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Sadie eyes me. “So, he’s hot?”
“Unfortunately. It’s his personality that sucks. And his reputation,” I add.
“Which would be…?” Sadie takes a left turn, heading towards my house.
“From what I’ve heard, the guy is a pig. He never has relationships that last longer than a night, the clubs are basically his second home, and he’s irresponsible.”
“So basically, your exact opposite,” Sadie says, unable to contain her grin. “Except the relationship part. I was starting to think you didn’t even like men. Or women.”
I frown. “I’m just busy. School is a lot, plus helping my dad. I don’t have time for any of that nonsense right now.”
“Well, apparently, now you’ll be forced to.”
“Not helping.”
Sadie sighs, pulling up to a red light. “I know, I’m sorry. You sort of just dumped this on me with no warning, so I don’t know how to act. Do you want me to, like, support this? To make you feel better? Help you get out of it? What do you need?”
The light turns green. I watch the city as it passes by, the people making their way along the sidewalks, the brilliant signs advertising the latest perfume. I have no idea what I need, but I know it’s not Killian.
“I just needed to get out of there,” I say finally. “I’ll figure out the rest on my own.”
Sadie reaches over to take my hand, looping her fingers through mine. “You aren’t alone, Cara. Kimmy and I will be here if you need us. I’m sure Kimmy wouldn’t mind beating him up for you.”
Just the image of Kimmy taking Killian down makes me laugh. Sadie relaxes beside me. “Thanks, but really, he won’t be that hard to manage.”
“If you say so…” Sadie doesn’t sound the least bit convinced.
We drive the rest of the way in silence. She lets me off at the gate, making me promise that I will text her an update tomorrow. I watch her pull away, not wanting to go inside just yet. Because if I do, I know I’ll just be waiting for my father to return and tell me all the ways I embarrassed him tonight. But it’s inevitable. He’ll come home eventually.
I head through the gate, nodding towards Adam manning the guard’s box. The butler opens the door for me, letting me in, and I immediately head upstairs. As soon as I step into my room, the exhaustion hits. The humiliation still burns, scalding hot. Killian had made a fool out of me more than once tonight, and I hated him for it.
Sinking onto the mattress, my fingers tangle in my hair. If this is what our future looks like, then I don’t want any part of it. My father thought I could wrangle Killian into line and be the puppet master behind the curtain. However, I’m not so sure Killian’s the type to be controlled. He’s a wildfire, destroying everything in his path without caring who gets hurt in the process. Including me.
And I am so not prepared to handle that.
7
KILLIAN
The BMW X7 bounces as it hits yet another pothole. Cain was driving us to one of the mechanic shops we know belongs to the Russians. Unfortunately for his car, it’s in one of the worst neighborhoods that have been neglected for far too long. He curses again as the car bumps along.
“This is going to fucking ruin my damn car,” he growls, taking the next right.
I pat him on the shoulder. “We’ll just get you another one.”
“But you know you could always drive slower,” Declan calls from the back seat. Cain glares at him in the rear view mirror.
“Shut up and focus,” he snaps.
My fingers tap along the barrel of my gun as we near our final destination. The Russians had various pockets around the shittier parts of the city; mechanic shops, loan sharks, the works. This shop specifically had been given to us by the little birdie we’d caught after the attack. It was the only information Archer could get before killing him.
While it might still be grunt work, I cannot help but feel a twinge of anticipation. When Sienna had appointed me underboss, Dante and I had spent a lot of time together training, adding to what I’d learned from the streets after all those years of being left to fend for myself. All-in-all, I enjoy tasks like this; I get to show off my newfound skills. It makes me feel powerful. In control. Dangerous.
“What are we expecting?” Archer asks calmly.
“From what we know, there should only be two or three men working there. It’s a smaller shop, but this is the one where that other rat came from,” I tell them. “The goal here is just to gather information. No retaliation, just recon work.”
“If they give anything up, they’ll be dead anyway,” Archer points out.
