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With a sigh, Murphy carries on. “He can drive himself and Ms. Winterbourne up the Kendal way with one of the escorts. We’ll go back down and round to follow the lake.”

“And the guys?” Christopher sounds anything but sold on this idea. I feel his worry seep through me.

“They’ll meet up at the Kendal crossroads with their escorts and drive across to the estate.” Standing back from the door, Murphy waits to see what Christopher proceeds to do with his advice. “That way if we need to take different measures to lose the stragglers, they’re all together. We’re in no way outnumbered.”

Out of the corner of my eyes, I can make out Freddie taking care of Fleur. She looks rough as hell. Her hair is sticking to her face despite the bitter cold. The way in which he’s standing helplessly watching her gather herself makes my heart ache.

He’s got that torn look in his eyes where he’s debating whether or not to get closer. To do more. Fighting himself not to care more than he thinks he should.

Thing is, though, in spite of his rough and taunting exterior, there’s a tragically broken heart that’s desperate to save itself. So weary of being lost—just like his missing girl.

Christopher gets out of the car. I follow suit, still taking in the scene playing out in front of me.

Handing Fleur a fresh bottle of water, Freddie picks her up and sits her back in the Range. Brushing his hair back, he walks to the front of the car, his boots kicking up flurries of ice as he toe-punts the wheel with gritted teeth. Pushing the sleeves of his black sweatshirt to his elbows, he shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear it.

He’s having a meltdown, and although I know he hates people getting into his business, I have to give him some support. He’s good at hiding his hurt and the root of his demons, but once you know, it’s easy to see his struggle.

“Fleur looks like she could do without all the winding. Why don’t you take her with you? I can go with Freddie.”

“Absolutely not.” There’s no room for argument in Christopher’s sharp reply. The matter-of-fact tone pisses me off as it takes my choice away. I know I could fight him on it and go against his order, but the truth is that I’m too fucking tired to argue. We’ve done enough of it, and not only do I not have it in me to carry on, but I also want to make something easy for him.

Life has been hard enough. It’s been cruel and barbaric.

Christopher rounds the car and takes my hand, pulling me toward the Black Defender blocking the Merc behind Murphy’s Range. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. Besides, we have no idea what those cunts want. If they come near you…I’ll kill them all. I want that pleasure all to myself.”

“Christopher…”

“You’re mine,” he states with unrefined, brutish intensity as he pulls me to his side and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “To love and protect. To live and die for. To save and to kill for. I’m not letting you walk away from me again.”

I swallow the air climbing up my throat, the breathy groan that vibrates up my chest.

Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking it, but I’m burning and yearning for all that severity and fierceness to be exercised on me. I want to feel the fervour of the need steeling him coursing through me.

My mind gets lost in thoughts and memories of the way he used my body to ground himself. The way his rough, unforgiving touches brought me a pleasure so deep and wild that the mere thought is enough to bring the bite of his rough caresses back to life. My thighs rub together at the picture of his marks on my tender flesh. Always my thighs.

I don’t know what it is about that part of my body, but a simple touch is enough to make me fall to my knees and beg for more. He knows it too.

“I can fucking hear you,” he growls, squeezing me so tight to his body that it feels like mine might merge with his. “Get in the car.”

Checking Freddie is okay, I follow his instruction. It would probably be better if he had some alone time to settle his thoughts. I know Freddie well enough to know that when he gets into one of his slumps, he likes to be left to his own devices.

“What are you doing?” Christopher opens my car door again. He told me to get in, so I did. I got in the driver’s seat. “Are you purposefully trying to get a rise out of me?”

When I don’t reply because I’m still trying to dampen the heat between my thighs, he says, “Move over.”

The leather still smells fresh and new as Christopher stands on the foot sill, his arms pushing under me with a shove, and as he climbs into the car, he lifts me over the centre console, depositing me in the passenger seat.

Freddie gets into his Merc and without delay backs out of the huddle of armoured vehicles before speeding off.

“He found another lead.” Christopher sighs, his hand stroking the supple perforated leather of the steering wheel before following Murphy’s quick U-turn. “He thinks she’s somewhere in Eastern Europe. He can’t pinpoint.”

“We’ve been here before.”

“I know.”

“What do you think?” I ask, settling into the warm leather. The heated seat moulds to my body as I sink into its buttery softness.

“Freddie is a law unto himself. What I think doesn’t matter. He doesn’t listen to anybody once he gets an idea in his head.”

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