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"And that...?" he asked softly.
"I’d have been better off being like Aspen and Paris."
"I’m not sure what that means? Snowy in winter and rainy in spring?"
I had to grin. "I meant, my siblings." Despite how goddamn mad I was at Camden, I laughed. "Although they do both those things too."
"Snow and rain? Seems like they’re more active than your brother realizes."
Sniggering, and pleased because this was the Aidan I remembered,playful,I murmured, "Well, I can’t deny they’re lazy. They want to get into reality TV so they can consider that a job. Daddy’s trying, but he can only do so much. They’re boring. All they do is shop." My brow puckered. "Who’d want to watch people do that?"
"I think the Kardashians have made a pretty good living out of it," he said wryly.
"You know who they are?"
"I’m a mobster, Savannah, not dead," he retorted with a short laugh.
"True."
He stopped rubbing my lip. I wanted him to carry on. Damn.
"I’m surprised the cameras don’t just want to follow your dad around."
"They do. That’s the problem. Dad’s not interested in that shit anymore. He just wants to play his concerts and live as much of a quiet life as he possibly can." I shrugged. "I was in a position to make change. I’m Dagger Daniels’ daughter. I had standing with the station, and a platform in which to disseminate the truth. What should I have done? Let countless innocent women be hurt?"
Slowly, he shook his head, his eyes darkening as he murmured, "No. You did the right thing. Sometimes doing that isn’t enough. Sometimes, not even that will instigate change, but if you didn’t try, you’d never know, would you?"
"No, I wouldn’t know," I confirmed softly, uncertain what his response would be. "As it stands, at least they lost a lot of ad revenue."
His grin was like quicksilver. "That’s the best way to hurt anyone—their pocket." I hummed, then stifled a disappointed sigh when he pulled back, rasping, "I have to go out, Savannah. But you’ll be safe here while I’m gone. Conor will have changed the access code to the helipad by now, and will probably be shoring it up like it’s the Pentagon."
I snagged my fingers around his wrist. "Where are you going?"
"I want answers about who’s targeting you. Just a vague belief that it’s the Sparrows isn’t enough."
I bit my lip.
Now he was trying to keep me safe.
Funny how this hero was about to go and help torture someone, no?
Not exactly what romance was made of, but I’d take it.
"I want you to get your ass into bed and rest. If I find out you didn’t sleep, well, there’ll be consequences."
"Consequences?" I tipped my head to the side. Conor had already threatened me with those, but it sounded far more interesting coming from Aidan. "What kind of consequences?"
"You don’t want to find out."
With that, he began limping away, but I couldn’t let him go, not without saying, "Be safe, Aidan."
It was either say that or tell him I really, really, really,reallywanted to find out.
A journalist’s most fatal flaw was their incessant need to understand. To find answers to the questions that few dared ask.
Well, I dared. I dared, all right.
Even if Aidan had gotten that rumbly vibration in his throat, that soft snag that made a shiver rush down my spine.
