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So to answer Isaiah’s question… “Not really.”

I didn’t have anywhereelseto be, no, but I also couldn’t stay here. This thing with thePredatorswas getting way more complicated than it was ever supposed to. I’d come to Vegas for a very specific task, and with that out of reach, I should’ve moved on.

But I hadn’t.

And now I kept finding myself drifting into thoughts of the club’s vice president—her eyes, her energy, her body, hermouth.In more ways than one. The slick shit that came out of it, the intoxicating softness of those lips, and the damnpossibilitiesI hadn’t yet seen.

All of it, fucking dangerous.

None of it more alarming than the unfamiliar depths of emotion she inspired, with little to no warning of the shift.

If she said there was an enemy, cool, I was prepared for war.

If anybody did her harm, I was taking it back in flesh.

If she smiled… I wanted to be the one who put it there.

Dangerous.

And not just for me, for her, too. These waters weren’t just uncharted, they were… alien. I could step into a role and be what the situation called for, but… it would be just that.

A role.

And Tati deserved better than a damn performance.

“You ever worry you’re fucking up her life?”I asked Isaiah, knowing I was going down a complicated road by even bringing the shit into conversation.

Fuck it though.

“Who? Dacia?” he asked, instantly perking up when referring to the formerRosewho was now his wife.

I’d seen her before, but never met her, and as with everything inThe Garden, I was wondering now if that was on purpose. There were so many of us there, and yet so many ways we hadn’t crossed paths.

It was too coincidental to not be by design.

But whatwasthe purpose?

To wreak distrust?

To make us loners?

If that was the case… shit. It kinda seemed like all the training, the trauma, had created theoppositeeffect. Now that we weren’t part of that organization anymore, we were gravitating to each other more than ever, with nothing except our own lingering demons standing in the way of us banding together.

So fucking close, but so incredibly far.

I nodded, confirming my overly simplified articulation of a much bigger question—if he was concerned about the potential negative impact of his presence on Dacia’s, and now, their child’s life. It wasn’t as if we were bred to be husband material, let alone forfatherhood,so it was a Russian roulette for us to step into it.

Isaiah’s gaze dropped as he took another long guzzle from his water bottle, then nodded. “Yeah, I worry about it. All the damn time.”

“What do you do about it?”

He shrugged. “I remind myself of my mission.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Mission?”

“Yeah—my self-imposed objective. Iputmyself back in her life after we’d been separated. I made a conscious choice to step into this relationship. Nobody made me do that,” he said, frowning at his hands. “So the idea of walking away from it... that’s something I could never do to her. I made the commitment, and all I want in this life is to stand by it—I’ve got the chance for something I don’t deserve and wasneversupposed to have. I can’t fuck it up,” he told me, shaking his head.

“But doesn’t working with Alicia contradict that?” I asked, pointing out what was obvious to me, but… maybe not so much to him, since he was right there in it.

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