On quick feet, she hurried my way again. Her movements were fast, but this time I wasn’t caught off guard. Sammy stood on tiptoe, kissing me sweetly. It wasn’t wet and raw, it wasn’t meant to make my cock jump to attention, and it still did.
I’d never been kissed like that in all my life.
Scurrying away like she was worried she couldn’t stop herself if she didn’t abandon our kiss right then, she opened the door. Light slid in through the crack, turning her face into two halves; partly angelic, partly cool blue shadow. “Night.” She vanished into the house and out of sight.
Touching my mouth, I shivered. This girl is going to ruin me.
Counting a full three minutes, I slid out of the garage. I’d figured I could avoid anyone this way. After all, it was pretty late. Everyone else should have been in bed or settling in. Whatever problems would arise from my decisions, they could come in the morning.
My father was waiting for me in the mudroom.
Ah, shit-tits.
The deep lines in his forehead gave away his fury. “What the hell were you thinking?”
I stuck my hands in my jacket. “You told me to get her anything she needed. She needed to go see her mother.” I started to shove past him; his hand slammed into my chest, sending me back into the wall.
“You think it was smart to bring her out of the estate?” he asked. The anger burned low in his eyes. “If someone was following you, you led them right to her mother. How was that helping anyone?”
I swayed forward, our chests bumping. “No one would have to worry about that if you’d let us do something about Brick Monroe.”
“Like what, kill him?”
My eye twitched. “Punish him. Make it clear he can’t go after anyone he wants without consequences.”
“Do you know why he attacked Sammy in the first place?”
My veins throbbed—I struggled for an answer.
He said, “Son, look at me.” With reluctance I did. “I suspected the Deep Shots from the start. Ever since they changed leadership, they’ve become . . . reckless. What matters now is learning their motives. If they want to make a move to take us out, and she’s somehow part of that . . .”
“You want to use her as bait?”
His nose became a row of grooves. I worried he might hit me—and that wasn’t something he’d ever done. Lowering his hands to his sides, he breathed out like a dragon in its den. “Our family comes first. It’s a shame you’ve forgotten that. I thought I could trust you to obey my rules. Apparently not.”
“Rules,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What are you going to do? Cut me off from our money? You can’t hurt me, and I’m not some snot-nosed kid you can ground in his room anymore.”
I was getting puffed up—cocky. I was positive he could do nothing to me.
Maverick was contemplating something. I watched him size me up, seeing how unimpressed I was with his threats. Half turning, he looked down the hall, toward the front stairs.
Toward Sammy.
“I can’t trust you not to sneak her out again. I’ll put someone else in charge.”
My heart shriveled.
“And,” he went on, “I don’t trust her to listen to me, either. She’s amazingly good at manipulating people.”
“She didn’t manipulate me! I—”
“You what?” he asked, fixing one cold eye on me. He dared me to say it. I didn’t know what it even was. That I wanted her so bad that I’d risk getting in trouble with my own family?
That I cared for her?
That I . . .
My father was moving, his arms stone stiff beside him. Me and my brothers were gifted with his genetics, all of us tall and strong. But he was still larger, a man that would have looked more comfortable dragging a plow over a farm.
Or sitting on a gigantic throne.
“Stop,” I hissed, following him up the stairs. “Where are you going?”
“I told you. I’m putting everyone’s safety first.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
He knocked on Fran’s door. Inside, I heard the chattering stop cold. Seconds later, my twin opened the door, blinking at us both. Behind her, Sammy sat on the floor in a pair of silky, two-piece, mint-green pajamas. “Uh, hi, Daddy. What’s up?”
The girl I adored looked back at me with eyes that matched her outfit. Her smile was uncertain, failing the longer she realized that I wasn’t even trying to look happy.
I’d been so fucking sure he could do nothing to me.
So sure . . .
That I’d forgotten he could do plenty to Sammy.
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN -
SAMMY
“Where are you taking me?” My voice rose while I yanked frantically on the impossible vise that was Maverick’s fist. He was pulling me easily through the mansion, both Fran and Kain close behind.
“Dad!” Francesca snapped, rushing toward my side. “Let her go! This is insane! Daddy!”
The tree of a man didn’t even look at her.
My heels dug in; I skidded, close to falling, but Maverick righted me without even slowing a step. “Hey! Ha-ha, let’s just talk about this like normal, non-dragging-girls-through-a-mansion kind of people!” In desperation, I twisted so violently my shoulder threatened to pop free. “Kain,” I said, searching his face for some clue. “What’s happening? Is this because you took me off the estate?”
Maverick ripped me around a corner. “Yes, you have my son to thank for what I’m being forced to do.”
The scalding hate Kain aimed at the back of his father’s head stunned me. “You don’t have to do anything! You’re overreacting!”
His father grunted, dismissing the accusation. “Sammy, I took you in to make sure nothing happened to you . . . and also to make sure you couldn’t be used against us. You and my son seem to think that I’m joking around.”
Our tiny parade was heading into a part of the house where I’d never been. The long walkway was flush with windows, the night sky peeking inside. Being forced along by muscle and fury, I actually thought that this place with its glowing white marble and angelic-halo lights couldn’t hold back the darkness that Maverick Badd was burning with.
At the end of the hall, there was a door. It was deceptively simple, nothing about it should have scared me. Somehow I knew that if we reached that place . . . everything would end.
I would end.
My heart’s rhythm was breaking down, the pattern erratic. “Hey—uh, wait! Just wait! I thought you said you liked me? Remember?” I tugged and tugged. “If you quit now, we can forget this whole thing! I’d like that—anyone else like that idea? No? Just me?”
Maverick’s hand closed on the doorknob. His son’s palm came down like a whip, clamping shut on top. Their fingers were pretzeled, the two men staring each other down. Sandwiched between, I was suffocating in their raw intensity.
“Kain,” his father said softly. “Back off.”
“I won’t let you do this to her,” he growled.
Do what to me?
“What’s all of this?” The voice was flat; Costello stood in the hall behind us. His loose sweatpants hung off his slim hips, the top of his black boxers creeping above the lazily tied strings.