I should be out there, wreaking havoc everywhere and going door to door if necessary to handle this. However, after Juice, Hot Rod, and I talked, we felt like maybe it was the only upper hand we had.
De Leon would never come out if I was up and running. No joke, it would probably take a year to find him. The fucking snake has a good way of hiding. I wouldn’t be shocked if he lived in a hole like the little mole he is. I’ve spent years trying to get to him, and it’s a game.
He comes out, then fucking hides again.
I don’t know how or where, but I’ve been beating my own ass over it for years because Bay isn’t safe until he’s a corpse.
“We’re ready for you,” Hot Rod says. “But you’re going to need to tell her that she can’t be traipsing around The Landings like she owns the fucking place anymore.”
“I’m right here,” she grinds out. “Talk tome.”
“She still has her birthright there,” Hot Rod states. “If she takes it, we’re in better standing than we are now.”
Juice pushes off the wall. “Ramsey will never let her have it. The Wildes kid killed Emilio. He’s bound to go off the rails, and we didn’t plan for it yet.”
Definitely didn’t.
And I don’t know what to do about it.
Ramsey will never allow her to have the space. And putting her closer to him is just asking for a fucking disaster.
“She doesn’t leave your sight,” I emit tersely before slicing my attention to Bay. “And The Landings is off-limits, for real. I don’t want you anywhere near him. Or Torin.” I’m fully aware of how hard the latter is going to be. Especially with Black around and Oz. He comes with the set. “Not alone, anyway.”
A million and one questions illuminate her features, but I don’t have the time to go through each and every single one of them.
I want to. Fuck me, I do.
But my main priority has to be to keep her safe. And I can’t talk to Cairo about it. I can’t send word to Ozzy to keep his full stalker tendencies on Bay’s ass at all times.
So Juice or Hot Rod is going to have to do it for me.
“Give us a minute,” I instruct the boys because I can feel every second pass like a ticking time bomb. And I didn’t like the feeling when Cairo strapped one on me. “Then you have to take her back. You’ve been here too long already.”
Hot Rod and Juice do as they’re told without reservation, and this is the hardest part.
I never want to say goodbye to Bay. It’s unbearably hard and vulnerable. Something shifted after I got shot, and it’s becoming harder to not throw shit to the wind and make this athing.
I want her.
I think I always fucking have.
But there was a line we drew, whether we meant to or not. Breakups fuck things up, I was young, dumb, and horny with too much power and a father who was going to pass down his crown.
I didn’t want Bay involved in it.
The last thing I would’ve wanted was to royally fuck it up. Forgiveness isn’t something either of us passes out with grace.
In fact, we don’t.
“Emilio Wildes is dead.”
I blink, pulling Bay back into focus, allowing just the briefest of seconds to soak her all in for the last time in, I don’t know when or how long it’ll be until I get to again.
Her long, dark-as-fuck hair is pulled back in a simple ponytail. The only makeup she has on is mascara, something she swears she’ll never leave the house without. I could easily get lost in her blue eyes if I settle where I am—in this uncomfortable bed with springs digging into my ass, but I drop my gaze to her black tee with a rose along the small pocket above her heart.
“I know. I had it confirmed. Ten-foot grave in the woods. He won’t be coming out of there.”
“Levi…”
