HANS: Alliance Series Book Four

I tell her about Gabriel Marcoux. How I never found him. And I place her hand on my side, letting her feel what’s left of my first scar.

I tell her about the first time I met Karmine. And every time after. I tell her about the other women, the ones who have joined Karmine’s army. How I work with them. How we’ve been destroying trafficking rings one hit at a time.

I tell her I moved to Minnesota because of Freya. That she was going to attend college here and that it was her dream to live somewhere with lakes and seasons. And I tell her how glad I am that I did.

I twine my fingers through Cassandra’s when I tell her that I read her blog, Cul-de-sac Culinary with Cassie. That I’ve read it all the way through a dozen times.

I let her kiss me then. With her surprised smile and tears on her cheeks.

Then I tell her about The Alliance. I tell her why Dom owes me a favor. And how even though Nero said he’d help, they’re still dangerous men to be wary of.

I tell her I have a lot of enemies. And that it could be any one of them who sent a man to find me. How it was just bad luck that she opened her door. But also that if she hadn’t, the man might have been able to identify me. And if that had happened, when he came back, he wouldn’t be alone.

I tell her the truth. That I’m good at what I do. But that if they’d hit my house with enough men, when I wasn’t expecting them, I could’ve died.

I tell her she may have saved my life tonight.

And that I’d give my own to keep her safe.

And it feels good to tell her.

It feels good to share my story.

It feels good to trust someone again.





CHAPTER 80





Cassie





Lifting my hand to his cheek, I lean forward and gently press my lips to his. “You’re a good man, Hans.”

He shakes his head, but I kiss him again.

“You might do it through unconventional ways, but you make the world better.”

His dark eyes stare into mine. “I’ve killed a lot of people, Cassandra.”

“I killed one tonight.” I rest my head back on my pillow and shrug. “Some people deserve to die.”

Hans watches me. Like really watches me.

I’m a privileged girl from the suburbs. I’ve never physically hurt anyone before tonight. I’ve never thrown a punch. Never even slapped someone. And I’ve never seen a dead body outside of an open-casket funeral.

But I’ve watched enough documentaries. I listen to the news. I know there are some really awful people in this world who do really awful things. And I know—I know—Hans isn’t one of those people. He isn’t bad.

Sure, according to polite society, I should be much more alarmed by all this. By the fact that I’m lying in bed with someone who admitted they kill because they want to. That I took a man’s life tonight. That I may very well be in danger and on the run in the immediate future.

But really, what’s so bad about all that?

We only live once, as far as we know, and I wasn’t doing anything with my life.

I wasn’t saving anyone. I wasn’t bringing justice to wrongdoers.

I wasn’t unhappy, but I wasn’t thriving. I’ve just been existing. Looking for my passion. Something to inspire me.

My parents raised me to understand that there are consequences for our actions, repercussions we need to face when we do something wrong. And the men Hans has killed… Their wrongs are unforgivable. They earned their punishment.

Hans is their punishment.

And Hans is my passion.

Lying on our sides, facing each other, I feel a sense of rightness. Like this is where I belong.

When Hans told me the details about his past, about his family, it broke my heart.

I can’t fix it for him, no one can bring them back, but I can be here for him now.

“You’re a good man,” I say again.

Hans’s throat works on a swallow, then he grips my shoulders and forces me to roll away from him.

I don’t fight it, because I can feel him move with me. And as soon as I’m facing the other way, he presses his body to mine. His front to my back.

“My Butterfly.” Hans presses a kiss to the back of my head. “My girl.” He circles his arm around my waist. “My light.”

His words seep into my heart.

“My Grizzly Bear.” I hug his arm. “My man.” I melt into his body. “My stalker.” I smile.

Sleep finally starts to take me, the weight of the day pulling me under, when Hans whispers two more words.

“My love.”





CHAPTER 81





Hans





“I’m tapping out,” Cassandra groans, leaning back in the sole chair.

We slept past noon and ordered another round of room service. Only this time we ate at the desk in the corner instead of on the bed. And I made Cassandra use the chair while I just leaned against the wall.

If I hadn’t been so busy hating the employee who checked us in last night, I would’ve asked for a suite.

Cassandra was already interested in me when she thought all I could afford was one cheap, run-down house. So I know I don’t need to impress her with fancy hotel rooms. But it would’ve been nice to give her something special after yesterday.

I eye what’s left of her club sandwich. “You’re not gonna finish it?”

She presses her hands to her stomach. “It was huge. I’m too full.”

It was huge. I’m too full.

My blood simmers, and I drag my gaze from her plate up to her face. “That’s one, Butterfly.”

Her mouth drops in an indignant expression. “What? I didn’t even do—” Then her lips press together, and she rolls her eyes. “I was talking about a sandwich.”

“Doesn’t matter. You still said it.”

She pretends to be annoyed, but I can see the smile she’s fighting. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Probably.” I lift a shoulder. “Can I finish it?” I point to her leftovers.

She smirks. “It’s all yours, Baby.”

My balls tighten as I reach down and pick up the food. “One and a half.”

Cassandra lets out a full laugh, and I grin as I shove the last bite of her sandwich into my mouth.

It tastes better than I know it should. But that’s because it’s hers. She had her hands on it. Her mouth on it.

I lick a smudge of mayo off my fingertip.

From the few meals we’ve shared, I think it’s safe to say my obsession with consuming her food doesn’t just apply to her home bakes, but also to anything she’s eaten herself.

My eyes move to the crumbs on her plate.

Cassandra seems to let a lot of my bad behavior go, but licking sandwich crumbs off a hotel plate might be too much.

I’m still considering it when my phone rings, making the decision for me.

I pull it out of my pocket and set it on the table between us. A1—Alliance One, Nero’s designation—fills my screen.

I answer and put it on speaker. “Quick work.”

“Had my best guys on it,” Nero replies. And I wonder if he’s talking about him and King. “So, the dead guy—nice shot, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Cassandra responds automatically, then slaps a hand over her mouth.

There’s a beat before Nero speaks again. “Well, this just got more interesting. You a part of the hit crew that saved Dom and Val?”

S.J. Tilly's books