GEORGIE
Nash and I walked to the urn of flowers beside the pool. I looked at the water. The beautiful flower arrangements were floating serenely on the surface.
The beauty masked the rot of this place.
Nash checked his phone and leaned closer. “Landon and Cole followed Alden. He’s gone out alone for a cigarette.”
I licked my lips. I knew that Alden wouldn’t be returning to the party. This unsettled me, but I wasn’t sorry. I remembered Viv, I remember the other women.
Nash cupped my cheek. His callused fingers whispered over my skin.
“Okay?”
I nodded. Once again, he was taking care of me.
I loved him touching me. I loved him being by my side.
My insides trembled.
I loved him.
I realized that I’d always loved him. First, as a young handsome boy who’d been my brother’s best friend, and now as a tough, hard, dangerous man.
I’d fought not to fall, but I’d been defenseless against him.
God. He lowered his head, his mouth brushing mine. I pushed into the kiss, opening my lips to his.
Then I realized at the same time, he was reaching into the flowers. Quickly, he pulled the guns out. They both had silencers attached. I slid one under my fur coat, then into the sparkly crossbody bag I wore.
His disappeared under his jacket. I looked up at him.
Then I caught a glimpse of a familiar man over his shoulder.
“Bruno,” I hissed.
Calmly, Nash curled his arm around me and turned us. While it looked like he was just studying the party, I knew he was taking in Bruno.
Snyder’s right-hand man was with a woman in a red dress. She had a mass of black curls that fell down the middle of her back and was tottering on four-inch heels. He was holding her close, gesturing around, like he was giving her a tour.
The couple disappeared into the house.
Rage welled. I remembered the emotionless way he’d beaten me. I remembered the things he’d done to my sister.
He loved his role as Snyder’s enforcer. He enjoyed beating up competitors, abusing women, killing rivals.
“Come on.” Nash took my hand and we headed through the crowd. We sidestepped to avoid a drunken trio pouring champagne. The golden liquid overflowed their glasses, spilling onto the ground.
Inside the house was warmer and quieter. I took a few calming breaths. I couldn’t see Bruno and the woman anywhere. Nash and I walked through the living area. They couldn’t have gone far.
Then I spotted movement. The couple appeared from a hallway, Bruno waving at some art on the wall.
Nash grabbed me and pulled me in for a kiss. He ran his hands down my body, and getting into the moment, I slid my hands in his hair. I giggled for effect.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noted that Bruno barely gave us more than a passing glance.
“Let me show you upstairs, beautiful.” He pressed a beefy hand to the woman’s lower back and led her up the curving staircase.
“They’re gone,” I whispered against Nash’s mouth.
