“Hurting you,” I admitted.
He made a thoughtful noise, lashes fluttering closed, and what he asked me next caused my heart to explode in my chest.
“How about we kill your father so we can have a little more time?”
Chapter Thirteen
Foster
I’d only meant it halfway.
Sage hadn’t agreed to it one way or the other, but he’d kissed me into silence and then left me in the kitchen. I’d heard the lock on the spare bedroom latch into place and not a single sound since. So when the doorbell chimed, I nearly shit myself.
I’d managed to change clothes and run a comb through my hair, but I hadn’t been sleeping well since Sage had shown up. To make matters worse, I had no idea when he was leaving…ifhe was leaving, and whether or not it would be of his own free will or in a body bag.
I didn’t like my life having so many variables.
But I liked Sage.
I wanted to kill him, but I liked having him around. I liked…rather, I enjoyed the way he took liberties with me when it pleased him. It was fucked that while all it would take was a single spasm in my finger, ending his life and making me a millionaire, a single flare of his eye would send me to my knees, my guns in pieces in the safe.
Another jarring noise.
Right, the doorbell.
Still no sound or movement from Sage’s room—my spare room—which led me to believe if there was a bullet waiting for someone on the porch, he was fully good leaving it to my chest, not his.
I definitely wanted to kill him.
I paused in the living room, grabbing my Ruger from the coffee table where I’d set it last, walking quietly to the door. A glance out the peephole showed a cluster of people I knew and loved, but also more company than I wanted to entertain. I tucked my gun into my back pocket, not wanting to leave it lying around in mixed company, then undid all the door locks and pasted on my best host's smile.
“I told you he was fine,” Ronan said, casting a smug glance at Rich, who stood to his right.
“I’m fine,” I repeated automatically.
“I got spoiled with you on vacation.” Rich frowned. “I forgot how you disappear when you’re working.”
“I’m not working,” I said. “Or, I mean, I’m supposed to be. Not at the moment, though.”
“Are you going to invite us in?” Rich ignored what I’d said and tilted his chin up to look over my shoulder into my house.
“If I have to.” I stepped aside, making room for him and Ronan to come in, followed by Kevin and Sam, their respective partners.
Sam narrowed his eyes at me, pulling the door out of my hand and closing it after he’d stepped over the threshold.
“He hates when you do this,” Sam whispered, joining Richard in the living room without giving any indication he’d even spoken.
“Is he still here?” Ronan asked, collapsing onto the couch. Kevin sat near his feet, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankle.
“Is who here?” Rich sat on the other end of the couch, and Sam flopped down into the middle space between them.
“You didn’t tell him?” I asked.
“Not my place.”
“Is who here?” Rich asked again, leveling a very harsh look in my direction.
“No one,” I said, leaving them and going into the kitchen.
