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I nod. “He could’ve let me believe he really was some honorable criminal broker. If the last target had been as fucked as the rest, I would’ve taken him out and moved on.”
“But he overreached,” Kenny goes on.
“And now he has to go,” I growl.
Kenny nods grimly. “You’re right. None of you deserve to live with this. This man. Torturing you because it makes him feel tough. I’m going to run a check on Mike Lancaster. If it’s a pseudonym, we’ll keep digging. In the meantime, I suggest everybody rest up.”
He gives me a look, and I get the message…
He wantsmeto rest, too, just in case something happens.
When it’s time, we’ll both need to be sharp.
Once we’re done, I approach Kenny outside.
“Did you bring it?” I ask.
He nods. “It’s in the car. But I’m not sure what good it’ll do. If Mr. Red and Mike are the same man – which seems to be the case – he already knows that Freya’s the target.”
“I know.” I sigh. “The cops at Freya’s house were looking for the butterfly… I thought maybe I could create a decoy. But we can’t risk it.”
“But you still want it?” he asks.
I nod, thinking of Freya, hoping she’ll find this romantic.
“I’ll be forty-one this year, brother,” I say with a smirk. “It’s about time I got a tattoo.”
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Freya
Julie and I sit on the balcony, overlooking the forest, which we’re allowed to do now that Kenny’s men are patrolling the grounds.
Julie has been sticking close to me ever since we talked in the security room, meaning all day yesterday was a no-Felix zone.
With everything going on, I shouldn’t long so fiercely for that steaminess we shared, or even the talking in the tattoo studio, before I knew who he really was.
But I do.
I burn for it with every inch of my being.
We turn as somebody approaches.
It’s Felix, wearing a clean long-sleeved shirt that matches the color of his hair and simple blue jeans. His muscles press through the material of the shirt, making me want to collapse against him, to feel that safe, protected feeling.
I could’ve solved any awkwardness by telling mom and Julie. But they’re struggling to accept all this as it is. There is no sense in adding a new romance on top of it right now.
Or is that an excuse?
If I don’t have to tell anybody, I never have to decide what we are, exactly, Felix and me.
He said we’re the start of something.
I want us to bethe endof something, for each other… the end of other partners, the end of wondering if we’ll ever find the one, the end of feeling alone.
“Is everything okay?” I ask as he moves closer.
I’m achingly aware of Julie watching us.
