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“There’s a fucking playset out there,” he said in the same hushed tone I’d used. Maybe we weren’t such tough bad-asses after all.
“Change of plans. Wait here for Reno and his baby to leave the house. Make sure they get out unharmed. Then torch the place. Make it hot. Find a stiff and toss him inside. Don’t you dare touch the body of a kid. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Carlos would ensure I’d done the deed. Fuck this shit. I suddenly hated the world I’d grown up in. The silence was more about reverence than anything. I finally glanced at him. When he gave me a nod of respect, I felt like a shit.
“I’ll take care of it, bossman. Go back to your bride to be. I think I like her already.”
Snorting, I headed for the door. “So do I, Grayson. So. Do. I.” The woman had managed to slip inside the darkness, to peel away my armor instead of the other way around.
She’d become important to me. Not just because of the value of who she was but because of what she’d brought to my life.
The luscious woman with the caustic mouth was my salvation.
I would do everything in my power to keep her safe.
And mine.
CHAPTER24
Suzannah
I always feel like someone is watching me…
The words to the song from eons ago were replaying in the back of my mind. There was no reason why. As usual, Kendrick had been careful after leaving the party, glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds, paying attention to every single vehicle on the road as if one of my father’s security guards had been sent to follow us. He knew where we were staying. I hadn’t bothered to try to hide the fact. Why should I?
My father was many things, including disrespectful to his children, but hiring a thug? Not a chance. However, as I sat with my feet curled under me, enjoying the full moon, bright stars, and the sound of the trickling water in the lap pool, creepy crawlies continued to dance down both arms.
Maybe the fact my lover, aka the devil I’d made a deal with, was out doing God knew what was the reason for my insecure feelings. After our return, he’d taken a single phone call, talking in a hushed voice. Then he’d programmed in his phone number on my phone, told me in no uncertain terms to keep the door locked and remain inside the room. He’d also mentioned he had one of his men stationed outside, walking the perimeter of the hotel. I told him he was nuts. He laughed.
I snarled at him.
He’d swatted my behind.
Then he’d grabbed several magazines of ammunition from one of his duffle bags, sliding them into his jacket pocket before leaving.
But not before telling me what he would do to my body after his return. His filthy remarks had kept the fire burning even now, lurid thoughts also keeping a smile on my face.
God. I craved the man more than I had any other in my entire life. How was that possible?
He was out killing someone, doing a job. Being an assassin. I knew it.
And I wasn’t entirely certain how I felt about it either.
On one hand, everything about the man was exciting, so much so as I sat with a glass of wine in my hand, wishing upon the twinkling stars, at least fifty percent of them had to do with the man and our future.
What future?
What good would come out of a union forged in the need for revenge? Morgan would remind me once again that the best lovers were the ones who started out as enemies. Rough sex equaled passion. She was right as usual, but that wouldn’t make our relationship last beyond the honeymoon phase.
Or could it?
Just thinking about getting and staying married to him made me anxious, so much so I continued to chew on my inner cheek until I tasted blood. Ugh. I took a sip of wine, unfurling my legs and easing off the comfy chair. I’d changed into a little dress I’d brought with me, no longer the belle of the ball I’d felt like at my brother’s engagement party. I bit back a laugh. I’d stolen the spotlight from him, although that hadn’t been my intention. Somehow Kendrick had orchestrated the announcement.
I’d apologized to Ashley, but she reminded me of a Georgia peach, still succulent and sweet at all times, refusing to let anyone or anything get her down. She’d squealed as she’d done before, insisting that when I came to visit her the next day, she’d share her issues of whatever bridal magazine she’d been glancing through.
As if I hadn’t been married before.
Granted, doing the deed at the justice of the peace was entirely different than the big, fancy glorious wedding she was having. I’d told myself I’d never wanted that. Maybe I’d lied to myself a little bit.
But I was almost thirty years old. It was time to shove aside fairytales and thoughts of heroes on huge thoroughbreds rushing to save the day. Wasn’t it? Oh, my God. Maybe Ashley’s sparkling happiness was rubbing off on me.
