Page 119 of Freckles

“Go on? No, that’s it. I tried to hire a hitman.”

His eyes capture mine, searching them like he’s looking for an answer. Then he smiles again, expression teasing. “Oh, that’s so sweet. You were willing to spend your hard-earned money on me?”

I push against his chest. “It’s not a joke.”

“It’s also not a surprise. We’re talking the same day you stabbed me, yeah?” He taps the tip of my nose. “Unless this is a prelude to pulling out another knife, we’re both past that point, aren’t we?”

The jocularity throws me off guard. He obviously doesn’t understand, and I try again. “The man’s in a rival gang or something. He said if I didn’t give him the gate code and a keycard to the manor house, he’d turn the recording over to your uncle.”

Kincaid goes very still, then steps back, his good humour gone. “Why did he want access to our house?”

“For a USB stick. He said it belonged to him, but someone stole it. He was going to break in and retrieve it from the safe.”

“And you gave him the information when?”

His words are so loud, I recoil. “I didn’t. I ran.”

“Don’t be afraid.” He puts his hand around my neck, tugging me close again. “Tell me the truth.” His voice is low and urgent. “Whatever you gave him, you must be straight with me now, otherwise I can’t help you.”

“I’m not lying. I don’t even know the code.”

His eyes drill into mine, merciless as they strip me bare. My stomach twists into so many knots, I might never get them untangled. Then the stiffness in his shoulders eases. “For god’s sake. You really had me worried there.” His brow creases again. “But I don’t understand. What’s the problem?”

“I tried to have you killed, and a rival gang has the recording to prove it. The moment he gives it to your uncle, I’m dead.”

Kincaid snorts. “If he gives it to my uncle,he’sdead. Uncle Lance hates blackmail, and he appreciates threats against family even less.” He unpins my fringe, tidying my wet hair, then cups my face. “Is that really the reason?”

“Yes, but I… I don’t think I’ve explained it right.”

“You explained it just fine.” He bends down until his forehead rests against mine, his knuckles running up and down my throat. “People try stuff all the time and I should’ve warned you. They pressure guards, associates, repairmen. Anyone who goes in or out of our property is a target and our enemies will do anything to gain advantage. You can’t trust anyone.

“If you did give him information, then I’d have an uphill battle to convince my uncle, but you didn’t.” He bumps his nose against mine. “No one gives a shit about a little attempted murder between friends.”

He might have ended in a joke, but his earlier words reveal a horrible truth. “That sounds lonely.”

He shrugs. “From the outside maybe… but you’re not on the outside. You’re on the inside where it’s cosy and warm. You’re with me.”

Kincaid wraps his arms around me, his heartbeat thumping loud enough to keep time.

“I’m sorry I ran without talking to you. Especially since I know how awful it is to be abandoned by the people who love you.”

His arms squeeze tighter. “You love me?” When he pulls back, there’s a tender smile on his face, and my chest swells with expectation. He nods at the bathroom and pats my arse to hurry me along. “Better get in the shower, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

I ignore the bump of disappointment. “You think we’ll still be in time for the dance?”

“If not, there’s still the afterparty.”

I have my hand on the connecting door when he whispers, “And I love you, too.”

EPILOGUE

Six monthslater

KINCAID

The house in the outer suburbs of Sydney is a modest affair. A two-bedroom bungalow set back from the street, with a subdivided property tucked in behind.

I step back from the door after knocking, waiting for the occupant to answer, hoping Tyson’s information is as good as ever.

---