“No, but it’s been implied more than once.” She chuckles, yet the humor doesn’t reach her eyes.
We both know this call will mark the end of whatever this thing is between us. Torian’s perfect timing has stolen the buzz and brought too much fucking clarity.
“Don’t go anywhere.” I reach for her hand, only to have her back away.
“I’m not.” But she does. She keeps retreating, placing more and more space between us.
Fuck Torian.
Fuck him and his horrible fucking timing.
I connect the call and raise the cell to my ear. “What’s up?” I don’t look away from her. I keep reading her expression, trying to figure out if the change in her features is from disappointment or something more.
“Nothing,” he grates. “I just called for an update. Where are you?”
“Still at the safe house. In bed. Trying to get some fucking sleep.”
“Cry me a river. How’s Keira?”
“Good.” Clearly annoyed that I answered this phone call if her pinched brows are anything to go by, but good nonetheless. “Want to talk to her?”
“She’s with you?” he snarls.
“She’s not riding my dick, if that’s what you’re asking.” I keep holding her gaze, noting the narrowing of her eyes, the stiffening of her shoulders. “I was offering to go find her.”
There’s a pause, the seconds of silent contemplation ticking by.
“Torian, do you want me to get her or not?”
“Yes.” His answer is a barely audible mutter. “But first I need to speak to you about the drive-by. Hunter seems to think you can help find the culprit.”
“That depends on what you’ve already tried. I don’t know the first thing about what’s going on over there.”
“Not a hell of a lot. We don’t have any leads. I’ve got no idea who’s targeting us, or why. Whoever is responsible is a coward who doesn’t want to claim responsibility.”
“It might not be cowardice. It could be strategic. Both incidents could even be a coincidence.”
“First my uncle, now this. It’s not a fucking coincidence.”
No, it’s not likely, but stranger things have happened. And when you have a list of enemies a mile long, it wouldn’t be a stretch to get targeted by more than one at the same time. “What about the official investigation? Do you have access to that information?”
“Not currently.”
His tone implies he can gain access, though. I assume all he’d have to do is grease a palm or two.
“If you think the same person is responsible,” I continue, “there’s more than likely going to be a point of conversion in those files. All I need to do is find it.”
“What else would you need?”
“My laptop.”
“Give me your home address, and I’ll get someone to pick it up.”
No. Fuck no. “I’ll come and get it. I’ll drive us back overnight—”
“Like hell you will. I don’t want Keira in Portland yet.”
“Then you need to get me a new computer because you sure as shit aren’t going through my house.”
He gives a derisive laugh. “Who says I haven’t already?”
I say. I’d fucking know.
My home is a fortress, not necessarily impenetrable, but I get surveillance notifications whenever someone sets foot on the property. Even the neighbor’s cat can’t escape detection.
“Why don’t you want me going through your house, Decker?” he taunts. “Have you got something to hide?”
“Apart from my granny panty fetish, not really. But you’re a little too judgmental for my liking, so I think it’s best to keep our relationship strictly professional.”
“I’ll get you a computer,” Torian grates. “Is there anything else?”
“Let me think on it. I’ll text you a list.”
“Make it quick. I’ll send Hunter out to see you tomorrow if nothing happens in the meantime.”
“Yeah. Okay. Leave it with me.”
“Have you found my sister yet?” he snips as if he anticipated her being at my side all along.
“Yeah. Hold on.” I raise my attention and find her staring down at me. No, she’s staring right through me, her eyes blank, lips parted, skin pale. “Keira?”
She blinks out of the trance and pastes on a smile. “Mmm?”
“Cole wants to speak to you.” I cover the mouthpiece with my palm. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She approaches and holds out a hand for the device.
“You’re not a good liar.”
“I’m the best liar,” she counters, grabbing the cell to raise it to her ear. “Cole?” She turns away from me, hiding her face from view.
She remains quiet for a while, taking short steps toward the door. She’s trying to distance herself from me as she gets closer to her brother. I won’t stand in her way. Not this time. In the future it might be a different story.
I push from the bed and stalk to the adjoining bathroom to rinse my face. The water doesn’t help to clear my head, but it scrambles the words drifting from the next room for a few brief moments until I hear her muttered affirmations.
“Hmm… Okay… Yes… I understand.”
I don’t deliberately eavesdrop. Her answers are just there, the sound of her voice reaching my ears as if I was made to listen to nothing but her.
“I’m not sleeping with him,” she murmurs.
I walked to the door, needing to see her, and cock my hip against the frame. She’s sitting on the bed, her focus rising to meet mine.
“I don’t like this,” she says to him. “You’re not involving me in decisions, and I need to know what’s going on.” She frowns, clenching her jaw. “Yes. I know. I’ll speak to you soon.”
She disconnects the call and cradles my phone in her hands.
I was right when I anticipated the moment between us ending. The lust I’d seen in her eyes is gone. There’s no picking up where we left off.
“Your brother is an asshole,” I grate.
She gives a half-hearted grin. “What did he do this time?”
“Every time you talk to him, your mood changes. I don’t like the effect he has on you. I don’t like the way he treats you.”
She schools her expression, the emotion draining from her features to leave me staring at a blank slate. “You watch me too closely. Maybe you’re seeing things that aren’t even there.”
"I’m seeing what’s right in front of me, Keira. I’m seeing you.”
She either doesn’t like being seen or isn’t used to being noticed. I’m not sure which.
“Do you want me to quit watching?” I push from the doorframe and pad into the room. “Would you prefer if I didn’t see you at all?”
“I didn’t say that.”
There’s still distance between us. More emotional than physical.
I want to get her back to the place we’d been before the phone call. To the hot and sweaty. To the imminent fucking.
I stop before her, our position switched from when she first entered the room. I stare down at her, reading a myriad of thoughts in those eyes. She still wants me, but not like she did before.
Cole has her questioning me. Again. And I fucking hate it.
“You regret kissing me,” I mutter.
“I don’t regret the kiss. I regret where we were when it happened.”
“In the bedroom?” I know that’s not the case, but my aim is to keep her talking. To keep elaborating.
“No.” She shakes her head. “In a safe house. Surrounded by drama and obligation.”
“Neither one of us were obligated to participate.” I reach out, running the backs of my fingers down her cheek. “But I guess it’s best if we forget how close we came to complicating things.”
“Are you sure we haven’t already?”
I stroke my knuckles over her smooth skin. Slow. Lazy. “It was just a kiss.”
“Just a kiss?” Her brows ris
e. “It felt like more than that to me.”
Good.
About fucking time.
“Either way, it’s over.” I drop my hand to my side.
She winces, and I leave her with the same sterility she’s given me as I stalk to the head of the bed and reclaim my position on the mattress. I cross my legs at the ankles and put my hands behind my head, waiting for her to bite.
“Why?” she whispers.
It’s always one inch forward, two yards back with her. I always have to be strategic.
She acts like a wild animal, tentatively taking the bites of nourishment I provide, then running for the hills when I try to get something in return.
All I want is her trust. That’s it.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
For now, at least.
“Because if Cole found out, he’d think my interest in you was payback.”
“Payback for what?” She turns to face me, cocking a bent knee onto the mattress.
She feeds on the crumbs I spread before her. She always devours the insight into my life. She craves my secrets. It’s the only trick I have up my sleeve to reel her back in when she flees.
“A fucking lifetime of debt I’m supposed to owe him.”
“Money?” she accuses.
I laugh, the sound caustic to my own ears. “No, not money. Cole demands more of me than that.”
She climbs onto the bed and sits with her legs tucked beneath her. “Like what?”
“You name it.” I shrug. “The debt changes depending on his mood.”
“Why? What did you do?”
“I didn’t do a damn thing.” I don’t restrain my anger. “Sarah took something from him. Something she deserved. And Hunter and I refused to let her take the fall.”
Her expression doesn’t falter. She continues to stare at me.
“You already know the story,” I muse. The knowledge is written all over her face.
“Sarah told me a few things. My sister did, too. The rest I pulled together on my own.” She shrugs. “But I didn’t know about the debt. I didn’t realize you were here against your will.”
“I’m not here working for your brother because I enjoy his generous hospitality. But I’m here, in Westport, because I’d do anything to keep you safe.”
She nods, the movement slow, lazy, and entirely unconvincing.
“You don’t believe me.”
She releases a huff of derision. “Actually, I do.” She crawls toward the head of the bed and lies down beside me. “That’s the problem.”
“One of many.” I shoot her a smirk. “If Cole finds out I took advantage of you, he’ll make the drive-by look like a confetti toss.”
“From what I recall, I’m the one who came to you, remember?”
“I’m not going to forget any time soon.” Not about her lips or the fucking brilliant way she kept grinding against me. My dick is on a hair trigger at the mere memory. “But do you really think it matters? He’s not going to give a shit who jumped who first. Either way, he’s going to want to see me six feet under.”
“Yet you kissed me anyway.” She inches toward me, nestling into my side. “I’ve always said you have a death wish.”
I wrap an arm around her and pull her close. “And I’ve always said you’re nothing but trouble.”
She chuckles. “I think you might be right.”
She places a hand on my stomach and her cheek against my chest. We lie there, silent and comfortable, as my eyes grow heavy and her breathing deepens. I’m seconds away from slumber. I’m sure she is, too.
“Sebastian?” she murmurs.
“Yeah?”
“Is it crazy that despite what you just said, I still want to kiss you again?”
I close my eyes and grin at the ceiling. “No, sugar. It’s not crazy. It just makes things fucking complicated, that’s all.”
9
Decker
I wake up in a dark room, the furniture barely recognizable through the shadows. It takes a few seconds to blink away the lethargy and remember where I am—with Keira, in the safe house, secluded from the rest of the world.
I groan and reach my hands above my head to stretch my tired muscles. I expect to hear a sleepy response from her in return.
Nothing comes.
She’s no longer curled into me.
“Keira?” I reach across her side of the mattress. It’s empty. Cold.
I groan again, this time in annoyance. I’m losing my edge. I should’ve woken when she climbed out of my arms. Instead, I didn’t even stir when she fled the room.
I throw back the covers and slide from the bed, grabbing my phone from between the pillows before I stalk for the hall. The house is dead. Not a breath of life to fill the emptiness.
“Keira?” My voice fractures the silence, my bare feet slapping against tile.
I enter the living room and find no sign of her. Everything is in its place—the cushions on the sofa, the television remote, the chairs at the dining table.
“Keira?” I speak louder, the edge of panic creeping into my tone.
I walk to the garage where Torian’s Porsche lies in wait. Then I stalk to the laundry, and the bedrooms along the hall, my pulse increasing as I yank open doors and slam them shut again.
I make my way through every square inch of the house, not wanting to believe she’s gone even though it’s crystal fucking clear.
She’s not here.
She’s not anywhere.
Panic squeezes at my ribs, the pain building.
"Keira?" I hold my breath waiting for a reply.
Nothing.
Not a fucking thing.
“Fuck.” I run back to the bedroom to retrieve my gun from the nightstand drawer and struggle not to lose my shit.
She’s gone. But how? Where?
I wouldn’t have slept through someone breaking in. If she’d been attacked, I would’ve heard it.
Adrenaline rushes through my veins. Fear curdles in my gut.
Every inch of me pulses with the need to fight, yet I don’t even know my opponent. “Keira.”
I sprint for the back door, needing to search the yard, and find the deadbolt already unlocked.
Ice-cold dread fills my reality. I picture her broken body. Bloodied. Bruised. Dead. It’s all I can see. I can even smell it—the tainted scent of death and decay.
No.
I stumble outside, my finger poised to dial Hunter’s number, when I hear something. The faintest voice. I swing around, aiming my gun on a bright glow in the back corner of the yard. A white light. The illumination of a phone.
“Keira?”
Murmured words hit my ears. The soft utterance of “I’ve gotta go” turning my blood to lava.
I run toward her, my weapon still drawn, my eyes squinted through the dim moonlight. “What the hell are you doing out here?” My harsh tone purges the toxic panic from my system. “Are you alone?”
She jerks back, the cell clutched in her left hand. “Yes. Christ. Lower the goddamn gun.”
My throat threatens to close. My limbs fucking shake. My head is a pounding mess of turbulence, and I still can’t come to grips with her standing before me. Whole. Entirely unscathed. And glaring back at me like I’m the one in the wrong.
I thought I’d lost her. I thought I’d never see her again.
“Where did you get the fucking phone?” I lower the gun and take a menacing step forward, my hands trembling with the need to grab her to make sure she’s real.
“Calm down.” She drops her arms to her sides. “I found it in my father’s office."
“Calm down? Calm the fuck down? Do you know how scared I was when I couldn’t find you?” My heartrate lessens, but the anger lives on. I can’t get rid of it. “I’ve been searching the fucking house. I’ve been yelling your fucking name.”
“I sat out in the sun all afternoon. I wanted some fresh air. Then night fell, and it was just as beaut—”
“I don’t want to h
ear it.” I grind my teeth, holding in another harsh reply that’s destined only to prolong the argument. I count out the seconds. Fight against the rage. Then give up and grab the crook of her arm. “Get inside.”
“Excuse me?” She yanks away from my hold. “Do you know who the hell you’re talking to?”
I bark out a venomous laugh. “Oh, I know, princess. I fucking know. It’s not like a Torian ever lets anyone forget.”
Her face falls and slowly she pulls herself together, squaring her shoulders, lifting her chin. “You’re overreacting.”
“Tell that to the prick who put forty-seven bullets in the ceiling of your family’s restaurant. No one has a clue who ordered the attack. For all you know, someone could’ve put a tracker on your brother’s car. They could be watching you right now.”
She glances over her shoulder, my words sinking in as she scans the darkness.
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” I clench my fists. I grind my teeth. I do everything and anything to try to lessen my insanity. “It was a fucking stupid move, Keira. You should know better.”
She shakes her head and stares at me in confusion. For long moments all I can hear are my panted exhales and her non-verbal judgement. It’s loud. So fucking loud.
“Why are you being such an asshole?”
“I’m the asshole?” I point the barrel of the gun at my chest. “I’m the bad guy in this situation?” I throw my arms in the air and let them fall to my sides. “My apologies for caring. I’ll try harder not to give a shit in the future.”
I have two options—sling her over my shoulder and carry her stupid ass inside, or walk away and calm down in private.
Well, both aren’t really options.
One is a desire, the other is a fucking necessity.
It takes all my effort to stalk toward the house and leave her standing on her own. But I’m not in a good enough place to walk inside without slamming the fucking door behind me.
Fuck this shit.
Fuck it.
I storm into the kitchen, slam my gun and phone onto the counter, and hunch over as I grip the cold marble in a white-knuckled grip.
I need to pull myself together. I’m overreacting. And I can’t fucking deny the insanity isn’t merely about Keira.
Decker Page 9
