Alexei’s intel baffled me. There were too many players on the board and all I got from his twisted pep talk was a sickening sense we were running out of time.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened the text thread I shared with Embry. He hadn’t responded in so long I had to scroll and scroll before I found the last message he’d sent me, the morning we’d parted ways, thinking I was heading out on the haulage run without him.

  Embry: don’t drive so slowly it takes you a week to come home

  I’d read that message a thousand times that day alone, pulling it apart, word by word, searching for a meaning that was just him and me in a world so simple it had to be a fucking dream. The best I’d come up with was that he was gonna miss me, and fuck, if knowing it hadn’t made me feel ten feet tall.

  I scrolled down again fast enough that my unanswered texts blurred.

  Then I typed another. No more apologies, just the truth.

  Mateo: I miss you.

  23

  EMBRY

  Four weeks.

  “Happy Birthday.” I extended a hand to help Rubi sit up. Then I brandished the builder’s tea I’d learned over the last month he couldn’t function without. “How does it feel to be thirty-three?”

  Rubi slow-blinked, still half asleep. I searched his gaze for signs of the headache he hadn’t mentioned yesterday, but he looked okay.

  After a beat, he took the mug and gave me a quiet grin. “Same as it did to be thirty-two and trapped in a high-rise prison.”

  I glanced around the luxury penthouse. “I’ve seen worse cells than this.”

  “Know you have, Em. Sorry. I ain’t thinking straight yet.”

  “That a thing? Thinking straight?”

  Rubi chuckled into his tea. “Not in our house, mate.”

  He spoke with a mix of his Irish and cockney roots, half Cam, half Mateo, with a little bit of Devon thrown in for good measure, and the mere sound of his voice relaxed me.

  The big brother none of us had ever had.

  He drew me close for a one-armed hug and ruffled my hair. Then he set his mug aside and leaned back to stretch, sore from another day sleeping on Alexei’s couch. “Where are the girls?”

  “Bathroom. I think it’s hair-wash night.”

  “For them or for us?”

  I smiled a little, but it was bittersweet. Liliana was beautiful, sweet, and kind, but it was painfully clear she wasn’t used to having choices or making decisions for herself. The only thing she seemed sure of was her instant affection and trust for me and Rubi.

  “It’s not instant for her,” Juana had explained. “Mateo talked of you so often, and Saint too, that she already knows who you are to her.”

  I dreamed of the day Saint got to spend time with this magical little girl, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t see it happening any time soon.

  It had been four weeks.

  Four fucking weeks. I blew out a sigh and flopped back on the couch. My day shift guarding the penthouse was coming to an end, but I wouldn’t take my turn on the couch until later. Mateo’s daughter slept less than she ate, and I liked to spend a little time with her.

  She was good company, unlike the birthday boy who was lost in his tea mug again.

  I nudged Rubi.

  He grumbled under his breath.

  “What?”

  “I’m just ruminating how weird it is to not know shit about what’s going on. Can’t decide if I like it or not.”

  “I like it.”

  Rubi eyed me over his mug. “Because you get to drown in denial over Mateo?”

  Irritation prickled my skin.

  I swallowed it down. “I’m not denying anything.”

  “Not speaking to him, though, are ya? I’ve seen those texts you’re ignoring.”

  “Stop looking at my phone.”

  “No.” Rubi drained his mug and set it on the floor. Alexei wasn’t a fan of furniture, apparently. “I’m the one who’s gotta talk to him when you won’t, and it’s fucking killing him.”

  I sighed. “This how you want to spend your birthday, brother? Getting in my face about things I can’t change?”

  “Pick up the phone. Bob’s your uncle. Changed.” Rubi spread his hands as if that was it.

  I disagreed. When I closed my eyes at night, I still heard myself screaming in Mateo’s face, him snarling in mine, and guilt twisted my insides.

  “Em. Please. I love you.”

  So much pain. So much love.

  And all I’d given him in return was anger.

  “I can’t hear his voice if I can’t touch him, see him, fucking smell him. Not when things are so weird between us.” An errant thought I hadn’t meant to speak aloud, but understanding warmed Rubi’s gaze.

  “I get that, bro. But silence is toxic. It plays with your head. Sooner or later you’ll start hearing shit he never said. Thinking shit you don’t believe. Life’s too short for that, believe me—oh, hey, Mama.”

  Juana stepped into the room, her short dark curls wet from the shower, a dark green robe wrapped around her body.

  Her belly had popped in recent days, her baby bump showing through her clothes. She never talked about it, or her dead lover, but the sadness in her eyes sucked the air from the room.

  I stood and gestured for her to sit.

  She shook her head. “Can we talk, Embry? Alone?”

  Rubi started to get up.

  Juana stayed him with a raised hand. “In the kitchen. I’m going to make dinner .”

  I’d spent all day in the kitchen, watching the surveillance footage on Alexei’s laptop. The corridors, the front door, the lobby downstairs, and the underground car park, taking a shower my only reprieve. If I never heard the hum of the swanky fridge again in my whole life, it’d be too soon. But talking was my job, for my brothers, for my family, and Juana was family now.

  She led me to the kitchen. It was bigger than the poky galley Cam cooked in at the clubhouse, more burners on the hob and a fancy extractor fan, but it was cold and sterile, even with the lives of four people scattered on the marble countertops.

  I hated it. “What are you going to cook?”

  “Tortilla.” Juana opened the fridge and pulled out chicken, spinach, and eggs, the only groceries Alexei regularly had delivered.

  “If anyone checks the bags before they reach you, what’s inside must be nothing out of the ordinary.”

  Lucky us.

  I watched Juana cook, wishing she was Mateo. Was it weird that recalling him mashing a pot of potatoes made my dick jump?

  Probably. I pushed the memory aside, but all I got in its place was more heat in my blood. I didn’t think about him fucking me. I thought about him kissing me, holding my face, and exploring my mouth with his silky tongue. About his warm palms on my skin and the skate of his calloused fingers against my scarred belly.

  I thought about him loving me and, mother of Christ, how selfish I’d been, in the face of fucking death, not to tell him I loved him too.

  You might not get the chance now. If Esteban comes for him.

  Juana sidled up to me. “Can I show you something?”

  “Of course.” I buried the bone-grating fear and smiled at her. “What is it?”

  She thrust a thick paper book into my hands. “It’s Lili and Mateo’s sketch pad. They’ve been working on this one for the last four years.”

  “Four years?”

  “It takes a while when they don’t get much time together. Some months she wouldn’t see him at all, though we knew he was out there, watching. These drawings were how they communicated.”

  “How did that work?”

  “There was a place close to the stables. We’d leave the pad and he’d take it away for a few weeks.”

  I turned the pad over in my hands, wondering if I’d seen it before. Mateo was a doodler—he drew on everything, no rhyme or reason—that you know of. We’d been six months into our friendship before I’d realised how good he was. A week later, I’d had his work on my skin, along with his secret daughter’s bank details.

  If I thought too hard about that, my eyes burned.

  I opened the sketch pad instead and flipped through the pages. Charcoal drawings greeted me, dozens of them, all intricate and beautiful. Horses, of course. Flowers. Butterflies. Fairies.

  Helter-skelters and fairground wheels.

  I paused on that page, love flooding my chest. The drawings weren’t quite the same as the ink on my arm, but I recognised the style. “When did he draw this?”

  Juana drifted back from the stove. “He didn’t. That’s Lili’s and she was about seven, I think.”

  “Seven?” My mouth dried out. Wow. This kid was crazy talented. Just like her dad. “Did she draw my tattoo?”

  Juana smiled. “Not all of it, but that’s why I wanted to show you this. I know it’s bothering you that she’s so . . . in your face.”

  “We talked about this already. It’s fine.”

  “Is it? What if Liliana forms a bond with you, and you walk away from Mateo? What happens then?”

  “We’re brothers.”

  Juana gave me a look that only a woman could. “Leave your motorbikes at the garage, Embry. What then? I don’t think you understand how much of his life away from us is committed to you. How much he loves you. When you got hurt . . . he was so pale for so long I thought he’d been stabbed too. I made him show me that he hadn’t been.”

  On cue, my stomach threw up a toe-curling cramp.

  I ignored it. Let Juana’s arresting stare ensnare me. “If you want me to stay away from Liliana, I can do that.”

  Juana rolled her eyes to the penthouse ceiling. “I want you to tell him you love him. To give him the security and warmth he’s never had, but that he somehow found the strength to give to us when we turned his whole life upside down. It was my fault, you know . . . that we had Liliana. I told him I was on the pill so it didn’t matter when the condom was expired. I didn’t understand the consequences, and he’s had to live with that ever since.”

  There was a lot to unpack in that, but Rubi filled the kitchen before I could begin to try. “Incoming.” He waved his phone. “We have a visitor.”

  The only visitor we’d had so far was Alexei. Every few days I’d wake up to find him teaching Liliana maths in the early hours of the morning. He never called ahead, though, which told me we were expecting someone else.

  Mateo.

  My heart leapt, but Rubi caught my gaze and shook his head. “Decoy. Fuck knows why, but you need to open the door and give him a cuddle. Let anyone watching think he’s here for an orgy.”

  “Decoy? Seriously?”

  Rubi smirked. “It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch.”

  My life was a fucking theme park. Rubi took Juana and rounded up Liliana to herd them into the only bedroom, weapon in hand, in case it was bullshit and Decoy was . . . well, a fucking decoy.

  I grabbed a hammer from our stash, tucked it into the back of my jeans, and stamped into my boots, ready to fight. It was highly unlikely that anyone had coerced Decoy of all people, but we were protecting Mateo’s family. His daughter and his pregnant . . . something. Too careful didn’t exist.

  One eye on the surveillance app on my phone, I ventured to the door and glued my eyes to the peephole. Nothing happened for long enough that I gave myself eye strain. Then finally, Decoy appeared.

  He had pizza.

  Fuck me, he had pizza.

  And what looked like a bottle of vodka in his back pocket, but I ignored that and wrenched the door open.

  Decoy rotated to fully face me, strict shoulders squared, ready for battle or an out-of-context hug. For him, it was all the same.

  I tugged him into an embrace I hoped was enthusiastic enough for anyone watching to believe he was here to hook up with me and Alexei.

  Then I gave him a genuine peck on the cheek because, fuck me, that pizza smelled good.

  I yanked him inside.

  Decoy let it all happen, stoic as always, expression so steady it was hard to believe he was real.

  The pizza was real, though. Mother of Christ, please let it be real.

  The door shut behind Decoy.

  Reading me, he handed me the giant pizza box. “Alexei thought you might be sick of eggs and chicken.”

  “He’s not with you?”

  “Downstairs. Chatting up the doorman while he checks the place out.”

  I turned towards the kitchen, trusting Decoy would follow. “And you’re here for an orgy, right?”

  “Apparently so.” Decoy’s tone didn’t change. He trailed me to the kitchen doorway and stopped there, surveying the scene, expression only shifting when he spotted Juana. “Hello. You look well.”

  Juana ventured forward, eyes on the pizza box. “Thank you. Is that for us?”

  “It is.”

  “I’ll get Liliana.”

  Decoy stepped aside so she could slip past him. Once she was gone, he reached into his pocket and set a paper bag on the side. “Prenatal vitamins for her. Vitamin D for Liliana, seeing as she’s not getting any sunlight.”

  I winced. It was a rare day Decoy didn’t spend every hour possible outside with Ivy. Liliana had been cooped up four weeks. A month. “This can’t go on.”

  Decoy nodded. “It’s not going to. I don’t know what the plan is, though. I don’t know anything.”

  I believed him, which made his presence in Alexei’s flat even less logical.

  He caught my curiosity and shrugged. “It’s the summer holidays. Ivy is with her mum for two weeks so I needed a distraction. Plus, I promised her I’d bring Rubi his birthday present.”

  “Present?” Rubi appeared and hawk-eyed the pizza box. “Is that for me?”

  “It’s for all of you.” Decoy stuck his hand in his other pocket. “This is your present.”

  He took Rubi’s wrist and tied a plaited bracelet around it that matched mine. His was hot pink, which suited him down to the ground, as now I was lucky enough to know he didn’t own a single pair of boxers that weren’t the same colour.

  Rubi grinned. Then narrowed his gaze at me. “Your birthday was in July, so I get why you’ve got one, but how come Mats got his early, huh? I’m the dude who had his nails painted three times in one week.”

  I spread my hands. “Maybe it takes a while for little fingers to weave them.”

  “Fuck off. It’s Deeks who sits up all night making them.”

  Decoy laughed. “I probably would, but she’s got these down. Um . . .” He shot me an awkward glance. “Mateo actually taught her to make them. I asked him about it the other day and he said he used to spend hours on YouTube trying to figure out how to be a fun dad.”

  I was still holding the massive pizza box. With rocks in my throat, I laid it on the counter and moved to the sink.

  Alexei’s glasses were all heavy and crystal. I filled one with water.

  Didn’t drink it.

  “How’s he doing?” Rubi asked.

  I felt Decoy’s shrug. Knew it meant nothing. That his words were going to kill me all over again.

  “He’s existing. Saint’s with him most of the time, but honestly, I don’t know how long he’s gonna hold out before he loses his shit.”

  It was a lot for Decoy to say at once. He didn’t have a speech disorder like Saint; he was just a quiet man. One who kept his opinions to himself. That he felt the need to voice one now told me all I needed to know about Mateo’s state of mind. “Is he drinking?”

  Decoy waited for me to look at him before he answered. “No one is. No time when the Crows are raiding the sites every other night.”

  “How do they have the manpower for that when they get the shit kicked out of them every time?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  I exchanged a glance with Rubi.

  He nodded. “Same as before. They’ve got extra muscle from somewhere.”

  “Sambini?”

  “Or Esteban. All the same at this point if they’ve joined forces.”

  I swallowed bile. The pizza was beginning to smell like puke and Alexei’s swanky kitchen was closing in on me. I rounded on Rubi. “Why’d you ask him that? I told you earlier I didn’t want to fucking know.”

  “That’s not what you said, bro.”

  Close enough. I blazed fire at Rubi.

  He dead-eyed me back, all the while typing something on his phone, probably grassing me up to Cam for being an arsehole.

  “Children.”

  We all jumped at the new voice in the room, gazes snapping to where Alexei stood in the doorway.

  Rubi snorted out a laugh. “That’s it. I’m definitely calling you Casper from now on.”

  “I am not a friendly ghost.” Alexei almost smiled. Then his cool gaze landed on me. “Chaplain, you seem stressed.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You can be fine and stressed. Stressed and fine. No?”

  “Leave me alone.” I fought to keep my tone even. Calm. Steady. All the things that didn’t come naturally to me when I was caught up in my own shit.

  “. . . you take on everyone else’s fuckery to hide from your own . . .”

  “For fuck’s sake.” My hands balled into fists. I wanted to Hulk smash Alexei’s shiny cabinets, but I couldn’t stand the smugness I’d get in return.

  I left the room and made for the balcony, grateful I was the only one, bar Alexei, who was allowed outside.

  It was a warm night, muggy, air thick with the threat of a thunderstorm. The balcony was barren, nothing out there except an ashtray and a box of Russian cigarettes. I shook one from the pack for something to do but didn’t light it. I slid down the wall and looked out over the Bristol skyline while I rolled it between my fingers.

  I wanted it to rain. I wanted thunder and lightning to lash the night sky so I felt some harmony with Mother Nature, because right now, my whole life felt like a cruel trick. Mateo had lied to me the entire time I’d known him. His reasons made my heart weep for him, and any anger I’d felt the last time I’d seen him . . . I was over it. But I couldn’t see a clear path forward.

  Juana was right: I couldn’t get closer to Liliana if the dream Mateo had sold her was already dead. But fuck. I loved her. How could I not? She was creative, kind, and beautiful.