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“I need to know nothing can blow back on you.”
My gut twists in painful knots. “That’s not the answer I want, and most importantly, it’s not the answer I need to be able to say yes to living with you. It sounds like an excuse.”
“It’s not a damn excuse. I’m standing here, right here, right now, telling you it’s bigger than that, Alana. It’s so damn much more.”
In that moment, it’s easier for me to believe he’s afraid of what I might learn than afraid of a real future with me. Maybe because it’s true. Maybe because it’s what I want to believe. “The part where I’m not the little girl next door anymore just doesn’t seem to compute with you, and maybe it never will.”
“No,” he says, “you’re not the little girl next door. You’re the woman I want in my bed every day when I wake up.”
He shrugs out of his jacket, and everything inside me screams, “Yes, please, let’s stop talking. Let’s get naked.” My sex clenches, and there is this need inside me for this man that has existed for what feels like my entire life. It’s pure craving, and that craving doesn’t care about heartache, rings, business agreements, or even living arrangements.
I reach for his silver tie and tug it free, the silk pooling on the ground as surely as I’m melting in my own high heels.
His hands settle possessively on my hips, scorching me right through the thin black silk of my blouse. There’s possessiveness in the way he holds me, the air charges around us, and my knees tremble with the intensity of what I share with this man. “God, woman,” he murmurs. “What do you do to me, and how do you do it over and over and over again? Tell me.” But he doesn’t give me the chance to argue the reality, which is much different than his version of who does what.
I blink back to the present and swallow hard against the emotion burning my chest. I love this ring. I don’t want to take it off. Ever. But the universe seems to forever divide me and Damion. How do we get by death and destruction? How do we end the cycle? Is it even possible?
Chapter Six
Alana
The vehicle turns, and I stretch my neck to the realization that we’re now headed down a two-lane road lined with trees, and I have no idea where we are other than somewhere in Jersey, or so distance suggests. And I don’t even care. I care about Damion. I glance at my ring again, still half living my memory. He’d been certain I would hate him. No wonder he so easily believes I do now.
Still hyperaware of Adam’s silent presence, I once again peek over at him. “Anything from Damion?”
His lips thin, and he shakes his head.
“I need to talk to him,” I say.
“I don’t disagree,” he assures me, but he offers nothing more. He doesn’t know where he is, but in my heart, I believe Adam will try to bring us together.
I breathe out an emotion-laden breath and give a short nod, turning away from Adam to glance out of the window without really seeing anything at all. Damion made confessions to me he thought I’d condemn him for, and I did not. He has to know nothing has changed. I snatch up my phone, but in mixed company, resist the urge to try to call Damion again and instead write him a text, relaying many of the thoughts I’ve had on this drive: I’m sorry. I have handled this all wrong. I wanted to protect you by ending your father. I was willing to throw myself on the sword to do so, and I knew you’d never let that happen. It wasn’t hate that made me turn my back on you. It was love. It is love. Please call me. Please.
I wait for a reply, and wait some more.
He doesn’t answer.
“I’ll need your phone,” Adam abruptly announces.
I blanch and glance over at him. “What?”
“We need to ensure you aren’t followed.”
“Isn’t it a little late for that?” I ask.
“We scrambled your location, but it’s not a long-term fix. This is.”
“Okay,” I breathe out, trying to take this all in. “Am I in that much danger?”
“We err on the cautious side of safety.” He offers me a new phone. “You can use this one. And before you let your mind go nuts over this, yes, Damion has the number.”
Air gushes from my lips, relief flowing through me. Ironically, considering it’s what I said I wanted, the idea of completely disconnecting from Damion is unbearable. With nerves fluttering through my belly, I hand Adam my phone. He opens it and messes with it a bit before he adds, “Your calls will be forwarded to your new line. Any call you make will look like it comes from your original line, but don’t make any calls. Not until we clear you.”
I incline my chin, and once the transition of phones is complete, I become aware of my racing heart, willing the beating to slow, to calm. But adrenaline is controlling me, and with good reason. The caution with which Walker is operating screams of something far more wrong than I believe there to be. Their actions speak of a real threat—one no one seems to want to share with me, or at least Adam will not. He’s made that clear.
Fifteen minutes later, we approach the property I assume will be our destination as it’s the only place in view. The house is a secluded, sprawling white mansion that stretches far and wide and is framed by manicured bushes and trees. “It seems like a big place to protect,” I murmur softly, comforting myself with the view of a couple of vehicles already present, either of which could have delivered Damion here first.
“It’s locked down,” Adam assures me as we halt, and he’s already opening his door.
