“You’re still his family,” I point out.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and as much as I don’t want to, I have to end this conversation to answer the call. Cidney takes a step backward, then another as she gives me space.
Sliding my thumb across my screen, I turn my back to her and answer. My greeting is a simple yeah. It doesn’t need to be anything else because we both know who the other is.
“I’m checking in on you,” he states.
“Checking in on me?”
He hums. “That meet today, your girl, checking in.”
I should deny that Cidney is my girl, but Maverick knows me better than anyone else on earth. He probably knew when we fucked the first time, that’s how in tune we’ve been. Although that relationship has been slightly strained since he met Zadie, I feel like it’s getting back on track, or shifting to a new track, really.
“I’m good. It was a lot, but nobody died, so that’s a plus.”
“And nobody will die?” he asks.
I snort. I want Goffredo to die, but that’s a mission for another day, the day he steps a toe out of line, and if he thinks I’m not watching? I will always be fucking aware of that asshole, of every goddamn move he makes.
“Not yet,” I state, and it’s the truth.
“Good,” he chuckles. “I think Zadie has been worried about Cidney. The girls want to get together. I told her it would have to be somewhere safe.”
At this point, I feel comfortable with them meeting just about anywhere. I don’t think that prick is going to try anything for a while. Not for a good long fucking while. He’s going to play it safe until he thinks we’ve forgotten about him.
I am under no illusion that he won’t eventually try some fly shit.
Maybe not with Cidney, but definitely with the Reapers. He thinks that because his daddy could save him once, he’ll be able to save him again. He won’t.
“The girls can all come here. Send me the date and time, and I’ll make sure they’re safe. Got the whole place under surveillance. You can’t fart in here without me being alerted.”
Maverick snorts. “I’m sure you’ve tested that theory, too,” he mutters.
“Might could have.”
“And when the girls get together, am I safe to assume my brother wants to hang out with me?”
I should tell him to fuck off with that shit, but I don’t. Mainly because I want to see him just as badly. “You better fucking believe it. I need a couple beers and to fucking relax for a minute.”
“Been stressful?” he asks.
Turning my head, I look over my shoulder, my gaze finding Cidney. She’s in her kitchen, her back to me, doing something near the stove. No clue what, but I don’t care either. I just like to see her standing in the same vicinity as me. I like her being in my space and me being in hers.
“In some ways.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I got you. I’ll text you.”
He ends the call, and I turn around to face Cidney. With everything that’s happened—the Front Mob Family, Ivy, that jackwagon Goffredo—I need to be inside her. I need to know she’s still mine.
CIDNEY
I can’t hear him closing the distance between us. I can feel him, though. His movements are predatory. He’s stalking his prey, and that prey is me. Which I love. I welcome that feeling, every single ounce of it, because I know when he’s caught me, it’s going to feel amazing.
It always does.
“The girls are worried about you. They want to hang out,” he murmurs behind me.
I don’t turn to look at him. I’m not sure what to say. I want to see them too, but once I do, I know it will be time for reality to crash down around us. I’m ready to return to the world, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to come back to the world that’s waiting for me.
