Page 83 of Cash

Oh, yeah, those gorgeous blue eyes burned. Anger and embarrassment mixed when it hit her I knew about the stories she’d told Cara.

“Cash—”

“Not to mention,” I cut her off. “In that universe, not to mention this one, your name is Stella Phillips. You might’ve given yourself that name, but it’s mine, and being that, it means you’re mine.”

“That’s straight up ridiculous, Cash.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But it doesn’t make it any less true.” When she looked like she was going to continue to argue I pulled out what I hoped was my ace. “But beyond that, there’s Cara. And I don’t give a fuck about rumors, morals, rules, codes honorable men live by—I don’t personally know the man. What I do know is, whether he likes to be called it or not, he’s mafia. He’s the boss. Which means he’s dangerous. There is no scenario, and I mean none, Stella, that puts you at a table sitting across from him. You can bitch. You can assert your feminine power. You can remind me of your skill, your training, and your kill count and none of that changes my mind. And it won’t, because none of it trumps what you mean to Cara. She is the priority. She comes before your pride⁠—”

“You’re right. Cara comes first,” she seethed. “But the over-the-top caveman shit is totally unnecessary.” There was a pause, then, “And annoying.”

I didn’t bother arguing with her.

She’d learn to live with it, or she wouldn’t and I’d find a way to pleasurably remind her she liked my over-the-top caveman.

“I’ll call Vinnie and ask for the meet,” Nebraska said, then zeroed in on Stella. “Would you mind stepping out with me?”

There was something in Nebraska’s voice, not to mention the formality in her tone that had my hand darting out to wrap around Stella’s forearm, stalling her from pushing back from the table.

“She’s not going to eat her, brother.” Jonas chuckled.

I didn’t find anything funny.

I knew damn well that in most cases women were the more dangerous sex. Add to that, two alpha females with the experience and skill both women had, there could be bloodshed.

Nebraska turned her attention to me and smiled. “Girl talk, Cash.”

That didn’t make me feel any better.

It wasn’t until Stella’s hand under the table found my thigh and squeezed did I drop my hand.

Zane waited until the women were out of the room and Garrett was settled in the open chair next to Kira before he launched in. “You might be the smartest dumbfuck out of the group, pulling your head out of your ass as quickly as you did. But you’re still a dumbfuck.”

He’d get no argument from me, so I remained silent and let him have his say.

“Next time you feel a case of dumbfuckery closing in, keep your mouth shut and find me.”

I felt my lips twitch and nodded.

“There’s so much love flowing from bossman I wouldn’t be surprised if unicorns and rainbows started shooting out of his ass,” Smith quipped.

Zane flipped Smith the bird and continued. “Kira, Garrett, get a lock on the hack. Theo, Smith, I want location for Damion. Easton, Jonas, back to Lore…Stella’s place. Camera’s down, everything salvageable packed up. Coop and Myles are around, take them if you need to. Cash, get your woman and girl home; you’ve got groveling to do. No time like the present. My suggestion: beg. Another suggestion: do it on your knees.”

I heard Jonas snicker. “I think I have some knee pads in my kit, might be down there for a while, old man.”

“Fuck the knee pads,” Smith started in. “He’s gonna need a back brace when Stella’s done with him. And maybe stitches.”

At the reminder of stitches, I was done with the shit talk.

“Right. With that, I’m going to get my girls and go home.”

Seven sets of eyes landed on me. Seven varying looks from astonished (Theo) to worried (Jonas) to something that looked like fatherly pride (Zane). It was Zane’s gaze I wasn’t going to dissect—I’ve never had a father, never had anyone openly share they were proud of a decision I’d made, and if I wasn’t careful Zane’s look would penetrate, and I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to process how good it felt.

I pushed back from the table but halted when Zane called my name. “You’re straight?”

He framed it as a question. What it was, was a reminder to call him if my head got twisted again.

I might’ve been a dumbass, but I wasn’t stupid. I’d already dug my grave; the last thing I needed was Stella sealing the coffin closed on the last dregs of hope I had.