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“That’s nice, Dakota.” I look her up and down. “Want to tell me why?”
“I don’t want to live in fear.” She lifts her chin, defiance bright as she stands near the door. “I hate it and won’t stand for it.”
I smile. It’s not a friendly smile and it lights something in her.
“Not what I asked,” I murmur.
“I know.” Her hands form fists. “I’m trying to explain. I was leaving, because better I go than you feed me some lie about how it’s best for me that we end this when we both don’t want to.”
Fuck, she hit that straight on. But I nod. “Nice that you can read my mind.”
“Just because we play doesn’t mean you’re in charge of me.”
She’s right. Just because we play doesn’t mean that.
Who we are means that.
Which slides right back to neither one of us wants this to end. We fit. And I don’t know what the fuck to do with that.
She’s too young. Too innocent—no matter what they did, she’s too damn innocent. Too sweet. There are tons of fucking words to describe her. Reasons why this won’t work. There’s what I do. Who her father is.
The whole world is saying this is wrong.
My body says it’s right.
No matter what I know.
“Think what you want, Dakota.”
“I will.” Her eyes narrow, and she’s so Smith right then it stuns me because normally I don’t see him in her. “Like I said, screw the fear. I want to do something good. I want to stop at least one person. I want to stop Trent.”
“I’m pretty fucking sure Jones is in line for that. When he gets whatever it is in Arizona.” I want to kill the prick, but as long as she’s safe… “Do you know where it is?”
She shakes her head. “All he said is he wanted to show me. His collection’s priceless, legendary, and almost no one sees it. When I think back, he worded it to make it sound like displaying my art, but he meant me.”
What did she think? The guy would display a YouTube video of her? Of course he meant her, but… it’s another example of why we wouldn’t work. Another show of her innocence.
“He’s toast.”
“If he isn’t?” she asks. “If Jones can’t do whatever it is he needs to do? The man’s rich. Like super rich, Orion.”
“So are we. If Jones can’t or won’t, I’ll fucking take Eddington out.”
“He has an entourage. The one you thought was Brutus’s. There are a lot of the same people, anyway. What if he won’t tell you exactly where the gallery is?”
I don’t want to mention to her there are members of our society who are skilled in torture. Normally torture doesn’t work, but on him I think it will. If it comes down to handing over information, even an address in Arizona for his life, there’s no competition. He’ll give it up. Fuck it. I’ll torture him. I’ve done it before; I’ll do it again.
And if he won’t speak, there’s going to be a trail. People I can destroy and threaten. Places to go through.
I pick the palatable answer.
“I’ll ransack the gallery, all his known properties,” I say.
But her mind’s racing now.
“Maybe stopping just him and getting his secret collection won’t be enough. He’s got Brutus and others who probably do what Amelia and Haydyn did with me. Draw me in.”
And they’re nothing. They’ll go down. I’ll make them talk. “The word’s groom.”
