When I thought she’d left for good, I was so . . . blank. The idea that she might vanish as abruptly as she’d appeared was intolerable. It made me realize how dull and cold my life had been before I met her. I didn’t want to go back to that.
And then she showed up in my driveway once more, and I couldn’t deny how happy I was to see her.
Excitement. Happiness. Connection . . . Love. These are things I didn’t expect or want to feel.
Actually, they fucking terrify me.
Putting your emotions into another person is dangerous.
If I care about Sloane, it’s like I’ve cut off a part of myself and put it inside of her. And if she decides to leave again, or if something happens to her . . . that piece of me is just gone. Lost or destroyed.
It’s a risk.
A risk I shouldn’t take.
But I’m not sure I have a choice.
I care about her. It happened without any decision or consent.
And I’m afraid it’s only going to get stronger. The more time I spend with Sloane, the more I want.
To distract myself, I call my brother to check in.
“Hey,” Dom says, sounding slightly out of breath.
“What are you doing?”
“Playing Call of Duty.”
“With the kid?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s fucking smoking us,” Dom says sourly.
Zima has been settling in at the compound surprisingly well. He seems to like the company and the evening-centric schedule. I had only planned to let him stay a few days, to make sure he didn’t suffer the blowback for the loss of the flash drive. But now I’m thinking he might be useful. Unasked, he fixed a bug in the security cameras, and gave Dom some good advice on the perimeter sensors.
We don’t exactly have a tech guy, and Zima is a veritable savant.
Granted, the kid eats more than my three biggest guys. But with skills like his, I’d at least break even.
“You get Sloane yet?” Dom asks.
“Just waiting.”
“You bring anybody with you?”
“No.”
I want to be alone with Sloane. I’m planning to take her out for dinner, once her train comes in. We’ve never been on an actual date. I’d love to see her sitting across from me at a candlelit table.
“None of us should go out alone,” Dom says. “Not ‘till all this shit with Remizov is settled.”
I know he’s just thinking about Karol. But it irritates me when my little brother tries to lay down the law. Especially when I know he’s right.
“I won’t be alone once I pick her up,” I tell Dom, a note of warning in my voice. “Worry about yourself and the rest of the men.”