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Then she releases me and takes a step back, across the threshold and out the door.
Behind her shoulder, the bodyguard is staring daggers at me.
Kayla just flashes me a grin, winks, and then saunters away.
My heart slams against my ribs as I stare after her.
Fuck, I think I love this girl.
No, I don’t think I love her. I love her. I love Kayla Ashford so fucking much that I would burn the world down for her.
Standing there, I watch the love of my fucking life disappear as the ill-tempered bodyguard drives her away.
It takes me another few seconds to compose myself after that. Dragging in a deep breath, I rake a hand through my hair and remind myself that she’s not gone. That this is just temporary.
Then I at last close the door.
When I turn around, my brothers are no longer standing there. Instead, I can hear faint clinking sounds from inside the kitchen. I walk towards it.
Someone has cleared all the empty bottles and glasses from the countertops. I approach the kitchen island that Eli, Kaden, and Rico are once more standing around. Kaden slides a glass of water towards me. It stops right before the edge. I pick it up and drink half of it in one go before setting it down again.
Then panic slams into me. I jerk upright and whip my head towards where Kayla is already gone. “Fuck! I forgot to get her new phone number.”
“Calm down,” Kaden says. “I already have it.”
Spinning back around, I stare at him with raised eyebrows. “Why do you have her phone number?”
He holds my gaze, a knowing look in his dark eyes, and raises an eyebrow at me. “Who do you think told her where you live?”
It takes a few seconds for his words to register. Then understanding trickles through me. I blink, stunned. “Oh.”
For a while, no one says anything.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rico eventually asks into the suddenly pressing silence.
There is no accusation in his tone. Instead, he sounds almost a little… hurt.
It makes pain and guilt worm their way through my chest.
Setting the bat down, I drag a hand through my hair and lift one shoulder in a self-conscious shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” Eli says.
I snap my gaze up to his face.
Anger flickers in his eyes, and the scar down his brow tightens as he scowls at me. “You got fired, Dad threatened to kill you and sent you back to Blackwater, and you didn’t even tell us. We had to find out from him.”
“I just?—”
“And you’ve spent the past five years spiraling out of control because you don’t want to be a hitman, and you didn’t tell us that either.”
“That had nothing to do with you,” I try to protest.
“Shut up,” he snaps. Lightning now flashes in his eyes that are always lined with a hint of insanity. “Do you even realize how much of our shit you’ve had to deal with over the years? And during all that time, you’ve apparently been carrying around your own shit by yourself. For years. Without telling us.” His eyes are full of command as he stares me down. “Why?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He slams his hand down on the counter hard enough to make my glass jump. “Just fucking talk to us!”
