“Stop,” I gasp. “Stop now.” I shove on his chest. “Is this what you want? To hurt me? To confuse me? To punish me?”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“If this is you protecting me, then you might as well be killing me slowly and painfully. You’re the killer who loved me and left me. I guess I should count my blessings. I’m not dead yet.”
“You know I wouldn’t hurt you. I’d kill for you, woman.”
“Die for me, but carve my heart out of my chest? Those things don’t compute. Last night hurt me. The Dear Candace letter hurt me. You excel at hurting me.”
The doorbell rings and his jaw clenches. “That will be my men. They’re here to help us—”
“There is no us, Savage. That’s what you wanted. Just tell me what you need from me because we both know that’s why you’re here. You don’t just want to kill Gabriel. You want me to help you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Candace
Torment slides across Rick’s face, but after last night, I’m done trying to save him. The doorbell rings again and I push on his chest. “Just get this over with and tell me what you need from me.”
“Hating me is the safest thing you can do,” he says, and with that, he steps away from me and walks toward the front of the house.
I suck in a breath with the confirmation that he might be here now, but not for long. He’s done with me. He’s been done with me and this is the reality check I need. I need to be done with him as well. Determined to move to that place, I calmly walk to the coffee pot, fill a cup and add Splenda and creamer. Voices sound in the living room and I move in this direction.
I turn and lean on the counter as Adam enters the kitchen with another tall, brown-haired man by his side. Both men have on jeans and T-shirts. “Morning, Candace,” Adam greets.
“Morning,” the other man says, offering me a two-finger wave. “Name’s Smith.”
“Morning, and I’d say nice to meet you, but I don’t know if it is. However, you’re both welcome to coffee if you like.” Rick walks into the room, his eyes intense as they meet mine, and I add, “Savage made the coffee so I don’t promise it won’t kill you.”
Adam whistles. “Savage, not Rick, and an assassin joke. Ouch. I guess I know how things are going between you two.”
“There are three kinds of creamers in the fridge,” I say, ignoring his remark, and when they both move in my direction, I add, “Mugs are above the pot.” I head for the exit and the living room, which forces me to walk right by Rick. He catches my arm, heat radiating up and across my chest, damn him.
“Candy—”
“Candace,” I correct, meeting his stare, letting him know that I might be puffy-eyed today, but I’m fighting for me and my father today, not him. “Always Candace to you. And this kitchen is too small for all of us.” I pull my arm from his grip. “I’ll be in the living room when you’re ready to tell me what you want from me.” I hurry forward, somehow both relieved and destroyed, when he lets me go.
Me and my mug walk to the living room, where I find several soft leather briefcases on the coffee table. I walk past them and to the window, where I pull back the curtain and watch the rain fall steadily to the ground. Perpetual rain. The way Texas relieves the heat, but considering the simmering heat in my belly and the burn of my lips, there is apparently no relieving the heat Rick Savage stirs in me. Not even his promise to leave again.
“Good coffee,” Adam says from behind me.
I turn to find him alone, and settling on the big chair I love beside the couch. The one I’ve fucked Rick in a hundred times. I wonder if he’d still sit there if he knew that? I think I need new furniture. If I live through this, I’ll go shopping. “What do you need from me?”
“Trust,” Adam says. “We’re going to help you.”
“Amen to that,” Smith says, joining us. “That bastard can’t be president.” He sits down on the couch. “We aren’t letting that happen.”
“So, kill him and stop him?” I ask. “Is that the plan?”
“Kill him?” Adam laughs. “That’s not what we do at Walker Security. Unless they shoot first. Then we shoot last.”
I blink, thinking of several Walker Security signs at airports and military facilities. “I know that name. You do military contracts? And airports, too, right?”
“Our toes tap the water of many oceans,” Smith says.
Adam gives him an incredulous look. “Our toes tap the water of many oceans? What the fuck?” He looks at me. “He sounds like Savage and all of his stupid sayings. Did you drug the coffee?”