The spear lances through my heart at his words and makes me feel physically ill.
Turbulence shakes the private jet and I dig my nails into the flesh of my palms. I huff out a nervous breath. It’s like God Himself is shaking some sense into me. He knows as well as I do, I can’t continue to live under their protection for long and Bastian’s truthful words are the kick I need.
But I can’t leave either.
My stepfather will find me and when that happens a war will break out. He’ll get crushed, but there is always the chance one of my men will get hurt. I can’t have that on my conscience. They can promise me all they want that the man won’t touch me, but they don’t know him like I do. He never stops until he gets what he wants.
His parting words chase me into my dreams every single night. No, he wants me and he won’t stop until he does. It’s part of his power trip. I am the one who showed him he didn’t control me so what does he want? Me.
I settle my hand over my stomach. He can’t have me. Or have us.
When I shared my pedigree none of my men seemed surprised by my admission. As for me, I was shocked as hell to learn they knew of my familyandmy stepfather. It seems they’ve already had run-ins with the man once and didn’t like him. Big surprise there.
That first night after losing my mother was hard, but they held me up and refused to let me sink into the bleakness of my soul. Ever since then they’ve kept me close, worshiped my body, and given me everything I could want and more. Designer clothes, jewelry, a place to feel safe. And in return, I willingly give them everything they want.
Except for two things.
Anal sex. Yeah, I’m a real piece of freaking work. I tend to grow shaky and can’t seem to catch my breath the few times we’ve tried. I want it, but how without freaking the hell out?
Big question.
And they want answers. I know they want to ask about the details of my mother’s death, but I can’t bring myself to talk about her. They catch me staring off into space and when I return to myself, I see the questions lingering in their minds and on their tongues.
Where do I go when I space out?
Why do I wake in the middle of the night screaming?
Why do I need a light on in order to sleep?
But they keep quiet. If they’re waiting for me to talk willingly it’s not going to happen. I know they would blaze into hell and kill Satan for me, but if one of them gets hurt because of what I tell them I would die right alongside them. Thinking about it makes my chest tighten with dread. How can I bring that down on them when they’ve done nothing but feed my need for pain and pleasure? I might as well take Dante’s knife and drive it into all three of them. There’s no difference.
I rather lose myself in blissful sex. It’s amazing how easily I can let go ofhimwhen I am around them and just live with dormant emotions. It’s easier that way.
The coroner declared mom’s death a suicide. I’m not strong enough to prove otherwise. Yet. I just need a little time. For what, I don’t know. For me to grow more powerful than my stepfather. For me to rediscover my inner warrior, blaze through Seattle to his house, and slay his evil ass?
I don’t know.
The men have been patient but I know they will want answers sooner rather than later. I’ve counted on them being busy digging deeper roots in Seattle. From what I can tell, anyway. They don’t talk about a lot of business around me.
Phone calls come in, they walk off leaving me with the other two. Business meetings come and go, but no matter what one of them always stays with me.
Until tonight. Something is up but all three are tight-lipped.
My phone vibrates with an incoming call. I check the screen but I don’t recognize the number so I send it to voicemail.
Placing the phone back in my bag, I take a hesitant breath before I swivel my captain’s chair around to face all three. Their whispers stop as their eyes raise to meet mine.
I falter. I knew this moment wouldn’t be easy. The weight of all their attention zeroed in on me makes my knees feel like Jell-O in an earthquake.
I draw in a deep breath. I can do this. I look at Bastian first knowing he’s not going to like what I have to tell them. He seems calm if just a little irritated.
Dante has his hair pulled into a knot near the middle of his head. I love the way a few strands always fall out. I walk over to him and he opens his arms to me. I ease my weight into his lap. After we settle into his chair, like always, I release the clasp holding his hair from my hands.
I run my fingers through the silky length and instantly feel grounded.
Bastian is sitting beside him looking jealous. I smile, crook a finger and he leans in for a kiss. After a satisfying groan, he sits back looking smug at Con who is across the aisle from us.
I rise from Dante’s lap and move to Con. He spans my waist with strong hands and settles his forehead against my abdomen. The tip of his tattoo peeks out from his collar and I trace the border of the black ink with the tip of my nail. Fingers tighten into me and just like that my nerve ends sizzle to life, ready.