“We?” I growl.
Evie swallows, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was you, Silas. I was only ever thinking about you.”
“I know, little fox,” I murmur, cupping her face. She turns into my palm, leaning into the touch, and my foolish heart kicks against my ribs. “But this is so much bigger than you know.”
I turn, boots crunching over gravel as I stalk toward Mark. He’s standing, his body tense and covered in blood.
“You look ready to run.” He straightens his spine, jaw clenching. “I might let you—if you tell me everything you know about the southern circuit.”
Mark keeps his mouth shut.
“Tsk, tsk.” I smirk, pacing with my hands behind my back, careful to avoid the mess Andrew left behind. My nose wrinkles as I glance down, noting how the stains on his pants mix with the blood pooling beneath his corpse. Humans really are disgusting.
“Pride will be your downfall. That particular sin has never been a problem for me, but do you know what has?”
Mark’s nostrils flare. But I see the fear in his eyes, note the beads of sweat forming across his brow.
He lunges, swinging for my ribs. I let the punch land, laughing through the pain as I ride the high, living for the next hit of adrenaline. Too quickly, I have him crumpled on the ground at my feet. Blood trickles from a cut above his eye. The blow to his temple probably has him seeing stars, but I made sure to keep his mouth intact—for her.
“How long have you been running the circuit for Shane?”
Mark spits on my boots. My fist connects with his jaw before I have time to think. Bonescrunchas the skin over his cheek splits. So much for keeping his face pretty.
“That was rude,” I say, wiping blood off on his shirt. “Let’s try this again, shall we? I wouldn’t want to kill you before you’ve had the chance to beg for her forgiveness.”
Panting, Mark glances toward Evie, perched in front of my motorcycle before glaring up at me. “You’ll let me go if I do what? Say sorry?”
“When’s the next shipment?” I ask, ignoring his idiotic question. Of course, I won’t let him go. His death certificate was signed the moment he touched Evie.
“Not for another two weeks,” he says, jerking his head toward her. “I didn’t realize she was yours. She’ll do well if you’re looking to sell.”
My fists flex, but I hold the rage in check.Just a little longer.
“Where?”
“L.A.,” he answers. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard. I haven’t made contact yet.”
Now that he thinks I’m just a pushy client, the tension across his shoulders loosens. I fucking hate that he thinks we’re the same.
“I was sent from Vegas to investigate missing shipments, but supposedly Shane is out of the game. Yielded the territory to someone else.”
“Who?”
“Someone named Jonah. I haven’t seen or heard from him yet.”
“Waiting on Shane?”
“I’ll put you in contact as soon as I can.” He nods, glancing over my shoulder. “If I were you, I’d break her in a bit first.”
I follow his gaze to Evie, tilting my head like I’m considering it. Luring the fly into the web.
“You think so?”
“What is he talking about?” Evie asks, voice rough.
“If the little bitch just took a sip, she would’ve been mine,” Mark says wistfully, clearing his throat a moment later when I don’t respond. “I would’ve shared her with you. And the others. Jameson told me to stay away, but we could’ve been working together this whole time.”
Mark’s chuckle dies in his throat, eyes widening when he sees the gun in my hand. I turn, angling my mask toward Evie.
