Page 80 of A Vicious Love

The realization was so absurd I almost laughed.

I wanted the thing I had mocked. Turned it into a threat so ugly she had stopped reaching for me altogether.

Hand, please.

I missed it.

God help me, I missed it. How she held my hand, and traced my fingers while she talked too much. The next thought came very unfucking welcome.

Did I…

Did I like her?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

JAMISON

Usually, violence settled something in me. I spent three days tearing through Harlan’s underbelly the city owed me blood personally. Harrington routes collapsed. Parkington board started resigning for “health reasons” with the convenient timing of people who had been shown exactly how fragile health could become.

The hotel fire stopped looking like a wound and started looking like a warning I had answered.

Handled.

Still, the mood stayed.

Sienna.

I didn’t give a fuck.

That was what I told myself when I woke up after two hours of sleep and reached for a cigarette before my eyes adjusted to the dark.

I didn’t give a fuck when Harrison sent a message saying, Sunshine looked like she wanted to vanish last night. Good work.

I threw the phone across the office.

That wasn’t giving a fuck.

That was irritation.

I had a low tolerance for commentary from idiots.

Unfortunately, my brothers were the only idiots alive I tolerated commentary from.

They showed up on the fourth night, uninvited, at my private casino office.

Marcel came first, Harrison followed him with a drink in hand, and the expression of a man hoping the room might become entertaining enough to justify leaving his own problems.

Emmie wasn’t with them.

Good.

I liked Emmie, which meant I didn’t want her looking at me with those disappointed eyes that made me feel like I had kicked something small.

I stood behind my desk, reviewing a list of Harrington assets marked for seizure.

“Get out,” I said.

Harrison dropped into the chair opposite me. “Warm as ever.”