“He was safe.”
“I heard you.”
His eyes search mine.
“Your heart is still pounding.” He traces his fingers over my jawline, down my throat, tapping on the side of my neck where my pulse is trying to break through the skin.
“Tommy saw Dante.”
“He did.” Kaz nods. “And Mikhail handled it.”
“Why was he there?”
“He wanted to pick up Tommy. The school wasn’t going to let him because he’s not on one of those lists they have, but Mikhail had noticed Dante walking through parking lot through the class window. He met him at the front office.”
“What did Dante say?”
“He said he was supposed to take Tommy to a doctor’s appointment. He had a letter from your uncle, giving him permission to pull him from school.”
“How very civilian of them,” I mutter.
Tommy’s hands fall to his sides. “What better way to get the school to cooperate than to follow their rules.”
“Maybe we should leave. Maybe I can take Tommy to California or Canada. Somewhere Uncle Vicente wouldn’t think to look for us.”
“We’re not moving to Canada,” he says firmly.
Notyou’renot moving — we’re not.We. The one syllable hits me harder in the chest than the bullet that greeted me at the door.
“You’re shaking, come sit down. I’ll get you a drink.” He leads me to the leather couch.
“Every day we’re going to have live like this? Wondering if Dante is going to show up to take him? The school isn’t going to put up with Mikhail being there forever. It’s not fair to the other kids.”
He brings me a glass of whiskey and sits on the coffee table in front of me, balancing his own glass on his knee.
“Gerald got back to me today.” His voice falls flat, and I know nothing he’s about to tell me is good news.
I take a sip of the whiskey, immediately coughing as the liquid burns my throat.
“Sorry. I’m not used to straight liquor.” I pat my chest.
He smiles at me, like I’m the most adorable puppy in the store and he absolutely must take me home.
“What’s the bad news?” My shoulders tense. “Uncle Vicente has full custody, and he can put me in jail for kidnapping?”
Kaz’s eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”
“What? That’s what I’ve done, right? You said it yourself.”
“Do you think I’d let you go to jail? That I would even let a fucking cop near you?”
“It would solve your problem wouldn’t it? It’d get you out of this marriage and you’d see a DeAngelo in prison. You’d have the revenge—” I’m cut off by his hand smacking across my mouth.
“I told you, you’re mine now. And I protect what’s mine. There is no you versus me. There’s only us versus your fucked up family.”
He takes my glass and puts it on the table beside him. Then he leans into me, his nose brushing against mine.
“I’m going to move my hand, and you’re going to apologize for being so rude. You’re going to say, ‘I’m sorry, sir for not trusting you to protect me.’”
