“Is the guy your father owes at the top?”
“As far as I know. He’s the one who moves the cars and has them delivered to the clients. We just drop them at the docks.” Marco frowns. “Wait. I don’t like where this is going.”
“Hear me out.” I touch his knee, and he covers my hand with his.
“If you tell my dad who he is, you can make a deal. The guy who is blackmailing you will go to prison, where he belongs.”
Marco bolts off the sofa and stands across from me, his bare chest heaving like he just ran a mile. “I’m not talking to the cops, Frankie.”
“I’ll talk to my dad ahead of time and make sure you won’t get in any trouble.” The conversation isn’t going the way I hoped. “Trust me, please.”
He rakes his hands through his damp hair. “I’ll find another way out of this.”
“If you had another option, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Marco folds his arms across his chest. “The answer is still no.”
“Why?” A knot forms in my throat.
He moves toward me, arms open. “Come here.”
I want nothing more than to fall into his arms and ignore my fears and forget the pain. But I can’t ignore things anymore. I spent the summer trying, and it didn’t change anything.
I stand and hold out my hand, signaling him to stop. “No. I want an answer. Why won’t you talk to my dad if he guarantees there won’t be any fallout for you and Sofia?”
“What about Deacon? Will your father let him walk away, too? He’s in deeper than me, Frankie. When he was expelled, stealing cars became his full-time job. If we’re under investigation, your dad and his partner have probably figured that out by now.” Marco’s eyes plead for understanding. “I can’t give your dad the kind of information he’ll want without selling out Deacon. And I won’t do that.”
“Is the guy you work for threatening Deacon, too?”
He shakes his head. “No. Deacon wanted in.”
“Then he belongs in jail. Are you willing to throw away your future for him?”
Marco moves toward me again, but I turn my back on him. I sense it the moment he’s behind me, even before he touches me. My body is so aware of him now. He brushes the hair over my shoulder, his fingers grazing my neck.
“Don’t.”
He steps closer, and his breath tickles the back of my neck. Strong arms reach over my shoulders and hug my back against his bare skin. “I can’t help it,” he murmurs against my neck. “Every time I see you, I want to hold you.”
“You won’t be able to if you’re in jail.”
Marco kisses my neck and slides around so he’s in front of me. “Look at me.”
If I do, I’ll break.
I keep my lashes down. “I can’t.”
He cups my face in his hands and gently raises my chin. “Before you kissed me at the party, I imagined what it would feel like. How it would feel to hold you. But I never thought…” He releases me and presses the heels of his hands against his forehead. I hate the confusion and pain in Marco’s eyes. I hate that I’m causing any part of it.
My fingers find his again, tethering us. “You never thought what?”
“I’d get the chance.”
I’m not brave enough to tell him how often he crossed my mind. “I doubt you have trouble finding girls who want to kiss you.” I nudge him with my shoulder, trying to sound playful instead of jealous.
“You’re the only girl I want to kiss.” Marco raises our intertwined hands and holds them against his heart. Our hands fit together perfectly. Not all hands fit. Or all people. “I plan on doing a lot more of it if you’ll let me. But I can’t turn on Deacon. We’re brothers, whether we share the same blood or not. He saved Sofia’s life, and he’s had my back whenever I needed him.”
The jagged scars on Deacon’s neck flash through my mind—proof of the sacrifice he made. Even if I’m not crazy about Deacon, he must have some good inside.
“My dad and his partner are really good at their jobs. It’s only a matter of time before someone screws up or they find the evidence they need to make an arrest.” And it scares me to death.
Marco rubs his nose against mine. Mom used to do the same thing, back when she was still my mom and not King Richard’s robotic queen.
“I don’t have the right to ask, but if you stick with me, all this will be over soon. Except the part about your dad hating my guts.” He nuzzles my neck, sending waves of heat through every inch of my body. “If you don’t want to decide now, I’ll give you space.” His fingers tighten around mine, his heart beating fast beneath our joined hands.
With my free hand I trace a path from the hollow of his neck and down his chest until I reach his waistband. I freeze, my hand on his stomach. “I don’t want space. I want…”
If you say it out loud, it’s real.
“What?” The anticipation in his voice makes me bold.
“I want you.” I untangle my fingers from his and loop my arms around his neck, my damp T-shirt pressing against his warm skin.