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“You faked making love?” His eyes burn with danger. But worse, so much worse: betrayal. “That was fake too?”
Fat tears roll along my cheeks and down to coat my lips. “No.”
“Your heart?” He shoves his foot down harder when Savannah tries to move. “Fake?”
Words stop in my windpipe. Emotion, clogging me up and stealing the breath from my lungs. But I shake my head. “No.”
“You tried to tell me.” He releases my arm, but slides his hand up tomy neck. It could look like a threat to anyone on the outside looking in. But it doesn’tfeellike one. “Last night at dinner, when we talked about the women. And the night before,” he realizes, “when it was just the two of us.”
“I did a bad thing.” I blink to clear my eyes. These might be the last moments I get with him. The last time I get to look into his eyes. To feel his hands on my skin. His love, momentarily at least, mine to covet. “I did this. And I’m sorry.”
“You tried to save me?”
“Lix?” Micah crouches in front of Pastore and tilts his head to the side as the older man weeps on the floor. “He’s leaking all over the place. What do you wanna do?”
Instead of answering, he brings his perfect stare back to mine. “Your love… fake?”
I choke out a cry of anguish and shake my head. “No. I can’t breathe without you, either.”
“The oxygen in my lungs.” He draws me closer and forces me onto the tips of my toes. “Is it weird, since you’re Cato’s aunt? Since he’s my brother and all that shit?”
“No.” Relieved laughter and tears bubble up in my chest. “It’s not weird.”
“It’sgonnabe weird, when Cato finds out he was hitting on his aunt,” Micah grumbles. But he glances up to the side and studies me. “We heard your whole discussion with them.” He winks. Just once. Just a single speck in time. And still, he melts my heart and leaves me an emotional mess. “You were brave enough to step in front of my brother and risk the bullet intended for him.”
“And crazy enough to walk into the enemy’s home,” Felix adds, drawing my focus back his way. “Dancing with the devil, Ms. Cannon.” He pulls me closer and slams his lips to mine, sucking the oxygen from my lungs and keeping it all for himself. His hands bruise, and his tongue dances. “Lucky for you, I prefer my women crazy and brave.”
“Felix…” Micah growls. “Pastore?”
“Yeah.” He releases my throat and reaches around to his back pocket. Taking out his phone, he swipes the screen and hits dial on a name I don’t see. But then he brings the device to his ear and waits a beat. “Mr.Cordoza?” His lips peel into a wide, slightly insane smirk. “Emilio Pastore has just assaulted Christabelle Cannon. He pulled a gun on my brother.Again.And he threatened my life.”
He silences for a moment, listening to whatever Estefan Cordoza has to say, before adding, “Our truce was built upon the agreement he would leave me and mine the fuck alone. He broke our truce. So now I’m asking for your blessing to take out the trash and reinstate peace in your city. For as long as Pastore and I are both alive, there cannot be harmony.”
“No…” Pastore sobs, letting out a pig-squeal when Micah shoves his face into the tile. “Please, no.”
“Yes, Mr. Cordoza.” Felix nods. “You have my word.” Then he looks to Pastore. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Pulling the phone from his ear and ending his call, he looks to his brother and orders, “Get him up, put him in the car. We’re taking him home and dealing with this tonight.”
“No!” Pastore screams when Micah follows his brother’s orders and yanks him to his feet. “I’ll stop! I’ll leave the city! I swear.”
“You came to me,” Felix murmurs, his words for me, not for Pastore, “believing me to be a bad man.”
“I’m sorr?—”
He shakes his head and presses a fast kiss to the center of my lips. “I’m gonna show you what kind of man I am, Darling. It might reinforce what you already thought you knew about me. It might make you hate me. But you’ll know I do these things to protect the people I love.” He pinches my chin and draws me in until our foreheads touch. “I willneverstop protecting the people I love.”
“What about her?” Micah questions, nudging his chin toward a still-splayed Savannah.
Felix inches away from me to glare down at the woman whose face already swells with bruising. Blood coats her cheeks, her teeth. Mascara stains her skin. Hatred makes her horribly ugly.
Felix considers for a moment, his eyes burning. His mind, I know, spinning with options. He pities her. He loves her—or at least, he loves the girl he’s spent his life trying to help.
Finally, he lifts his foot off Savannah’s arm and wraps his over myshoulders as she scrambles to her feet. Snot dribbles to the top of her lips, tears sprinting from her too-big eyes.
“Run, Savannah.” He takes on a deep, James Earl Jones-type of tone, and sneers. “Run far away. Don’t come near me again.” Then he steps forward, scaring the woman back until she crashes into the wall and lets out a huff of surprise.
“If you hurt, communicate with, or write a story about my family ever again, or in any way infringe upon our lives, I’ll bury you in the fuckin orchard myself. I’ll rip your voice box out and shove it inside your cunt. Now go.” He flicks his wrist in dismissal. “I never want to see your face again.”
