Page 57 of Devil’s Promise

I want things from her. But she’s strong enough to resist giving them to me. And her reason about trust…

It’s not sitting right.

That’s what she chose to say to me? After a year of silence, those are the words she chose?

I know my brothers are uneasy about my actions. I’ve always dreamed bigger. Pushed harder. And I do it for them as much as myself. That’s bullshit. I’ve been doing this for me.

And maybe they’re not sure they can trust me to make the right choices either. Being ready to die is one thing. Dying for one brother’s foolish bullshit is another. Am I like Rock? Have I been pushing to destroy myself, just not with drugs?

And when I think about what I did to Vigo. The deal I made with Don. Who was that really for? None of them wanted it. Only me…

I went into the system when I was six. I don’t remember my mother, but I do my father. Strung out, he’d make me promise after promise about how he was going to clean up. Take me to Disneyland, that kind of bullshit.

He overdosed, of course, and I was an angry little fucker for a long time. It’s why I’m a stickler for keeping my word.

But maybe with my brothers, and with Promise, I need to do more than just fulfill promises. Maybe it’s time for me to put their needs first.

And maybe with Don…

I scrub my hands down my face and then kick open the door to my bedroom.

Promise’s stuff is everywhere. Her clothes are in the closet, a pair of shoes tucked under the bed, and her products are lined up on my dresser.

It only takes a second, and then I spin, striding back down the hall. Her door is still open, but I stop at the entrance.

She’s lying on the bed, on her back now, one knee raised up, so I have a little peek of the nude thong she’s got on under the little white dress. I go rock fucking hard.

“Promise,” I grit out, my eyes skimming down her legs to her bare feet. I fucking love her feet. I think I might be developing a fetish. “We need to talk.”

Her chin notches higher in the air.

“Please.” I swallow down a lump. I never ask like this. “There are things I don’t understand, and I have a feeling you might be the one person who can explain them to me.”

Her lips part as she sits up. Then she pulls out her phone. I want to hear her voice. It grounds me somehow, but instead she sends a text.

I’m listening.

I drop down onto my knees, still in the doorway. “My brothers hate my plan. They think it’s too dangerous.”

Which plan?

She tucks her legs under her as she leans her weight on one arm. She looks so perfect, she makes me ache.

Shit. This might have been a bad idea, but I’m in it now. “Making a deal with your father.”

Marrying me?

“They don’t really want a woman in our ranks, but it’s more about me making stupid moves.”

Are you?

I look to the side, considering my answer. “I know you’re right about your father likely planning a double cross, but I have no idea what his game is, and it makes me nervous that they’re right. That my ambition made me leap before I looked.”

Promise’s mouth turns down.

Why are you asking me?

“Because you know him. You know that world. I know you have theories and I know you’ll have methods of winning.”