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“I know you think it’s easy, but this man, these people?—”
“Are just people.”
“Who have unlimited resources. What if you kill the only person who knows where this collection is?” Her eyes glitter, her chin rises, and she shakes her head. “Use me as the bait. Take the easy option.”
“No,” I say.
“It’s safer.”
If Jones wants something so hidden away, it can’t be a piece of art. And that means it’s fucked up. Dark. Wrong. Not easy at all, and I’m not letting her be bait.
“Not for you, Dakota.”
She steps up and starts to cross to me. “I want to help.”
“I work alone.”
“No,” she says, coming to a stop in front of me. “You don’t. You’ve got your super friends.” She begins to undress, and fuck, it starts to make me hard.
I’m the one who’s meant to play unfair, not her.
Christ, how the fuck could I ever get enough of her perfect tits?
I force myself to look up to her face and she’s wearing a smile. It’s sweetly dirty. It undoes parts of me. I can feel them unspool and tangle into something that beats and breathes on its own.
Then she winds her arms around me, rubs against me, and trails one hand down my arm. She tugs my hand, pressing it against that warm wetness between her thighs.
“Baby girl…” It’s a warning.
She ignores it. “I’m helping you need me.”
“I usually do work alone.”
I start to push my fingers into her and she starts to work my hand with her cunt. “But now you have me, Daddy.”
And fuck it, I do. For however long it takes.
Because there’s one other thing I know…
She’s going to want to do something crazy. I lost Fina, a war journalist, someone who grew up hard. Who was used to risk. Dakota isn’t.
I know she’s going to want to do something crazy.
I’m not letting her.
I refuse to. And if I have to kill everyone, all the Knights, betray what I went through hell to become part of, I will.
She’s that important.
Dakota is sweet, annoying, fascinating. She’s life.
She’s the hope at the bottom of an empty box.
I refuse to lose her from this world, too.
THIRTY-EIGHT
dakota
