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“We okay?” he murmurs.
My throat tightens as I swallow. “Does it matter?”
The faintest hint of his clean, sharp scent teases my nostrils. Addictive. Familiar.
I don’t know anymore if I hate this man or love him, if I want to push him away or pull him closer. But I also truly don’t know if it matters. I’m so tangled up in him that I feel like I’d lose much more than a limb if I tried to tear myself away now.
/> I remember thinking once that there would be no end to this thing between us except death.
That may be far more true than I realized.
Marcus’s eyes narrow. “Of course it matters.”
“Will it change anything?” There’s a sharp bite to my words.
His lips press together. He looks almost angry, but I can’t tell if the anger is directed inward or outward. He drops his hand from the wall and takes a step forward, closing the gap between us. His arm loops around my back, and my breasts brush against his torso as he lowers his face to my neck and draws in a deep lungful of air.
He’s always doing this. Breathing me in like I’m his oxygen.
My skin prickles and my heart jumps in my chest, my body reacting to his touch like it always does.
But I force my arms to remain by my sides, clenching my hand as I resist the urge to reach for him.
I can’t. I can’t let myself.
“Let’s roll out!” Ryland calls from the living room, and Marcus’s fingers flex, digging into my back for a moment.
When he lifts his head, his jaw is set as his eyes bounce between mine. “This conversation isn’t over, angel.”
I don’t answer. I just follow him out to the living room, where Ryland and Theo are already standing by the door. I can tell they’re both more heavily armed than they were before. Ryland hands a gun to Marcus, and all three of them surround me like a trio of secret service agents as we slip out of the house.
It’s early morning, and the bright sunshine and faint chirping of birds seem strange, at odds with the heavy pounding of my heart.
The tranquil calm around us seems threatening somehow, and I shift nervously from foot to foot as Marcus and Ryland quickly uncover the car and drop the tarp on the ground. We pile inside, in roughly the same configuration we were in yesterday—Ryland behind the wheel, Marcus beside him, and Theo in the back with me.
Ryland starts the car up and turns around, heading back down a long driveway. I’m able to take in our surroundings much more clearly today, and I realize we’re in a remote part of the city, where the properties are spaced farther apart. That’s probably exactly why they picked this location for one of their safe houses.
But how safe is it, really?
Not safe enough that they’re willing to risk staying there. Would Carson really be able to track down the connection between whatever name the house is rented under and these three men?
It seems almost incomprehensible to me, but I have to remind myself that these people all have resources I don’t. I can’t even get anywhere with the CPS office about my brother, let alone somehow track down records on under-the-table deals or hidden leases.
The drive is tense and quiet. No music plays, and none of us talk, except for a few quiet words exchanged between Marcus and Ryland as they debate the best route to reach the warehouse district undetected.
At one point, Theo reaches over and squeezes my hand. When I glance at him, his blue-green eyes are soft. “Only five more hours. That’s all. Then it’s done.”
His words don’t really soothe me at all, but his strong fingers wrapped around mine do, and I soak up that little bit of comfort.
Only five hours. They’ve already survived sixty-seven. We all have.
We’re so fucking close.
We drive through a section of Halston I recognize, and then into a part I don’t. We must be getting close though, because the buildings change around us, becoming more industrial. It’s a Monday morning, and all the traffic heading into the city obviously isn’t coming this way. The road is nearly deserted.
Marcus and Ryland begin talking quietly in the front seat again, making plans for how they’ll defend our position once we arrive. The warehouse we’re heading toward is one Ryland has access to through a contractor who used to work for his family. So there is still some traceable connection between him and this location, but it’d be a long shot for anyone to pick up on it.
“It’s big, but we should be able to lock down one part of it,” he tells Marcus quietly. There’s something in his demeanor that’s both terrifying and awe inspiring—a cool sort of efficiency, as if he’s shut off every part of his mind and heart except whatever is needed to deal with the problem at hand.
