I lost the one woman I’ve felt this strongly for.
She’s drowning.
She’s scared.
She’s going to disappear.
She’s not far.
My fingers ball into fists at my sides as I listen to the waves crash along the boat. It’s so quiet—deathly.
The hairs on my arms rise, and I start to sway.
She’ll be dead in a minute. It’ll be fine.
This will be something I’ll take to the grave. I don’t want to cause my boys any more stress than they’re already going through.
I did this for them.
And Judah.
What are you doing? Torin, what the fuck? This is Emilio-type bullshit. This is Wildes behavior.
I fight the words in my head. I’m not a Wildes. Ramsey doesn’t have my best interest at heart. Reeve is in love with her. Cairo would beat my entire ass. Wallace will hire every single person in South Shore to hunt her down.
It’s going to fall on me eventually.
Doesn’t matter now, she’s dead.
Dead.
The word sinks into my veins like poison. My heart thrashes against my ribcage, demanding to go back to her.
“What do you want, Pretty Boy?”
I remember her in that blue dress that sinfully cupped her ass at that dinner. Sitting across from her and not fucking her in public on the table was hard as fuck. I had to get her alone for two seconds, so I pulled a Reeve and wrote her a note.
YOU LOOK PRETTY TODAY. I LIKE YOU IN BLUE.
MEN’S BATHROOM, FIVE MINUTES.
That dress was an offense against God. But I would’ve danced with the devil every night just to be around her.
“Haven’t I made that known yet?”
“Why?” she asks suspiciously.
“Because, contrary to your belief, I’ve wanted you for years. You might think it’s just sex…but it’s so much more than that, Wildfire. You fit me. You get me. I like everything about you and even the parts that piss me off.”
“That’s sounding a little too obsessive for me.”
“Might be,” I reply. “But I guarantee I’d treat you better than your last.”
Memories of her with Matteo flood my brain. I remember the fear in her eyes.
I saw it.
I felt her shake against me when she’d escape Matteo just to see me.