Page 52 of Devils Cut

Her gaze dropped to her now-damp singlet and shorts, and I couldn't help but tease her. "Pity the singlet isn't white..."

She laughed again, playfully swatting my arm before walking off. I watched her go, a small smile playing on my lips.

I walked back to the bedroom, dripping water as I went. Grabbing yesterday's clothes, I pulled them on, mumbling to myself about needing to get my stuff brought over today.

As I made my way to the kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs hit me. Tempest was at the stove, her brow furrowed in concentration as she poked at the pan with a spatula. I couldn't help but chuckle when I saw the state of our breakfast – the eggs were overdone and the bacon was barely cooked.

"Hey," I said, leaning against the counter with a teasing grin. "What happened here?"

Tempest shot me a pointed look. "I tried." She said with a shrug.

"Clearly," I laughed, earning a huff from her. "Sit down, princess. Let me fix this."

She begrudgingly took a seat at the table, watching me with narrowed eyes as I salvaged what I could of our meal.

I finished up the bacon and eggs, setting a plate in front of her and taking a seat across from her.

After taking a bite of her food and looking at it in amazement, Tempest listens as I tell her, "I have to leave soon, so I'll drop you off at work at 11. But don't worry, I'll be back in time to hear you sing." Curious, she asks me, "Where are you heading off to?" Then, realising her mistake, she adds quickly, "Oh sorry, you probably can't tell me."

"Princess, you can ask me anything you want," I told her, locking my gaze with hers. "If I answer, then I answer. If I don't, it's for your own safety."

"Okay," she said, smiling softly.

I reluctantly confessed, "We deal in drugs, guns, and other illegal items." Our bar serves as a front for laundering our profits. "Today, I have a meeting with the Russian mafia," I stated, observing her reaction closely.

"They've had issues with their shipments. The issue wasn't on our end, but theirs. They shadowed a few shipments to see where the problem was, and now their Boss wants to meet to discuss what they found. We mainly try to talk in person since phones can be tapped."

"Wait...guns? Like, actual guns?" Tempest asked incredulously, her eyes wide with amazement.

I couldn't help but laugh at her innocent expression. "Yes, princess."

"In Australia, we don't get much exposure to guns. They're mostly illegal unless you have a license. Even then, they stay locked away in cupboards or lockboxes," she explained, her voice tinged with disbelief.

I could feel the weight of my pistol pressed against my lower back as I smiled back at Tempest, a constant reminder of the world we lived in. "I wish that was the case here in America, princess. But we're so used to carrying these damn things 24/7, it's like second nature now." I paused, meeting her eyes with a fierce determination. "But you don't need to worry about any of it. I'll keep you safe, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, her gaze never leaving mine.

"Promise me something," I said, leaning in closer. "No matter what happens, trust me to protect you."

"Of course I trust you, Corvus," she replied, her voice soft but full of conviction.

"Good." I squeezed her hand tightly, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine.

"Corvus?" Her voice pulled me back from my thoughts.

"Yeah, princess?"

"I... I love you," she said, her cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of pink.

My heart clenched painfully in my chest. "Tempest... I love you too," I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.

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The sun glinted off Tempest's hair as she slid off the back of my bike. She pulled off her helmet, revealing those green eyes that always seemed to pierce right through me. "I'll see you later," she murmured, leaning in for a gentle kiss.

"Later, babe," I replied, taking the helmet from her and watching as she sauntered toward the front door of the bar. Killer, held the door open for her with a nod, disappearing inside once she'd crossed the threshold.

Shoving the helmet back onto my head, I gripped the clutch tight and clicked down once, taking off down the road. The wind roared in my ears, drowning out everything but the rumble of my engine - it was pure fucking freedom, something I craved every goddamn day.

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