Talon (Uncompromising #1)(56)

Layna put her hand on Blaze’s face and smiled.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I was living a dead fucking fantasy.

Leigh was gone.

I was alive and she was dead. A thousand regrets crashed into me all at once. I failed Leigh. And I was failing Siren. Guilt gripped my chest so tight, sweat broke out across my forehead. My shoulders burned and my legs fought for control. I pushed to my feet and it hit me like a fucking freight train as I watched Blaze kiss Layna.

Leigh and I never had what they have. Leigh loved me but she never trusted me. Not with her life and not with her death. I didn’t fight hard enough for her and she never fought for us.

I was young. We both were. I loved the fuck out of her but seeing Blaze and Layna, I suddenly realized there was no comparison. I hadn’t loved selflessly. I should have been holding Leigh when she died. And she should have given me that chance.

“Talon?”

My head snapped up.

Concern drew across Layna’s face. “You okay?”

“Never better,” my voice rasped.

She glanced up at Blaze but he was busy staring at me like he knew I was losing my shit.

“I know we have to go, but…” She placed her hand on Blaze’s arm.

“Go.” I nodded toward the door. “Before someone else decides to take a shot at you.”

Blaze scowled and Layna took two steps and threw her arms around my neck.

I froze but then I wrapped my arms around her because she looked like my Leigh and because I was sinking faster than I knew how to swim. Emotions I wasn’t used to became a shit storm and I opened my stupid mouth. “I’m sorry, for everythin’.” For every stupid mistake I’d ever made, with her, with Leigh, with Siren.

Layna pulled back and looked at me with determination. “This is not your fault. If anyone should be—”

“Enjoy your second honeymoon.” I cut her off, pushing her toward Blaze. I didn’t want her absolution.

Blaze pulled her back to his chest and put a possessive arm around her.

André stood. “I’ll walk you two out. I need to talk to my men.”

They disappeared downstairs and I sunk into a chair.

Neil didn’t waste any time. “I neither begrudge nor hold anything over you for Hawaii. I would not presume to know what it is like to lose a spouse.”

Jesus fuck, now we were going to do this? “Fuck you.”

“Your actions regarding Maldonado were selfish. Your friendship with Blaze’s wife is selfish. Your string of women for the past two years has been self-indulgent. Hawaii was grief, but everything since has been self-pity. This is what I meant by selfish.”

I wasn’t sorry Maldonado was dead and I didn’t give a fuck what Neil thought about me. My life, my business, but I’d concede that the Maldonado situation probably could’ve been handled differently given time, except we didn’t have time. Neil was right, he didn’t know what it was like to lose a wife. I wasn’t going to let that happen to Blaze, not if I could stop it.

I leaned back in my chair, resolved to let this play out. “Kick a man when he’s down, why don’t you,” I said sarcastically, pissed that he’d called me selfish.

“Do you know what defines a man?”

“No, and I don’t give a fuck.”

Expression blank, Neil stared at me.

I knew that look. He’d wait me out all night. I threw a hand up and gave him the floor. “Lay it on me. Let’s hear another one of Neil’s life philosophies.”

“A man is not defined by his circumstances but by his reactions.”

“Thank you, Socrates.”

“I cannot teach anybody anything, I can only make them think.”

Fucker actually quoted Socrates the second time. “Your point?”

“Take care of this.”

“On it,” I lied as I sat on my ass talking to him instead of doing something to get Siren out from under Carter.

“Twenty-four hours, then I have a life to get back to.”

“Yeah, what life is that?” The secretive fuck. “Constructin’ strip malls?” God knew we owned enough of them. Including the one my shop was in.

“Constructing and malls? No. Stripper? Yes.”

I stared at him a moment, my brain still clouded by alcohol. “You’re datin’ a stripper?” Neil was all about the Russian models.

He didn’t move, he didn’t even blink.

Then it sunk in. “Oh, shit.” No fucking way. “Ariel? André’s Ariel?” When she wasn’t working for André, Ariel was a stripper.

Neil stared at me.

“You go for six-foot models with dispositions that make your surly ass look like a pig in shit. How the fuck did this happen?”