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I didn’t give Gavin so much as a glance. “Don’t try to keep me from her. I’ll kill you.” It wasn’t a threat, only a simple fact. If he tried to come between Stella and me again, I’d pound his face into a bloody pulp.
“Mr. Vinemont?” Someone spoke from the hall.
“What?” I couldn’t take my eyes off Stella as the medic wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm.
“Mr. Oakman is asking for you.”
I ground my teeth so hard I thought they might crack.
“I’ll stay here with her.” Gavin walked around the bed and sat next to her, taking one of her bloodied hands in his.
I wanted to kill him, to show Stella I could protect her. But that’s what he was doing. Protecting her. I’d failed. I’d watched it all. I’d done nothing.
“Go.” He didn’t look at me when he spoke. He blamed me. He was right to. I was at fault for all of it.
I stared, wanting to will some sort of comfort into her as the medic listened for her heartbeat. I rubbed my eyes.
“Mr. Vinemont?”
“I fucking heard you.” I whirled and walked to the door, but turned back before going through. “Don’t let anyone touch her or hurt her while I’m away.”
Gavin caught my gaze, hatred written in the narrowing of his eyes. “She’ll be safe as long as you’re gone.”
I turned and left. The worst part was that he was right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
STELLA
THE HOT BREEZE ROCKED the swing as I watched Lucius and Teddy toss a football back and forth in the yard. I stretched my arms above my head, ignoring the burn of pain that still sizzled from my healing wounds. Sin came out the front door, two glasses in his hands. He passed one to me, and I sipped as he settled next to me.
He pulled me gently into his side. “It’s not too hot out here, is it?”
“No. I’m glad to be out of the house.” I rested my head against his shoulder.
“Go long!” Lucius pointed to the tree line.
“I am long,” Teddy called back.
“Longer than that, asshole. I can throw farther than a peewee league quarterback.”
I laughed. Sin laced his fingers through mine as Lucius threw to a distant Teddy. He caught it, but had to dash up a few yards first.
“Fingers slipped.” Lucius threw his hands up and turned around to look at us. “Fingers slipped. That’s what that was.”
“Sure.” Sin nodded.
“You want to try it?”
“No.” He hadn’t left my side since we returned from the trial. I didn’t remember much. From what I could tell, my faulty memory was a blessing. My nose was still swollen, and Sin had taken me to a plastic surgeon in New Orleans to repair the cuts. The scars would be barely noticeable, but I would always know they were there.
Sin watched over me day and night during the weeks since the trial, letting his prosecutor position go untended. Sometimes, it was as if he were afraid I’d disappear if he weren’t looking right at me.
“Go on and throw the ball around. Show Lucius up.” I pulled my hand away. He took it back.
“No.”
“Don’t want to embarrass him?”
He kissed my forehead. “Exactly.”
The days were already growing shorter, the trees casting long shadows over the lawn. Sin rocked us slowly as the sun made its retreat down the sky. After a while, Lucius and Teddy, winded and sweaty, bounded onto the porch and collapsed into the rocking chairs. We chatted as the fireflies began to glow, an intermittent symphony of tiny lights.
“I think I’m going to go see what’s cooking for supper.” Teddy stood and made a show of rubbing his stomach.
“Try not to fuck her against the stove. It’s dangerous.” Lucius grinned.
Teddy’s cheeks reddened, and he hurried into the house.
“That wasn’t very nice.” I shook my head at Lucius.
“He’ll live.”
“Yes, he will.” Sin kissed my hair.
Lucius glanced to the door and then back at us. “He’s gone now. Let’s talk. I have all the goods collected and ready to be rolled into the estate as soon as the gates open.”
“Stella, is your guy on the inside ready?”
“Quinlan, yes. I spoke to him earlier. He took the money and hired his own trustworthy people for the job. They know the score and will get out of dodge when it all goes down. Some of the attendants won’t know, but he’s promised to keep them out of harm’s way when all hell breaks loose.”
“How do you know we can trust him?” Lucius asked.
“We don’t. But he’s an ex-Marine, and his uncle runs a security firm. They’re working together on this, and we’re paying them both a small fortune. They won’t get the money until the job’s done.”
Lucius seemed appeased and moved on. “The supplies?”
“Already loaded up in the caterer’s vans, ready to go.”
I’d been over the plan so many times in the past three weeks that it was in my mind like a well-worn path through grass. There was no missing it.
