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“Karson is home,” I say, my voice grave.
I’ve broken his rule—to keep my hands off Magnolia—and I have no idea what that’s going to mean for me. It could be a death sentence. Or worse, banishment from her presence. But if Karson is known for one thing, it’s finding creative solutions to every problem—and I won’t be able to keep Magnolia’s condition from him. He knows every peep that is spoken in this house and if he finds out she’s suffering from someone other than me? That drastically lessens my chances of coming out of this situation intact—and free to be with Magnolia.
“You go downstairs and try to find that woman. Maura. Bring her upstairs.” I stand up and find my pants, pulling them up over my hard-on, despite Magnolia walking toward me on her knees, kissing my shoulders and chest, begging me to try again to bring her to climax.
“It hurts,” she whispers, kissing my chin while trembling. “Fix me, Pace.” She reaches for him, too, running her fingers down his stomach. “Fix me, Matty.”
“If it’s the last thing we do, baby,” I say, kissing her hard. “For now, stay here and try to relax while I handle Karson.”
Easier said than done.
Chapter Five
Karson
The moment Pace walks into my office, I know he’s fucked Magnolia.
Normally, tension rides on his shoulders like a clawed beast, but it has been significantly depleted. His footsteps are heavy, guilt bracketing his mouth. There’s also a very distinct knowledge in his eyes. An unholy light. This is a man who has seen the Promised Land—and would like to return immediately. He might be guilty, but not enough to quit her.
There isn’t anything in this world that could inspire him to do that.
Which is why I stay away from the estate as much as possible.
Being around two people who need each other so desperately is hard. Too hard.
My life has been totally devoid of anything resembling love. I raised myself on the street, eventually scaling ladders of corruption all the way to the top. When I assumed guardianship of Pace and Magnolia, there was some ridiculous part of me that hoped…they would grow to love me. But they were locked in on each other from day one.
Consumed.
There was no room for me—and I didn’t have the tools to convince them I was worthy of making room. No, I’m a cold, cutthroat bastard. That’s what I will always be.
But I was determined to give that girl, Magnolia, a chance.
She would be protected and educated until she turned eighteen, at which point, she would be given the option of leaving my palace of violence. Oh, my work never breaches these walls, but I come home with blood on my hands every single time I return. They know it—especially Pace, since he’s being groomed to follow in my footsteps. There was never any hope for him being anything but a monster, like me. He was weaned on cruelty, just like me.
But Magnolia.
There is something about her that is distinctly…alive.
She is bursting with life. Whether she is dangling from her aerial yoga ribbons, eyes closed, lost to the breeze…or throwing an unruly tantrum, she remains the glitter raining down from the ceiling into the dark, airless room that is the life I lead. The life Pace leads.
Seeing her at the end of a day of bloodshed and degeneracy is…healing.
For Pace.
Not me. I’m old enough to be her father. Grandfather, even. I’m fifty-goddamn-one.
I refuse to think of her as anything but a ward.
I refuse.
Or at least…I tried to refuse myself those illicit thoughts. But her coming out party was supposed to be when she turned eighteen. It took me a whole year to allow the planning to commence, because as soon as she was old enough…my fantasies about her started. My ward.
Realizing my gut is knotted with jealousy at the sight of Pace in his post-coital state, I grind my back teeth and stalk to the liquor cart, pouring myself three fingers of bourbon.
“Well?” I clip out. “How is she in the sack?”
Pace falls into one of the leather wingbacks sitting in the shadows of my office.
And he just stares.
“That good, huh?” I drain the entire glass and set it down carefully, even though I want to shatter it against the wall. “Worth a life of never setting eyes on her again?”
He makes a harsh sound, his hand tightening on the arm of the leather chair, squeezing hard enough to make the leather creak. “You might as well kill me.”
Despite my anger, I can’t completely ignore the pull in my chest. Right where my heart should be. If I had one. “You couldn’t wait one more fucking night. Could you.” I snatch up the decanter and pour myself another glass, mostly to stop myself from picturing them on the bed together. Writhing, grasping, moaning. Completely lost to one another in a way I will never experience. “It was important to me that she be given the option of leaving this world. Moving on to lead a normal life, away from the ugliness we bring home in our heads. If she saw what was available to her, and still chose you, I would have allowed it.”
