“For once,” I mutter, “we’re in agreement.”
“Chicks,” he says suddenly.
“What?”
“We need chicks for this job. Smart ones. Cold ones. The kind that won’t flinch at blood or lies. We don’t have time to babysit, and men talk too much.”
I pause. It’s a solid idea. And rare, coming from him.
“You got someone in mind?”
“I just might,” he answers. I canhearthe grin in his voice. Smug bastard.
“Karter, don’t play with me,” I bite. “My father’s circling. He’slooking for her.And you’re stalling.”
“I’ll drop the location,” he says, finally. “You can decide for yourself if she’s a good fit.”
A ping hits my phone. Message received.
“Don’t make me wait,” I say, and kill the call.
Traffic begins to crawl forward.
I open the message. Karter’s name flashes across my screen. I tap the link, GPS coordinates pop up like a loaded gun.
I plug them into my nav system. Let the truck do the driving.
But my mind’s alreadythere. Tracking every move. Playing every outcome.
And if he’s wrong about this? If she’s not where he says? If my father finds her first?
Then I’m not just burning the mole network to the ground.
I’m leveling theentire fucking city.
I’m crawling out of my skin.
The drive feels eternal, even with the GPS whispering directions in my ear like a siren trying to calm a storm.
But there’s no calming me, not with this kind of hunger gnawing at my insides. I need to see her. Touch her. Hear that bratty little mouth spit fire again so I can shut it with my own.
The neighborhood isn’t far from the city, but it’s quiet. Too clean. Too calm.
It reminds me of everything we’re not.Which makes me want toruin it.
I pass a few houses that look like magazine covers, neat lawns, manicured bushes, that plastic perfection. It makes me think of the fortress we built. Out in the woods. Behind gates and layers of secrets. Where people don’twanderin.
Where we bury the ones who try.
When I pull up to the house, it’s cozy, two stories, cream siding, and a porch swing. Not her style. Not mine either.
Still, I check the pin Karter dropped. It matches. He wasn’t lying. For once.
I don’t remember getting out of the truck. One second I’m parked. The next, I’m walking up the driveway with too much onmy mind and blood pounding in my cock from the thought of seeing her.
By the time I’m at the door, I’m seconds away from tearing it off the hinges. But I don’t have to.
It swings open before I can knock.
