Same old threat. He’s been saying that since he took office, but the problem is he can’t. The town loves us.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t take him seriously. Not because of his words, but because men like Winston never say something unless they’re already pulling strings. I clock the twitch of his eye, the minuscule shift in his jaw; all tells he can’t hide. He’s not just posturing. He’s planning.
Winston’s daughter, Darla, is a complication all her own. We have history; reckless, ill-advised history. We hooked up once. She latched on after that night, showing up more often than I ever wanted. It was a mistake, and one I’ve done my best not to repeat. But Darla’s not the type to let go easily.
He thinks she’s headed for some prepped-up Ivy League future, but she wants the chaos and sharp edges. Our world. She’s chasing it harder than ever, sneaking into the clubhouse every chance she gets.
I glance across the room. Darla sits beside her mother, composed and perfectly dressed. A picture of propriety. But I know better. That polish is a mask. Beneath it, she’s still the same girl looking for ways to burn down everything her father built.
Her eyes find mine. A tilt of her chin, subtle and challenging. A flash of something dangerous in her gaze. It’s restless, bold, and just unhinged enough to make my gut knot. Winston may think he controls everything, but he’s got no idea what kind of fire he’s dealing with.
I meet his gaze again. “Try it,” I murmur. “But you take that road, you better be ready for what’s waiting at the end of it.”
My voice stays low, even. But my blood hums with warning. Winston hears it. That flicker of hesitation in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what I’m capable of. And that I’m not bluffing.
He doesn’t reply. Just walks off, stiff and seething.
Candace returns with my food, her expression unreadable.
“You didn’t spit in it, did you?”
She scoffs. “Yep.”
The curve of her mouth is all bite. But the quick glance she gives me isn’t just sharp. It’s searching, as if she’s trying to decide whether I’m still the threat she’s always assumed I am.
I chuckle, wrapping my hands around the burger, then lock eyes with her as I take a deliberate bite. Her expression shifts, just slightly but enough. The way her breath hitches. The way her eyes widen just a fraction.
It’s not the food that has her rattled. It’s me.This. Whatever’s thrumming between us, thick and hot and full of questions neither of us wants to ask.
I chew, swallow, and give her a slow once-over. “Nah, you didn’t.”
She crosses her arms. “How do you know?”
Her voice isn’t as steady as she wants it to be.
I reach out, my fingers curling lightly around her wrist as my thumb brushes over her pulse. It’s erratic, betraying her. And damn if that doesn’t please me more than I should admit. The pulse beneath my thumb is a drumbeat. Wild. Defiant. Not unlike the rhythm she taps when she thinks no one’s watching.
“Because, darling,” I murmur, voice low, intimate, just for her, “I’d know if I ever got a taste of you.”
Her breath snags. The air between us thickens, charged and electric. Her mouth opens just barely, but no sound comes out. For a moment, neither of us moves. The restaurant noise dims, as if the world’s holding its breath.
Then she pulls back, wrist slipping from my fingers. But not fast. Not frantic. Measured. Controlled. Her walls snap back into place, armor solid once more, but not before I see it. The tremble. The flush. The flicker of heat she fails to hide.
She walks away, spine stiff, head high. But her hands? Shaking.
I sit back, smirking into my drink, knowing I just found another crack in the armor.
This isn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
Chapter 11
Candace
Heatspreadsovermyskin, wildfire licking at every inch, my body betraying me in ways I refuse to acknowledge. Did he really just say that? And, worst of all, did I actually react to it?
I take a step back, putting space between us, keeping my eyes locked onto his in a silent dare. A reminder of exactly who he is. Malachi Hayes is everything I’m running from. Everything I swore I wouldn’t let myself get tangled up in.
