I only knew after watching a few clips online that I needed it. Something fresh, new, exciting. Something to revitalize my family’s stale brand. I was sick to death of putting on the same show time after time, playing it safe to appeal to the brainless masses. We needed fresh blood, new ideas.

That meant I’d jumped at the opportunity to purchase the rights once I heard the show’s producers wanted to expand to the States, Las Vegas being the obvious choice.

I was surprised to say the least, when Winter accepted this meeting invitation without making me wait. Then again, I was the one who’d been ghosted, not her.

Not that I could complain. I hadn’t exactly spent four years pining over her, saving myself in case she came back. Grudges were a waste of time and got in the way of work. Fun too. Nobody wanted to blow the guy who couldn’t stop crying over the one who got away.

If anything, we might be able to enjoy ourselves a little. We could pick up where we left off. There were times I couldn’t help but remember how good it was, the way we worked so well together both on and off stage. I could definitely go for a diversion after years of dealing with temperamental dancers and emotional scenic designers.

A smile played over my lips as fantasies sprang to life, a smile I still wore when a familiar blonde stepped into the restaurant, removing her sunglasses before taking in the room with a single glance. One thing hadn’t changed over the years—the woman could still turn heads wherever she went.

She was just as I remembered—tall, lithe, moved with the sort of grace and complete control of a dancer, disciplined, devoted to her art. It showed in every move she made, right down to the casual flip of her shoulder-length blonde hair. I could almost feel it between my fingers now, like silk, and the memory threatened to make my dick stir like I needed a hard-on to start things off.

I sat up straighter, lifting a hand to catch her attention. Was I imagining the jolt of recognition that ran through her? The way she lifted her slightly pointed chin, the flash of emotion in her sapphire eyes before she took one step, then another in my direction? The cream pantsuit she wore was chic, something my mother would have loved. Europe had done her good, polished and refined her. She had left the States a wide-eyed girl with dreams of stardom and had returned looking like a woman of the world.

A woman who sat down across from me, accepting my handshake with a firm grip but little else to reveal our past involvement.

“Winter, this is a real pleasure,” I began, offering a smile from across the table. “Let me say how impressed I am with the work you’ve done. I’m thrilled to have a chance to work together now.”

She sized me up with her frank, unflinching stare, her full mouth barely twitching. Fuck, I had practiced that short speech, wanting to start us off on the right foot. She couldn’t be bothered to meet me halfway.

“I’m here because I know the kind of work you can do,” she explained in her rich, throaty voice. “But let me explain something here and now. I’m not the girl you used to know, and I’ve developed a reputation for being a hard-ass when it comes to bringing my vision to life. If you don’t think you can handle that, let me know now because there are plenty of producers in this town who would love the opportunity to put my show on stage.”

Okay, then. Shifting in my chair, I folded my hands on the table, something in me rousing at the challenge she posed. “Do you always start meetings so confrontationally?” I asked.

With a slight narrowing of her eyes, she replied, “Only when I know the person I’m sitting down with as well as I know you, Jackson.”

I didn’t know what was worse.

Her sour attitude.

Or how my body warmed when my name came tumbling from her glossy lips.

We had three months to get this show up and running.

Something told me they would be the longest three months of my life.

BURIED TRUTHS

One show. Three months. A secret that changes everything.

Winter

I swore I’d never let Jackson Bennett get under my skin again.

But one look and I’m right back where I started—wanting the one man who could ruin everything. He doesn’t know I left with more than just a broken heart.

He doesn’t know my secret.

And if his mother finds out I’m back, she’ll destroy us both.

Jackson

She ghosted me. Four years ago, Winter walked out without a word. Now she’s back with legs that still drive me crazy and a show I’d kill to produce. I should keep it business only, but the chemistry between us? Still explosive.

Only this time, she’s hiding something, and I’m not giving up until I find out what.

Get it here:

https://authormissywalker.com/collections/elite-men-of-las-vegas

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I loved writing Grayson and Scarlett’s story, and this one flowed out of me with an ease that reminded me why I love writing in the first place.

To my editors and proofreaders, thank you for catching what I couldn’t after reading the manuscript a gazillion times, until my eyes went square and I was this close to setting it on fire. (Editing is always so painful!)

And Kay—thank you for wearing so many hats and keeping me company when this writing gig gets lonely. Your seasoned advice is invaluable, but more than that, I treasure our friendship.

To my besties, thank you for always inviting me out, even when I can’t make it. I never take that for granted. I love you more than you know, value you endlessly, and thank you for being my best friends—even when my idea of socialising is staying home in pyjamas.

To my Missy Book Babes—my private Facebook group and my safe little corner of the internet. The laughs, the support, the comments you leave… I read every single one. Thank you to my day-one readers who’ve been here from the beginning, and to the new faces who’ve found me along the way. You’re the reason I get to do this.

And lastly, to my family, who put up with my mood swings—peri ones, deadline ones, and everything in between. I love you more than words.

Stay Fabulous,

Missy x

JOIN MISSY'S CLUB

Hear about exclusive book releases, teasers, discounts and book bundles before anyone else.

Sign up to Missy’s newsletter here:

www.authormissywalker.com

Become part of Missy’s Facebook Reader Group where we chat all things books, releases and of course fun giveaways!

https://www.facebook.com/groups/missywalkersbookbabes

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Missy is an Australian author who writes kissing books with equal parts angst and steam. Stories about billionaires, forbidden romance, and second chances roll around in her mind probably more than they ought to.

When she’s not writing, she’s taking care of her two daughters and doting husband and conjuring up her next saucy plot.

Inspired by the acreage she lives on, Missy regularly distracts herself by visiting her orchard, baking naughty but delicious foods, and socialising with her girl squad.

Then there’s her overweight cat—Charlie, chickens, and border collie dog—Benji if she needed another excuse to pass the time.

If you like Missy Walker’s books, consider leaving a review and following her here:

instagram.com/missywalkerauthor

facebook.com/AuthorMissyWalker

tiktok.com/@authormissywalker

bookbub.com/profile/missy-walker

ALSO BY MISSY WALKER

Elite men of Las Vegas - Coming 2026

Sinfully Bound

Burning Rivalry

Savage Protector

Buried Truths

Stolen Kiss

Final Vow

Elite men of Los Angeles

Scarred Heart

Broken Rules

Reluctantly Yours

Entangled Vow

Velvet Sin

Boundless Love

Elite Men of Manhattan

Forbidden Lust*

Forbidden Love*

Lost Love

Missing Love

Guarded Love

Infinite Love Novella

Elite Heirs of Manhattan

Seductive Hearts

Sweet Surrender

Sinful Desires

Silent Cravings

Sensual Games

Endless Love

Elite Mafia of New York Series

Cruel Lust*

Stolen Love

Finding Love

Slater Siblings Series

Hungry Heart

Chained Heart

Iron Heart

Small Town Desires Series

Trusting the Rockstar

Trusting the Ex

Trusting the Player

*Forbidden Lust/Love are a duet and to be read in order.

*Cruel Lust, Stolen Love and Finding Love are a trilogy and to be read in order.

All other books are stand alones.