Chapter 23
Question…?
Kane
Am I asking her questions I already know the answers to? Yeah. But I want to hear it from her.
The more she talks, the more I realize it’s not just about confirming what I already know. It’s the way she lights up when she talks about things, even when she tries to play it off like it’s nothing. She feels everything deeply, that much is clear. Even when she doesn't want to.
And fuck if I don’t want to keep pulling more of that out of her.
The second I saw her text, everything else became irrelevant. I may or may not have broken a few speed limits getting here. Good thing I know the cops. But for those few minutes, when I didn’t know what the hell was happening, something in my gut twisted tight.
I don’t know what I expected when I pulled up, but seeing her standing there, safe, was enough to pull me back from the edge.
This should’ve been the perfect moment to tell her, since I had her all to myself. Timing’s everything, or so they say. But when is the right time? Because the longer I wait, the more this game we’re playing twists into something else.
She keeps looking at me and licking her lips. What am I supposed to do with that?
Fucking hell.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, keeping my gaze locked on the road, because if I look at her right now, I’ll forget every reason I have not to touch her.
Before I can gather my thoughts, she suddenly gasps. “I love this song!”
She leans over, cranking up the volume. Before I know it, she’s singing, seatbelt be damned, completely lost in the moment.
My grip on the wheel tightens because it’s either that or pulling over and doing something I absolutely shouldn’t.
She has no idea I’m sitting here, gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles go white, trying not to let the low hum of her voice and the way she moves make me lose what little restraint I have left. Is this girl for real?
Her laughter breaks through the moment as the song ends and I drag in a slow breath, forcing my focus back on the road.
The conversation drifts, but I'm not listening to her words—I'm watching her. The way she scrunches her nose when she’s thinking, how her hands cut through the air when she's excited, and the spark in her eyes when she forgets to cage herself. Every slip, every tell…I don't miss a damn thing.
She has no idea how easy she is to read.
I shift in my seat, adjusting against the very real problem I’m having. Thank fuck she’s still looking out the window. If she knew, she’d never let me hear the end of it.
By the time we pull up to her place, I’m somehow both relaxed and more wound up than I’ve been in years.
I take a slow breath, forcing myself to pull it together before turning to her. “Have a great day, kid,” I flash her a grin, hoping the reminder of how young she is will calm me the fuck down.
Her head snaps to me so fast I barely hold back a laugh.
She glares at me, folding her arms. Her expression darkens into something deadly, and fuck me if that look alone doesn’t undo me all over again.
“Kid? How old are you, anyway?”
“That is a question for another day, Princess. I have to go back to work.”
Her lips press together into the slightest pout, and I swear to God, I might actually lose my mind.
“Guess that means you’ll have to keep talking to me if you want to find out.”
She huffs, glaring at me, but there’s the faintest hint of a smile as she reaches for the handle.
“Don’t you dare touch that door.” I snap.
She freezes, looking back at me, parting her mouth in surprise.
“Good—” Fuck. I stop myself, snapping my mouth shut on the word like it betrayed me. My jaw stays locked as I push open my door and step out, keeping the rest buried where it belongs.
I need a second to breathe.
Praying she won’t ask what I was about to say, I run a hand down my face, trying to collect myself. Every muscle in my body feels wound tighter than a spring as I walk around to her side, forcing myself to just open the goddamn door and drive away.
I pull the door open, extending a hand and our eyes lock as her fingers slip into mine. Her grip is firm but careful as she steps out, avoiding a puddle with effortless grace.
Her fingers linger just enough to test my patience.
“See ya later, Princess.” Thank fuck my voice is steady even though everything in me is anything but.
She waves over her shoulder with that knowing little smile gracing her lips and I watch until the door closes behind her.
As soon as I step inside, the smell of food hits me. My stomach clenches, a not-so-subtle reminder that I skipped lunch today.
“Long day at work, honey?” Cam’s voice carries from the kitchen, and I can hear the amusement in his tone.
“Fuck you. But aye, it was.” I drop my keys on the counter with a clatter.
He laughs, barely holding it together. “You’ve been trying for years, but no means no, pal.” He waves a spatula at me like a weapon, his grin downright smug.
I shake my head as I head to my room. Funny thing is, Cam could probably kill a man with that thing and make it look easy.
He’s lethal in more ways than one. But right now, with a smudged apron tied around his waist and a streak of flour across his cheek?
He looks more like someone’s frustrated housewife than a trained operative.
“Nice apron,” I call over my shoulder, laughing as I shut the door behind me.
His muffled retort follows, something about me being jealous of his culinary skills, but I’m already peeling off my shirt. I need to shower before I deal with him and whatever he’s made.
I’m past cold showers at this point. That ship sailed long ago.
Stepping under the scalding water, I let the heat work into my muscles, rolling my shoulders as I exhale. The weight of the day slips down the drain, but the tension knotting my stomach refuses to go anywhere.
The second her face flashes in my head, I see her on her knees—mouth parted and breathless, glaring up at me but waiting for my next command.
Before I can stop myself, my hand wraps around my cock. A groan rips out of me, drowned under the pounding water. I brace my other hand against the shower wall, clenching my jaw. My hand drives faster, and each stroke is a surrender I swore I wouldn't give her.
She’s probably never had a man actually give her exactly what she needs.
My muscles coil tighter at the image of her wrecked and moaning around me like she was made for it.
Fuck.
The release tears through me, every muscle locking tight before I finally let go. I catch myself on the tiles, dragging in a breath while my pulse slams against my ribs.
I laugh dryly, shaking my head at the mess I’ve become.
It’s probably for the best that I’ve got a mountain of work to prep for. It's time to get my head back in the game, because this? This is a distraction I can’t afford to indulge.
Throwing on fresh clothes, I head into the kitchen, relieved to see that dinner is ready. Cam is still in that ridiculous apron, and the sight immediately puts a grin on my face. I pull out my phone, ready to snap a blackmail photo, but he’s faster than I give him credit for.
“Don’t even think about it,” he yanks the apron off before I can hit the button.
“You’re no fun,” I mutter, sliding my phone back into my pocket.
He leans back against the counter. “You look like shit. Did you handle that job without me, or did you decide to walk home?”
I grab a plate and start dishing up, shaking my head. “No, dickhead, I didn’t walk home. And yeah, it was an eventful day. I’ve got some interesting shit to share though and more info on a job I need you to do.”
“Well, this should be good.” He pauses mid-bite with his fork hovering in the air. “Do tell.”
As we dig into our food, I lay it all out—every twisted detail. By the time I finish, I slump back in my chair, and wait for his verdict.
He snorts, setting his fork down. “Let me get this straight, you’re losing your shit over Raven’s new work contact because he’s got a questionable record, or because you can’t stand the thought of her being around another man?”
I roll my eyes, unfazed. “Hilarious. What I found was enough to make me want to dig deeper. What’s the point of having our skills if we aren’t going to use them?”
He stares at me for a long beat, like he’s weighing something. Then his lips twitch, and before I know it, laughter spills out.
“I’m just giving you shit,” he grins. “But you’re down bad for our girl Raven.”
I shoot him a flat look, but he keeps going, shaking his head like I’m some kind of lost puppy. “Obviously, I’ll do it. Or was there something else?”
“No. That’s it.”
I exhale, pushing my plate away. The truth is, I know Cam won’t leave a single fucking thing unturned. He’ll find everything I did and then some. He’s got a way of pulling every thread until he has the full picture.
Cam grabs his plate, stabbing a bite of food before pointing his fork at me. “Good. Because if you keep digging, you’re liable to go full caveman. I’ve seen that look in your eye before.”
I stand with my plate. “Thanks for the analysis. Let me know when you’ve got something.”
Cam salutes me with his fork. “Anything for you, darling.”
“And I’m heading over to the estate later to deal with our friend. Meet me there in an hour.”
The bastard slumps forward, blood crusted at his temple, cracking where Cam laid him out. He’s been out for over an hour—an hour too long. I don’t have all fucking night.
The overhead bulb flickers, buzzing softly. We don't have cameras or windows down here, because it's not that kind of room. This one was designed to swallow screams.
Cam leans against the door with his arms crossed, looking amused. But I know better. He’s waiting.
I plant a boot against the guy’s shin and press, not enough to break it, but enough for it to wake him up.
The body always fights pain before the mind does.
A choked groan rasps from his throat as he jolts awake.
His eyes flutter in confusion, but then I can see the fear crawling its way in. He scans the room, sees Cam, then me.
His eyes widen, and he tries to fight his restraints. “I—I told you already, I don't know anything.” Pathetic.
I lower myself to his level. I don't give a damn, I just need him to believe I might. My voice is calm and controlled, which is shocking, considering how wound up I am right now.
“That’s not true, is it?”
He swallows hard.
Good. He should be afraid.
Cam steps forward, slow-clapping. “Impressive. Almost. Except we already know you weren’t working alone.” He shifts his weight, and his voice drips with boredom. “So make it easy on yourself and give us a name.”
The guy presses his lips together, like he's got something to lose if he talks.
I nod slowly, tapping two fingers against my knee. “Right. The hard way, then.”
He doesn't see my fist until it cracks against his face, snapping his head back. His yell cuts short when my hand closes around his throat. It's not hard enough to crush anything—yet. It's just hard enough to remind him every breath he takes is mine to give.
His eyes blow wide, I can see the panic bleeding through the bravado as his legs thrash uselessly against the chair. His pulse hammers under my palm, his body screaming even while his pride clings to silence.
I hold him there, waiting. Waiting for that exact moment the fight drains and the fear sets in.
His body jerks, desperate for air. And then, just as the void opens to swallow him whole, I let go.
He sucks in air like he's drowning. His cough rattles through the chair.
“You… you don’t understand,” he wheezes.
I tilt my head, patience hanging by a thread I'm seconds from cutting. My voice stays calm in a way a blade is calm before it cuts.
“Then help me understand.”
His gaze jerks to Cam, like he's reaching for the lifeline in the room. Wrong move. Cam doesn't save men like him.
His lips part, and I can see the hesitation bleeding through every twitch of his face. I fist his shirt and yank him forward until our noses nearly touch. His breath is shallow and sour with fear.
“Who?” My voice is quiet. Lethal.
His eyes dart to Cam again, and I tighten my grip. “Who?”
“The one with the bloodline. That’s why we’re here.”
What the fuck is he talking about? My pulse doesn't so much as tick, but every instinct sharpens. I glance at Cam—catching the tension in his shoulders.
What does he know?
I give him nothing but silence, let him choke on it until he realizes he's already lost.
Then I turn to Cam. “He's all yours.”