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“Tomenstruation?”
“To you,” he corrected. “My queen. Future mother of my children.”
My head spun.
“Would you take a test for me real quick?” he asked. “I’ll get it off to the doc, and we’ll know ASAP.”
“Greyson…” But suddenly, I realized I was a day late. Barely late. I held out my hand. “You psycho.”
He let out a chuckle, producing a cup from inside his jacket. As soon as I emerged from the bathroom, feeling embarrassed, he handed it over to an even-more embarrassed Jackal to be whisked away to the lab.
I decided not to worry about it right now—to dwell on the good or the scary, which were both wrapped up in the possibility I was pregnant. I’d know soon enough.
We stepped out into the brisk evening air. Side by side, we walked through the throng of fans and vendors hawking jerseys that carried my men’s names. The sight of their jerseys always made me smile in pride. The energy of the night wrapped around us, lighting a warm glow in my chest.
He gestured ahead. “There you are. Best Thai food in town. Let’s get something spicy enough to make you blush…that seems to get a little harder every day, and I do love it when you blush for me.”
I laughed. “Spicy, huh? Is that a challenge, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Dangerous?”
“Do you have to make everything a competition?”
“I know who I’m dealing with.”
But before we could reach the restaurant door, someone melted out of the shadows. Greyson reached for his gun instinctively, and it was in his hand in a flash before he recognized Sunny and relaxed.
My enemies were supposed to be dead. But I wasn’t sure Greyson would ever relax, and the light banter and fun of the evening had suddenly melted away into darkness.
“Greyson, a word?” Sunny's tone held urgency, and beneath the streetlamp, his face was a mask of concern.
My pulse quickened. Trouble never did seem far from our lives.
“Can it wait?” Greyson’s voice was a low growl. He holstered his gun in one fluid move and smoothed his jacket with a practiced motion, casting a glance around to make sure no one had seen.
Now, I could see more of Greyson’s men waiting behind Sunny in a car down the street, ready for action. For violence.
“It's about Kennedy,” Sunny said, and suddenly all the air seemed sucked off the street. “We thought Borovsky’s man, Clint, was dead, but he was sighted a few streets away. I assume he’s here to try to take you all out when you leave the arena after the game.”
“Kennedy, go back to the arena,” Greyson commanded without taking his eyes off Sunny. “Now.”
“Greyson—” I began, but he cut me off with a sharp look.
“Please, Kennedy. Trust me on this. Go watch the game, stay in public,” he said, and the intensity in his gaze brooked no argument. “Sunny, you take her. Axe can catch me up.”
“Fine.” I didn’t like it, not one bit, but if danger was knocking at my door again, I wouldn't be the one to slow down our response. I understood why Greyson wanted to deal with it himself, and make sure there was no question this time that all my enemies were dead. And I understood why he wanted me near Sebastian, Carter, and Jack.
With Greyson’s command still ringing in my ears, I doubled back towards the arena, my heels clicking a rapid staccato on the pavement. Why the hell hadn’t I worn flats? I knew what my life was like.
The chill evening air did little to cool my flush of unease. Trust didn’t come easy for me, especially not since my memory was all cobwebs, wisps of memory that didn’t quite come into clear sight.
Sunny moved quickly beside me, his eyes tracking over every possible threat.
The arena loomed ahead of us, bright lights shining out. We were so close. And the streets were crowded with hundreds of fans. It was no wonder Greyson had trusted the short trip back.
A van suddenly cut in front of us, going down a side street, so close that it almost ran over my toes. My heart seized. Before I could react, a heavy hand clamped over my mouth, cutting offmy startled cry. A strong arm circled my waist, dragging me into the van.
Panic surged through me, igniting every nerve as I thrashed and kicked, trying to break free. But I still found myself pressed against the hard floor of the van, the world a blur through the open door as it sped off.
The cold bite of metal pressed against my wrist as a zip tie cinched it to its twin, rendering my hands useless.
