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Ayana wraps the sheet around her body and rushes over to where I’m standing while I slam my palm over the bastard’s eyes. I don’t like the fact that this guy can get a visual of her like this, wearing that damn thin sheet, so I press my knee into his gut, my elbow trapping his neck to the floor.
Ayana glares at him with enough fury to sizzle bacon. Or maybe a steak. Mmmm, steak. “Why the farging fuck would you sneak in here? That’s going too far. You guys were tailing me? And you waited until…until the middle of the night to sneak in here? No! Just no!”
“Thought you needed help,” the guy mutters from under my elbow. “Needed extricating.”
“Extricating?” I lean down a little harder. “No extricating needed here!”
“You weren’t answering your phone,” Bunny Man—how can that really be his chosen name—gurgles.
“Because it’s the middle of the damn night, and I wanted privacy!” Ayana kneels down right by Bunny Man’s—seriously, for real—head. “I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions, and I can take care of myself. I certainly don’t need any of you guys coming in here or into anyone’s house—”
“Breaking in,” I correct.
“Breaking into anyone’s house to try and check up on me. What were you thinking?”
“We voted on it,” Bunny Man—one day, I really need to hear how he came to choose that name—wheezes. “When we found out who he is, your dad was worried and furious. We had to do something.”
“What do you mean by who he is? You know who he is. He works for my dad. Good lord. What you really mean is when you tracked and watched me, which is just a kind way of saying you stalked me and found out I was getting romantically involved with someone. Then, Dad had a shit fit, and the shit hit the fan, and the fit hit the shit, and you all came up with the bright idea of trying to save me when I didn’t need saving because I’m apparently not allowed to be an adult woman with adult desires who makes adult choices. Meaning, I’m not allowed to have a boyfriend.”
Oh, holy wow. Is that what I am? Is that what we’re doing? Are we dating? We haven’t really put a label on it or anything, so…just…wow. I like it. I like the sound of it. It’s different. And it’s the very first time I’ve ever been called that. I mean, a totally awesome and sexy macho king-of-the-bedroom buddy would be more exciting, but it is kind of long-winded.
“No. Who he is,” Bunny Man clarifies, and shit. Oh. Shit. “He’s working undercover. His family wants to infiltrate the club and take it down. It is what they do, what they’ve done in the past. They’re really good at covering their tracks, but not good enough. Not for a guy like Hacker Beast-Mother Computer-Destroyer.”
Okay, is that seriously a name? Are you fucking kidding me? Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, right. Too hard to blend in. Also, everyone would know that name was fake. It would look awesome on an ID, though. Just saying.
“They’re going to kidnap you and use you against the club,” Bunny Man yells. “I swear, that’s who he really is. They’re a bunch of hackers. They take down organized crime and bad people, steal their money, and give it away to worthy causes before putting them out of business for good. I think they got us confused with an organization like that. He’s a mole. A rat. That’s why he’s working at the bar. And that’s why he’s cozying up to you.”
My head snaps up, and I get a load of Ayana’s face. Betrayed. Wounded. Gutted. Her eyes are steeped with her horror, her disbelief, her disappointment. Oh, to see this after she worked so hard earlier tonight to reassure me. Her mouth works and then slowly twists, her sorrow and shock turning into full-fledged red-seeing rage.
“Let him up!” she commands, staring me down. “I’m furious with both of you!”
I ease up on Bunny Man, and as soon as I do, he shoves me off roughly. I hit the floor, but my years of training keep me from falling on my face, even if that’s what I kind of deserve right now. I was dreading this. We needed more time. More time to figure out how to tell her the truth, where to go from here, and how to keep Granny and my brothers safe and out of the spotlight.
Something in my chest breaks wide open when Ayana stumbles to the bed and sits down hard, her eyes like two burning coals, no longer big and dusky with sated passion and warmth but hard and cold and distrustful.
“The truth,” she growls, glowering at me. “I want it from you. Is it true? What he’s saying?”
