Page 17 of Hostile Bond
He keeps his gaze on the sprawling roof of the grand villa snuggled in a tropical rainforest and exhales. White exterior walls peek out from behind abundant foliage, its discreet position not obvious at first glance. “So… I’m ready to hear your top three, Wifey.”
He squeezes my hand, sending a rogue shiver down the length of my spine.
I look at his side profile, doing my best to drown the silly butterflies caught in my throat by swallowing. “It’s simple. I want to be your friend first…like we were back then.”
“Are you trying to friend zone your husband?” His laughter makes my belly flip. “Because me not fucking you is out of the question. I’m a man with needs and you're the only woman who can satisfy them.”
“I think we’ve skipped past the friend zone, Dré,” I giggle. “We can have both, right? I just ask that you discuss the important stuff with me. That’s all I want from you.”
His fingers skate up my back, sliding into the hair at my nape. “Is that it?”
“And I want my mother to start over again. She deserves to live somewhere safe, beautiful—and sunny. I want her to leave Ireland and come here. I’ve never been anywhere quite like this before.”
He tenses immediately. “Not yet,” his voice thickens, its tone harsher than I’d expected. “We’ll fly her over in a few weeks.”
I stop, my feet sinking into the wet sand, and swivel into him. Catching his darkened gaze, I take back my hand. “Why do I get the impression you’re keeping something else from me?”
André swallows, his fingers moving to the side of my face, where his featherlight touch both chills and ignites me with fire. “Sapori is meeting with Tommy and I tomorrow.” He nods seaward. “He’ll anchor his yacht out there. Apparently, he knows who murdered Reno. And I’m going to find out who thought they were big enough to try to take you away from me, Sinéad. We need to keep your father alive for now.”
My heart stutters. “You’re joking… you told that bastard where we are… so he knows where to find me? We’ll be exposed, Dré. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re telling me after it was arranged. I can’t live like this anymore.”
7
ANDRÉ
Love changes everything.
It affects the simple things, making them stand out more. How the zephyr playing with her hair makes me envious of nature's humble touch, or the way her exquisite eyes trap twinkling sunbeams to laser through the darkness clouding my soul.
I’ve never cared before, not about a woman. My mother, yeah—and Reno’s kid sister, but this female has me in knots.
My obvious boner is the only thing separating us and if she keeps slaying me with that crestfallen expression, I’ll ram it between those parted lips of hers to rekindle our fiery spark. The sinking sense of her discontent hits me a thousand times harder than Papá’s disappointment ever did.
If I can’t fix this, I’ll run the risk of losing my shit again. I was close to it after I’d shot the annoying gull out of the sky. The damn bird needed to show some fucking respect for our deceased friend. However, Letterman and India––Christ, they nearly broke my heart.
A flash of the past winds me, the vivid memory punching my gut with a steel fist. I remembered the night in my penthouse when the three of us had drunk too much, smoked too much weed, and regrouped on the couch after fucking a couple of girls’ brains out.
In our contented, stoned state, the early morning conversation got heavy quickly. Reno had made us both promise to look after India if he ever took a bullet. That was years ago. But today I was staring at India’s tear-streaked face over the photographs of her dead brother. Like he had known it would happen one day. That he’d go first––or he’d put his life on the line for me, his boss and his best friend.
I needed to escape the uncharacteristic agony in my chest. To abandon the ache burning my muscles and hide from this grief blanketing the blazing sun in a glacial blizzard.
Somehow, Sinéad has a way of guiding me through the darkness, hand in hand. Together we could take on the world if she accepts that I’ll always have shadows following me. This is my way of life. Danger is everywhere I go.
I’m a criminal. A killer. The son of a psychopath.
“How could you?” she whispers, breathy and stunned.
My heart lurches. She doesn’t understand the depth of my vengeance. A bloodthirsty appetite poisons my veins like battery acid, eroding my soul and chipping at my patience.
Sapori has intel, which makes him a temporary asset. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what he did to my wife. Far from it. His days are numbered. If it weren’t for Tommy clawing me back from insanity, Sapori would have been dipped in concrete already, left to harden as a statue, and stuck within the gardens of my next home for the birds to shit on and the weather to tarnish.
“Sapori has information about the bombing. He knows the identity of the man who tried to steal you from me.” I confirm. “Hearing that information is a big deal. He’ll anchor off the coast and arrive on dry land via a tender boat. We’ll see him coming for miles. My guys will have him monitored the second he steps foot on our territory. We’re on an island, Sin. No one can get to you without my permission.”
Her head shakes from side to side as she sighs heavily. “You kept this from me too. When were you planning to talk to me about his visit? Tomorrow… or when he strolled into the villa?”
The truth is, I would do whatever she asked of me. Which is why I had delayed telling her. I knew this would flip her world, and she’d likely put her foot down. Especially after I’d told her we moved here for privacy and safety.
However, this particular meeting is an exception to the rule. Only a means to an end. Also, Tomás made it clear that we had to allow Sapori safe passage off the island. My brother wants him alive to manipulate a few of his tight-lipped contacts, helping us to dig deeper into Papá’s assassination. After that, the spineless fucker is all mine.
