“What happened last night?”
“Why do you need to know? I thought you wanted plausible deniability,Mr. Lawyer,” Jamie said with enough sarcasm to make the air sting.
I ignored him, but secretly enjoyed that flicker ofpersonality slipping through his mask. Just a spark—but it made him real in a way that caught me off guard.
“Did he give up the names of people he answered to.”
Rio, Enzo, and Jamie exchanged brief glances—silent, guarded, as if they were about to clam up—and I wasn’t about to let that happen. Not when they’d made me part of this by pulling me in.
“Back the fuck off, Suit—we got this,” Jamie said, and no one corrected him.
“Awww, you gave me a nickname,Pretty? I like it.”
Jamie rolled his eyes with a scoff, muttering something that sounded a lot like “prick,” but there was heat in it. I caught the flash of something he didn’t mean to show—something tangled and charged. I’d gotten Caleb to dig into all the people at Redcars, watching out for Tudor, and for Jamie, there was a sealed juvenile record that Caleb had cracked. Parents buried in an unmarked grave. Then, the murder of an uncle and psychological jargon pretending to diagnose Jamie as if he were a case study, as if any label could ever contain someone like him. He was an intriguing fucking maze, all deadends and razor wire, and the more I learned, the more I wanted in.
I chuckled low in my throat, unable to help it. “God, you’re fun when you’re mad, Pretty.”
Jamie stepped forward then. “I swear?—”
“Hi, Killian,” Robbie joined us then, and I blinked—the surgery he’d had was enough for me to take a second look, enough to fool most people. “Is everything okay,” he asked and smiled as Enzo collected him under his arm and held him close.
“Hi, Robbie,” I said. “How are you doing? I love the new face.”
I turned up the charm to see if I could get a reaction, and he blushed—so damn cute I couldn’t help but stare. Enzo growled under his breath.
“Down boy,” I snarked, shooting him a grin, but it wasn’t only Enzo looking ready to snap. Jamie stepped between us, all sharp edges and stormy eyes. “Getting jealous of me checking out other guys, Pretty?” I deadpanned, reaching out to chuck him under the chin.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t jerk away.
Just let me touch him.
His skin was baby soft, like expensive lotion and sin, and for one stupid moment, I forgot howdangerous he was. I let my hand drift, fingers brushing along his jaw, thumb lingering a breath too long at the edge of his lower lip. His mouth parted enough to tempt, and that was when I knew I’d pushed it too far. His hand came up fast—crack!—knocking mine away like I’d burned him. The look in his eyes was all fire and ice.
“Bold of you to assume it’s jealousy and not me fitting you for a coffin,” he said coolly.
“Flirting and threats in the same breath. You really know how to keep a guy interested,” I smirked.
Jamie snorted. “The day I flirt with you is the day Hell freezes over, and I stop lighting matches.”
I leaned in close enough to make him twitch. “Well, if you ever get cold, I’ll keep you warm, sweetheart.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation blooming into something almost predatory. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip—slow and deliberate, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. A flicker of unconscious temptation? No. This was intentional. Teasing. My breath hitched. All I could think about was what he’d taste like, how he’d sound if I pushed him against a wall and kissed the fight right out of him.
“You wanna take whatever this is, outside?” Rio’s voice was dry and unimpressed from behind us.
“Outside?” Jamie raised an eyebrow. “We’re killing him. Can I go first?”
I snorted, couldn’t help it. “Nice to know I’m on your kill list, Pretty.”
Jamie’s glare could’ve stopped traffic.
Rio rolled his eyes, “the fuck is going on?”
“So, names?” I asked Rio, ignoring Jamie’s mumbled, “And I said we’ve got this,” as if I hadn’t heard it the first time.
“We need to take a beat on this, J,” Rio said first, low and even.
Jamie’s jaw tensed. “Rio?—”
