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“It just became my favorite room in this whole damn place,” Zaid jokes, nipping at her shoulder lightly before stepping back too. Her eyes darken in response, and it takes all my fucking willpower not to grab her, rip her dress off, and bury myself inside her, fuck the consequences. But instead, I focus on putting myself back together, tucking the tails of my shirt back in and slipping my jacket back on.

As I guide her across the room, I love the way she seems to sink into my touch. There’s no wariness or stiffness.

Just trust. Desire.

I open the door and lead the way through, with Zaid behind us. We keep her sandwiched between us, and it’s not just because we both want to be as close to her as possible. I feel better this way, better knowing that the two of us are surrounding her. Keeping her safe.

We’re walking so close together that her body bumps and brushes against mine, but she makes no move to pull herself away as we move back into the main room of the bar.

I don’t see Ciro yet, but Hale’s gaze quickly finds us from the other side of the room. His eyes narrow a little as he registers Grace between me and Zaid, the way my hands brush against her hips as we move through the crowd.

One look and I’m sure he knows exactly what we were just doing, but I meet his gaze without flinching, for once not giving a fuck about what he thinks. I’m not going to apologize for wanting Grace, and I’m not going to tiptoe around that fact. The truth is, it ultimately all comes down to her and what she wants. If she wants all of us, I’m willing to share. I’d rather do that than push her away out of some ego-driven need to claim her all for myself.

I wouldn’t even consider it if it were anyone but my best friends. But Zaid and I already know how to share, and the idea of Grace with Hale or Ciro… with all four of us? Honestly, it turns me on more than it pisses me off.

I don’t know whether Hale and Ciro would be up for sharing, and I can’t even fucking contemplate the possibility of this driving a permanent wedge between us all. We’re gonna have to work this shit out eventually, but for now, I’m just gonna bask in the sated satisfaction of what just happened.

It’s clear that the party is dying down. We were in that back room longer than I thought. Time slipped away while I was distracted by her soft lips and her sweet little noises.

Just thinking about it makes my cock twitch. Fuck, I want to pull her back in there and do it all over again. But the crowd has already thinned a lot, and the remaining people are beginning to gravitate toward the bar’s exit. Ciro slips into place beside us as we head out the door.

The night air is cold, but compared to the warmth of the bar, it feels refreshing. Ciro casts a look at Grace before shifting his gaze to me and Zaid, and I know he’s noticed her flushed cheeks and swollen lips just like Hale did. His expression is hard to read, but I’m used to that with Ciro. I pay more attention to his body language than his face, since that’s what usually clues me in to his mental state.

He doesn’t look pissed, thank fuck.

“It’s cold,” Grace mutters, wrapping her arms around herself. I shrug off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders, and she shoots me a grateful look as she tucks it around herself.

“We should get out of here,” I tell my brother and Ciro. “I’ll go check in with Hale—see if he’s planning on coming with us, or if he needs one of us to stick around.”

He may still have business that needs to get done. The Boston deal was big, and securing that trade was a major victory for the Novaks. But it also comes with a lot of logistics to work out, so it’s not like we can all sit back and coast from here on out.

Leaving Grace alone with Zaid and Ciro, I make my way through the small crowd gathered on the street, finding Hale in the middle of a conversation with Damian, Myles, Frank and Stanley.

“Where’s Leland?” Stanley mutters, turning around. “He should probably hear this.”

I find myself unconsciously glancing around at the dying crowd, searching out the other ca

ptain. He’s one of the few that make up Damian’s most trusted circle, and I didn’t even realize he was missing from the small group until now. As someone opens the door, I catch a glimpse of him inside the bar.

“He’s still inside,” I offer. “Talking to Connell.”

“Tell him we need him out here,” Hale says. His gaze flicks to Grace. “I’ll join you and the others in a minute.”

I nod, then head back toward the entrance to The Blind Pour. The bar is mostly cleared out, with just a few people left inside.

“Leland.” I call his name as I open the door, and he looks over. “Damian is looking for you.”

He grunts, throwing back the last of his drink. He claps Connell on the shoulder and then follows me out of the building.

Pop!

A loud sound pierces the night, and then several more follow in rapid succession. Screams erupt as bullets spray, and my senses sharpen as people throw themselves to the ground. One thought rises above all the others, an urgent drumbeat in my head.

Where’s Grace?

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Grace

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