Ethan chuckles, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Let’s go home. I’ll take care of ya, love.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
In which secrets are shared and we find out why Sloan's stepfather wins the Complete Bastard of the Year Award.
Ethan…
I’m lying on the bed, my arm behind my head, watching my wife sleep, sprawled across me. She dinna remember this I know, but when we had to camp in the mountains, she’d fuss around in her sleep on the pine needle bed and eventually roll on top of me, using me as her mattress. Even here on the most comfortable mattress I’ve found, she still prefers to sleep on me.
I canna complain, the feel of her soft little body against mine is calming, even if her slightest move wakes me. I’d never had women stay over, I preferred to go to theirs or a hotel so I could leave.
My nightmares are ugly, and detailed. More than once I’d woken up smashing my fist into the wall or attempting to strangle my pillow. With Sloan in my bed, I dinna dream. Or, at least I dinna remember them.
Today’s not gonna be pleasant. I must confront my wife about her brother’s whereabouts and why he needs medical treatment. One of our best hackers, Morrie, called me yesterday. Thatfecker Gavin tried to put out a new contract on Sloan, angry that everyone else pulled out once word of our marriage got around. But that dinna means he’s still not searching for her brother, which means we need to retrieve him and the nurse - Carmella, I believe - before he does.
Sloan is violently protective of him. I want her to trust me, to tell me willingly. But if she dinna, I have to scare the shite out of her, which could drive her away. I keep my promises, I will protect her brother. She just needs to tell me the whole story first.
And my wife is gonna hate that.
She’s sleeping heavily because once we made it back to the apartment, we fucked again. On the kitchen counter. Leaning against the railing on the terrace. In the shower. I canna get enough of her.
“Are you staring at me like a creep?” Sloan mumbles, still face down on my chest.
“Are ya still rolling on top of me when ya sleep like I’m your own personal mattress, then?”
Her head pops up like a prairie dog. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you not like that?”
She tries to slide off me and I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her firmly to me. “I love it, wife. I may be your mattress but ya are my blanket. So it evens out, aye?”
Her finger traces along the Scottish dagger on my arm. “How did you get this scar?”
The dagger is wreathed with thistles and our clan’s crest. The way it’s inked makes it look like it’s stabbing into my arm, covering the long and puckered scar there.
“One of my jobs dinna go as planned. I was young, new to this, and too stupidly confident. The target had six bodyguards, not two. I thought I’d taken them all down, but one jumped me before I could take out the arsehole I was there for. He shoved his stiletto into my arm, pushing it under my skin up to my elbow. I had to kill him before I could pull the blade out.”
Her finger pauses before stroking over the scar. “Did you get your target?”
“Aye. He left his men to die for him, the cowardly prick.”
“What did he do?” she asks, “I mean, why was there a contract out on him?”
My hand curls into a fist before I can stop it. “He liked to kidnap girls and sell them in his brothels. Young ones. There was a mom in London, she’d already lost her husband, she wouldn’t give up on her girl. She spent every penny she had, looking for her. She finally approached us, offering her wedding ring as payment to get her bairn back.”
“That’s horrible!” Sloan looks heartbroken. “So, did you find the girl? Did you save her?”
“Aye, along with twelve other girls, most of ‘em underage. Once we got ‘em out, I blew up the fecking place with a load of C-4 and then burned down his shite mansion. I returned Casey to her ma along with her wedding ring. She works in one of our legitimate shipping offices now.”
“How’s Casey doing?”
“Last time I checked on her, she was better,” I say. “She finished school, she’s datin’ a nice lad.”
“Moms don’t give up,” Sloan says sadly. “They just don’t.”
“Your ma was like that, then?” I’m stroking her hair, nice and slow, the way she likes it. The way that comforts her.
“She was amazing,” she agrees, “I know she loved us. But I can’t understand why she married that evil fuck. I never thought she loved him. But she still legally changed our last names to Masters. It was the last bit of my father and Gavin even took that away.”
She put her head back down on my chest, resting her cheek against my heart.
