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I sweep everything off the table, and a few cups shatter, sending shards in every direction. Abruptly, I push myself away from the table and begin to curse.
How in the hell are they still one step ahead of me? Even with a man on the inside, feeding us information about their next moves?
Without him, we’re going to have to go in blind, and I don’t like our odds. I don’t fucking like them one bit. We’re already drawing too much attention to ourselves, and with the police in the mayor’s back pocket, I know they’re circling us.
How long is it going to be before they come knocking?
The only thing keeping them at bay is the knowledge of what’ll happen if they target us directly. While the police might be in the mayor’s back pocket and on his payroll, I know the chief of police isn’t stupid enough to go after me directly.
Or any of my men.
Because he knows the Blackthornes have ties beyond the borders of the city. Unless he wants fire and brimstone to rain down on his precious city, the chief of police is going to keep turning a blind eye and find excuses to let me off the hook.
Even as the pile of dead bodies grows.
I’ve already lost too many of my men to consider this a sweeping victory.
Right now, we just barely have the upper hand, but I know it won’t be long until our enemies throw something else at us. I’ve spent all week fending off attacks from the Philipses and the Natoris, just barely keeping them at bay. As for our dear mayor, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him, and I know exactly why.
When push comes to shove, Mayor Hughes is a fucking coward. This might be the only good thing he’s ever done for me.
And I know that he’s hunkering down in his fortress and waiting to see who emerges victorious. When the smoke clears, and he’s left to clean up the debris, Mayor Hughes will be free to claim victory for himself and clean up the city for his constituents. After that, it’ll be a matter of allying himself with the winner.
Fucking asshole.
I should’ve taken care of all of them before this spiraled out of control.
When I spin around to face Paul, he’s eyeing me warily, and his hands are clenched into fists at his side. “Find me another man on the inside. I don’t care what it takes, and I don’t care how much it costs. We need to stay ahead of them.”
And I need to know what Rich is planning next. Because a man like that doesn’t just disappear.
As soon as Paul leaves the room, I fish my phone out of my pocket and dial Tristan. He answers on the second ring, and I hear Isabella’s voice in the background.
It soothes some of the anger pumping through my veins. “Has anything happened? Are you safe?”
Tristan pauses. “We’re safe. Isabella wants to talk to you.”
Before I can protest, her voice comes on, and I have to press my head against the nearest wall. “You have no idea how much I fucking miss you, dove.”
“Carter, I miss you too. When am I coming home?”
“I don’t know yet. There’s still a lot of shit that needs to be taken care of, and I don’t want you here until it’s safe.”
Isabella exhales, and I hear her footsteps. Moments later, I hear a door open and close. When her voice comes back on, it’s clearer than before and filled with sadness. “I wish you were here.”
“Just pretend that I am,” I tell her in a husky voice. “Pretend I’m behind you right now, running my fingers over your soft skin and kissing the back of your neck.”
Isabella’s sigh is full of longing and yearning. “I can feel you.”
“Can you feel me pressing myself against your back? Can you feel how much I miss you?”
Isabella makes a low noise, and it’s all I can do not to snatch my keys off the counter and race to her. I imagine pressing on the gas and speeding past all the traffic lights and all the traffic until she’s in my arms. Then, I see myself kicking down the front door and taking her into my arms.
I need to feel her.
I need to taste her.
“Imagine me tying your hands together,” I continue in a thick voice. “Are you imagining it?”
