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I huff out a breath.
I lost sight of Pe
Nobody is waiting for me to drop by.
This, right here, right now, is all I have.
I lean against the wall of the house, one foot cocked against the brick while I drink the last of my scotch and curse myself for the stupid decision to give up smoking twelve months ago.
I’d give anything for a nicotine boost right now. And more scotch. And less of a death wish.
The slam of a door brings me to my feet, and I turn to find a woman stalking through the living room. Another Torian. I’ve seen her picture online. I’ve read about her in the papers—Keira, the youngest member of the crime-riddled family, at least before Layla’s daughter, Stella, was born.
I cock my head, trying to hear the vehement words from the slim brunette, but I can only make out the vicious tone.
It’s a showdown. Unhinged Barbie versus Satan in a suit. Not that it’s a fair fight. Satan is entirely unfazed by the confrontation, while Barbie has blushed cheeks and disheveled hair, as if she’s trekked her fingers through the long, dark strands a thousand times.
I step forward, not willing to miss a moment of the theatrics, and slowly inch the door open. There’s the softest squeak of the hinge as her aggression batters the room, but she hears it, those rage-filled baby blues snapping in my direction.
She tries to stare me down, her petite frame so tightly wound I bet I could twist a stick up her ass and hear a music box melody come to life.
“Hey, sweet cheeks.” I give a derisive finger wave. “Don’t mind me. I couldn’t hear the drama outside. It’s much better from in here.”
Torian ignores me. He should know me well enough by now to understand I’m not going to stop being a smartass just because he’s got my balls in his fist.
He may own me, but he sure as fuck won’t control me.
“Who is he?” Keira’s gaze snaps to her brother.
“Decker,” Torian mutters. “He works for us now.”
She scoffs, the burst of menace turning into a bitter laugh. “And I bet he found out before I did, too.”
“He was there, Keira. It’s pretty hard to tell you about the incident before someone who witnessed it.”
“Don’t talk down to me, you smug piece of shit. I had to hear about a fatal shooting in my own family’s restaurant on the damn radio. And when I tried calling you, numerous times, all I got was your message service.”
“This is business. I had to make some calls before—”
“Oh, I know.” Her eyes narrow to spiteful slits. “I got in contact with ten people in between my calls to you. Ten people, Cole. And all of them had already spoken to you. How can you keep me in the dark like this? You’re risking my safety.”
“I’m not risking a damn thing.” His tone is sinister. “This had nothing to do with you. So, if or when I finally got around to calling, it would’ve been out of courtesy, not necessity.”
“Courtesy?” Those pretty ruby lips flatten into a straight line. Her jaw ticks. “Who are you, Cole? I don’t even know you anymore.”
He inclines his head. “It’s better that way.”
She retreats, her face crumpling as she wraps her arms around her middle. Moments of heated silence pass, the tension building while Hunter and I watch in avid fascination.
The woman has brass balls, that’s for sure.
As if hearing my thoughts, her gaze meets mine, those deep blue eyes shimmering with emotion, before she glares and focuses out the window. “Where’s Layla?”
“She went to get Stella from a friend’s house.”
“Under your instruction, of course.” She sniffs. “I bet you put her on lockdown, too. Are you the reason she wouldn’t answer my calls? I swear to God, since Dad left, you’ve lost your fucking mind.”
Torian takes a threatening step forward. “Watch your mouth. I’m growing tired of your bullshit.”
“Fuck you, Cole. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Can’t I?” In a flash, his hand wraps around her throat.
I shove from my chair, and Hunter follows suit.
She doesn’t flail. She barely reacts. Apart from the high tilt of her chin, nothing has changed. Venom still shoots from her gaze. There’s no fear. No retreat.
“Let her go, Torian.” I step toward them.
He gets in her face. “Pull yourself together,” he repeats, this time softer, under control, as he releases his grip.
She doesn’t whimper. There’s barely a sag in her shoulders. Instead, she seems to take his demand on board, pulling her crazy into check.
“I’m getting another drink.” Hunter starts for the kitchen, his leveled words and casual pace creating a calming buffer. “Who wants one?”
“Make mine a double.” Torian turns his back on his sister and grabs his empty glass from the coffee table.
Life returns to normal.
Well, as normal as this fucked up existence can be, but I can’t drag my gaze away from her. I can’t stop waiting for the moment where she weakens. Where she breaks.
She doesn’t.
It’s fascinating.
She’s fascinating.
She’s also beautiful and strong, yet obviously harboring the same death wish that has coiled around my soul.
Her rampant breathing lessens, the warrior vanishing, and a picture of vulnerable perfection takes its place as she glances my way. This time when our eyes meet, she doesn’t glare. There’s no menace or spite in her gaze. I see confusion in the deep furrow of her brow.
But most of all, I see appreciation.
I see her thanks.
And it’s the only reason I need to make me stay.