For once, I have nothing to say. Should I admit to him that I enjoy the darkness he’s concerned about?
“You are just like me, Mal,” he says as if reading my thoughts. “That fucking black hole you bury yourself in is intoxicating. Harness it, let it fuel you, but do not live by it. The Castellos taught us to love and family, but they could never take away what naturally lurks within us.
You are a powerful woman, my beautiful girl. You control the darkness, and you need it for this life, but you are no one’s bitch.”
“Have you met Lion?” I scoff.
He beams in pride at the mention of his illegitimate son. “The two of you were cut from the same cloth as Elijah, and I were.”
With a kiss on my temple, Dad places his coffee cup down and walks out of the kitchen. I stare at my own untouched cup and consider his words.
Dad looks at me and sees the one who saved his soul. But, in reality, he’s the one who calls to my humanity. Though it’s grey, he’s the source of my morality, too. We ground each other; we’re each the anchor the other needs to keep from falling into the void.
FOR A FEW WEEKS after the talk with my dad, things are stale between the little hacker and me. We went on a few dates, but I’m no closer to my goal than when I started.
The wedge between Collins and Brenner is starting to become a problem already. I’m not sure what was said between them when I left that night, and it didn’t seem wise to bring it up.
Today, I woke up because of a text from Collins asking to meet at noon, followed by an address. It’s now eleven, and I’m putting the finishing touches on my makeup.
The weather is increasingly cold, so I chose an outfit that shows enough sex appeal to appease my inner floozy but won’t risk me freezing my ass off in the process.
After a twenty-minute drive, I pull up to the address Collins sent and park. Looking around at the people in workout attire standing outside the large, secure, I realize he brought me to a gym.
Why the hell would he want to meet at a fucking gym?
I sit in my car, observing the men and women walking in and out for a while, getting a feel of the place. This is a building owned by the bureau.
Well, fuck me.
A viper in a goddamn lion’s den. I knew I would be around the feds, but I’ve been in enemy territory twice within three weeks. I never imagined being welcomed into FBI territory so quickly just because I talked to the man. This was risky enough to pucker even my asshole, and I never got nervous.
I breathe in, then out, bringing myself down from the sudden adrenaline rush, then send Collins a text letting him know I’ve arrived. He quickly responds, telling me where to go and that I’ve been cleared with security to enter the building.
Such a gentleman to leave his lady to wander aimlessly in unfamiliar territory.
After coaxing myself to suck it up and do my damned job, I remove all concealed weapons and hide them under my seat. Collins says I’m cleared to enter, but that doesn’t mean security won’t feel me up the second they can, anyway.
When I walk in, I’m not sure what to expect; possibly a group of tightwads discussing the latest bullshit laws like they were talking about the weather. Or maybe some joking about the dumb son of a bitch they caught recently, laughing about the lowlifes on the street they framed.
But to my surprise, I see men and women sparring. People practice fight techniques and use exercise equipment to work out. I hate to admit it, but I’m slightly impressed by the group of fighters. They have skill, but they fight clean.
Quickly becoming bored with their show when no blood is spilled, I look around, trying to find the fuckwad who asked me to come here. After scanning the room, my eyes land on the man I should’ve been—but wasn’t—prepared for.
Liam motherfucking Brenner.
Since Halloween, the few times I’ve seen Collins, he’s avoided any topic that could lead to Brenner. But here he is, standing in front of his friend in casual conversation. It takes a moment for me to realize that Collins is the one talking to him, and neither man is aware I’ve entered the room.
I take a moment to drink in the sight of Brenner greedily. He’s dangerously attractive, even more reason to get this mission over with. He’s leaning against the wall, wearing nothing but sweatpants and sneakers. A sheen of sweat glistens along his exposed chest.
The quick rise and fall of Brenner’s chest tells me Collins had just interrupted his workout. His arm muscles bulge as they cross against his chest. My eyes trail down his torso to the prominent V in his hips that has my mouth-watering.
I knew the man was ripped by how he fills out his clothes but seeing him half-naked makes me want to see him all naked. Tattoos, usually hidden by his shirts, cover his arms, and the mirror behind him shows more on his back.
Liam Brenner is a goddamn masterpiece, a piece of art one might encase in glass to protect its beauty. He’s a sculpture I want to dismantle with my bare hands, to rip apart and taint his soul with darkness.
My darkness.
Now that would be a work of art worthy of its own show.