The bedroom door opens again and Savage swings his big body into the bedroom. “We have our Adam,” Savage says, poking his head back into the bathroom. “He still has no Eve.”
Rolling my eyes, I murmur, “Lord help me,” and reach for the clothes I set out before I got in the shower.
“Is he here?” Adam demands.
“Yes,” I call out, already pulling on my pants. “He is here.” I walk into the bedroom to find Adam hovering at the door. “Are we having a Walker family reunion?” I eye Adam. “Or do we have real news on Deleon?”
“We do not,” Adam says. “But something went wrong with our plan. “
“Yeah,” Savage says. “Let’s talk about what went wrong. Who knew about the cabin?”
“I told you,” I say. “My family.”
“Right,” Savage says. “Is Rafael fucking you over?”
My teeth grind together. “Rafael is not fucking me over. Alex—”
“Is dead,” Savage supplies. “Dead people don’t dance, sing, or fuck people over.”
I scrub a hand through my damp hair, too damn tired to be dragged down this rabbit hole. “Alex and I were both undercover inside the Devils.”
Savage’s eyes go wide. “No shit. How did I not know that?”
Adam studies me long and hard. “I didn’t know either.”
“I thought it was irrelevant,” I reply. “As you said, Savage, he’s dead.”
The door opens and fucking Lucifer walks in. “Donuts in the kitchen. Six dozen. Almost enough to go around, so grab ‘em and run.”
“This,” I say, “would be a good time for everyone but me to go eat the damn donuts.”
Blake appears in the doorway and it’s official. Everyone in the house who isn’t Pri is here. Blake’s brown, intelligent eyes meet mine and I don’t know what he finds in my stare, but his chin lifts slightly before he says, “Everyone who isn’t Adrian should go eat the fucking donuts.” He steps further in the room, a charge in the air around him, a sense of power and control, and no one questions it or him. No one argues. They leave.
Blake shuts the door. Exhaustion weighs on my shoulders and back and I sit down on the end of the bed. He steps in front of me and leans on the dresser. “What happened out there?”
I don’t ask what “out there” means. He’s talking about the shit show that was my plan to hide out in a secret cabin that wasn’t secret at all. A plan that cost at least one man his life.
There are ten reasons I’d like to avoid a direct answer, but none of them allow Blake the chance to go into the rest of this mission with eyes wide open. “I suspect it started with my parents’ murder.”
“Not what I expected to hear, but somehow, this all makes more sense. I’m going to gamble and say Waters was somehow involved.”
“On the surface, it could have been tied to any one of my father’s many arrests, but I kept digging. Apparently, Alex did as well. By the time I found the connection to Waters, he was already undercover with the Devils.”
“He was on a revenge mission.”
“Yes. He was, and if you knew my brother, his form of revenge was leading him nowhere safe.” I give a laugh that is all bitterness and add, “I joined the task force with the intent of saving his life.”
“And now he’s dead.”
“Yes. Now he’s dead. Alex did just what I knew he’d do. He got in too deep. He was pulled under, seduced by the lifestyle, and I couldn’t snap him out of it. I couldn’t bring him back.”
“It happens to a lot of good men.”
“Yeah well, I knew he had a dark side. I knew. I never believed he belonged inside the agency, but who was I to make that call?” I glance skyward, fighting a memory of our final fight before I refocus on Blake. “The cabin was always our secret, our safe house if anything went wrong. Obviously, Alex told someone about the cabin.”
He’s back to studying me a little too hard. “I read you and your brother’s files. He disappeared a year after you both went under.”
My jaw clenches. I do not like where this is going. “That’s right,” I agree.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
It’s a moment of truth, one I owe Blake Walker for all he’s done for me. “He’s dead. That’s all I have to say on that topic.”
“I read between the lines and assumed as much. I see you and understand you. What you need to remember is that what we do undercover is different than what we do outside that cover.”
“Where are you going with this, Blake?”
“Once upon a time, I wanted vengeance and by vengeance, I mean blood. Then I met Kara. She pulled me back, kept me from becoming something that would have changed me forever. You think you should have killed Deleon. You’re wrong.”
My lips press together. “He’ll kill again. He’ll come after Pri, damn it.”
“And we’ll get him,” he replies. “We’ll use him. We’ll make him talk.”
“He won’t talk.”
“You might be surprised.”
“I won’t be surprised.”
“You did the right thing, Adrian. And if you question yourself, if you think you aren’t the man you once were, you’re wrong. That decision to spare him proves you wrong on that.”
“I did it for Pri.”
“Pri proved you wrong.” He straightens. “Get some rest. You might have a different mindset after a few hours rest.”
“I won’t.”
He ignores that reply and saunters to the door, pausing to glance back at me. “Talk to me before you make any confessions.”
“I’ve asked for a full immunity agreement.”
“The trial will be on national television. Nothing gives you immunity from the court of public opinion. In today’s world, that alone ruins lives. Let me help you prep.” He doesn’t leave the topic up for discussion.
He opens the door and leaves the room.
I stand up and run my hand through my damp hair. I don’t know what he thinks he knows about anything I’ve done, but considering this is Blake we’re talking about, he probably knows too much. At this point, I’m jittery, raw energy charging my body, and way too much junk is punishing my mind. I’m not sure if I need to take a jog or go to sleep. With both as options, I pull on a T-shirt and by the time I get to my shoes, sleep is already winning. I opt for my boots and grab my bag on my way to the door. I’m not sleeping with Savage.
Once I’m in the hallway, the tug of the room where Pri is likely snuggling under nice, cool sheets in a barely-there gown, is real, but I do not cave to temptation. I do need rest and so does she and we are a whole lot better at fighting and fucking than we are at sleeping together. And maybe Blake is right. I don’t know where my head will be after I sleep.
I end up choosing the theater room for my makeshift bedroom, simply because it’s an easy space to create pitch dark during the day. It also has a couch in front of the rows of theater seating. I drop my bag on the floor, lie down on the cushions, and set my weapon on the floor within easy reach.
I shut my eyes and for a moment, I’ve returned to the cave, Pri naked in my arms, and it’s bittersweet. Her smell, her taste, her soft little sounds. Her trust. The trust is what grinds through me and I’m instantly transported further back in time, much further back in time. Back to the day that predicted the future.
It was a holiday weekend, and me, Rafael, and Alex had been at the cabin, practicing our marksmanship. I’d been eighteen, about to start college, and Rafael had been only twelve. Alex had been twenty-four, about to enter the FBI training academy. He’d been the big brother we looked up to, despite too many times, that we’d feared him.
But I was getting my legs underneath me, recruiting early for the FBI. I’d felt confident. I didn’t fear him anymore and he didn’t like it.
I shove aside the memory that will not let me sleep, but I know that that was the day that told a story of one brother killing another.
> Chapter Sixteen
PRI
My shower is long, and hot, in a fancy bathroom with shiny white tiles and marble floors. My bathroom is stocked with all my products from home, and the closet is filled with two large suitcases packed with my things. I don’t dwell on the fact that one of these big alpha men packed for me or the fact that they clearly don’t expect me to go home soon. If I dwell on those things, it will take me no place good. I can’t focus on my job. But the truth is, once I’m dressed in leggings, a pink tank, and sneakers, clothes I can work or sleep in, the room is too big and too empty.
I stand in the doorway between the bathroom and the bedroom and I’m alone. I feel alone, uncomfortably alone. And it’s not because I have trouble being alone. I live alone. I’ve been on my own most of my life, even when I was working with family and wearing Logan’s ring. It’s also not because I’m in a strange house, in a giant master bedroom, complete with a king-sized bed. Or the fact that I’m here to hide from an assassin. I knew the dangers of taking this case. No. I’m uncomfortably alone because Adrian is not here.
It feels bad to be without him.
Briefly, I wonder if that’s how people feel when they meet the person they fall in love with as if they are better when they are with them than without. I’ve never felt that way with another human being, but I do now. I dismiss the crazy thought and decide watching Pitt die in a pool of blood is messing with me. I’m feeling dependent on Adrian when I’m not a dependent person. Maybe he sees that in me. Maybe that’s why he pulled away. We’re not good for each other right now. We’re feeding each other’s weaknesses. Maybe, maybe he should have killed Deleon because if he hurts someone else, I’ll know Adrian could have kept it from happening. I will feel to blame.
I give myself a mental shake and walk toward the desk against the wall, obviously set up for my use. Murder is never the answer. That goes against all I stand for as an emissary of the court and our legal system. And I’m not falling in love with Adrian, but I do owe him an immunity agreement for what I believe will include murder.
Settling into a cushy rolling chair, I open up the MacBook, and I’m eager to call my boss, but I hesitate. Ed is in Walker’s protective custody now. I assume we can communicate, but I decide to be cautious and confirm that’s true. I pick up my new phone and my first instinct is to call Adrian, but I stop myself again. He’s not here for a reason. He needed a break and some rest. He’s probably smarter than me and sleeping. Alone. In another bedroom. My teeth grit and I dial Blake’s number. “Pri,” he answers. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“I will,” I say, the weariness in my body a dull ache that I can ignore for only so long. “Believe it or not, I slept a little in the cave. I just need to handle a couple of things. Can I call Ed right now?”
“He’s still traveling,” he says. “He’s presently in the air on his way to New York City. How important is it?”
“Important but not life-threatening. I owe some paperwork to a witness. I don’t want to let him down.”
He hesitates a moment and then he says, “I see. Once he lands, we’ll get him on a secure line. That’s going to be a while. You should sleep.”
“Right. I know. Can I email Ed the document and he’ll be able to get it?”
“Yes. I’ll let him know to check his email ASAP.”
“Great. And can I return my calls and operate as usual?”
“You can. Yes.”
“And if people ask where I am?”
“Working remotely. At home, if you’re forced to give a location.”
“And my parents?”
“Still the same. We have eyes on them. We’ll talk about where all of this goes when you and Adrian are rested.”
“Thanks, Blake.” I hesitate. “Blake—”
“He’s in the theater room sleeping.”
In the theater room. Not even in a bed. Anywhere but with me. “Thanks,” I say, and when I would disconnect, he says, “You both just need rest. You’ll be surprised how that will change things.”
“Right. Yes. Okay.” I disconnect and press my hands to my face. I quickly draw up the agreement, email it to Ed, and scan my emails, which are overflowing. I don’t answer them. I just don’t have the energy.
I’m eager to check my phone messages but hesitate. I find an iPhone laying on the desk and plugged in to the wall. I check my messages. I have ten. One is from Grace. “Where are you? I’m worried. I called you four times. I’m going to have Josh use whatever resources he has to find you if you don’t call me back soon.”
“Fabulous,” I murmur. I love her, but she now has a boyfriend in private security that is going to get us both killed.
I text her a quick note: Thanks for worrying. I’m off-site in meetings. All is well. Call you later.
The next message is from Cindy. “What is going on? Why are you and Ed, and even Ed’s secretary MIA? Should I be scared right now? Please call me.”
I press my fingers to my temple. I don’t even know what to say to her besides, yes, probably, and that’s not a good way to handle this. For now, I text Grace: Can you tell Cindy all is well too, please?
Her reply: You’re sure you’re fine?
Better if I had chocolate right about now, I say, but yes. All is well. Gotta run.
Thankfully she accepts that answer, and I finish going through messages, scribbling notes as I listen to mostly work-related content from that point onward. Then there is the final message, from Logan. “We need to talk. In person. It’s urgent. Call me.”
He’s connected to my case, protecting Waters even, I fear. My gut says I should talk to him, but then again—my brow furrows and there’s a pinch in my chest. Would he set me up and lure me out and into Deleon’s reach? Would a man I was engaged to, who was supposed to be my husband, do such a thing? I can’t ignore that call but I’m not sure what to do about it. I’m not even going to try to figure it out right now. I need sleep. I know I need sleep and my mind will be clear on a lot of things. Maybe even Adrian.
Tiredness sweeps through my body, and I leave behind my work and curl up on top of the bed. I set my alarm for two hours, which will still have me up before noon. The minute my eyes shut, I’m back on that cavern mattress, naked with Adrian’s mouth on my body. But then the images shift and I’m back in time, back to a moment when I was still engaged to Logan.
Suddenly, I’m drifting back to the last holiday party for my father’s firm that I attended as a member of the staff, inside a private mansion rental. The mansion is decorated with at least a half dozen trees, while fancy lights seem to flicker in unison with the nearby violin player. The crowd is large, mingling here on the lower level, as well on a wraparound porch and outdoor area, complete with a dance floor. The guests, who’ve traveled in from all over the country, are dressed in fancy gowns and tuxedos. As for me, Logan did the whole Pretty Woman routine and had my gown delivered to my house, a far too expensive, emerald green floor-length gown, with a tasteful slit and a square bodice.
“What’s going on with Logan?” my mother asks, catching up with me on the porch, on my way to the outdoor area. She looks seasonally lovely in a red dress with just a hint of sparkle. I wonder if Dad chose it. That’s the thing about the men in our world. No matter how strong we might be, they like their hands in everything, even our attire.
Tonight, it’s stifling. Often lately it’s stifling.
My brows dip. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
“He and your father were off to the side of the house, and I do believe I heard shouting.”
“The golden boy and Dad? Really?”
She nods. “And tonight, of all nights. They both avoid scandal like the plague.”
“Can you try to find out what’s going on?” I ask.
“Of course, I’ll try, but I think you might have a better shot with Logan.”
I snort. “They’re two of a kind, Mom. I’m not sure why either of us put up
with it.”
She tilts her head. “Oh no. What’s that about?”
I wave her off. “Nothing for tonight. Where is he now?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I’ll go get him a glass of that expensive whiskey he likes and hunt him down. Never fear, Mother, I’ll try to get the answers we both know we’ll never know.”
“You’re not yourself tonight.”
At just the right moment, one of my mother’s girlfriends appears by her side. I embrace the opportunity to escape inside. I head to the second level of the mansion where a VIP bar is set up. At present no one is in line, and the guests are mingling around expensive leather furniture. I’m about to order Logan’s whiskey, when he’s suddenly by my side, catching my hand.
“Come with me.”
He’s already walking, tugging me along with him, and I’m grimacing. The man is proving my point about being controlling. He heads down a hallway and enters a doorway. To my disbelief, I’m pulled inside a tiny bathroom, so small there is no tub. He shuts the door and locks it, and then I’m against the wall and his hands are all over me.
“What are you doing, Logan?” I shove on his chest. “We aren’t—”
He kisses me and I bite his lip. He growls. “What the fuck, Pri? How about being here for me?”
“I’m not doing this now. You know I don’t like small spaces. I’m suffocating.”
“Once I’m inside you, you won’t be thinking about small fucking places.”
He turns me to the sink and yanks up my skirt. “Stop it, Logan.” I try to move but his legs are holding my legs, and I think I’m starting to feel that trigger I get. I’m panicking. “Stop.”
“Your father pissed me off, baby. If I don’t let off the energy, I’m going to end up fired.” He rips away my panties and then he’s inside me. The room is hot and I’m struggling to catch a full breath. He’s pounding at me, grunting, thrusting. It just won’t end. The room spins and I barely know when he shudders and groans.
His cellphone rings, and he pulls out, dampness clinging to my thighs. I don’t turn around. I draw in a deep breath and force myself to calm down. I will not hit him. I will not scream at him. Not here.
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