Chapter 18 Theo
THEO
THE MOTHERFUCKER WAS mine.
It was only a matter of time now before I got my hands on the man who thought he could end my world. Who wanted to take his revenge not only on King, but every one of us connected to him.
But Alessio had come through, fucking genius that he was, and now we had a name and every last detail about Ari Moreau—or Aris Danforth, whoever the hell he was.
I didn’t think I’d stopped grinning the whole drive back to Shep’s place as I thought about all the possibilities of what I’d actually do once I finally came face to face with him.
He wasn’t a Libertine member I was overly familiar with, couldn’t even recall having an actual conversation with him.
Shep said he’d spoken with him a couple of times at one of our galas, but that he’d been someone who played under the radar.
In the mix, but never getting too close to bring attention to himself.
A familiar face, but a superficial acquaintance who was chosen because of investments he brought into our club.
Investments. More like stolen money.
I was so in my own head that I didn’t notice how quiet Shep was until we’d arrived at his building and his driver opened the door for us.
He was cautious as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, his eyes scanning everywhere, his hand close to the gun he’d been keeping tucked away every time we walked out of his place.
Always on alert and still my bodyguard, I thought as I climbed out after him.
I usually had my own weapons, but Shep had stripped me of those before heading to King’s.
I couldn’t imagine why. I was on my very best behavior, had even managed to squeeze an apology out of our leader.
That alone was a huge weight off my shoulders, because feeling like I didn’t have the trust of King or my brothers had shaken me to my core in a way I’d never fully let on, even to Shep.
But he knew. He always knew, just like I knew he’d retreated into himself after I volunteered as bait.
With the coast clear, he quickly ushered us inside, and it wasn’t until we were safely in his penthouse that I heard him exhale.
As I shrugged out of my jacket, Shep kicked his shoes off by the entrance and then stalked to the kitchen.
Oh, he was still pissed—and apparently giving me the silent treatment.
I didn’t do well with that.
Running my hand through my hair, I sighed and followed after him, preparing myself for yet another argument. Jesus, you would think I got off on those.
But Shep’s back was to me as he pulled a bottle of vodka out of the freezer, along with a stainless-steel shaker.
“Putain. I’ve driven you to drink?” I teased, trying to lighten the heaviness I could feel in the room. “Or was it King? He’s caused many a hangover for me.”
Shep didn’t say a word as he grabbed a large knife from a drawer.
“Have I driven you to murder too?” I said, shaking my head. “You can put the knife down and just take it out on my body instead. I won’t mind.”
He finally looked at me then, but the man I’d finally come to know so well had an unreadable look all over that handsome face. If I had to guess, he was feeling several emotions right now, the same as I was, and somewhere in there had to be a sense of relief that this would all be over soon.
Although that didn’t seem to be his primary emotion at the moment.
Shep grabbed a fresh lemon from the bowl of fruit and began to slice it, his use of the knife clean and sharp—and deadly. He tossed the slices into the shaker, added a healthy amount of vodka and the lid, and began to shake the hell out of it, much harder than he needed to.
I swallowed a groan and pulled myself up onto the counter beside him, forcing him to be in my orbit whether he wanted to or not.
“You have to talk to me, you know,” I said. “If you need to yell, go for it.”
Still shaking the vodka to hell and back, Shep cocked his head at me, those full, kissable lips set into a grimace that shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was.
I wanted to nibble on those lips, suck that delicious tongue into my mouth, and spend the night celebrating.
How did he not want the same? Were my lips just not as tempting as his were?
He could resist me better than I could him?
No. Impossible.
He grabbed a couple of crystal tumblers, poured the vodka into both—all the way to the very top—and then handed me one.
Hell, I supposed it was promising he was still sharing.
“What are we drinking to?” I asked, lifting my legs to wrap around his body and pull him in closer.
I kept him in a tight hold as I looked up at him, but to his credit, he wasn’t trying to move away.
Those blue eyes were full of a deeper emotion than just anger, and I bit the inside of my cheek as I waited for his answer.
“To being smart and staying safe,” he said, tapping my glass and holding my gaze as he brought the drink to his lips.
I sighed. “Shep—”
“Just drink.” He tipped my glass toward my mouth, and I swallowed back the lemon-tinged vodka. It was icy cold and refreshing, but he was drinking under an illusion if he thought this meant I was agreeing with his point of view.
“I think we should talk.”
“Now you think we should talk?” Shep pursed his lips and nodded. “Seems about right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged then moved out of my hold, walking over to the opposite side of the kitchen, where he leaned back against the counter and took my measure.
Usually I’d bask in his once-over, but the frown he’d been sporting seconds ago deepened, letting me know that whatever he was thinking wasn’t anything flattering.
“Shep?”
“It just means that we always seem to do the talking when you’re ready.
” He eyed me over the rim of his glass. “The other night when you were fuming over what we found in the locker, you wanted to drink, I wanted to talk—you won. This morning, you wanted to offer yourself up as bait, and I wanted to think of any other plan. Again—you won.”
“I didn’t realize this was a contest.”
“It’s not,” he boomed, slamming his glass down on the counter. “But it’d be nice to know you gave a shit one way or another how I felt about things.”
“I do,” I said, slipping off the marble and crossing over to him.
“Really?”
“Of course I care—”
“Then don’t do this.”
I shook my head, my own frustrated feelings beginning to surface. I understood where he was coming from, but I needed him to see where I was too. This was my chance to reclaim my power. To exact revenge.
“You can’t ask me that.”
“The hell I can’t.” He narrowed his eyes on me, his gaze roving over my face as though he were memorizing every inch of it.
“Do you know how scared I was when you were taken in Brazil? How fucking useless I felt? I was there to protect you, Theo. That was literally my only job, and I failed. Failed at keeping the person I love the most safe. And now you’re asking me to just sit on the sidelines and watch you serve yourself up to this guy on a fucking platter? No. I can’t. I won’t do it.”
There was a whole lot to unpack there. A lot of emotions filling the space between us, but all my mind kept coming back to was…
“You love me?”
“What?”
The confused look on Shep’s handsome face had me smiling as I closed the final inches between us and put my hands on his chest.
“You just said I was the person you love the most.”
Shep’s jaw twitched.
“You love me,” I said again, and this time I slid my hands up behind his neck so I could press my lips to his jaw. “You love me and you want to protect me, and that is hot as fuck.”
“Stop it, Theo.”
“Non,” I whispered, kissing my way up to his ear. “Because I love you too. So damn much. It was the one thing that kept me going when they took me. Your voice, your logic—you. I needed to get back to you. Was determined to get back to you.”
Shep turned until we were nose to nose. “Then why put yourself in danger again?”
“I’m not going to be in danger.” I reached for his cheek and stroked the stubble there. “You’ll be there. Our brothers will be there. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
“It can’t,” he said, turning fully then and reaching for my face, pressing his forehead to mine. “I can’t lose you, not again. I won’t.”
“No, you won’t. But this is also for you. He’s coming for you next, and if you think for one minute I’m letting him get anywhere near you, you’re out of your mind.”
Shep’s lips lifted as he ran a hand down my neck. “You’re right.”
“Well, yes, I often am, but, um…would you like to be more specific?”
“Your loving me and wanting to protect me—it’s hot as fuck.”
“Right?” I nipped at his lower lip and grinned. “I need to do this, Shep. I need to feel proactive in this fight. He’s always been one step ahead, and this time we have a chance to draw him out. We have a chance to be the ones in control. Don’t ask me to wait on the sidelines.”
“Pretty sure I already did.”
“True.”
“And you said no.”
“True again.”
Shep took in a deep breath then let it out. “So since you’re being stubborn about it, I only have one request.”
I leaned back to look him in the eye, unsure where he was going with this. “What’s that?”
“I’m going to be right there with you. Not in the shadows, and not in a car watching. If you’re going to be front and center as Prince of Monaco for the whole world to see, then I guess Shepard O’Neil Winchester the Third is going to make an appearance too.”
“I always forget the O’Neil,” I said, then winked at him. “Such a mouthful.”
“Don’t change the subject. Do we have a deal?”
I moved up to meet his lips with mine. “We have a deal.”