Page 38 of The Triangle

A top-tier sneak assassin, safe-cracking, diamond thief.

Telling Christine, “No,” is the same thing as telling her, “Yes, but not yet.”

She was always going to win. And if she had to walk away and give me space to reconsider what we are to each other, she’d do it.

And it wouldn’t surprise me at all right now if she looked me dead in the eye and said, “I fucked everything up on purpose. To get us all back together again. To make you choose one final time. Us. Or nothing.”

She’s just that determined.

And she’s patient too. So patient. It was the very first thing I noticed about her when we started working as a team before Alec showed up. She could wait. She could always see the long game. I never had to explain it to her.

It was the first thing I loved about her. That she could wait for the prize and put up with the agony of denial if it meant she won in the end.

Is this that end? Is this the last chance I’m ever going to get?

So I guess I have to ask myself an honest question.

Do I want to fight her? Lose her? Mourn the loss of her for lifetimes to come just because—as Alec put it—I was never good at sharing?

Is it even a concession at this point? I mean, as much as I tell myself I hate him—hate what he did to us, hate what he turned us into—do I? Do I really hate who I am?

Because that’s some bullshit, right there.

I don’t hate myself.

I don’t regret what we did. I don’t think back and say, I’d do all different.

And I don’t hate him either. I just hate the way he forced my hand. Because he was always ready for the next step. He was pushing it right along with her. It was always me drawing that imaginary line. It was always me who wanted stagnation.

But I can’t see the logic anymore.

She’s not a kid. I’m not a kid. And she doesn’t need me the way she did back then. I’m not her only choice. She’s got plenty of options. And one of those is Alec minus Danny.

And that… that I cannot stand.

I kiss her harder. My fingers—already threaded into her hair—tug. She hisses out a breath of pain and I remember her stitches. I loosen my hold but still force her closer, which isn’t even possible. Her breasts are already crushed up to my chest. Alec, doing his part on that end. Because he’s got her pinned to me. Both of his hands caressing her full breasts. His hips grinding against her ass as he nips her neck.

I am as aware of him as I am of her.

One day, I think absently as our tongues twist together, our mouths pliant against one another. One day I will look back on this moment and know—this is when it truly began.

Not back in that gym. Not back in the alley.

Here. This morning in my apartment. The cold seeping in from outside like a creeping arm of death and destruction.

And when that day comes—when the shit is probably falling apart all around us—I will finally take responsibility.

Because it’s me.

I’m the reason for everything that happens that day in the future. I’m the reason the world ends.

Because I’m weak with love for this girl. And if that means Alec gets to come along for the ride…

Fuck it. I don’t care.

I let go of her hair with one hand and find her hand inside my jacket. It’s warm now. Our body heat mixing together. Our blood heating up with the moment, or the reunion, or the potential danger hanging like a dreary gray cloud all around us. Who the fuck knows why we’re running hot right now. It’s just not cold, that’s all I know.

I drag it down and across my lower abs. Slip it inside my pants. Her fingers find my cock, instinctively wrapping around it.