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“Sure seems like it.”
“I’m on your side. Always have been, always will be.”
I shake my head and lean on my elbow, resting my head in my hand. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“You know we can never be together, right?”
“I’m aware.” Simon tries to hide the hurt that washes over his face briefly. “But that doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”
He only wants what he can’t have. If I decided to give Simon the time of day, the thrill of the chase would be gone, and I’d have ruined everything with Magnus, Dom, and Co for a man who only pursued me for the fun of it.
“Do you think they’re hiding something from me?” I ask him.
“Yes. Without a doubt.” Simon gets up from the table to walk a few feet over to the food truck to get our order as it comes available. He returns a second later, never having actually taken his eyes off me the whole time he left my immediate presence. “But that’s their nature. They can’t tell you everything.”
“They don’t tell meanything.” I pull a few napkins out of the holder and give a couple to Simon and keep the rest for myself.
“What do you want them to do? Come home from a long day of torturing people and be like,hey honey, killed that traitor from the second division today. Might bust another guy’s kneecaps in front of his family tomorrow if you want to come watch.” Simon takes a bite of his taco, some of the filling falling onto the other taco in his basket.
“I mean, no, not specifically that, butthatwould be better than nothing. I get the silent treatment at best. Even Magnus is vague as fuck, and he used to be the one who includes me in everything.” I poke at the food in front of me but pull my hand away when I notice a faint bruise forming from where Simon had pulled me from the street just a little bit ago.
“If it makes you feel better, they don’t tell me shit either.” Simon wipes at his mouth with his napkin and points to my uneaten food. “I’ll force-feed you if I have to.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.” He nudges the basket toward me. “Don’t make me have to come over there.”
I take a bite of the taco to comply with his demands, the flavors melting into my mouth and reminding me of the appetite I once had earlier. "These are better than the last ones we got from here."
“Carne asada,” Simon tells me.
I’ve eaten more meals with this man than I have my own boyfriends. Not just lately, but in general. If you don’t count sleeping hours, Simon and I have spent more time together, too. He’s their enemy, which makes him my enemy, but somehow, he’s become my most trusted ally. The one person who I canactuallycount on being there if I need him. There really is something to be said about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.
I can’t imagine this is what the guys wanted, or even anticipated, but what did they expect when they pushed me away and into the arms of this man who would do anything for me?
I would never act on it, or betray our relationship, but it does make me question who cares for me more—my men, or their enemy?
“So, you have no idea what’s been keeping them extra occupied lately?” I eat more of the food and hope that Simon has some kind of information he’s willing to give me.
He pops the rest of his taco into his mouth, chews, and swallows it before speaking. "There's been some shipment issues. I'm guessing they're navigating that."
I nod like I have any clue what that might entail. “Isn’t that something the logistics department should handle?”
“That’s not how these things work. Not on this scale. There were casualties. And the product wasn’t stolen, it was destroyed, like a message was being sent.” Simon tells me more than I bargained for, and I’m grateful for every word of it.
"What kind of message?" I try to get as much out of him as possible until he realizes he's sharing details they probably don't want me to know.
“A threat of some kind maybe. Probably one of the rival factions testing Dom’s new authority, see if he has the chops to handle the situation.”
“And does he?” I ask the question even though I know the answer. Of course Dominic is more than qualified to handle whatever is thrown at him.
“That’s why he has the job and not me.”
“You conceded,” I remind him. “My dying wish, remember?”
Simon’s pretty face tenses. “I’d rather forget if I’m being honest.”
