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“Seems you learned how to sweet-talk your way into things in Chicago. All that bed-hopping really gave you the time to practice, huh?” Dominic’s jaw tightened, but Grey soldiered on. He was out for blood, not a reaction. “Too bad I trust actions, not words, and all you’ve shown me in the time I’ve known you is that you know how to pack up and run. Not exactly the type of man I want protecting the most important person in my life.”
Dominic snarled, snapping back, and I sighed as I tuned them out. It was like I could see all my visions of peace going down in a ball of flame. Hope of them coexisting wasn’t an option yet—maybe not ever—and I had to be okay with that. They were grown men, and their feelings weren’t mine to control or navigate. They needed to find a middle ground on their own, or we’d all end up miserable.
Cameron came to my side, wrapping an arm around my waist as we left Greyson and Dominic behind to bicker and snipe at each other. “You okay?”
“I’m tired, Cameron. I’m so fucking tired.”
“I hear you. Once everything calms down again, I’ll take you on a vacation. Just the two of us.”
Sandy beaches, bikinis, and no responsibilities flitted through my head. “Deal.”
With a squeeze of my side and a kind grin, Cameron was out the door, and so was I. I’d had enough for one day.
Chapter Seven
Mari
Walking away from the arguing men, I felt claustrophobic for the first time in ages. Like the walls of my life were closing in, and if I didn’t get out now, they’d shut me behind them.
Get out.
The words pushed me forward, nearly tripping over myself to leave. Get air. Find peace. Something.
I was nearly to the door before he stopped me.
“Going out, boss?”
I whipped around to find Moore leaning against the wall, eyes focused on me. I hadn’t heard him following me, hadn’t noticed his steps or breathing. Nothing. It was an impressive feat for how massive he was.
I waved behind us. “There’s too much testosterone in there for me, so I’m going for a drive.”
“Let me call Geneva for you,” he offered.
“No thanks.” I didn’t want my driver. I wanted freedom. Control. Space.
Moore shrugged. “I’ll come with you, then. Might need to take one of the bigger cars, though. I don’t fit in your little roadster.”
“You won’t,” I said firmly. “I don’t need an escort or a companion. I need silence and an hour to myself.”
Moore shook his head. “It’s not a good time to be caught alone, boss.”
It wasn’t, but I had no choice. I was drowning on land, suffocating on air. It was all too much. If I had to stay in the house for another second, I’d explode. “I know, and I promise to be careful.”
“Please let Greyson go with you.”
It was almost enough to get me to agree. Moore never asked for anything. Not from me. But I couldn’t. Just the thought of being in a confined space with Grey made my skin crawl. I hated the feeling.
“You are not, under any circumstances, to tell him where I am.” Moore opened his mouth, but I shushed him with a hand. “Both the car and I are chipped. If he needs to find me, he can have my location in seconds. Beyond that, I’m armed in case of an attack, and we both know the car itself isn’t going to let anything get to me.”
Getting the fucking tracker had been a two-week argument that had only ended in Greyson’s favor because a rival had tried to have me kidnapped. I’d come back bloody and seething and promptly gotten not only myself, but him chipped too. As much as I hated feeling like someone’s pet, I liked the security of knowing Grey could track me if he had to.
I’d given Rey a tracking chip too but turned out implants didn’t do shit against bullets.
“I’m as safe as I can get.” It wasn’t strictly true, but I needed the freedom and a few minutes of peace before I lost my goddamn mind.
Finally, Moore nodded and followed me in, eyes on me as I snatched the keys I needed from the pegboard on the wall.
The emerald McLaren was stupidly expensive, especially since Greyson had had it custom-made to his specifications to be as bulletproof as possible. If someone wanted to take out the driver, they’d have to work hard to do it.
