Chapter Twelve
I step into the kitchen with the guys, and she’s already there, sitting at the table in my shirt. It drapes over her thighs, hiding her curves just enough to make me want to strip it off. Two faint bruises mark her throat where my hand held her down while I fucked her into the mattress.
“There she is,” Beau says with a smirk, lifting his mug in a lazy salute.
She glances up and freezes.
Her eyes sweep the room, locking on each of them. It’s her first time seeing them without masks.
Caleb leans against the counter, dark hair tousled, black T-shirt stretched over his shoulders, and his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are darker, obsidian, and unreadable. Dangerous, even without a weapon in sight.
Beau’s the opposite, lighter in every way, with dirt-blonde hair and green eyes that hold a smirk even when his mouth doesn’t. Muscles cut under ink that runs down his forearm as he sips from a chipped black mug.
“They’re… hot,” she blurts, brows furrowing like it personally offends her. “You all look way too good to be assassins.”
Beau chuckles, deep and warm, but Caleb doesn’t smile, he just watches her, and me?
I watch them. Her. That shirt. Those bruises I put there.
I should be thinking about the next steps of the plan, but all I can think about is how good she looked screaming my name with a blade to her throat.
I feel her eyes on me as I get my coffee, heat crawling across my skin.
When I meet her gaze, something flickers there, not shyness or regret, it almost looks like fear.
The fuck?
I tilt my head, pinning her with it, but she looks away first and turns toward Beau. “So you all live here?” Her tone isn’t her usual sharp edge, it’s quieter, cautious.
Beau glances at me, waits for my nod. “Yeah. Our parents had more money than sense. When they died, we sold it all, bought this place… made it ours.”
Her eyes narrow. “All your parents died, or are you brothers?”
“We’re not blood brothers. Been friends since high school,” Beau replies.
I cut in. “We killed them. They killed our brother. We returned the favor.”
Her lips part slightly. “My parents were trash too,” she says softly. “I get it.”
Caleb pours more coffee. “Yeah, they killed him because his parents refused to scam the poor. After that…” He gestures around the kitchen.
Her eyes return to me. “And Eidolon?”
“It means ghost,” I tell her. “He’s why we hunt. We kill the kind of people who took him from us. Every job, every death… keeps him with us.”
She holds my stare a beat too long, not just on me but on the others too, and I catch the flicker. Her jaw tightens, her shoulders lock. She isn’t just listening—she’s slipping. Like she’s already pulling away, already deciding she doesn’t belong in what we’ve built.
Something shifts in her eyes, and she whispers, “I’m sorry,” before bolting.
“Tamsin.” The name tears from me, but she doesn’t stop.
I run her down in two strides and catch her before the hall swallows her. My hand clamps around her arm, pivoting her into the wall, my chest pinning her in place until the air between us is gone.
“What’s wrong?”
Her gaze darts away. “You—” She swallows the rest.
I grip her chin, force her eyes back to mine. “Me. What?”
“You really want me? This—” her hands twitch in the space between us, toward the closed doors and the sound of the others’ voices. “You already have each other. You’re a family. I don’t belong in it.” The words scrape raw out of her throat.
My jaw locks. “Oh, hellcat…”
I catch both her wrists in one hand and pin them above her head, her pulse racing against my fingers.
My other hand slides under the shirt draped over her, down her stomach, shoving her panties aside.
With no warning I thrust two fingers into her, curling deep until her gasp breaks against my mouth.
“This—” another thrust, slow and claiming, “—is mine. Only mine. No one else touches it. No one else tastes it. Mine.”
Her back arches against the wall, a tremor racing through her. “But what if—”
“I never had anyone belong so perfectly in this fucked up family.” I crush her mouth with mine before she can finish, my tongue shoving deep, matching the pace of my hand until she’s straining against me, wrists trapped, body caught between my weight and the wall at her back.
I break the kiss just enough to speak against her lips.
“No what ifs. Even if you tried to leave, I wouldn’t let you. You’re mine, and I’m yours to take. You belong here. You belong to me.”
Her orgasm tears through her fast, hot around my fingers. I cover her mouth with my palm, muffling the moan that shakes out of her, holding her pinned until the shudders fade.
“No one hears you come but me,” I tell her, my hand firm on her jaw, my chest still pressed hard to hers. I’m not letting her go. Not now. Not ever.
Felix isn’t like the others, he’s more guarded, smarter and connected enough to make every trace disappear.
“I tracked him for a year, it’s impossible to get to him,” Tamsin says, sitting in the chair in our tech room.
Beau smirks at her from across the table. He likes her here, says she calms me down. Truth is, if I’m not balls deep in her, I’m thinking about it. Every fucking second.
“Well,” I grunt, “he still has one weak spot.” I slide a file across to her. Page after page of glossy prints of blonde women with innocent smiles.
She frowns, flipping through. “Who are they?”
“His victims,” Caleb says, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes locked on her. He’s studying every flicker in her face.
“See what they all have in common?” I watch her hands slow as she turns another page and freezes. It’s Daisy. The one photo Beau was supposed to remove from the file. My glare cuts across the room sharp enough to take his head off.
“Blonde hair. Blue eyes,” she whispers. Her fingertip rests on Daisy’s picture and her voice shakes, but there’s fire rising behind her eyes.
No one speaks. I reach for her hand, and she exhales, the tension in her shoulders dropping just enough to calm my edge. I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”
Her gaze lifts, steady now. “So what’s the plan?”
“There’s an event,” Beau says, pulling up images of a riverfront mansion on the monitors. “High-stakes poker. Caleb will be at the table, and he’ll put down something Felix can’t walk away from.”
“And what’s that?” she asks, the corner of her mouth curling.
“You.”
Her smile vanishes. “Excuse me?” She stands, and I catch the flick of Beau’s eyes to her leg, where she usually hides her blade.
“She’s unarmed, Beau,” I grunt before he can open his mouth.
“Caleb will bet you,” Beau goes on, still staring at her hands as if a knife might magically appear. “He’ll lose. Felix loves breaking women. Having you against your will, and against Caleb, will be the only thing he can’t refuse.” He slides a bag toward her.
She pulls out a high-end blonde wig, blue contact lenses, tanning cream, and a short black-and-red dress with matching heels.
“Oh, this is—” she starts, turning to me. “Why is Caleb going instead of you?”
Before I can speak, Caleb grins. “Because if Felix so much as touches you, he’d be dead before anyone could blink, and there will be a room full of millionaires watching.”
Her eyes glint, and the look she gives me is pure pride. The shine in her eyes tells me she knows I’d slaughter a man for her, and she fucking loves it.
“Okay,” she says, slipping the wig on to check her reflection in the monitor. “So what happens after he wins me?”
“Caleb will tell him he’s got a yacht on the river,” Beau explains. “Felix will think he’s fucking you there. He won’t make it that far—”
I rip the wig off her head, my fist clenching around it hard enough to make the synthetic strands pull. “He’s not touching you,” I growl.
Her brows lift, that dangerous little smile tugging at her lips. It’s like my fury makes her happy, even horny.
I’m fucked.
I toss the wig to Beau without looking away from her. “We’ll be waiting. While I handle him inside, Caleb and a friend will deal with his security, and if he gets one inch closer than I want…” My fingers curl under her chin, forcing her eyes to mine. “…I’ll paint that mansion with him.”
I pull her into my chest, locking her here. “We’ll protect you, hellcat. I’ll make sure you walk out of it safe.”
She smirks. “I’ve killed two men all by myself before. I can handle it.”
I pull her tighter, my hand locking at the small of her back. “Not anymore. Now you’re mine, and don’t forget, I was already watching when you killed your first.”
Her smirk deepens, the kind that makes my hands itch to drag her across the room and fuck her against the wall until she forgets her own name.
“We’ve got three days to get ready,” Beau says, already sketching out Caleb’s new backstory: old money, spoiled, reckless gambler with a beautiful fiancée. The perfect lure for Felix’s appetite.
“Three days,” she repeats. “Mind if I visit my family, just in case—” Her words stall when she catches how all three of us go still.
“Of course, hellcat.” My tone softens for her, and I brush her hair back, slow enough to make her lean into it. “But you’ll come back, right?”
She hooks a hand in my shirt, pulling me down until her lips graze mine. “Always, my masked man.”
The kiss burns slow and deep. My arms wrap her up as if I could weld her into me.
“For fuck’s sake, get a room,” Beau mutters when we finally pull apart.
I grab the bike keys and stalk out, my boots heavy against the floor. Outside, the air is cool and wet with the smell of rain on asphalt. I swing a leg over the black beast, fire her up, and settle into the hum of restrained violence.
She steps out a moment later, my spare riding jacket hanging loose over her curves, helmet under her arm. Her gaze sweeps over me—black gear, gloves, boots, helmet on.
“You look hot,” she murmurs, almost grudgingly.
“You’ll look hotter in my bed,” I shoot back, taking the helmet from her and strapping it under her chin. My gloved fingers brush her jaw. “Now keep your arms around me.”
“Yes, boss.” The smirk’s there, but so is the heat when I zip the jacket closed over her chest.
She climbs on, wrapping herself around my waist.
I gun the throttle, and we tear down the estate drive, the city turning into streaks of light. She presses closer with every turn, every hard burst of speed. I take the long route, weaving through the main strip just to feel her clutch me tighter, her head resting against my shoulder.
By the time I roll to a stop outside her building, my knuckles are white from the control it takes not to bend her over the tank and take her here.
Upstairs, her place smells like her—candles, warm skin, and that perfume I tasted on her neck. Plants lean against the windows; the bed’s a tangle of sheets. Every inch of it is her.
She packs quickly, grabs her keys and faces me. “Twenty-four hours and I’ll be back.”
I grin, but it’s all teeth. “You’d better… or I’ll come for you, hellcat. I’ll drag you back to my bed, tie you there, and never let you leave.”
She laughs under her breath, kisses me once more, and walks out.
She doesn’t know one of our people will shadow her, someone she’s never seen.
She also doesn’t know about the tracker in her phone, or the second one in her car.
She can go, but she’ll never be out of my reach, and if she’s not back in twenty-four hours, Felix Foster won’t be the only one who bleeds.
When I get back to the estate, Caleb and Beau are sprawled on the couch, beers in hand.
“So, who’s following her?” Caleb asks with that shit-eating grin.
“Lucien.” I spit the name out as I grab a cold beer from the bar. Beau stiffens, and I clock it immediately.
“You good?” I smirk over the rim of the bottle.
He flips me off. “Why Lucien?”
“Because he’s a fucking beast. Built solid, hands that could crush a skull without breaking a sweat, and the only one, besides you two bastards, that I trust to keep her safe.” I take a slow sip, watching Beau’s glare burn a hole through me.
Caleb chuckles. “You should just ask him out.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Beau mutters, but the color creeping up his neck gives him away.
“I don’t think he’s into—” He cuts himself off, eyes sliding away.
“Men?” Caleb finishes, softer now and Beau gives a quick nod.
The thing is, I’ve seen the way Lucien looks at him, a predator watching prey that keeps daring him to pounce. Beau’s wrong.
I check my watch. “Dane should be here soon.”
They both nod, and Beau gets up to spread the map and files across the table with all the layouts, guard rotations, and background dossiers. Everything Caleb and Dane need to clear Felix’s security without a sound.
Dane’s ex-military. His sister vanished for four months, taken by her abusive boyfriend. Nobody could find her… until he stumbled onto our dark web site; he wanted a detective who’d break the rules but instead he found us.
We brought her back in a month… and gave him the boyfriend tied to a chair in our basement. He kept the man alive for three days.
Since then, Dane’s been one of us; loyal, efficient, and every bit as ruthless.
Now it’s three days until the event.
Three days until Felix Foster learns what it feels like to be prey.