Absentmindedly, I glance over my shoulder at the door that exits the rooftop and scan the space out of habit. Talking about it is making my skin crawl. I may feel a little more protected with my blade now, but as long as he’s alive, a piece of him will be thriving inside me where I can’t reach. That was what he wanted, for me to always feel like he’s near, closing the distance.
I jolt in surprise, my gaze dropping to the large hand engulfing mine on the table. “He won’t get you here. You’re safe.”
“You can’t promise that.” I swallow the lump in my throat.
I’m not sure where his mind goes when I say that, but I know I’m right when he releases my hand, dragging a palm over his face in exasperation. “What’s his full name?”
My glare is threatening.
I’m not stupid. I know why he wants to know.
Preston’s the kind of man who will stop at nothing to find him. I was serious when I said he’s a devil in a suit. He’d convict Alexander to his own hell under Lachlan Park and torture him for his sins—for hurting me.
But with this, his blood wouldn’t only be on Preston’s hands; it would be on mine.
Preston braces his arms on the table, leaning over them.
His hard eyes slice between mine before I let out a sigh. If Xander’s death were on my hands, it isn’t something I think I could live with. No matter what he’s done to me.
When I don’t answer his question, I observe the way Preston’s fingers dig into his bicep enough to pierce through the suit jacket and draw blood to tarnish the pristine fabric.
“Are you going to kill him?”
“Yes.”
His name is a warning on my tongue. “Preston…”
“Don’t first-name me, darling. You know I will the moment you tell me. So put me out of my misery so I can finally put you out of yours by killing the fucker.”
“You can’t—”
“You better end that sentence with ‘because I’m going to.’ I’ll stand by your side and get just as much satisfaction from you claiming his death when his corpse drops to its knees before I fall to mine willingly for you.”
I can’t withhold my nervous smile at that. It doesn’t stop me from trying, as I pull my lip between my teeth.
The waiter pushes through the door, the sound making me jump. I didn’t have time to review the menu fully, so Preston ordered us the weekly special. Apparently, he said I can’t go wrong with anything on the menu. I’m thankful I didn’t have to rush and choose, since my mind is thinking of all the ways Preston could carve out Xander’s organs with his knife.
Over the next twenty minutes, we share stories about our childhoods. I talk about growing up in Oregon, and he shares his experiences of being raised in Ireland before Arden permanently moved their family to the estate in Maine when Preston was fourteen. Oh, and apparently his full name is Preston Thomas Lachlan Megalley. His great-grandparents, back in the day, thought naming a town after the mob was too suspicious and decided to use a double surname. Lachlan is from his great-grandmother, while Megalley is from his grandfather.
He doesn’t mention his sister and mother much, but I didn’t press the issue. Preston’s body has been pulled tight ever since he asked for Xander’s name, and I wouldn’t enlighten him.
Instead, I can’t help but eagerly ask, “Will I get to see it?”
He lifts a brow as the waiter starts setting our food down in front of us. “See what?”
“The estate in Ireland. I’ve never left the country before.”
He smirks. “I’ve never brought a girl home to meet my grandparents.”
My eyes widen. “Your grandparents? They live in Ireland?”
He nods, removing the folded cloth napkin from beside his plate and spreading it across his lap. “My dad's parents.” Damn. That means at one point, Preston’s grandfather was the boss. I can’t help but wonder what he’s like after running a mafia empire his entire life. If Preston’s father is this hard now, what is his grandfather like? “Gran gets attached easily. If I take you there, that would mean it’s serious.”
My face falls. “Oh. I get it. It’s too soon.” My stomach shouldn’t be sinking like this. It's only our first date.
His eyes hold mine with an intensity that demands my body’s attention. “I…like you, Kate. I’d take you next week if you’d let me. But I didn’t want to say that and scare you off, especially since you said we barely know each other. I know how I feel, but I’m not going to rush how you do.”
That admission has heat pooling in my belly.
