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I’ve spent a lifetime trying to repair the damage. Provided shade as he dug his grave, convincing myself I was helping. That he’d eventually look up and realize why he went so long without a sunburn.
Or maybe it’s because, deep down, part of me still hopes I can love him to recovery. That if I don’t give up on him, he won’t give up on life. On himself. I’m wrong, of course. So unbelievably fucking wrong. Some people just don’t want to be saved.
“You’re hardly in a position to be negotiating,” he says, voice thick. “Should I get on my knees then?” His free hand finds the button of my jeans, pushing it through the loop. Hooking a thumb in the waist, he gives a small shake of his head. “I’d much rather be on mine.”
“Which is why we should go over some talking points, if you want this job. To… soften you.” I snort. “Because I’m a bitch?” She smiles. “An acquired taste, not for the faint of heart.”
Maybe the closer to the belly of the beast I get, the more I’ll uncover. If he doesn’t eat me alive first.
I’m still not sure why he needed to live with the girl in the first place, given their entire relationship was fake from the start, but I suppose it’d have been harder for him to keep an eye on her otherwise.
“And the special project I asked you to look into?” Marshall sighs. “I feel weird about this one, Wolfe. She’s my sister’s age, younger even.” Blue hair and blood-red lips flash across my vision. “I don’t care. I want to know everything about her.” That way, I can keep her.
Every fiber of my being screams to march over and take her in my arms. Shield her from their scrutiny and claim her in front of them so they’d know not to fucking look or breathe in her direction.
“I’m afraid I must reject your resignation. There’s far too much at stake, and you don’t even know the half of it. You’ll continue to work for me, where I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you don’t get any ideas.”
Wolves protect their packs, and as such, Wolfe men are loyal to a fault.
He relents after what feels like an eternity, and then I hear the unmistakable sound of Oxfords thumping across the floor and the soft creak of hinges as a door opens. “I’ll be back after a while to see how you’re feeling. Try not to tax your brain too much, and for the love of everything bloody holy, don’t do anything stupid.”
“If Marshall bothers you that much, I’ll find another place for him to stay.” I feel her look up at me. “Why would you do that? He’s your friend.” Pressing my lips together, I don’t reply because what am I supposed to tell her? That I’m completely enamored by her existence and there probably aren’t any lengths I wouldn’t go to, to make sure she’s comfortable? Right, I’m sure that wouldn’t terrify her. So I don’t say anything at all, keeping the truth close to my heart, where she can’t see it.
Although it’s not so much snooping as it is retrieving stolen property, but then he’d make me explain what’s in the folder, and I’m not really interested in involving Alistair into that part of my life. Sexually, fine. If he wants to make me come, that’s his prerogative. I’m not going to complain. But letting him know my secrets? Hard pass.
He takes a step closer, and I scoot back one on a reflex. When he smirks, I curse silently.
If he chases when he thinks I’ve run, I’m not sure I want to know what he’d do if he thinks I’ve been taken.
Every fiber of my being screams at me to bust the door down. Eliminate the partition separating us and then remove every door in the house so I’m not kept from her again.
Proving that, while still a thief, she isn’t stealing to be gluttonous. She’s only taking what she needs, and so I began leaving the safe open and counting the stash each night, so the next day, I’d know if she’d taken any. Not because I wanted to catch her in the act necessarily, but because it felt good that she was using me for help even if she thought she was hurting me. She could hurt me all she wants. I would still want to take care of her.
Can I even see myself with Alistair long-term? He’s a murderer. Worse than that, a politician.
Maybe that’s what you need for happiness to take root—not for someone to offer it on some silver platter, but for them to provide the soil and space for it to grow.
I brought Cora into my life. Forced her to stay within the confines I created, under the guise of keeping her safe, yet I’m the one putting her in the direct line of danger—again.
