Chapter 28
The Trickste r
T he skillet still hisses on the stove when I set the last plate down. Eggs, toast, a stack of pancakes so high she eyes them like they might collapse.
It’s too much for two people, but I like watching her fight through every bite I put in front of her. Like every forkful is proof she’ll take what I give, even when it’s too much.
Eve tears a strip of bacon, lips shining with grease, eyes narrowed on me like she’s trying to decipher the catch. “What’s the occasion?”
“Does there need to be one?”
Her mouth curves, not quite a smile. “With you? Yes.” She quickly demolishes another two slices. “Pancakes and bacon would’ve done wonders for my mood two mornings ago—when I spent hours scrubbing paint out of places it had no business being.”
I just grin, still remembering how annoyed she got when I refused to help her. What can I say, I loved that small fleck of orange paint on her ass.
After taking a sip of her coffee, she grimaces. “What the hell? This is not nearly as good as the delicious goodness you left for me to wake up to while you were gone.”
Just as I’m about to ask her what the hell she’ s talking about since I never left her any coffee, my phone buzzes across the counter. Nick’s name flashes across the screen, and the air curdles, the easy rhythm of the morning snapping like a bone under pressure.
“Don’t tell me you called because you can smell the bacon all that way at—”
My brother’s voice is clipped when he interrupts me. “Someone burned down one of our fucking hotels.”
“What?”
“Did you not hear me? I’ve already spoken with the three, and they swear they haven’t heard anything.” He pauses long enough to snap at someone for spilling something on the floor. “I hate asking, Jack. But—”
“Fuck you,” I snarl, the rot already spreading, coiling under my ribs like it’s looking for a way to split me open. “I know what you’re about to fucking ask. And no, I haven’t done anything that would get anyone to attack our properties.”
He exhales audibly. “Sorry, but…” Luckily, he doesn’t spell out the many ways I’ve fucked up over the years.
I’ve previously gambled hotels away like it was Monopoly and not backroom poker. So it makes sense he’d want to ask me. Especially when his infamous three crime lords of NYC haven’t heard rumors or whispers about a new player on the scene.
But it’s still fucking offensive—like he can’t see the monster straining at the leash, foam on its mouth, teeth aching for flesh. And I’ve kept it there, barely, without letting it tear free.
“Want me to go check it out?” I ask, looking down in surprise when Eve places her hand on top of mine.
Nick offers to meet me there, but when I explain I prefer to go alone, he just tells me what hotel before hanging up. In big brother language, that was both an apology and his way of saying he trusts me.
When I look up, Eve’s gray eyes pin me—annoyance sparking there, sharp enough to cut. “You’re leaving,” she accuses, and the unspoken again hangs in the air.
“You could come with me,” I offer, surprising the hell out of both of us.
Fuck, I don’t know what I’m walking into, and t he last thing I want is Eve caught in the blast—her body wrecked where I should’ve shielded her. The mere thought of something happening to yet another woman in my life is fucking sickening.
She arches a brow, chewing slowly. “Really?”
I lean across the counter, my palm braced near her plate. “Really,” I confirm. “I want you with me.”
While it’s reckless and beyond stupid, it’s also needed. It’s becoming abundantly clear that I’m not giving up Eve. Fuck, I think I’m addicted to her. Sleeping next to her keeps the nightmares away, and every minute I spend with her feels right.
And that means sooner or later, I have to drag her straight into my world and let her choke on the smoke like the rest of us. Because the only alternative is letting her go, and that isn’t fucking happening.
“Okay,” she agrees, lips curving in a smile sharp enough to feel like surrender and defiance all at once.
“You need to promise me something, though.”
Her chin tilts. “What?”
“That you’ll stay at my side,” I growl. “No running. No tricks. No bullshit. You move when I move. You breathe when I allow it. Do you understand me, Eve?”
She rolls her eyes. “Anything else?”
My gaze softens, and I cup her cheek. “I’m not trying to control you, wife. But I can’t stand the fucking thought of anything or anyone hurting you.”
Her gray orbs lock onto my green ones as she swallows thickly.
“I don’t know what we’ll be walking in on. Could be fire, could be bullets. Could be worse.”
“I’m not a fucking damsel in distress,” she snips. “I can hold my own, Jack. Don’t forget what I told you about ending bigger monsters than you.”
“Damnit!” I roar, slamming my fist into the table hard enough for the plates and cutlery to rattle. “I don’t fucking care about your abilities. Don’t you fucking get that I don’t want anything to happen to you?”
“Why?” she shoots back, darting out of her chair. “Because you’re the only one allowed to hurt me?”
What in the ever-loving fuck has gotten into her? It’s like she’s dragging us backward, splintering every inch of progress until it fractures to dust beneath our feet.
“Say that again,” I demand, my tone low and dangerous.
When she presses her lips together, I’ve had it. With two large strides, I round the table and close the distance between us. I wrap her hair around my hand and twist so she’s forced to look up at me.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m not doing anything,” she insists.
I force myself to take several deep breaths, doing my best to calm down. “Don’t you get it?” My voice cracks raw, hoarse with restraint. “I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you, Eve.”
“Why?”
“Do you understand me, Eve? If anyone after me, or Nick, gets their hands on you, it won’t be quick. They’ll stretch it out, tear you apart piece by piece. And I’ll burn this fucking city to ash before I watch that happen.”
“Why?”
I snarl under my breath, beyond annoyed at the way she keeps repeating the same question. But as vulnerability sneaks into her expression, I finally fucking get it. Letting go of her hair, I wrap my arms around her.
“Because you’re mine, Eve. You’re my fucking wife, and…”
“And?”
“… I fucking love you. And that means if anyone touches you, I’ll silence them so completely the world will forget they ever breathed.”
A strangled sound escapes her as she throws her arms around my neck, dragging me down until her mouth collides with mine. The kiss is hard and bruising, all teeth and fury. She bites like she wants to wound me, like her mouth is the only weapon she has left.
I growl into it, my hand twisting harder in her hair until she whimpers against my lips. It isn’t soft. It isn’t tender. It’s a punishing affection, a collision of rage and possession so sharp it leaves both of us breathless.
When she finally drags back for air, her gray eyes burn, wild and wet. “I hate you,” she whispers, but her voice trembles like it can’t decide between curse and confession.
I bare my teeth, still fisting her hair. “No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t,” she agrees so softly I almost miss it.
“You love me back,” I rasp, low and certain, like it’s a verdict.
Her chest heaves against mine. She doesn’t deny it. She can’t. The silence between us is a vow, thick as blood, heavier than any admission she could give. Using my hand, I force her chin higher so she can’t look anywhere but at me.
The corner of her lip trembles, still swollen from the kiss, still painted with the taste of me. I could devour her all over again, sink my teeth into her until she remembers nothing but who owns her.
“You’re coming with me,” I say, voice flat, unarguable. It isn’t an offer anymore.
It never was. Her lips part like she wants to argue, but then she closes them again, biting down on the sound. Smart. She knows I’ll win. She knows I’ll drag her into the fire whether she consents or not, because I’ve already decided she’s mine. Forever.
Her fingers flex against my chest, restless, and finally she exhales, sharp and shaky. “Then I need to change,” she mutters.
My brow arches. “Change?”
“If I walk into that place in your shirt or anything Carolina brought from my place, I’ll look like a fucking target.” She tilts her chin, defiance sparking again. “Take me to my apartment. I have some clothes there I can wear.”
While she rushes to get ready, I text Ned to meet us at her place with weapons and the spare key. The things Eve left behind at the Sanctuary after getting into her wedding dress are all with Shelby, and I haven’t bothered to get them back yet.
Once Eve’s ready, we leave and head straight to her place. Luckily, there isn’t much traffic, so it takes no time until I pull into one of the parking spots in front of her complex.
“Eve.” Her hand hovers over the handle when I say her name.
Pausing, she turns to me. “Yes?”
“I meant what I said,” I clarify. “I love you , and I couldn’t fucking bear anything happening to you. Not like…” Like the fucking coward I am, I trail off instead of saying my sister’s name.
She swallows thickly. “I know, Jack. Nothing will happen.”
We use the stairs instead of the elevator. The climb is silent, heavy with everything unsaid. When we reach her floor, I jerk her back against me.
“What the—”
I slam my hand over her mouth and point at her apartment, where the door is wide open. My gut goes cold. Ned should’ve been here, but the hall is empty. Before I can decide how to proceed, Shelby struts out of Eve’s front door.
“Surprise!”
“You totally overreacted,” Eve accuses with a soft laugh as I let go of her.
“Eve,” Shelby calls out, her voice wavering. “Can we talk?”
“This really isn’t a good time,” I bark. I look behind her, to where Ned’s standing. “Are you ready?”
He gives me a sharp nod. “Of course.”
Eve does a double-take when she sees Ned, her eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she mumbles under her breath.
Ah, shit. I forgot she’s never officially seen Ned with me. Obviously, she knows he’s her neighbor, but that’s not the same as knowing he works with me. Or maybe she’d already pieced it together and is just…
I open my mouth to say something… anything. But Eve narrows her eyes. “I can only handle one fucking thing at the time. So we’ll talk about this later.” Then she sighs heavily and looks at Shelby. “I need to get ready. We can talk while I change.”
We enter Eve’s apartment, and while the women head toward the bedroom, I stay in the living room with Ned.
“Sounds like you’re in trouble.” Ned grins.
I smirk and nod my agreement as I sit down on Eve’s couch, propping one leg over the other. Looking around, I notice her mantle decoration. I arch my eyebrow as my eyes land on the plaque below.
Why so serious?
The unexpected show of humor should be surprising. But when it comes to my wife, not much surprises me anymore. The cold woman I thought I had figured out completely is nothing like that.
Not only has she taken everything I’ve thrown at her in stride, she’s burrowed her way under my skin and into my heart.
Should I feel bad about everything I’ve done to her? Maybe. But I don’t. Because the woman sleeping in my bed, making me ache for her, is nothing like the doctor I sat across from all those months ago.
There are still many things I don’t know about her. Like, why the fuck does she have her dad’s skull on her mantle? Why isn’t she pissed that she lost her business? I might like that she seems so… adjusted. But it’s unnerving at the same time.
In many ways, she reminds me of a reptile. Keeping still while waiting for the opportune time to strike, and that might be exactly what she’s doing. After all, I know she’s stolen one of my kitchen knives.
I guess only time will tell if she’ll make good on her promise and try to kill me.