“Idon’t even haveme, Matthew. I’m not someone anyone can rely on. I’ve made too many mistakes. I’ve hurt everyone I know. Basing your future on me isn’t good for either of us. You need to choose your family.”
“I choose both.”
She shakes her head. “You can’t.”
“Like hell,” I growl. “I. Choose. Both.And I get what I fucking want,la mia stella polare. So don’t think I can’t figure this out, because I will. You’re not walking away. I’m not letting you go. I know this is a hard fucking crossroad, but we’ll find an outcome that works for us. Trust me.”
She glances away.
I drag her close and press my lips to her temple. “Trust me. Okay?”
She sighs and nods as she nestles into me, her palms resting against my waist, her hips leaning into mine.
I hug her to my chest, resenting the fact that she’s trying to emotionally slip away while still in my arms. She’s giving up too easily when I’m sure I can figure this out.
My resources are unlimited. My contacts extensive. My determination lethal.
“Our agreement hasn’t changed,mia dea,” I murmur into her hair. “Emmanuel will die and we’ll be the cause.”
Her exhale is long. Ragged. “I need to lie down for a while. I’m getting a headache and I can’t think straight.”
If she’s lying, it doesn’t matter. We both need space to contemplate our next move. Just as long as that move is together, I don’t give a shit where she draws her conclusion.
“I’ll make sure the house remains quiet.” I kiss her temple and drop my arms to my sides, fucking despising Emmanuel more than ever as she walks away without a backward glance.
I return to the kitchen, grab a glass of water, and Tylenol from the first aid kit sitting on the counter, then follow her.
She’s in the bathroom when I enter her room, the door closed, the faucet running.
I place my offering on the bedside table and continue downstairs to Bishop’s room, stopping at the threshold.
He stands with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the wooden chair at the end of his bed, electrical tape littering the floor around it.
“It’s a good thing we quit working for Lorenzo when we did.” I lean against the doorjamb, despising how far we’ve fallen. “We became complacent too damn quick.”
His lips thin. “Then why does it feel like you’re worming your way back in?”
“It’s temporary.”
“Is it, though?” He raises a brow. “First, there’s your agreement with Cole. Then the promise to kill Emmanuel. Now, you’re contemplating playing Mr. Fix-It with your brothers’ lives, or have you already committed to helping them?”
“I haven’t decided.”
He scoffs, his smile vindictive. “Like hell you haven’t. You just don’t want to admit it because you know it’s a fucking mistake.”
“You need to find a new catch phrase. The ‘mistake’ lecture is getting old.”
“I guess that means you’re right on cue to tell me I can walk whenever I feel like it.” He turns to me. “But I swear to God, if you say that one more time, I’ll kill you myself. I’m sick of being insulted, especially since I’m the only one who’s ever had your back.”
“What part of this pisses you off?” I stroll toward him. “Is it Layla gaining all my attention? Do you resent her?”
“Your attention is the last thing I need, asshole, so why would I fucking resent her?”
“If it’s not resentment, then what is it?”
“How I feel about her doesn’t matter when she’s going to be dead soon. There’s no way she’ll outlive Emmanuel. He’s fucking smarter than we thought, and we’ve already been found.Twice.” He points a hand toward the outside wall. “Who’s to say he didn’t follow those roaches here? He could be a mile down the road, waiting for us to fall asleep, and your dumb ass still won’t carry a gun.”
“If I carried, my brothers would’ve been dead the moment they pulled Layla out of the car.”