Page 112 of The Games We Play

What the hell is with the lollipop?

Making our way out of the row and into the middle aisle, I turn and head toward to the exit. His mother pushes her way in front of me and screams in my face.

“You did this! You put him there!”

“He did it to himself!” I bite back immediately. “He raped me. Beat me. He almost killed me!” I yell through the courtroom. She flinches as she steps back in dismay. I can’t say I blame her, the tenure and strength behind my voice surprises even me.

“He made his decision and—” I look back at the judge and his attorney, criminals just the same, then look back at hismother, meeting her eye-to-eye, “he clearly felt remorse for his sins. He couldn’t even live with himself, and thank God for that, because the world is a better place for it.” My tone is more calm and matter-a-fact now.

I lift my chin and step around her, not giving them a glance back as I walk through the large oak doors with so much more strength, power, and justification than the first time.

And as the doors shut behind me, it’s like that part of my life is over. I’m finally free to move on, and this darkness isn’t clouding over me. The doors bind together as my closure and I accept it freely.

I close my eyes as I suck in a deep breath and exhale. I’m unable to hold back my smile when my eyes open and Seamus stands directly in my line of sight. His back leans up against the side of the wall, one foot kicked back against the wall, his head tilted to one side, studying me with a lopsided smile of his own.

When I last saw him, and frankly almost every single time I see him, he’s wearing a black shirt, black pants, black boots, and even his damn belt is black.

Not now. Now, he’s changed into something mouthwatering and completely irresistible, looking lighter than ever with a glint behind his eyes.

Light stonewashed jeans work their way up his legs, a white button up shirt fits snugly around his torso with the top buttons undone, giving me a teasing view of his broad chest. The gray wool jacket lays over the top, the collar splayed, with his hair just clean enough to pull off his look, but messy enough to make him look like he just stepped off a runway.

He looks fucking edible.

Pressing into his foot, he kicks himself off the wall and starts to walk toward me. I pull my bottom lip into my teeth when I see that damn white stick peeking out the side of his mouth.

“Okay,” I glance up at Rocco, who’s sucking on the same stick, “what’s with the lollipop?”

He just shrugs, a bit of a sad look crosses over him. “Not all missions end successfully, but when they do, this is how we celebrate.”

When I turn, Seamus is walking with more purpose, and now the only black on him is his eyes that gaze into me so deeply, I feel it to my bones.

He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me flush against his.

Pulling the lollipop out of his mouth, he presses his lips to mine and our tongues collide. The sugary sweetness blends over my taste buds, and I can’t help but moan at both the taste and sensation.

I pull back, unable to hide my smile. “Did you miss me?” he asks, his eyebrows raised, unsure what answer to anticipate.

Before I can say anything, Rocco answers, even though he knows damn well Seamus wasn’t talking to him. “Hell yes, what the fuck took you so long?”

Miller and Whitlock—I frown, realizing I don’t know their first names, and I think that’s weird—walk up to our small huddle, standing on opposite sides of Rocco.

“We were almost toast,” Whitlock replies, as he bites into his green lollipop. “Right as we were leaving, another guard came up—he just started working at the jail, so I had no idea who he was—and busted us. He had his gun out yelling,put your hands where I can see them.” He lowered the tenor of his voice to sound even manlier. “Then he takes one look at Seamus, puts his gun back in his holster, and they do some sort of fist bump secret handshake. Next thing we know, the dude is leading us out the backway and we were like ninjas in the night, never to be seen again.”

A first-time, timid smile crosses Seamus’ lips and he peers over at his guys and a sense of pride washes over me. I can see how much these guys mean to him and the loyalty they have. Butit seems like everyone who’s crossed paths with him feels that way.

“Alright, enough of all this.” His arm falls from my waist, but finds my hand. He laces his fingers in between mine and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “You ready to go home, sunshine?”

I nod and smile back as Whitlock takes a couple steps backward with a skip in his stride. “We’re going on the private jet, right?”

I laugh at the guys bantering back and forth as we walk out the courtroom doors and into the Texas sun.

When my parents moved me away from here after everything happened, it was to start a new life that I didn’t want. It ripped me away from my friends and everyone I loved, everything that was familiar to me.

This time, I’m leaving Texas proud and happy, feeling more loved than I ever have, and it feels like going home.

48

NAOMI

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