“I miss everything.” I don’t think she wants to see a lot of it. Bonte’s father might be a serial killer, or was. He’s not dead but more retired. She isn’t a fan of all the blood and death. To hear the story is one thing; it’s another to witness it. “Did you know you made the paper?”
“What!” I snap. How did she not lead with that? We have been on this flight for hours.
“It’s fine.” Mac waves it off. She must have seen it already. If it was an issue, she would have said something.
“It was about the club and a few other places losing power.” Bonte eyes Mac.
“It was her fault anyways.” Mac points a thumb at me. “I was left with no choice. Shit, I chipped my nail polish.” She inspects her nails.
I killed a person last night, and mine are still fine. I don’t know what Nix uses when she holds me down to do them, but they never chip. I keep them pretty short but not short enough that you can’t claw a person if need be.
Mac is right. I was only going to rough him up, but not everything can go according to plan. You must adapt. There wasn’t much of a choice. Sure, you could try to go back in and delete footage from the surveillance, but you never know who could have been watching and already snagged it. It’s safer that way.
“When you attack a person, you risk death. Every human knows this.” I will not feel guilty for ridding the world of that man. There is nothing that pisses me off more than a man trying to overpower you because he can.
It’s something we women constantly have in the back of our mind when we are walking down the street, alone in an elevator or stairwell, and a man is present. It’s a natural instinct for us to be on guard. Believe me. I speak from experience.
“I think any man being near you risks death,” Mac says.
“They do.” My tolerance for arrogant men who think they can simply take is zero.
When the plane lands, I check my phone to see there is an issue with the vehicle I had requested getting through the private gate at the airport.
“I’m trying to see what’s up,” Mac mutters.
I grab my bag as the door opens. Mac keeps clicking away on her phone. As we step out to go down the stairs, I spot a Cadillac CT5-V. For a sedan with four doors, it’s wicked fast.
A man dressed in an all-black suit stands beside it, clearly waiting for us. “That’s not ours,” Mac says, confused, and starts clicking faster on her phone.
Oh, but I think it very much is.
“Naomi Marino.” He says my name, but it’s not a question. He steps forward, holding out his hand with the keys in it. I don’t take them, nor do I speak. I let the silence hang in the air and grow thick. The man shifts on his feet. “Mr. Monroe sent me to deliver the vehicle.”
I want to ask why, and is Paxton also the reason that my own vehicle can’t get through the gate? This man won’t have those answers.
“How the hell?” Mac mutters from behind me. Yes, how the hell did he know where we were going to land? Because he has pull here. It didn’t matter what airport we touched down at; he’d know.
I take the keys from his hand. “Thank you,” Bonte tells the man over my shoulder. He nods before scurrying away. “You being able to freak out grown men twice your size is a skill set I dream of having.”
“You just?—”
“No.” Bonte cuts me off. “It’s a vibe, and one you were born with.”
I want to agree, but I’m not so sure how much really is me or how much I have thought this is who I should be. I didn’t have these questions before Paxton. He is messing with my head, and there isn’t much I can do about that.
Mac drops to her haunches and goes through the back before coming out with a scanner. “I’ll check it over, but should we even take the car?”
I weigh this. There is no upside to Paxton hurting me. That would only ensure his own death. Paxton might have power in many places, but he doesn’t have enough to take on the wrath of the Marino family, nor the other four families.
We might not get along with everyone at our table or even like them, but only we can fuck with each other. That is why Paxton knows marrying me would be the only way to have that full protection. It’s smart.
“We’ll take it.” My phone goes off in my hand, a message from Paxton coming through.
Paxton: It’s clean.
Me:Better be
Paxton:Only for you
