He twists in his seat, curling his fingers around my jaw so I look at him. “Unless the danger comes from me. From my life.From who I am.” When he lets go, his eyes close in what appears to be exasperation. “And trust me when I tell you that I’ve always been hyperaware of your existence.”
He’s always beenhyperaware of my existence?
Ohfuck, I need to know more about that. My mind is suddenly a jumbled mess. I mean, I wanted him to admit to whatever this is between us. I just didn’t expect him to actually do it. And while that wasn’t a confession per se, it was a hell of an opening act. But the danger he mentioned must be the foundation of the barrier. Maybe more so than the fiasco we’d confront with my brothers.
I keep my voice light and melodic, hoping he’ll latch on to the tranquility of it. “Who do you think I am, Ty? I’m not some sheltered wallflower.” Pausing there, I wait until his eyes connect with mine. “I may have been heavily shielded from the outside world my entire life, but I was raised by gangsters, essentially, who do business with other gangsters. And unspeakable things to those who cross them. My name is more perilous than anything you could throw at me.”
He scrubs his hands over his face. “I wish that were true. It is to a degree, so it makes sense that you’d see it that way. There’s so much you don’t know—”
“Then tell me,” I snap, my eyes stinging with indignation as I smack my palms against my bare thighs. “Please, for God’s sake, be the one person who isn’t too much of a coward to tell me what the hell is going on. Because all the peopleprotecting mehave been lying to me. And safeguards shouldn’t hurt.”
His head tilts, regret clearly written on his features, but the excuse he proffers infuriates me. “It’s not that simple. I won’t lie to you, but I also can’t disclose certain information.”
I traveled halfway across the country for a modicum of freedom, and I’m stuck in a car full of stagnant air. My fingers curl over the door handle, jaw clenching. “Fine. It’s been a long night. I’m going to my room. Are you coming in?”
When he doesn’t answer, I swing up the door of his Maserati MC20, grab my backpack purse, and step into the cool night air. It doesn’t infiltrate my lungs the way I crave. The dryness here is something to contend with. I’ve blown through half a tube of lip balm already. The racket of the bustling city coils around me. It’s alive with mischief and debauchery, not so unlike where I’m from. And yet entirely different.
La Lune Noire is top-shelf whiskey and exclusive invitations. Depravity and decadence entwined. Secrets and scandals.
Vegas is the same in some respects. The city as a whole nails that vibe, probably better than New Orleans. And everything is newer and grander here. But I don’t like it. The people feel inaccessible, distant. Boiled down to simplicity, it’s that they aren’t mine. I love my home, and I don’t want to keep running. I hoped Ty would be a companion to journey with, but it turns out, I am utterly isolated. Standing in this parking lot, a hair’s breadth from exuberant living, I’m wondering if I should bolt for a new destination, go home without the truth, or risk everything and look up this Balzano guy.
Whatever it is, I’ll be alone.
Without a sound, Ty emerges from the darkness and is looming beside me. “You want the truth, Rena? Your brothers tried to warn you. I amtryingto warn you. My family and I aren’t shackles. We’re cinder blocks in the ocean. If I fill you in, it’s a death sentence. And I can’t—”
I raise my palm to him in a plea to stop, more defeated by all of this than I realized. “I think that’s par for the course where I’m concerned anyway, but okay.”
“What does that mean?” His face is so pained with that question, compassion crinkling his eyes—proof that his gentler persona is still in there.
There’s no point in sharing that I overheard Axel say I was as good as dead if I traced my lineage. Those are fragments of a shaky truth that I’m not sure I want solidified. Some of my knowledge is classified, too, I suppose.
“Nothing.” I swat his inquiry away and stroke my forehead. “Death-sentence information is sufficiently ominous, so I won’t ask for anything more. But if we’re reiterating warnings, then I need to revisit the text where I said that maybe I wasn’t being fair to you. I’m not sure because everything is so damn foggy right now.”
I pause there, sliding my fingers over his cheek. It’s not something I was ever entitled to do before. Maybe it isn’t now either, but I steal the liberty either way. And to my surprise, he leans into my touch, as lost to the freedom as I seem to be.
“You’re not yourself,” I observe, my lungs growing unbearably heavy because none of this is how I want it to be. “I hate that you’re hurting over anything. I wish I could fix it or be someone you let in. And on the other side of this shit with me, I can be. I can do the supportive-friend role like nobody’s business. But I’m falling apart, Ty. I’m lost, and you felt like a compass. So, if you came all this way to tell me how complicated this is or that you don’t want me, I can’t do it.”
As the final word falls from my lips, he captures my wrist and curls his other hand on my hip, thrusting me into the car. My lowerback connects to the metal and his palms move to cradle my jaw, his smoldering brown eyes capering over my face with so much vehemence that it seeps into my bones.
“Is that what you think? That I don’t want you?” He exhales, his breath fanning over my skin to mix deliciously with that dry evening air—the humid blanket I crave—washing my chest and arms and cheeks with celebratory bumps. “That’s not possible. The issue is that I want you too much, Little Moon. I’ve been relegated to an eternal nightmare, and you are the one source of fucking light.”
God, he knows how to pack a punch, doesn’t he? I can barely breathe. Maybe I’m hallucinating. This certainly has that surreal quality to it, and I have been stressed.
His fingers thread into my hair. “You shouldn’t be worrying about being there for me. You’re hurting, going through something, which is why I wanted to be here. But the right thing for me to do is to walk away, to encourage you to work this out with your brothers and leave the rest alone.”
That was one way to sober me. Whiplash. I resist expelling the huff that is ballooning inside my lungs and flourish my most saccharine smile. “Well, I don’t want to get in the way of you doing the right thing. Sleep well on the plane.”
He laughs, full and husky, before he leans in, pressing himself against me, his lips wetting my ear. “Don’t be a brat. I need you to be patient and let me sort through this.”
I lift my chin, relishing the bristle of his scruff against my cheek and envisioning what it would feel like inother places. “Then stop being a broody tyrant who thinks he gets to decide what’s best for me.”
His hand splays across my throat, thumb and index tilting my head to him. And his smile—a million stars of celestial awe glimmer in his smile. There are flagrant demons grappling their way to the surface, too, but none of them scare me. Anyone who can shine such heavenly beauty while being haunted is a spirit I want in my corner.
“No promises,” he rasps as his cock jerks against my hip. “One step at a time. Now we eat and sleep.”
I mirror his amusement, biting my lip to contain it from exploding, but the boast is there. “No promisesgoes both ways. So, brat it is. But we’ll worry more about that after we’re refueled. C’mon.”
The loss of his warmth is nearly disarming as I duck out from under him. Ty grabs his bag from the trunk, and I guide us toward the entrance. The only way to reach the rooms is to traipse through the grand casino and droves of wandering vacationers.
