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I suppose that's fitting since it began in zip-ties and intimidation. Dimitri and Uncle Dante only sent me here to finish high school because one of the cartels tried to kidnap me. My time here was only ever meant to be temporary. But life without the constant threat of violence hanging over my head is addictive. I'm tired of spending my life surrounded by bodyguards, afraid I'll be kidnapped or killed by one of the cartels. I'm tired of being overprotected because of what my family does.
Not that any of that matters now. I'm a criminal too. I have a feeling Dimitri and Uncle Dante won't be very happy to hear about this new addition to my resume. They aren't ashamed of who they are and what they do, but they've always wanted something different for me. The apple still lands in the apple orchard though, right?
"You've been sleeping in my bed for the last week," Jude says again.
"Yes," I admit. There's no point in lying now. I'm already caught.
"Why?"
Okay, maybe there is a point in lying now.
"You weren't using it," I whisper. It's partially true without being anywhere close to the whole truth. Not even the jaws of life could pry that out of me right now. Telling this man that I'm obsessively in love with him is the last thing I want to do. Adding stalking to the list of criminal charges he's going to file against me isn't appealing.
"Devin, baby doll," he growls, losing patience. "Why the fuck have you been sleeping in my bed for the last week? You live with your great aunt."
"I ran away."
That pulls him up short. He blinks those blue, blue eyes at me in consternation.
"I'd rather not drag the MC into this," I say, trying to pull free of his grasp, which only has him pulling me closer. At this point, I'm practically in his lap. He smells like amber and cedar, the base notes in expensive cologne that linger long after he leaves the room. It's an intoxicating combination. One that drives me crazy.
"Too bad," he says, not giving an inch. "Start talking."
"It's just family drama."
"Bullshit."
I huff at him.
"You quit your job, ran away, and have been committing residential burglary for a week straight. That's more than family drama, baby doll," he growls, eyes narrowed on me. "Start talking."
"It's a long story," I hedge.
"I've got time." He seems amused. "It's just me and you."
"It is?" I peer toward the door. "Really? Where is everyone?"
"On a run."
"It's midnight."
"Not that kind of run," he says, and he's definitely amused now.
"I don't understand."
"It's a poker run, baby doll. It's when a bunch of a bikers get together to raise money for charity by playing poker," he explains.
"Oh. And they run?" I try to work out the mechanics, but it seems exhausting to me.
"No, they ride." He chuckles. "There are different stops along the way where they draw cards. At the end, whoever has the best hand wins."
"Cool," I whisper, adding this to the list of things I want to do.
"Stop stalling and start talking, Devin."
"My brother and uncle are in town looking for me. They want to take me back to Houston, but I don't want to go, so I left before they got here. Now, I'm waiting for them to get tired of looking for me and go back to Houston."
"You couldn't just tell them you don't want to go?" He quirks a brow at me.
