Rafe stayed about a mile behind her, watching in curiosity as she made one stop along the way. Parking outside one of the city’s homeless shelters, she jogged up to the donation box and dropped all fifty grand in cash into the slot.
What the hell?
After risking her life to earn it, she just gave her entire share of the theft away.
Rafe hadn’t imagined she was participating in Cruz’s gang out of personal greed, but this was a revelation all on its own. It was an unexpectedly tender side to the tough-as-nails Breed female.
That she was harboring other well-guarded secrets as well, he had no doubt.
Tonight, he intended to unwrap them all.
CHAPTER 9
Devony felt eyes on her.
The prickle of awareness had settled at her nape on the drive home to her brownstone and hadn’t let up in the ten minutes since she had arrived.
Which is why she hadn’t yet changed out of her lug-soled boots, fine-gauge turtleneck and stretchy, form-fitting black tactical pants.
The semiautomatic pistol she’d carried with her into the museum job tonight was still holstered on the belt around her hips, too, although she doubted the weapon would be much use against the intruder she knew was currently inside her house.
Breed.
She stepped out of her father’s study and found Rafe standing in her foyer.
He had slipped past the deadbolts and security system in silence, and now had the audacity to give her a wry smile. “I was in the neighborhood. Sorry I didn’t knock.”
Outrage burst through her veins. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She couldn’t believe the arrogant male had actually found where she lived and barged in as if he owned the place. “Get out of here right now. Or I’ll throw you out.”
There was no need to pretend she wasn’t fully capable of doing exactly that. Or at least willing to try.
“We need to talk, Devony.”
Was he serious? She glared at him, her vision snapping with amber sparks. “We already did that earlier tonight, remember?”
He slowly shook his head. “No. You haven’t told me anything yet. I need to know what you’re doing in Cruz’s gang. I mean what you’re really doing.”
So, he had followed her all the way from Ocho’s garage. Tailed her. Spied on her. Right before he broke into her house.
“I don’t think you’re actually with them at all. You’re only playing a role, using them for some reason. So, what are you after? Not money. I saw you leave yours in a charity box in town.”
She swallowed as he took a step toward her. “I said you need to leave, Rafe. I’m not going to ask again.”
He didn’t look like he had any intention of complying. He scanned the opulent entryway of the old brownstone, taking in the dark mahogany millwork and stairs, the glittering chandelier overhead, and the sumptuous antique rug beneath his heavy boots.
“Whose Darkhaven is this?”
“It’s mine.” That wasn’t a lie, even though it felt like one as she used it to evade his real question.
He glanced into the spacious family room to his left, with its polished grand piano and the delicate Louis XVI furnishings her mother had loved so well. On the other side of the foyer was the cozy library where she and her brother had spent countless hours as children devouring all of the stories and biographies and thought-provoking philosophical texts that lined the floor-to-ceiling shelves.
That was before. Before her parents moved the family back to London for their work with the government.
And long before the heinous and cowardly terror act that stole them all away from her earlier this year.
Instead of leaving as she’d told him to, Rafe stepped further inside her home. “Do you live with someone?” He frowned. “Are you mated to someone, Devony?”
“No. Not that it’s any of your business. This is my family’s home.”
