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“Because I need to know who killed Mom,” I admit, the words just coming. It’s time to give Dad some of the information he needs so he can wrap his mind around my life. “And because I love James.”

Dad’s frown deepens. “Your mother died in an accident.”

It doesn’t escape my notice that he’s completely swerved my final statement. “It was no accident.”

He recoils, his eyes flicking to James. “What are you talking about?”

“One day, Dad, I will tell you everything.” I tuck an arm through his and start leading him toward the house. “But just know this,” I say, looking at him. “James is saving me.”

He shakes his head, a clear indication that he doesn’t understand and probably never will. “I should call Amber,” he says, reaching up to his chest again, massaging.

“Dad, I want Doc to check you over first,” I say, not liking his chalky complexion.

“Who’s Doc?”

Esther approaches, her friendly smile as friendly as always. I can’t help returning it because I know what’s coming. “I’m putting the kettle on,” she says.

“Would you mind showing my dad to the kitchen?” I ask. “I’m sure he could do with one of your famous teas.” I pass him over to Esther as his head bats back and forth between us. “Esther will take care of you. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Esther, ever on the ball, whisks him off, away from the brewing showdown on the driveway, without giving him the opportunity to protest. And like she knows him inside out, she starts distracting him from the army of murderers behind him with compliments.

I sigh, seeing Fury limping toward the house. Rose is still attached to Danny’s front while he talks to the others, obviously detailing what just went down, and James is sitting on the hood of Danny’s mangled Merc, arms and legs crossed, watching me.

I wander over and lower my ass next to his. “Why were you there?”

“Because I got a call.”

“From?”

“The Bear.”

“What did he say?”

“Your name.”

I swing my eyes to his, not panicked, not worried, just surprised. “So he lured you there and you fell for it?” God, he must have been in his element with Danny Black there too. Two birds, one bomb. Did he know The Brit was there?

“Fell for it?” James laughs over his breath, and there’s not one scrap of humor in it. “What did you want me to do, Beau? Carry on with my workout and hope he was joking?”

My eyes drop to the ground. I don’t know what the hell I want. I just want this to be over. I rub at my temple, hearing Otto and Goldie still bickering. “What’s wrong with those two?”

“Otto was hanging out at Hiatus with Brad. Goldie wasn’t best—” Pulling up, he takes my arm, stroking over my scar. I look down and see a long cut, the blood drying. “You’re always injured.”

I know what he’s thinking, and it doesn’t sit well. So I pull my arm away and move in front of him, roughly pushing his thighs apart and getting in between them, my arms draped around his neck. “I’m okay,” I assure him. The cut? It’s trivial. It’s nothing in the grand scheme of things. We’ve both sustained so much worse.

I reach forward and brush my fingertip lightly over his cheekbone, where a tiny shard of glass is glimmering in the sunlight. “Keep still,” I whisper, leaning into him and placing my mouth over the area, sucking gently while running my tongue across his skin. When I can no longer feel the shard grazing my flesh, I pull back and pinch the shard off the end of my tongue.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, gazing so deeply into my eyes.

And because we understand each other’s language, I take his hand and lead him into the house. To our room. To our bed.

To that place where there is only us, electricity, and a ferocious need that can never be sated.

I’m stripped, tied to the bed, blindfolded, and gagged.

“Oh my God,” I breathe when I feel his tongue sweep through my pussy. “More.”

13

DANNY

* * *

If this is the welcome home I’ll get each time, I might try and get myself blown up every day, the slap aside, of course. My blood has gone from being charged with adrenalin to charged with need. Need for her.

Release.

Clear my head.

I’m certainly not thinking straight, because every fiber of my being is demanding me to go on a shooting spree until some fucker tells me who the fuck The Bear is. He’s laying traps down all over Miami, and we’re walking right into them. Release.

“Baby, I can’t breathe,” I whisper, reaching back for her arms and forcing them away. She loosens her hold but compensates by climbing up me and wrapping her thighs around me too. “I’m going to take a shower,” I say to no one in particular, carrying Rose up the steps as Tank moves aside, nodding.

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