Page 138 of A Vicious Love

The cover-up came off.

My hand tightened around the glass.

She wore a black bikini.

Small.

Thin ties at her hips. For a second, every rational thought in my head went silent.

Then Weston looked at her.

My glass cracked.

I looked down at it. Whiskey leaked over my fingers.

Again.

I was developing a problem with glass. I set the ruined drink aside and kept watching.

Sienna laughed when Lucille ran into the water and immediately screamed about the cold. Amara followed more carefully, holding Callum’s hand until a wave reached her knees. Elias dove straight in because Elias apparently had the survival instincts of a labrador with generational wealth.

Sienna stayed at the edge at first.

Her toes touched the water. Weston stood beside her, saying something I could not hear.

I didn’t need audio to know the shape of it.

Reassuring… something that made her look up at him. He held out his hand.

The whole office went still around me.

Sienna looked at it…then she took it.

She took Weston’s fucking hand.

He guided her into the water slowly, wave by wave, keeping his grip loose enough that she could let go whenever she wanted. She didn’t. Her free hand lifted her hair away from her face when the water reached her waist.

Weston laughed at something she said.

Then a wave hit them both.

Sienna stumbled into him.

His hand went to her waist.

My chair scraped back so hard it struck the wall behind me. For three seconds, I was standing without remembering I had moved.

Later, when they got out, I watched him hand her a hoodie around one in the morning. His hoodie. Crow crest with St. Cross branch signet. Sienna took it. I turned off the screen before I went down to the garage and drove to them myself.

The urge stayed under my skin until sunrise.

When morning came, I felt more possessive, and no where near rational.

The kind of possessive that made men in Harlan cross streets when they saw me coming, even before I gave them reason. The city had learned to read my moods like weather warnings. Today, every warning system should have gone red.

I showered, dressed in black, smoked three cigarettes before breakfast, and still smelled her on my hands.

Impossible.