Page 96 of The Killer Card

“Wait…” She blinks, her hands on my face firm, but shaking, actual fear clouding her blue eyes. “Graham… Did- Did you see him—”

“No.” My jaw clenches. “He died. Nineteen years ago. He’s dead.” A sigh of relief escapes her lips. “But she married again. A detective. And now he hits her too and I just… I left her there…”

“You listen to me, Graham Rosales,” she says through clenched teeth. “If I know anything about you, you will be relentless about trying to make her safe until she’s either forced to get a restraining order or you…” She laughs, actually laughs. “I was going to say give up, but we both know you are incapable of that.”

My eyes find the empty glass and bottle behind her. “Right…”

Naomi brushes her fingers through my hair, pulling a soft groan from my throat. “I’m sorry that she’s being hurt. And I’m sorry you got in trouble for defending her, but you will save her. If anybody can, it’s you.”

My eyes fall closed. “I’m sorry I missed the wedding.”

She laughs again. “Honestly, for a last-minute Vegas ceremony, it was pretty romantic. Fitting for them.”

I couldn’t agree more. Rowan and Clara have never taken a single thing slowly in their relationship. It’s all been a straight path, no other destination but the alter since the day they first laid eyes on each other. If only everything could be that simple. If only everyone could find true love as wildly spontaneous as Elias and Poppy or as natural as Clara and Rowan. How unfortunate that the world does not always work in such absolutes.

My arm bands around Naomi’s waist, anchoring her between my knees. “I didn’t actually think you’d let me in when I knocked,” I admit. “You ignored me all night long—”

“I didn’t ignore you—”

“You absolutely fucking did, don’t you even start denying it.” I level a finger at her, which she grabs some of that dominance returning to her frosty stare. “I’ve missed the fuck out of you—”

“Have you? Because I believe the last words you ever said to me were have an amazing flight back to Boston, bitch—”

“You’re admittedly infuriating and that’s actually a very positive message—”

“You called me a bitch—”

“You’re a fucking bitch, get over it.”

She laughs again, the kind that has her throwing her head back, her braids brushing my fingertips where they rest against the dip in her spine. And for the first time tonight I smile, really smile, up at the woman I have been hopelessly in love with the last two years.

“I really did miss you, mi reina…” I tell her, my other hand coming up to grip her hip. “Every fucking day without you is torture…”

“And yet you have survived,” she slow claps. “Bravo.”

“I take it back,” I roll my eyes. “You can burn in Hel- AH!” She grabs the back of my hair hard enough to yank out a few strands, tilting my head back.

“Don’t be a brat, Graham Cracker.”

“But it’s my whole aesthetic,” I grin.

She hums, looking me over from my t-shirt to my suit trousers already restraining my hardening cock. “Is that why you came here tonight? Pretty boy wants to play? To forget, just for a little while?”

I nod emphatically. “Yes, please.”

Naomi steps three paces back, out of reach of my grip. Then she snaps her fingers and points to the floor. I’m immediately sinking to my knees, trained to forever respond to her unspoken commands. She grins pearly white teeth down at me.

“Good boy,” she purrs. “Now,” she trails a finger along my jaw line, a shiver rolling down my spine. “What should I do with you first?”

1 Day Before the Wedding

Chapter Thirty-Two

Graham

This isn’t how I expected this evening would go.

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