Page 143 of Gangsters and Guns


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Chapter Fifty-Five

ALISTAIR

Tonight was amazing, and after our performance… No, I can’t call it that. It wasn’t an act or a show for the audience. It was a consummation, it was…love. Sex used to be meaningless to me, I threw it around, it was easy and fast, but with Rory?

I waited because I knew it needed to mean something. It needed to be important, and I didn’t want to fuck her while I was high on drugs. I wanted to remember every single detail, and thanks to tonight, I will.

I tend to her in an aftercare room, and we end up leaving a few minutes later. My little kitten is tired as she curls into my arms. Her makeup is smeared, her dress is wrinkled, and she holds her heels in her hands as I carry her to the limo. She’s never looked so fucking beautiful.

And she’s all mine—ours, I should say.

We are three lucky bastards.

I sit her on my lap and hold her all the way home.

After tipping Fredrick, I carry her up to her apartment and let myself in. She doesn’t even stir. I strip her and clean her makeup off and tie her hair back before placing her in bed. Mischief demands my attention, and after a few kisses and cuddles, he curls up in his spot at her feet while I take off my clothes.

My eyes are unable to look away from the goddess before me.

How can she take everything we throw at her? Take it with dignity and strength I never knew possible? How does she handle it? Handle us? She’s made all three Dixen brothers weak, helpless, and lost in her, all without tearing anyone else down, without threats, riches, or sex. She did it all by herself through her heart and her kindness.

Once I’m naked, I slip in next to her, pulling her into my arms, where she snores softly. My poor little kitten is exhausted. I can’t help the smile that curves my lips, knowing I’m the reason why. She’s had a bad week, I know that. I don’t know the cause of her stress, but I won’t stop until I find out. I know she’ll tell us when she’s ready, but my patience is wearing thin. I can’t stand to see her upset. But for now, this is enough—her sleeping in my arms, trusting me, caring for me in a way no one ever has.

She wants nothing in return.

I’m unwilling to close my eyes, worried she’ll disappear into smoke if I do. So I hold her tight as I fight off sleep. Just as my eyes are sliding closed, a buzzing sound jolts me awake. I freeze and look down at Rory to make sure I didn’t wake her, but she doesn’t move. Wondering what’s so important to make someone message me in the middle of the fucking night, I slowly inch away from Rory and reach for my phone on the nightstand. I see no messages or notifications. Thinking I must be imagining things, I set it down and curl back into my girl.

But it comes again, the vibration.

I look over at my phone, and it’s still dark. What the fuck? I slip from the bed, making sure to cover Rory as I look around for the source, wanting to shut whatever it is off so it won’t wake her. It comes again, rapidly this time. I follow the sound around the room until I stop next to her. It’s nearly underneath her, but she’s dead to the world.

Concerned, I slowly roll her to the other side and gently lift the mattress. Her snores stop for a moment, so I freeze until they restart and then reach blindly around in the dark. My fingers connect with something smooth and cold, and I yank it out, blinking at the cheap disposable phone in my hand.

My eyes go to Rory in confusion. Maybe this is her old one? But why would she hide it under the mattress? Clasping it tight, I sit on the end of the bed and lean on my knees as I stare at the slim black device, wondering if I should look at it. Before, I wouldn’t have hesitated, knowing everything she has is ours.

But I want her to trust me, would it upset her to know I looked?

Just then, it vibrates in my grip, the screen lighting up, and my choice is taken from me.

Unknown:You have until Sunday.

No name is linked to the number, but the threat is evident. Who the fuck is threatening my girl? Who dares to think they could get away with that? We’ll rip them to pieces and bury them somewhere they will never be found. Is this why she’s been so scared all week? Determined to find out, I open the phone. I’ll take it to Rogan later today to trace the number, but I wonder if—

I freeze, my blood going cold as I scroll through the texts and call log from that number. In the texts is a picture, a picture of some of our documents…on Marvin. Swallowing, I look back at Rory and then open the picture roll. There are more documents, pictures of us, of our work. Meeting times and places.

Rory is betraying us.

She’s a fucking spy.

She’s been feeding information to someone…but who?

My head spins, and memories come crashing down on me. When we first hired her, I recognized her for what she was, the thief who failed to procure a set of jewels for me. But in the haze of my desire and love for her, I forgot her past. I forgot that a few days after she was taken away in handcuffs in the back of a police car, she was here in my office, applying for a job as our new personal assistant. She means so much more to me now that I don’t even think of her as the pretty thief any longer.

Why didn’t I tell my brothers then? Stupid Alistair making another stupid decision. I’ve fallen in love with this woman, and it’s blinded me to her truth. I should have seen it coming, but I let my heart get in the way. I can feel the walls I allowed to crumble rebuilding as the hard, cocky Alistair fights to regain control over my emotions.

I’m crushed.

Heart shattering from the betrayal, I gaze down at the phone in my hand. It looks like she hasn’t sent anything in a while, and the other person has been getting increasingly angry. Who the fuck is it? I swallow harder, feeling sick to my core. My heart lurches as I stand, and I feel dizzy as I look back at her.

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