Page 78 of Sinful Promise
His cheeks pale as I hit the bullseye he’s worked so hard to hide for days. “What?”
“I heard you’re here searching for the elusive vigilante. Because you got this notion maybe they were looking for me.”
“You know who it is?” He takes another step closer. Dangerous. Formidable, exactly the way Archer does it. “You know who the vigilante is?”
“No.”Lie. “But I know I’m not in danger. And since your little assignment has been exposed, I’d say it’s a good time for you to leave. Go back to New York. Finish high school. Secure a spot with the Knicks and move on with your life,sansworrying about the Malone mafia or the vigilante killer.”
His lovely green eyes scour my face for a full minute, while I note the long lashes surrounding them. His jaw is square, like Archer’s, and his hair hangs at the same length.
Of all five Malone brothers, the two youngest seem to carry the most resemblance. It’s almost as though, when I look at Cato, I get a view of my husband when he was seventeen.
Archer probably thought birds fucked bees, too. And we both know he gave it his best shot to practice with as many women in Copeland as possible.
“Go home, Cato.” I set my hand on his shoulder and hold it there for a beat. “Live your life and do it safely. Your father is no longer alive and controlling your destiny.”
He chuckles low on his breath. “Destiny is already decided, no? No matter who lives or dies, it’s already written in the stars.”
“Is it?” Bringing my hand back, I take my nearly empty syringe and continue pushing Factor into my veins. “Because if you believe that, then you being here to protect me from this mythical killer is a waste of time, right? If the vigilante wants to murder me, then destiny has made it so.”
“Doesn’t mean I’ll sit back and watch it happen. Malones take care of family. You married my brother… that means we step up and keep your enemies at bay.”
“You contradict yourself.”
Finishing with my infusion, I set down my empty syringe and peel the tape off my arm. Pulling the needle from my vein and pressing a wad of tissue to the bleeding spot, I slap Cato’s hand away when he reaches out for my used needle.
“That’s how you catch diseases, dummy.”
He rubs his hand, but smirks. “You got the clap, Mayet? Wanna share?”
“You’re more related to Felix than I first gave you credit for,” I drawl. Dropping my tourniquet back in its box, then my needle in the sharps container under the sink, I collect everything else and pack it all away. “He raised you, right? Felix.”
Cato dogs my steps so every time I turn, we practically bump into each other. But when I huff with impatience, he only smirks. “I consider myself free-range,” he says. “One isn’traised by Felix.”
“Who took you to school every day? Who picked you up?”
“A driver.” He snatches my medication bottles before I can toss them away, and turns them to continue reading the labels. “We had people do that for us.”
I glance under the sink and find a pack of Band-Aids in a box. Taking one out, I stand again and peel the paper backing off to reveal the sticky side. “Who sat with you to do your homework?”
Slowly, seductively, he grins. “I had a tutor. Her name was Austin, and she had a special method of rewarding me when I’d answer a question correctly.”
My lips peel back in disgust. “Excuse me while I vomit in my mouth a little bit.” I slap my Band-Aid down to the inside of my elbow, then I close the cupboard door and turn back to the little brother I never wanted. “Statutory rape, Cato. Every single time.”
“Funny. I have straight A’s in every class she tutored me in.”
“You’re a pig.” I push out of my kitchen and cross to the living room to snatch up the television remote. Turning the channel until I find something a little more child friendly—Lizzie McGuire—I turn back to the boy and smile. “Don’t make me turn this to the Disney Channel.”
He grabs my coffee from the machine and brings it to his curled lips. “Archer had a tutor too.”
My eyes narrow to threatening slits.
“So if you wanna throw a tantrum,” he tilts his head toward the hall. “I’ll be here to comfort you after you break up with him.”
“Go home, Cato.” I toss the remote down and try with all my heartnotto get angry at Archer.
But unfortunately, my toxic trait—besides killing killers—is to sprint from zero to a thousand when other women try to step into our marriage.
Even if those women stepped out again before he’d even met me.
