“Watch me,” Matteo spits out.
“What happened to the plan you’re always preaching to us about, Teo? You know that if we get rid of Clay, it does nothing to help us in the long run. We have evidence of his involvement, but we still have next to nothing on Sebastian. If we get rid of Clay, then we lose all the work we’ve built these fifteen years tracking who is at the top of the operation in Axton Harbor. He can still lead us to the answers we need. Are you willing to risk that?”
He grinds his teeth together, knowing my reasoning is sound. I know exactly what to say next that will convince him to stay, to make them both stay and not make a rash decision, no matter how good it would feel to end Clay.
“What about Fallon?” I ask, and that catches their attention. “What about our part of the deal we made with her? You would deny her the right to her revenge? The deal was that we help find the man who attacked her and then put him in a position for her to kill him. You go after Clay now, kill him yourself, and our deal is void.”
Declan releases a growl of frustration before slamming the trunk shut, looking disappointed, but resigned. “He’s got a point, Teo. I’m not taking that away from Fallon.”
Matteo stares at me for a beat before sighing and dropping the supplies to the ground. “Yeah.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. Iwant nothing more than to feel that fucker die by my hands, but… You’re right.”
“So you’re staying?” I ask, the tension in my chest loosening slightly.
“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m staying.”
“Good.” I grip his shoulders, making him look at me. “We’ll get him. It’s all a matter of time, but it will happen. We’re closer than we’ve ever been before.”
He glares back at me, but heads back inside without a fight. “I fucking hope you’re right.”
Chapter 24
Fallon
“You let me win,” I shout as Declan’s feet hit the driveway after our race around the property line again. I shove against his chest, but he doesn’t move an inch.
“What are you talking about?” he asks innocently, though there is a tinge of pink to his cheeks, giving himself away.
“You let me win,” I say again, frustration coating my words. “Look at you!” I gesture to his shirtless chest, his hair. “You didn’t break a sweat. You’re not even breathing hard.”
“So?” He crosses his arms. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t try.”
I narrow my eyes. “You walked the last twenty yards.”
Dec shrugs. “I was tired. It was a long run, and you’re… really fast.”
I side-eye Hades, who has taken to greeting us on the driveway after every run, with a look that says,Is this guy for real?If this is Declan trying to act like he’s telling the truth, he’s doing a horrible job.
“Is this what you did yesterday too? When you told me you twisted your ankle right before we crossed the finish line?”
Declan’s eyes dart to Hades, like the dog can save him from this line of questioning. He stammers, “W-What? No way. You really beat me then, too.”
I raise an eyebrow. Wow. Someone call the Oscars about this performance.
I bite back a bitter laugh. So he’s doing it too, treating me like I’m a fragile, porcelain doll. It’s what all the guys have been doing since the cop’s revelation.
While I admit, finding out that dick Clay Ensling was the one who not only assaulted me three years ago but also had my report covered up, made me emotionally raw the following days. I never expected that would make the guys treat me like I’m something breakable.
Akio is mother-henning harder than ever, and I swear, if he tries to shove more food or water down my throat I’m going to punch him. Although, I admit it is nice to see his face first thing every morning when I step out of my room. I can tell he just wants to make sure I’m okay, which is sweet, but I wish he would stop tip-toeing around what he wants to say to me.
Matteo hasn’t said a single rude thing to me since that night. He’s actually been…nice. It's weirding me out, so much so that I’ve been trying to press his buttons all week just to see if he’ll crack. Nothing I do rattles his cage, though, not even when I purposefully try to piss him off by rearranging his spice rack. Seriously, the man just grimaced when he saw what I’d done and started putting things back where they originally went without snapping at me or pinning me with his signature glare. I miss our snarky banter, damn it.
But Declan… I expected more than this from him. Running is my escape, a way to get out of my head and release the built up tension, and it’s been nice having him here with me to compete against. Out of all three of them, he’s the one who challenges me the most, at least physically. Until now, that is.
I pick up one of the water bottles we’d brought outside and hurl it at his head. “Fuck you.”
He dodges before it can smack him in the face, then stares after me as I whip around and stomp back inside. “Fallon,” he calls weakly, but even that, the lack of that damn nickname he’s always calling me – Poison – just shows how off things have been lately.
While I shower, I ruminate over what I should do about the guys. Before we found out that Clay was the one who attacked me, I was starting to believe the four of us together could become something really special. Call me crazy, but that torture session with the cop felt an awful lot like some fucked up bonding.
