Page 28 of Chaos Kills

And definitely for Torin.

The number of times I have told this woman to stay away is monotonous at this point. She doesn’t listen and won’t until she’s dead.

Which can’t be on any of our watches.

If Levi Wallace wasn’t planning on murdering each and every single one of us already, he’d drop a nuclear bomb just to make sure the job was done if Bay ended up dead.

This isn’t the time for solo missions of reconciliation. Bay got lucky tonight and so did I.

But at this rate, we won’t again.

“Let me get you home.”

Bay jumps about a foot in the air and rounds on me like she’s ready to fuck shit up.

Meanwhile, I’m leaning against the wall and waiting for her to bitch and complain about how I scared her.

“What thehell?” she spits out, palming her chest. “Do you know anything about not doing that shit to people?”

“Obviously not.” I push off the drywall. “Let’s go, Little Terror.”

“What are you doing?” she asks as I pass her and stride for the front door.

“Driving you home.”

“I can drive myself.”

“I’ve seen.”

“I don’t need you to drive me home. I brought my own car.”

I round on her, almost having her bump into me in the process. How a woman can always smell like something different is astounding.

She smells like Torin a bit, cedar and minty, but there’s also a hint of…rust?

“Whose car did you bring?” I solicit evenly, watching her part her lips before I cut in with, “Don’t tell me it’s Wallace’s.”

“I’m reckless, not stupid.”

I tsk. “You sure about that? Because you just broke into my house.”

Bay lifts her shoulders as if that’s like taking a lengthy stroll through the park past her curfew. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

As much as I would like to appreciate that she has that much confidence in me, there’s a problem. She’s being accused of first-degree murder in the room she just left.

Torin is either going to get over this, or he’s going to kill her.

And the latter means going to war with not only South Shore, but The Landings. Emilio will not take into consideration that he supported Torin throughout the years and half-assed raised the asshole.

He’ll see that his stepson murdered his only daughter.

Period.

“But Torin would,” I retort before she tsks, sounding too confident in the palpability of that never happening. She’s delusional as fuck. “Don’t do it again.”

“Yes, King Black of Wharf Bay. My ratchet ass won’t step foot in your palace ever again.”

It has nothing to do with that. She knows it, I know it. She’s just being a pain in the fucking ass.

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