Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“You got that right, because you drink it neat, you animal.”
Nope, couldn’t stand the taste. I jumped to my feet and headed for the bar. “All right, so, uh… I guess it’s safe to say you’re not a fan of Vincente Blanco.”
Maybe the distance between us was good for this next part.
He lifted a brow as he drank from his gross whiskey. “You mean because he slit her throat in front of everyone and laughed about it?”
I flinched and poured extra rum. Extra, extra.
“He’s off-limits for this operation,” I admitted.
The calculating Adrien was back. He didn’t like where this was going. I could tell.
“I can’t see a scenario in which I’d get the pleasure of killing him, but give me one good reason.”
“He’s paying for everything, Adrien.” I sat back down with my feet in the pool and set the drink next to me. “He’s our funder.”
He widened his eyes in disbelief and set his glass down too. “Tell me you’re not serious.”
“We didn’t have a choice!” I would defend Elliott on this matter for as long as it fucking took. “Twenty guys rolled up to my boss’s place—they killed two innocent men. My best friend, for the fucking record. Kidnapped Javier’s wife, Elliott’s niece, and River and Reese’s partner. Do you think we give a shit about who provides us with money to go save Blake, Marisa, and Shay? Without Vincente’s money, without his intel, we wouldn’t be in Europe right now. We’d be kicking in doors at random warehouses, hoping we got lucky.”
Adrien looked away from me, definitely not happy, but he had to fucking see, right? It wasn’t like we were calling Vincente a buddy. He was using us to bring down Carillo; we were using him for our own reasons.
“It’s the same with you and Carillo.” I tried to reason with him. “You don’t want him dead right now, yeah? You’re protecting the man who killed two of our people and kidnapped three. How’s this different? We don’t care what happens after, but right now, we need Vincente.”
“Yeah, I—” He gnashed his teeth, gaze fixed on the water, and gestured vaguely for me to stop. He got it. “I hear you. I understand—I just…I keep seeing her face. That silent plea in her eyes, when blood was pouring from her throat…and I couldn’t do anything.”
Fuck. “Hey. Can you come over here?”
He released a breath and moved closer, but he wouldn’t make eye contact.
Once he was within reach, I pulled him to me and trapped him between my knees.
I cupped his face and brushed away some waterdrops from his cheeks. “When this is over, you want me to kill him for you? ’Cause I will. Guns fuckin’ blazin’ and all.”
He huffed a silent chuckle and flicked me a quick half scowl, half smile.
I needed him in higher spirits.
He let out a breath as some of the tension left his shoulders.
I just…stared. While he seemed to look at my ink, I wanted to commit every inch of his face to memory. Like the dark scruff that glinted silver here and there. The faint wrinkles at his eyes. Those eyes. Framed by black eyelashes. He had to be the sexiest man I’d ever seen. Christ. He was so handsome.
I could only imagine the genuine grin he’d wear when he was reunited with his son. When this case was finally over and he could be the father he wanted to be. He’d go back to having his long breakfasts in his dad’s backyard, just the three of them.
I could hear echoes of laughter and realized I wanted to see him there. Not necessarily at his pop’s place—although, there too—but everywhere. Would he let me help him make dinner, or was he the bossy type who would banish me to the sidelines? Would he lecture me about wine and smoky whiskey?
In a gut-tightening rush of fantasies, I suddenly envisioned going to restaurants with him. Or pizza and a movie. Bringing him to dinner at Roe and Jake’s house, barbecues, meeting his son, introducing Adrien to my family in New York, see who he’d get along with the most, lazy mornings in bed—maybe he could read the paper to me and help me with the crossword puzzle, ’cause I liked to practice difficult words.
When he lifted his gaze to meet mine, part of me wanted to run away. Holy fuck, this wasn’t me. Whereas the other part of me wanted to get sucked in because this feeling was thrilling and brand-new and… I was a magnet for him. Even when he drove me fucking crazy, I wanted to get closer.
Close felt right. Close calmed me down.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
I brushed my fingertips over his stubbly scruff. “Like what?”
“Like I mean something to you.”
I let my hands fall to my lap, and I felt my brows knit together. “But you do. I’m literally at that point where I either run for the hills or pretend I’m hooked, and the only reason I wanna run away right now is because my feelings terrify me just a bit.” I let out a huff, ’cause it was a little annoying, to be honest. The flicker of soft amusement in Adrien’s eyes didn’t help. “I never see the future, Adrien. My old man always said that when he met Mom, he started seeing the future—and I think…I think I know what he meant by that now. I’m seeing, like, dates and shit. Introducing you to my family and movie nights with pizza. The fuck is up with that?”