Our bond hums low and tight between us, filled with conflict and something like reluctant respect. I can feel him weighing his options.
Finally, he exhales, slow and rough, like he’s letting go of something. “You don’t fight fair,” he mutters.
I don’t apologize. “Talk,” I say firmly.
Then Cass shifts suddenly.
Before I can react, he reaches back and pulls me forward, guiding me until I’m sitting astride his good leg, settled on the solid muscle of his thigh. My weight sinks into him, my skin still wet with slick and cum. But he doesn't seem to care.
“Fine,” Cass says, his hands firm and sure at my hips, anchoring me there, like he needs me close to say this.
I still.
“We launder money,” he says in the most matter-of-fact tone. “It’s how I’ve made my money for years. Clubs. Bars. Construction. Anything that moves cash.” A pause. “We’re careful. We’re clean. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have enemies.”
My breath catches, but I try like hell not to let it show. “Okay,” I say like it’s no big deal.
“An alpha borrowed a lot of money from us,” Cass continues. “He panicked and thought taking me out would make his problem disappear.”
I feel the shock slam into me hard and fast, bright and disorienting, but I clamp down on it immediately. I grab hold of the emotion like it’s something physical, white-knuckling it, refusing to let it bleed through the bond.
I don’t want Cass to feel it.
Not yet.
“So he shot you,” I say evenly, my voice steady even though I’m freaking out inside.
Cass nods once. “He aimed for my head, but I was able to…” He pauses, then presses his lips into a thin line. I can already tell I won’t get all the gritty details, and I think I’m okay with that. “He ended up hitting my knee,” Cass says. “It could’ve been much worse.” He squeezes my hips. “I got very lucky.”
I’m immediately assaulted with images of Cass on the ground, blood spurting from his leg, his eyes vacant and staring. It does something violent to my heart. It feels like a physical blow, a sickening lurch that steals the air from my lungs.
But I keep my face neutral, my body relaxed where I’m perched on his thigh, forcing myself to focus on the feel of the alpha beneath me. Solid. Safe. Alive.
“What happened to him?” I ask quietly. “The man who shot you.”
“He’s dead,” Cass says simply.
My stomach instantly drops, my mind jumping ahead before I can stop it.
It had to have been Warren or Grason who did it.Grason is much bigger and stronger, but there’s something about Warren. He’s so quiet and controlled. Then again, I barely know him. I haven’t spent enough time around Warren to be sure of anything at all.
“Did Warren kill?—”
“No,” Cass cuts me off. “It was nothing like that.” His grip on my hips firms, grounding me. “The asshole had a heart attack two days after shooting me. I never got my revenge.”
Relief rushes through me so fast it makes me lightheaded. “Oh,” I breathe, before I can stop myself. “Thank goodness.”
His brow furrows slightly. “Good?”
I nod, my words tumbling out now. “Revenge just invites more violence. It turns into a cycle. Someone attacks, then that person returns an attack, then again, and again. It never really ends.”
Cass studies me for a long second, thoughtful, not offended. “Sometimes,” he says evenly, “revenge isn’t about getting even. It’s a warning. It keeps the next alpha in line.” He pauses, his gaze turning more serious, more intense. “But other times, it’s a lifeline.”
I tilt my head, not understanding. “A lifeline? How?”
He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, earnest tone. “Because there is no greater feeling in the world than protecting the people you love. Sometimes, revenge is the most selfless thing you can do. It’s an act of protection, a promise that no one will ever hurt your loved one again. It’s not about getting even. It’s about making sure they never have to be afraid. It’s for them. And that… that can save you.”
I frown, feeling a little bad. “I’m sorry you didn’t get that with the man who shot you.”
