“I did,” he agreed. “I’d kill anyone who tried to keep me from you. Besides, I anticipated James’ diverted interests and planned accordingly.”
“And those plans?” I hedged, pushing my fingers through his tousled hair. With each gentle touch, I felt a little tension release from his shoulders.
“Center around working poor Vick to death and putting Lawrence in more legally ambiguous situations than he likes. Plus, the regular security detail and the added help from Hector’s men.”
“Legally ambiguous?” I barked a disbelieving laugh. “You’re a criminal, baby. Best he gets comfortable with that now.”
He was silent for too long, “Is that how you feel? Comfortable with the fact I’m a criminal?”
I thought about it for a moment, knowing a knee-jerk reaction wouldn’t comfort him. “I am.” I pressed my lips to his, “As long as you don’t lie to me and keep shit from me, I can live with what you do. I love you for who you are.”
“Never again,” he vowed.
My gaze darted away, thinking over what he said about James and how he swore he’d protect Emma no matter what.
“I’m not sure Emma can get over the whole criminal thing. I’m not sure she wants the protection James is offering.” The memories of the fights I overheard between them came back to me.
“I’m not sure she has a choice.” The soft sound of his laugh irritated me. Was having a man following and forcing himself on her a laughing matter?
“And why is that funny? If she wants him to go away, he should.” My hands settled on his chest, creating distance between us despite my place on top of him. The anger I still hadn’t let go of simmered beneath the surface, seeking an outlet.
“Oh, come on, Claire,” his hands tangled in my hair, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Don’t act like that’s what I mean.” The burning sincerity in his eyes captivated me. “You see how in love with him she is, don’t you? Hearts pop inside her eyes whenever she sees him, even if she sneers a moment later.” He rubbed his nose against mine before pressing his lips to mine.
“I don’t know.” It was undeniable, but I wasn’t about to sell out my friend if she didn’t want to show her hand yet, or ever.
“You’re a good friend, baby, and a shit liar.”
“I’m an excellent liar.”
“You are a shit liar, Claire,” James quipped as he walked through the door without knocking. I shrieked as I jumped out of Mason’s lap and stared at him. “You’re an alright friend, though you tend to make snap judgments.” He slicked his nearly jet-black hair back and wore a neatly tailored wool jacket accentuating his muscles and sparse hints of refinement.
“My snap judgment is that Mason should assign someone else to watch Emma. Put a few guys on her twenty-four-seven, andyou,James, should shut the fuck up unless you have something helpful to add to this discussion.” James regarded me with surprise and a hint of anger in his expression.
Vick followed a step behind him. His tightly cropped black hair topped his dower expression. His matching pitch-black eyes were hollow and tired, as they had been since Casey died. It wasn’t his fault, but he was taking his death personally. “James has no valuable contributions, as usual, but I’m not sold on this being David.”
“No?” Mason’s voice held a note of irritation.
“I don’t know, boss. It doesn’t feel like your father. He’s a monster but a lot more elegant than guts and a bow on Christmas morning.” Victor wore a black suit that made him look like a secret service agent.
Mason’s fingers worked against his chin as he rose and placed a hand on the small of my back. He led me back to his chair and positioned me on his lap. “Historically, I’d have to agree.” His lips puckered like he disliked the admission.
“An explosion isn’t like him either.” Vick’s eyes darted surreptitiously toward Mason like I wouldn’t notice him asking permission to speak in front of me.
“Don’t play fucking coy, Vick,” I snapped at him. “Whatever you think, all of you seem to know but me. So, out with it.”
Mason subtly nodded before Vick leveled his obsidian gaze at me. “I think Dan was playing us. I think he set us up at the port and gift-wrapped Gavin Wolfe for us.”
“Why?” Mason snapped.
“It may be at your father’s behest. It likelyis, but David Sharp is not the one pulling these strings. Your father would have put his head in a box with a crystal Christmas bauble sticking out of his mouth and a big gold bow. It would have been neat, bloodless, fucking terrifying. He would never dothat.” Vick jutted his chin toward the driveway.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Mason murmured, much to my shock.
“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded, too tired and confused to try and pretend to be anything else.
“It means that, as well as taking out my father, we need to kill Daniel. We do not know how much control my father has over his actions now, and we may have two distinct enemies intent on ending us, or at least two combined enemies intent on ending us.”
“Why would he do this to you?” The question was rhetorical and not meant to slip out.