She turned slowly, a sleep tank in her hands. “What do you mean?”
I let my hand fall to gesture to her. “My conversation with him that first day he came here. At Brooks Street.”
She shook her head, her eyes shifted quickly as she tried to remember that day. “We talked about the Holloway house after you met with him. I met him, but we didn’t really talk about your conversation.”
“Shit, uh . . . it’s not a big deal.”
She laughed softly, hesitantly. “Your manager’s worried I’m a distraction, and your bandmate glares at me. Right, not a big deal.”
I closed the distance between us and pulled her close, letting her tank fall to the floor. “It’s not. Really. It doesn’t matter what they say. What matters is that you’re home and wearing this.” I ran the tips of my fingers down her chest and over her waist, gripping tight when I reached her hips. “And I need to spend some time taking it off you and tasting you.”
Her face lightened and her laugh filled the room when I led her toward the bed. “Is that so?”
I answered her with a searing kiss.
Libby
I PRESSED A KISS TO Maxon’s bare chest before quietly slipping out of my room and down the hall the next morning . . . and found the living room filled with sleeping Henley boys again.
“I’m ready for you to move to Holloway,” I grumbled as I stepped over Lincoln’s sleeping form on my way to Einstein’s room.
I was used to living with a lot of people, thanks to Dare and mafia life. So I didn’t mind having the boys in my space.
Just not every night, especially when I could practically feel Jared’s resentment, even when he slept. One more snide comment, and I was sending him back to a hotel.
I came to a sudden halt when I opened Einstein’s door. Her room was empty.
Again.
I wasn’t sure where she spent her nights when she wasn’t sleeping here, but for her sake, I hoped she knew what she was doing.
With a defeated sigh, I shut her door and headed to the kitchen.
Einstein wasn’t like me—never had been.
She couldn’t have meaningless sex. Not when her heart was already too invested in a man who was just as invested in her. But she had her mind set on destroying her heart in order to protect it.
Maverick was made for Einstein just as Maxon was made for me.
After Johnny’s death, she’d briefly accepted Maverick’s comfort before pushing him away.
I think she’s afraid of what would happen to her heart if she let herself love someone again—only for them to be taken from her. She’d already lost too many people.
But I knew Einstein. I saw the pain she couldn’t hide fast enough when she hurt Maverick.
Not that it would stop her from doing anything to make Maverick believe he meant nothing to her.
Maxon and I had been different.
Everything I had done was to keep him safe . . . alive.
I’d kept him at an arms-length and refused to let go. All while loving him as fiercely as possible every moment we stole away together.
I destroyed my heart to protect us.
I reached for the coffee maker and put a filter and grounds in the basket, then turned to fill up the pot with water.
My blood ran cold and my stomach dropped.
The apartment shifted and I struggled to stay upright.
There, propped against the faucet, was a thick, plain white envelope.
I stared at it for countless moments before my head whipped around, searching what parts of the apartment I could see from where I was standing.
But there was no one.
Just me.
The sleeping boys.
And the envelope.
I slowly stepped forward and set the coffee pot on the counter next to the sink, and shakily reached out to grab the envelope. Sucking in a deep breath, I flipped it over and tried to contain the full-body tremors that rolled through my body when I saw the printed name on the bottom right corner.
Elizabeth Borello.
I carefully worked the top open, my gaze darting up to make sure no one was waking or watching me, and tried to swallow past the sudden lump in my throat when I saw the top of a Polaroid picture peeking out.
But like before, I didn’t understand what I was seeing.
Not at first anyway.
Then a cry left my lips that sounded like a siren in the weighted silence pressing down around me.
Because that was me in the picture.
Sleeping in my bed.
Maxon lay shirtless beside me, holding me close.
That shirt engulfing me? It was his. I’d pulled it off him last night . . .
And I was still wearing it.
On the bottom of the Polaroid, written in Sharpie, were two words.
You’re mine.
I couldn’t process what I was seeing or what it meant. That photo had been taken within the last five hours. Which meant . . . which meant the person leaving me the pictures could still be in the apartment.
Shit.
I shakily shoved the picture into the envelope, then grabbed a chef’s knife from the butcher block. I checked the pantry and guest bathroom before hurrying to Einstein’s room again and checking it.
When I passed through the living room on my way to my room, I glanced at the guys long enough to make sure they were all breathing, then paused.
I turned, suspicion building and spreading as I studied Jared’s sleeping form.
“He’ll get over it. He doesn’t have a legitimate reason for blaming you.”
The first picture arrived the day Henley came back from New York.
Any of them could be playing a joke. Hell, even Einstein could.
Lord knew she liked to cuddle and Maxon was in her spot. And she could’ve slipped into the apartment and left before I woke.
But there was something about these that felt personal now.
Something that didn’t feel like a joke.
And I would know if Einstein had a Polaroid camera.
I quickly turned and rushed through the rest of the apartment, checking every place anyone could hide.
The dread in my stomach intensified no matter how many times I chanted it was one of my friends playing a prank.
Because this was clearly no longer just some jealous punk in Wake Forest.
You’re mine.
You’re mine.
You’re mine.
I returned the knife in the block and started the coffee maker, watching Jared for long minutes before forcing myself to my room to get dressed and grab the first envelope.
Once I was ready, I sat next to Maxon and gently shook him. “Maxon. Maxon, wake up.”
He rolled to his back and cracked his eyes, his hand moving to grab for me. “What time is it?”
“I’m not sure. Hey, I have a question.” I kept my voice at a whisper, but my tone bright. “Do you have a Polaroid camera?”
His head jerked against the pillow and his already heavy-lidded eyes squinted a little more. “What? They still make those?”
“Yes. So, I’m guessing you don’t?”
“No, I don’t even own a camera.” He rubbed a hand over his face then propped up on his elbows. “Do you want one?”
“No,” I said a little too quickly. I never wanted to see another Polaroid camera or picture again. “I was just . . . I thought I saw one in the apartment.”
“I don’t—” He looked so confused and half-asleep, I almost felt bad for trying to get answers right now. “Shit, I don’t know. I haven’t seen one. Didn’t even know they still existed.”
“Maybe Einstein knows.” I leaned forward to kiss him quickly. “I have to run an errand, so I’ll be back. I’m sorry for waking you, but there’s fresh coffee.”
He sat there, staring blankly, too out of it to ask where I was going as I hurried out of the room and the apartment.
And I was thankful for it. I’d been worried he’d want to
come with me, and I couldn’t afford that right now.
A few minutes later, I was pulling up to ARCK Investigations, the private investigating firm Kieran Hayes and his wife had started with another Holloway member after dissolving the gang. The place Einstein worked at when she wasn’t working for my brother.
For all the bad I said about Kieran Hayes, I had to be fair when I said he did a lot of good for others.
This business had been started with the intention of helping those who couldn’t help themselves. Sure, they did the typical P.I. things, but their main operation was helping women start over if they were trapped in dire situations.
That’s where Einstein came in. She could create flawless new identities and fabricate lives for those women and their children in her sleep.
ARCK didn’t promote this part of their work, but word still got around to those who needed the help.
Like I told Maxon . . . terrifying to be in the same room with, but he was one of the good ones.
His business partner, Conor, was the best of the best. Sure, he had been Holloway and was just as terrifying, but he was a giant teddy bear. We’d already tried to adopt him and make him and honorary Borello.
I was here to see him.
Because if anyone could and would help me with my Polaroid problem without snitching to Dare, it was Conor.
I pushed a calming breath from my lungs and got out of my car.
I breathed a little easier when I glanced around the parking spaces out front and didn’t see Einstein’s car, but that didn’t mean much.
As soon as I stepped into ARCK, a smile crossed my face when I saw the man tapping away at a computer near the back of the room.
Over six and a half feet tall. Terrifying. And a boyish grin on his handsome face when he looked up and saw me walk in.
I stayed pressed against the front door and kept my voice low. “Kieran here?”
Conor’s grin faltered. “No.”
“Einstein?”
He lifted his hands out and looked around. “It’d be nice if she came in once in a while.”
My relief was met with unease. It’d be nice to know that she wasn’t out ruining her life.
“Anyone here at all?”
“Should I be hurt?” he asked gruffly.
A breath of a laugh left me as I pushed from the door and walked to his desk. I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead, then sat on the corner of his desk. “Don’t hate me.”
His face fell. “Shit, first you come in here with those questions then follow them up with that?”
I let my amusement fade to show him an ounce of my fear. “I need help, Conor.”
He transformed in an instant.
The man sitting in front of me was no longer the massive teddy bear I wanted to make my little brother . . . he was a giant. A mobster who had seen true evil and lost too much—including his own brother. And there was nothing that would stop him from protecting those who needed protection.
“What happened?”
I took the envelopes out of my purse without hesitation. “These were left for me at my apartment over the last few days. One outside, one inside. I need to know if there are any fingerprints on them that aren’t mine. DNA . . . I don’t know what you can do. Just anything.”
Conor’s eyes flashed to mine before going back to the envelopes, his stare missing nothing as I took the pictures out and laid them on his desk.
I turned over one of the envelopes and tapped on the printed name to draw his attention to it, then tapped on the picture left for me this morning. “This was taken sometime after I got home from work last night around three and left for me propped against the kitchen faucet.”
The muscles in his jaw twitched, but other than that, there was no indication he was bothered by what he saw. I knew he wouldn’t show his emotions.
This was now a job, and his focus would be on it one hundred percent until he completed it. Emotions got in the way.
“You slept through someone taking this?”
My expression answered for me. I clearly had, and I was embarrassed for it.
People from our lives shouldn’t relax enough to sleep through a stranger in their room—let alone the sound of a Polaroid camera.
But I’d been in my safe place.
Destruction could rise up around me, and I would remain blissfully unaware as long as I was in Maxon’s arms.
“What’s your boyfriend’s name again?”
“Maxon.”
Conor dipped his head in a nod. “He didn’t take these? Or one of his friends?”
“He’ll get over it. He doesn’t have a legitimate reason for blaming you.”
I ignored the second question, knowing I couldn’t answer it honestly.
Knowing I didn’t want to answer it.
“Maxon didn’t even know Polaroid cameras still existed, and he doesn’t know about these.” I caught Conor’s eye and said, “No one else knows. They can’t know.”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Einstein could do this better and faster.”
“She’ll tell Dare, and if he knows . . .” My shoulders sagged. “He can’t know, Conor. No one can.”
“Libby, if you were a stranger, I wouldn’t blink at that. But this is you. I have to know why. Your family could take care of this before it could become a bigger problem, and from how much the pictures escalated from the first to the second, it will become a bigger problem. Kieran and I could take care of this in a heartbeat if you let me tell him.”
I shrugged helplessly. “Because everyone except you will tell Dare. If Dare knows, he’ll do what he used to whenever there was a massive Holloway threat. He’ll put us all in one house until the threat’s gone. If that happens, my mom will find out.” I choked on the next words that almost broke free, then carefully said, “My mom has always been sure an old enemy was coming. And I need to know if these pictures are in fact from them before I tell anyone. Because they might just be from one of Maxon’s jealous fans who thinks they can scare me.”
Conor stared at me for a few seconds before asking, “And you don’t think you could tell him?”
I swallowed thickly and tried to force the tears away, but soon Conor and the office were blurry. “No. Because if it is the enemy my mom worries about, then I need to protect Maxon. If he knows what’s happening, he won’t let me do that.”
“Libby . . . who’s your mom worried about?”
“Dare and Mom know. That’s more than enough.” I let my hand hover over the pictures and said, “I just need your help, Conor. Please . . . please look. Look for anything that could tell me who’s doing this. Then we can either put an end to it, or I’ll tell you exactly what we need to be worried about.”
He growled, “Your brother’s gonna fucking kill me.”
A soggy laugh left me. “Story of my life.”
Him
I GLARED AT MY COUSIN when he came into my office, coffee in hand and tie loosened. “You look hungover. Did you even sleep?”
His lip curled before he took a long drink. “Hard to when I was doing your bullshit errands all weekend. Lucky for me we don’t have meetings today.”
“Bullshit?” I asked in a deceptively soft tone, challenging him to confirm what he’d just said.
“Bullshit,” he repeated without hesitation as he dropped into one of the chairs.
He didn’t blink when I took a gun out of my drawer and set it on the desk, barrel facing him.
“This company is just as much mine as it is yours,” he said on a low growl. “I don’t have time to keep doing this shit for you. Consider checking on her yourself more than once every few years. Then we’ll see who’s walking in here looking like this.”
“I own her, there’s no need. And I have people like you to watch her every move.”
He rolled his eyes and huffed.
I leaned forward and dropped my tone. “I don’t care if you’re an equal partner. I’m next in line
. I say fetch, you say what. I tell you get me information, you say yes, sir.”
“Oh, fuck off.” He barked out a frustrated laugh. “You and your old man sit on your goddamn thrones giving orders and keeping your hands clean. Our name is revered because of me—because of the rest like me. We keep people in line. We keep fear in their hearts.”
“You’re expendable.”
“You sure about that?” His tone was cool and unaffected as he set his gun near mine, facing me.
I stared at the firearm for a second and gave a brief nod, then went back to reading over the reports on my new computer screen.
“From what I can tell, this Maxon isn’t leaving. He’s here to stay.”
Rage erupted in my chest instantly, but I didn’t let it control me. My fingers paused above the mouse for a few seconds before I resumed scrolling through the report. “For your sake, I hope you have more than that.”
“All that I’ve learned about him, we already knew from the article.” He sighed when I shot him a look. “Again, you can check on her yourself.”
I was in the process of building my empire. I was preparing to take over a family.
I didn’t have time to check on Elizabeth. To dote on her.
I saw her when it was necessary. When I thought she needed to remember what it felt like to belong to me.
Besides, I was trying to prevent a war by staying hidden from her family. And I enjoyed the game we played.
The one where she believed she was free. All the while I was in the shadows, killing off her betrayals and feeding off the memory of her screaming my name like a goddamn drug.
But in all these years, she’d never done this. Never been involved with someone and thrown it in my face like she didn’t belong to me.
I considered myself a rational man.
This was pushing me too far.
“I want Maxon James taken and killed immediately.”
I thought my cousin was going to choke on his coffee. “What about the timeline? Nine months between when she sleeps with the guy and when we kill him. Nine months. Always.”
“That timeline is for the random men she fucks,” I yelled, slamming my hands on the desk and smashing the mouse. “She has a type. Men who roll into town that she doesn’t know. Men she will never see again. This doesn’t fit under that category, and I want him gone.”