Cole(69)

“That was when you worked with horses.”

He nodded, breathing in deep. “Carter saved my life. I stayed away for five years until they found me. They fucked up. They sent four men and circled the car, like they did with Carl. I was with friends that day, normal friends who had no idea who I was. They died. I lived. I got out, and I killed the fuckers. Then I came back and killed more of them.” A hard glint appeared in his eyes. “I took back my place in this family. My dad was the head. Now I am.”

He stared hard at me.

“It’s not going to work,” I murmured, my hand still resting against his cheek. I rubbed my thumb back and forth, tenderly. “I should be scared off. I know. I should’ve been scared when I first saw you walk into Gianni’s. You and those men—I knew right away you were dangerous. And I should’ve been scared when I saw you in the elevator, when you were holding Carl up. He was bleeding. The blood itself is scary enough, but it never happened. The fear never came. The only thing that scared me was when I talked to you, when I felt how much you could affect me.” I smiled, faintly. “Still does, to be honest, but no. I’m not scared of who you are. I’m not scared of what you can do. I’m not scared what it means to be at your side. I’m only scared of how much I can’t be without you. That terrifies me, all the way to the bone. But I’m still here. I can’t walk away from you.”

A light entered his eyes. It burned brighter with each word I spoke. “People die around me.”

“So be it.”

“You could die.”

“Not long ago, I was halfway there.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled a long, shaky breath. He looked back at me, and that light hadn’t dimmed. “I kill people.”

“I might’ve killed one last night.”

“No.” He shook his head against the pillow. “Your shot didn’t kill him. It was mine. I shot him twice in the head. That’s not you. Don’t take that on you. It’s not yours to carry.”

My hand shifted, and my thumb went to his lips. “Thank you for saving my life last night.”

His eyes darkened. “You were in that situation because of me. Don’t thank me for that.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should.”

But I didn’t. No thoughts held weight inside me when I was around Cole. My body was drawn to his, had been from the beginning, and as he moved over me, his lips finding mine, I knew what I’d said was true: I couldn’t walk away from him.

His lips moved down my throat.

Nothing could drag me away.





A few hours later, we woke again. Cole’s elevator was buzzing on repeat, like someone was leaning on the button. Cole slipped from bed, cursing under his breath. He pulled on some pants and padded barefoot out of the room.

Checking the clock, I saw it was past noon. Good gracious. It was time to get up. I’d showered the night before, but I showered again. I found a pair of shorts in Cole’s closet and grabbed a shirt. I didn’t think he’d care. Then I tried remembering where all of my stuff was from last night.

I’d grabbed everything when I got his keys, wallet, and phone. I’d taken my purse to the stables, and I’d had it slung over me—his car. I’d put in his backseat. Everything would be in there, including my phone. I was hesitant to leave the bedroom. Somehow it had become our private sanctuary, but I had to face the real world.

I was coming around the corner when Cole almost ran into me, coming my way.

His hands caught me, holding me at the waist, and he stopped me from careening into his chest. He winced, but that was it. He’d been able to be with me earlier as if his wound didn’t bother him at all. I saw now that it did.

“Sorry.” My hand rested on his chest. “I should get going. I think my purse is in your car.”

“I was coming to get you.”

“You were?”

He gestured over his shoulder. “Dorian’s here for you.”

“For me? Dorian?”

He nodded.

Time slowed. There was nothing dramatic about this, but I knew it wasn’t good. Dorian wouldn’t have come for a “Hey, how are you?” There was a storm coming. I felt it in my gut.

As I turned the corner and approached him, my gut was right. He was closed-off. I’d thought Dorian liked me initially, but since that morning he’d woken Cole up at my place, things had gone downhill.

“Your friend has been trying to get ahold of you.”

“My friend?”

“Ms. Clarke.”

My alarm spiked. “Sia? What’s wrong?”

“Do you know where your phone is, Mrs. Sailer?” He glanced at Cole as he said my married name.