Resting my chin on his shoulder, I trapped my lip between my teeth again, worrying the sensitive skin. He took a step back, and I looked up at him.
“I want to tell you, but I can’t. Not yet. I’m sorry.”
He played with my hair, running his hands through it. I knew I would never stop enjoying the way that man touched me like he couldn’t get enough. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation even while guilt threatened to tear me apart.
I expected him to protest or push harder for answers, but instead, he simply kissed my forehead and said, “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”
I opened my eyes, willing myself not to cry, and just drank in the sight of him. This would be so much easier if he was an asshole. If I didn’t love him. He and his brother both. I was so fucked.
Would they hate me?
Would they ever forgive me?
Would they regret every moment, every touch, every kiss?
My racing thoughts were interrupted by the dinging of the oven, letting me know it was preheated. I kissed him, then returned my attention to the mess behind me.
“I do want to tell you,” I whispered, but I don’t think he heard me.
As I finished putting the final touches on the chicken parmesan I was making, he went and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Leaning against the counter, he sipped on his drink and watched me. With dinner in the oven, I reached for my glass that he had poured for me. I leaned next to him, and for a few moments, wejust stood in silence. He had opened his mouth to say something when his brother walked in, grabbed himself a glass, and poured a generous measure.
Something was upsetting Mac—I could see it in the way that muscle along his jaw jumped because he was grinding his teeth.
He leaned against the counter across from Dalton and me. His eyes ran over my body like a drowning man searching for a lifebuoy. I cocked my head at him, silently asking him what was on his mind. Dalton’s eyes flicked between his brother and me, sipping at his whiskey and waiting for the conversation to start. After a minute, Mac finally spoke.
“Dalton and I are heading out soon, Vixen.”
I frowned at him. “What for?”
I glanced at Dalton, who didn’t seem phased by the news, and kept his eyes on his brother.
“Silas and Luca are moving a shipment. A big one. I need you to get the motel rooms ready. Clean sheets, make sure all the lights work, spotless. I’ll talk to Holly and Maria before we head out; they’ve helped before. And—” he hesitated, looking between me and his brother and the floor. Those blue eyes troubled like a stormy sea. “Grab some kids’ toys. Girls’ toys. Put those in a few rooms, too.”
It took everything in me to keep my jaw from dropping. I’d learned at that awful dinner that the motel rooms were often used for victims of sex trafficking—the few women they could get away from the DiAngelos without too much fuss. And I knew, from my training, that Luca DiAngelo traded in women like a cowboy did cattle. But kids’ toys? That could only mean one thing… Children weren’t easy to sneak out; their freedom did not come cheap. As much as it disgusted me, I knew that children brought in the most money for scumbags like the DiAngelos.
Why would Dalton and Mac risk everything they’ve been workingtoward?
Unless they had finally decided that enough was enough.
Unless this marked the beginning of the end, and they were ready to give Silas the boot.
I looked over at Mac, who was watching me carefully. I knew that if I were to give any sign, any hint of discomfort, he would have someone else do my job. When I squared my shoulders and lifted my jaw, the faint glint of approval I saw in his eyes made me want to preen like a love bird. I ignored the oven when it dinged and walked over to Mac instead. Wrapping my arms around his waist as best I could, I stood on tiptoes and kissed his stubbled jaw. I was faintly aware of Dalton pulling dinner out of the oven, and setting it on the counter. Mac pulled me into him and, when he leaned in for a kiss, I opened for him eagerly. I loved the taste of this man—a delicious combination of coffee and whiskey and mint. I pulled away from the kiss reluctantly and stepped back, looking between the two men I had grown to love despite my best efforts not to.
“Please promise me you’ll be careful.”
“We’ve done this a hundred times, baby girl.”
I shot Dalton an admonishing look. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me. This is different. You know it, I know it, Mac knows it…”
He flashed me a crooked, apologetic smile, and glanced at his brother who said, “You’re right, gorgeous. This is different.”
“I told you those killer instincts were going to be trouble. We can’t keep her in the dark forever.”
I nodded, agreeing with Dalton. Part of me wanted the full story so I could protect them as best I could, while another part wanted it so I could do my job.
“What he said. Don’t you trust me?”
You shouldn’t.But I want you to. I kept that part to myself.
