She snorts. “Are you kidding me? Kayden has the place set up with Netflix.”
We enter the kitchen and I grab a couple of sandwiches from the fridge. “I didn’t know you could get Netflix in Italy.”
“This is Kayden we’re talking about,” she reminds me. “He’s got a way around everything.”
Translation: Matteo has Netflix magic in his fingers. Giada gets us bottles of water and we settle at the table to eat, planning a shopping trip together. Later we move to the living room, where she turns on the TV.
“I’m obsessed with Breaking Bad right now. Do you like it?” she asks.
“I don’t know it. What’s it about?”
“Good guy who gets cancer, and starts dealing drugs to take care of his family.”
The word cancer, along with Gallo’s warnings about Kayden being a “kingpin,” axe that idea for me. “Not my thing. Any chance they have Friends reruns?”
“Oh, I love Friends! And they do have it.”
She flips to the show and we alternate talking, watching TV, and playing tic-tac-toe for hours, and still there’s no word from Kayden and Adriel. By ten, Giada’s fallen asleep on the couch, and I’m in a chair next to her scribbling butterflies in my journal when my phone finally rings. Giada jerks to a sitting position as I check the ID.
“Hi, Adriel,” I say, disappointed it’s not Kayden.
“Come to the front door.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Just come downstairs. And bring your coat.”
“Where’s Kayden?”
“Just come downstairs,” he repeats irritably.
“What about Giada? She’s with me.”
“Just you.”
He ends the call and I frown.
“Well?” Giada prods.
I stand. “He wants me downstairs. Just me. Not you.”
“Nothing surprising there,” she quips. “That’s all he said?”
“Yes. That’s it.”
“That’s curious.”
“Yes, it is. I need to grab my coat.”
“I’m going down to talk to my brother.” She rushes away.
Uneasy, I walk to the bedroom and put on a black trench coat that is once again Chanel, which tells me there must be a Chanel store nearby. I pop another pain pill, grab my purse and cross it over my shoulder, and stop in front of the drawer I swore I wouldn’t open. For reasons I can’t explain, I’m nervous with Adriel again.
Where’s Kayden? His absence makes no sense. I’m worried about him. And I’m worried about me, too. I open the drawer and grab the gun, placing it in my purse and heading for the door.
sixteen
Nervous energy shoots adrenaline through me, and I all but run down the stairs to jab at the button to the dungeon door separating me from the main foyer. It opens and I cut under it before it fully rises, to find Adriel waiting for me by the door and Giada nowhere in sight. “What’s going on?”
“Let’s walk and talk.”
I wet my suddenly dry lips, noting he now has on a black jacket, when he’d left without one. He also killed two men less than a week ago. “Walk?” I ask.
“Yes. Walk. Cars are hell to drive in this neighborhood.” He opens the door, motioning for me to exit, and while he seems more agitated than dangerous, at least for the moment, my hand settles on top of my purse for easy access to my gun.
Moving toward him, I cross the length of the foyer and step onto the porch and into a chilly night, uncomfortably aware of Adriel at my back. I scan my surroundings for potential trouble, finding the castle grounds draped in inky blackness, thunder rumbling from a deep hollow in the sky, promising yet another storm. The door shuts and I face Adriel. “Where’s Kayden? Is he still in jail?”
“He’s been out for a couple of hours.”
The news is a blow, since he hasn’t called or taken my calls. “Where is he?”
“Getting wasted in a bar a few blocks from here.” He lifts his chin. “Let’s walk.”
Kayden doesn’t strike me as the “getting wasted” type. “Where?”
“To go get his ass.”
“I don’t think he wants me there.”
“Bullshit. You’re exactly what he wants and needs. Let’s go before he finishes off the bottle of tequila he’s working on.”
He starts down the stairs and I hesitate to follow, but the truth is, he’s baited me with his comments about Kayden needing and wanting me. Praying it’s a good choice, I dart down the steps to catch up to him in the center of the circular driveway. “You don’t even want me here and now I’m suddenly what he needs?”
“What I want and what Kayden wants often don’t align. But he’s The Hawk, and we need him to be strong and focused.”
I’m not sure how I feel about that answer. I’m not sure how Kayden would feel about it, either. “How far away is Kayden?”
“A few blocks,” he says, ending this stretch of our walk at the edge of a stone gate with heavy metal spikes and lights glowing at various spots. He punches in a security code to unseal the entry and faces me. “As for me not wanting you here, I did some thinking about you this afternoon. You’re making him face the demons eating him alive, and in my book, that’s a good thing for us all.”
He doesn’t invite a reply that I don’t plan to offer anyway, motioning me forward. I gladly move outside the property line and away from him, wondering why every action and word from this man’s mouth seems to be framing an agenda that might not be in Kayden’s favor. Is he as angry at Kayden as Giada? Is Kayden too blinded by guilt to see it?
Adriel joins me, shutting the gate behind us, and we begin walking through what appears to be some sort of town square with a giant, stunning church opposite the castle, and a few people milling around here and there. “This way,” he says, and we cut left and onto a lively, extremely narrow cobblestone street, with restaurants framed by cute umbrellas and various shops marked with signs. “It’s busy for a Monday night,” I comment, relieved to be in a public area.
“This area draws the college crowd and tourists. You should see it on the weekend.”
Tourists. Weekends. Small talk. I don’t have it in me. “What happened with Gallo?”
“He accused us of threatening him. Our attorney accused him of harassment, and his excuse for the extra attention was worry for you.”
“So the harassment you mentioned is because of me.”
“You’re just one of many tools in his revenge chest. He’ll use anything against Kayden. He hates him.”
I want to ask for a reason, but I stop myself. Already, Gallo has stolen Kayden’s ability to tell me about what happened five years ago when he was ready. It’s Kayden’s right to tell me this when, and if, he’s ready. Adriel glances at me. “You aren’t going to ask why?”
“No. I’m not. Did Gallo run my prints?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“That makes me nervous.”
“Matteo handled things. You know that.”
“You sound confident, but Nathan alluded to you two getting arrested to be there when he ran my prints.”
His jaw clenches. “Nathan needs to keep his mouth shut.”
“Is it true? Did you and Kayden get arrested on purpose?”
“Why or how we were arrested doesn’t matter at this point. What does is the end result. We didn’t get charged.”
“That’s good, at least.”
“And Gallo didn’t show his hand.”
“Oh. That’s not good. That sucks.”
“Everything about Gallo sucks,” he replies, drawing us to a halt in front of a door with a huge sign over the top that reads BAR, the sound of muffled music vibrating the walls. “He’s sitting in the back corner at the bar.”
“At a bar in a bar,” I say. “Check. Got it again.”
He waves across the street. “I’ll hang out over there somewhere in case you need an escort back, though I find that doubtful.”
He walks aw
ay, crossing the narrow street. I watch him for a few beats, and my unease with him just isn’t going away. Shaking off the thought, I turn to the door and enter the bar, to find a dimly lit room wrapped in brick. On a mission to find Kayden before I chicken out, I weave my way through clusters of tall tables with stools as seats and find him sitting at the bar as expected, with his back to me. I pause and inhale for courage, not sure how he’ll react to me showing up here. I take a step forward but halt as I have the uncomfortable realization that the gorgeous, big-breasted brunette bartender is not only in deep conversation with Kayden, she’s leaning over the counter, and giving him a healthy view of her cleavage.
My stomach knots with the certainty that she is his distraction from me, not a bottle of tequila, and it hurts, when it shouldn’t. We had sex. Just sex. That does not spell exclusivity or commitment. I’m about to turn away when the big-breasted bartender looks up, and for some reason her gaze lands on me. Adrenaline surges through me and I turn to flee, only to have a man step in front of me, momentarily delaying my departure. I cut around him, and manage all of two steps before Kayden grips my arm and whirls me around to face him.
“Let go,” I hiss, shoving against him, my chest burning with emotions, my palm burning where it’s landed on his chest. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
He grabs my other arm and pulls me to him. “Ella. Stop.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your . . . whatever that was.”
“It wasn’t what you thought. You’re hugely overreacting.”
“You’re right, and that only makes me angrier.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means I shouldn’t let you get to me, but you’re here with some big-breasted bartender, avoiding me, and I’ll just state the obvious. It upsets me.” I jerk against him. “Let go.”
“I’m not letting go. I told you that.”
“You don’t get to make that decision. I do. I do, Kayden.”
His arm circles my waist, bringing my hip to his, and he starts walking, forcing me to follow or make a scene we both know I don’t dare. My mind is plotting an escape, but there isn’t one. Far too quickly, we’ve traveled a short hallway, and he’s already opening a door and entering some room while taking me with him. “Rosa owns the bar,” he announces, pressing me against the desk and pinning me with his big body, his hips aligned with mine, his hands on the surface behind me.
“And you want to fuck her,” I say, oh so aware of his hard thighs against mine.
“She’s Adriel’s on-again, off-again girlfriend.”
“And you want to fuck her.”
“Holy hell. No, Ella, I do not want to fuck her.”
“You’re here, staring at her cleavage rather than being with me, and you smell like tequila. I guess that’s better than smelling like her.”
“That woman always has cleavage. I don’t even see it anymore.”
“You were here and not—”
“I know. I know.” His hands come down on my arms. “I wanted to be with you.”
“Then why weren’t you?”
“Because ‘this’—us—wasn’t supposed to happen.” Now he sounds angry.
“I can leave. Just let me borrow some money.”
He scrubs his jaw, looking tormented as he settles his hand back on the desk. “I don’t want you to leave any more than I want to be in this shitty bar right now.”
“But you are.”
“Because I don’t know how to protect you and be with you, but I also don’t know how to let go of you and trust you’ll be safe. And the honest fucking truth is I don’t want to let you go.”
My anger evaporates, my throat thick with the crazy emotions he stirs in me. “Then don’t.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Make it simple.”
“I can’t just make it simple. If you’re with me, you’re with The Underground, and it comes with risks that I can’t, and won’t, walk away from. Kevin maintained the values of the organization. I promised him I’d do the same when, and if, that time came, and it came.”
I reach down and turn his hand over, revealing the tattoo on his wrist. “Protector.”
“Yes. And that is the way I honor Kevin.”
“I admire you for that commitment, and it doesn’t scare me. I can handle it.”
“You think you can handle it.”
“I have a mobster chasing me. I’m not exactly living a life of roses and chocolate, with or without you.”
He studies me for several heavy seconds. “We’re going to fight.”
“Yes. We are.”
“We’re going to fight about my insane need to protect you.”
“I’m a redhead. I’m good at giving what I get.”
His jaw sets hard. “You say that, but after what you told me about that man—”
He hits a nerve, and my response is instant. “I told you. I don’t even know the person I must have been to let him treat me that way, and you’re nothing like him.”
“That’s not completely true. In his fucked-up way, he claimed he was protecting you. And I will protect you at all costs.”
“Just don’t tie me up and leave me and I won’t shoot you with the gun you gave me, like I most likely did him.”
“Sweetheart, if I tie you up, it’s about pleasure, and I’ll be right there giving it to you, but to be clear: I want you, just you, but you need to know that women and sex have been vices that have served me well, and now I’m focusing all of that on you. I need to know if you can handle it.” He leads me to the door, opening it and placing me in front of him, his cheek near mine as he whispers, “Let’s go find out.”
I swallow hard at the erotic challenge, and his hand settles at my back, branding me and guiding me forward. We enter the bar again, and I swear I feel Kayden’s powerful presence in every nerve ending of my body, anticipation burning through me. We pass tables, and random people, and I do not miss the way heads turn as he passes, the way he claims the attention of those around us as he does me. I cannot be alone with him soon enough—a desire sidetracked as two dark-haired men, one tall enough to be eye level with Kayden, the other slightly shorter, step in our path.
The taller one speaks to Kayden in Italian, and the only pieces of information I pick up are the names Enzo and Matteo. From there, the three of them have an exchange, and it’s clear to me the dark-haired men are Hunters looking to Kayden for guidance. The two men leave without so much as a glance in my direction, and I’m not sure if that’s because I’m considered just another one of his women or because they don’t think it will please Kayden. Whatever the case, he urges me forward and outside, and it hits me that he still doesn’t have on a coat, but is seemingly immune to the cold. I suspect there is far too much Kayden has been immune to these past five years.
“Adriel was waiting for me across the street,” I say as Kayden drapes his arm over my shoulder and we begin walking.
“Fuck Adriel.”
It’s a harsh, guttural statement that speaks of tension between the two men, and a shift in Kayden’s mood from sexy to troubled, even bordering on angry. “Are you okay?”
He stops walking and faces me, hands on my arms as those pale blue eyes of his fix me in an unreadable stare. “Do you know how long it’s been since I let anyone close enough to know or care to ask that question?”
I am not sure what reaction he’s looking for from me, if any, and I’m not blind to the honesty and vulnerability he’s dared to expose. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, my gut telling me he does.
“Enzo,” he says without hesitation, confirming I was right. “He’s a French kid that works for me. I let him take a job against my better judgment. He didn’t show up for the chartered flight from Milan back here tonight, and no one can reach him.”
This is his life. Danger. Torment. And it should scare me. It does scare me, but there is no denying that part of me is already too connected to this man to care. “
What kind of job?”
His cell beeps with a text and he digs it from his pocket, grimacing at the message, his gaze lifting to scan the area we’ve just traveled, his jaw setting hard. “We have company.”
I frown and follow his gaze, my lips parting at the sight of Gallo fast approaching. “What is he doing here?”
“According to Adriel’s text message,” he says, returning his phone to his pocket, “he followed us from the bar. I hope you memorized that file, because now is the time to get your memory back and shut him down.”
“I did. I’m ready. I hope.”
“You’ll do fine. Just follow my lead.”
“It’s almost midnight, Kayden. Why would he be here? What if he found the real me? What if I—”
“Easy, sweetheart. We couldn’t find the real you. He didn’t. And he’s here now for the same reason he was at the house at three a.m. last night. He’s on a mission to rattle me, and you because of me, it appears. Let’s show him he can’t win.”
“Yes. Okay.”
“Good. We’re going to turn together and face him.”
I nod, inhaling as we move, his arm casually draped over my shoulder again as Gallo stops in front of us, his hands in his trench coat. “Twice in one day,” Kayden greets him dryly. “Proof there is a God.”
Gallo smirks and focuses on me. “I thought you’d like to know the results of your fingerprint search.”
Nerves attack me from all directions, and I can’t seem to form words. Fortunately, Kayden has no such problem. “So you tracked her down on our date at nearly midnight. Ever heard of a phone?”
“A date after being arrested,” he gibes. “At least you have something to talk about.” He glances between us. “Why don’t we find someplace to sit down and talk? Unless you’d both rather invite me to the castle. Or I can pick up Eleana in the morning and we can chat at the station.”
Eleana. Is that sarcasm, or confirmation of Matteo’s success? My heart jackhammers with fear, but Kayden is oh so cool. “We aren’t going to the station, and I ran out of invitations to the castle. Lucky for you we’re standing next to a twenty-four-hour coffee shop. And since you were obviously following either me or Eleana, or both, and know we just came from a bar, let me preface your disappointment. I don’t do drunk and stupid, so don’t count on this going anywhere.”