CHAPTER 27 #4
Then he rose smoothly to his feet and adjusted his jacket, unfazed by the bullet he’d just taken to the chest. His gaze shifted to Maddox. “Take her to Gage.”
The reaction was immediate.
She went completely rigid in Maddox’s grip. “No.” The word ripped from her throat, panicked this time instead of smug.
Cruz’s brows lifted slightly, almost pleased. “Ahh,” he murmured. “So you’ve heard of our friend.”
Her breathing turned shallow and frantic. “Just kill me now,” she spat, though there was a tremor under the venom. “Do it.”
“Apologies, my sweets. But I have a lot more information to get,” Cruz said.
Maddox tightened his hold and hauled her upright.
She suddenly stopped thrashing.
For a split second, I thought she’d finally understood there wasn’t an exit here. Then I saw it—the subtle shift in her jaw, the unnatural set of her teeth.
Cruz saw it, too. “Maddox—”
There was a small crack between her molars.
Foam bloomed at the corners of her mouth almost instantly.
Her eyes widened, and whatever faith she’d been clinging to evaporated into something ugly and human .
. . fear. Her body jerked as her fingers clawed uselessly at Maddox’s forearm before her muscles seized and then went limp.
Maddox swore under his breath as he lowered her to the concrete.
The room went quiet except for the faint ringing still lingering in my ears from the gunshots.
Cruz reached down and checked her pulse out of habit, then exhaled slowly. “Cyanide capsule.”
I stared at her for a long moment, irritation settling in heavier than anything else. “Absolutely not,” I muttered.
Cruz glanced up at me.
“No one tells Gage about this,” I snapped. “His head is already too big. He does not need to know people are killing themselves just to avoid him.”
Maddox barked out a short laugh despite the body at his feet.
Cruz’s mouth twitched. “Fair.” He brushed imaginary dust from his sleeves like the pretty-boy prick that he was. Somehow his sunglasses were still perched on his head, even after getting shot. He glanced down at Saoirse’s body, then at Maddox.
“Get someone to crate her up,” he said. “Ship her back to Boston. I want her delivered to Cormac. Let’s make sure his wife sees her.”
Maddox grinned. “Should we leave a note?”
“I think he’ll understand,” Cruz said with a wink.
I checked my watch and exhaled. I’d lost twenty fucking minutes on this. “I need to get back out there.”
Cruz’s eyes slid to me knowingly. “Of course you do.”
Maddox smirked. “Oh, Eden’s out there. I should go meet her.”
Cruz clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a great idea, Maddox. I met her before this, and I think I need to make a better impression. I was a little distracted.”
“Absolutely not,” I threw over my shoulder as I pushed through the staff door and came to a screeching halt.
Why exactly was I hearing Lawson’s laughter?
I rounded the corner and stopped dead.
Lawson was sprawled in one of the velvet chairs, looking like he’d just returned from Hawaii in board shorts and a thin white V-neck. Eden sat beside him, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy, a half-empty champagne flute dangling from her fingers.
Apparently, she hadn’t heard anything suspicious.
Lawson lifted his glass lazily when he saw me. “To Jagger,” he toasted, grinning.
Eden blinked up at me like I was slightly out of focus. “You were gone forever,” she accused softly. “But your friend is so much fun!”
My jaw tightened. “Lawson . . . what exactly are you doing here?”
Lawson took a long sip, still watching me over the rim. “Cruz said we were having a party. So here I am.”
I growled. These motherfuckers were literally the biggest cockblockers in the world.
Eden’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh,” she whispered. “He’s doing the caveman thing.”
Eden had changed into a fitted blue dress Claudia must’ve talked her into—something light and dangerously flattering that skimmed her curves and made her look sweet instead of sinful.
It did not help my mood.
Cruz took one look at her—flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, champagne in hand—and then at me.
“Well,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders before I could evade him, “I guess it’s time.”
I went still. “Time for what?”
He grinned. “To officially welcome your girlfriend to the family.”
Eden froze. “His what?” she demanded, pointing at her own chest like she needed confirmation.
“Girlfriend,” Lawson supplied helpfully.
Her head snapped toward me so fast she almost lost her balance. “I am not—” She straightened, her dignity wobbling but intact. “That’s not what this is.”
I was suddenly warming up to this conversation. “Fair point. We might’ve skipped a meeting about labels, but we can fix that now if you’d like.”
Eden’s eyes widened, and I cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss before she could spiral into another argument. When I pulled back, she was breathing hard. “You can object to the label,” I murmured. “You don’t get to object to the reality.”
Her lips parted. Then she muttered, “We’re revisiting this when I’m sober.”
Behind us, Lawson lifted his glass again. “To the nongirlfriend.”
I shot him a look.
He grinned wider. “Now, let’s go party.”