Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“This again? Really? In case you’ve forgotten who you married, I’m pretty capable of protecting myself.”
“You’re human, Lilah, as we both found out that night on the beach, and neither one of us has ever fully gotten over it.”
There’s a flash in my mind of that night, of that man on top of me, of my relief when Kane pulled him off me. I shove the image away and focus on what matters right here, in this moment. Even though it proved wrong, Kane thought the cartel came after me. I was too fucked up at the time to process that as meaning he thought his father came after me.
Instead, it was the Society, with my own father’s support.
But that changed me, made me harder and stronger.
“I’m not the same person I was back then,” I say, thinking of my own vow to never, ever be that weak again. “You know this.”
“You’re my wife, Lilah,” he says, as if that is all the explanation he needs for worrying, his voice raw with emotion as he moves toward me, and me him.
We collide and I never have the chance to tell him I’m five minutes from walking out the door before his mouth is on my mouth. Kane is unleashed right now, hellbent on burying whatever is messing with his head in me. I end up against the wall, his big body pressed to mine, his hands are all over me.
I try to find some semblance of logic. “Kane,” I pant out, my hands on his shoulders. “I have to go to—”
His mouth is back on my mouth, and that’s it. To hell with Washington. That decision leads to the next obvious necessity. My pants are tugged and shoved until they’re gone, and then it’s a matter of seconds before he’s buried inside me. It’s a hard, fast, wicked ride and when it’s over, we’re on the ground, and he hasn’t even taken his jacket off. Kane’s against the wall, I’m on top of him, and he couldn’t be more of a captive audience.
I lean back, hands on his shoulders, and meet his stare. “Rich means nothing to me.”
“I know that, but he doesn’t. He will never accept that, Lilah, and calling him stirred up the fire in him again. And if you’re not careful, he’s going to put his nose in a place it shouldn’t be and end up dead.”
“Because you’re going to kill him?”
“If it’s me and you or him? I’ll do whatever the fuck I have to do. Don’t call him again. You’re going to get him killed.” The look in Kane’s eye when he makes that statement tells me he won’t be sorry if that happens. “Get him out of our lives and do it now. For his own good. And ours.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kane’s jealousy over Rich is a poison pill that could too easily turn deadly. “I’ll get rid of him,” I promise.
“Good decision, bella,” Kane says, his voice razor-sharp. “And do so definitively this time.”
My cellphone rings, cutting through Kane’s harshness over Rich, but just barely. I roll off him and snap it up to eye the caller ID.
It’s Adams, of course, and aside from how irritated I am over the interruption, I haven’t even had time to process just how done with my badge I’m feeling right now. I answer the call, “I need a few minutes. If you can’t wait, leave me and I’ll meet you in Washington. And feel free to fire me.” I hang up and glance over at Kane, my arrogant, intense, ridiculously jealous, and highly unapproachable husband by other people’s standards, who is presently on the floor, just to be with me.
He’d do anything for me, and sometimes that means he hides what he should not hide. “What aren’t you telling me, Kane?”
“I’m not keeping secrets,” he says, but he cuts his gaze, his jaw sharpening before he pushes to his feet and then stands above me, offering me his hand. I press my hand to his and he helps me to my feet, and while that connection he’s intentionally created says we are one, there is tension between us again, a thickness to the air that makes it hard to believe.
“Why are you going to Washington?” he asks as I finish pulling myself back together.
“I’m not done talking about whatever you’re not talking about, so we’re circling back. It’s not public, but the director of the DOD was assassinated. I don’t know details, just that they want me in Washington. The interim FBI director is downstairs waiting on me to catch a chopper. It’s a long story but he’s taking over Murphy’s responsibilities along with the entire FBI. I have to go pack.” I hurry toward the stairs and call over my shoulder, “I’m going to try to come home tonight, but just in case I can’t, I need stuff.”