Then keeping my gaze locked on Viper’s, I keep moving until I’m standing right in front of him, my finger digging into his wide, inked chest as fury and betrayal rock through my body. “How the hell could you do this to me?”

  16

  VIPER

  Rage fires through my veins as I stare down at the woman who’s somehow managed to evade every one of my fucking advances for over six long years. My hands ball into fists at my side, my jaw clenching as I try to control myself, but I see it in her eyes, she’s all fired up and not even close to letting it go. Hell no, Kyah is only just getting started, and I can’t trust that whatever’s about to fly out of her mouth isn’t going to land me in hot water, no matter if I had anything to do with it or not.

  My hand snaps up, closing around the back of her neck, and as her eyes widen, I drag her away, slipping into the shadows and disappearing from the street like a fucking ghost. I take her down the closest alley, and once we’re completely concealed by the building, I push her up against the wall and drop my hand, but I don’t dare release her from my stare. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

  Tears run down her face, and the anger flooding her eyes is clearly enough for her to forget who the fuck she’s talking to as she shoves her small hands against my chest, trying to push me away. “You heard me,” Kyah spits. “You did it, didn’t you? You killed him.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “Bullshit,” she cries. “You said it yourself. You said if he ever hurt me, you’d . . . you’d—”

  “I’d what?”

  She shoves at my chest again. “You’d kill him.”

  My gaze narrows, and I pull back just an inch, hanging onto her words as she furiously wipes the tears off her face, and the more she does, the clearer the ugly bruise across her jaw becomes. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I growl, gripping her chin and forcing her head up to better see her bruised jaw. “He did this? Crew fucking touched you, and I’m only just finding out now?”

  Heat blasts through my veins, and I can barely hold onto the rage, needing to make the bastard suffer for what he did to her. Crew knew she belonged to me, he knew she would be my old fucking lady. He had no right to touch her. I knew they’d been fucking and had screwed around in the past, and I was down to let it go. I expected her to have fun, but there’s an unspoken rule when fucking with a woman who doesn’t belong to you—you keep your fucking hands off her. You treat her right. And this . . .

  FUCK.

  I step back from her, my hands at my temples. “I could fucking kill him for this,” I spit, unable to regain control.

  “It’s too late for that,” Kyah throws back at me. “You already did.”

  “I swear, Kyah,” I rumble, clenching my hands into tight fists. “Say those fucking words one more time, and I’ll end you right here on the fucking street. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  She shrinks away from me, and I clench my jaw, regretting my choice of words, but at some point, she needs to remember who the fuck she’s dealing with. I might want her as my old lady, and I’ll end up taking her by force if it comes to it, but she needs to learn to respect me, otherwise, our time together isn’t going to be fun for her.

  Kyah tips her head back against the wall, breathing heavily. “You really didn’t do this?” she questions, her tone finally starting to simmer as she gathers herself, finding the control I’m still desperately searching for.

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “Then why are you here?” she pushes. “How did you just know to show up?”

  I let out a heavy breath, finally finding just a shred of control and clinging to it like my life depends on it. “I’m the Vice President of the Grim Reapers, Kyah,” I remind her. “I make it my fucking business to know. If someone, even assholes as fucking low as Crew Ledger, is murdered in my town, then you can guarantee that I’ll be there.”

  Hearing noise from the main street, we both turn to look, and I feel at ease seeing a few of my men hovering at the end of the alley. I have to give it to them, they have balls showing up here, especially considering that more than a few of them have warrants out for their arrest and that the street is crowded with cops, some a little more crooked than the others.

  Turning back to Kyah, I find her gaze already on them with the kind of determination that reminds me just how strong she is. That’s exactly why I want her to be mine. At some point, I’ll step up as President of the Grim Reapers, and when that happens, I’m gonna need a strong woman at my side, someone who’ll keep me grounded and turn a blind eye to the bullshit. I’m still trying to figure out if she can handle that last part, but I think she’ll be alright.

  “The other day,” she says, her voice breaking, “you said Crew was no good for me, that he wasn’t a good guy—”

  “Kyah,” I breathe, stepping right into her and bracing my arms on the wall beside her, caging her in as I tip my head, my forehead just an inch from hers. “Don’t ask me what you’re about to ask me.”

  “He was one of my best friends, Viper. I knew him for six years, and after the past few days, I’m starting to wonder if I even knew him at all. I need to know,” she says, her chest heaving. “What was he involved in?”

  I clench my jaw, reluctant to have this conversation with her. He was a piece of shit, and he was involved in some unsavory business, but it all came back to his bastard brother. Hell, if he wasn’t around, I’m sure Crew might have been able to keep his nose clean, but his brother made sure that if he was going down, he was gonna drag Crew down with him.

  Mason Ledger is solely responsible for the biggest human trafficking ring in the state, and to be honest, I don’t know how the bastard is pulling it off considering he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. Twelve months ago, Crew got himself in trouble, and instead of doing the right thing and working his ass off to repay his debt, he borrowed money from his big brother with the condition that if he fails to pay him back, Mason will take payment in the form of Kyah. Naturally, Crew’s overinflated ego agreed to the deal.

  He had only a few weeks left before his time was up, and it was no surprise when I found Crew in my fucking clubhouse, begging on his knees for me to find a way to save Kyah, and of course, I would have. I already have my plan in place for when the time comes, but considering Crew is now dead, perhaps my plan needs to change. Whether Crew is dead or not, Mason will still come looking for what he’s owed, only now there’s no reason to wait.

  “It’s not my business to get into, Ky, and if you were smart, you wouldn’t go looking for answers.”

  “Viper—”

  “No,” I growl, my hand falling to her waist and squeezing tight. “Don’t fucking push me on this. Crew was a piece of shit, and I’m not getting myself involved by opening my fucking mouth. That’s all you need to know, so do yourself a favor and keep your eyes open and don’t go looking for information, otherwise, you’ll end up just like Crew.”

  Ky’s eyes widen, fear blasting through her bright blue stare, and while I hate scaring her like that, it’s for the best. There’s no reason to tell her what Crew was involved in, no reason to have her constantly looking over her shoulder.

  She has me. She’ll be fine.

  Spider clears his throat from the opening of the alley, and as I glance back toward him, he nods, silently letting me know it’s time to get out of here. I turn my attention back to Ky, stepping back to give her space. “Get out of here, Ky. Go home,” I tell her. “The cops will eventually start asking more questions and when they do, keep your mouth shut. Don’t tell them you were at the shop yesterday. Don’t tell them he hurt you. As far as the cops were aware, you were home all day. I’ll give you an alibi if I have to.”

  Ky visibly swallows, but she continues to hold my stare before finally nodding. “Okay,” she says in a small tone.

  “Good,” I say, pressing my hand to her lower back and giving her a nudge to get moving. “Now go home. You don’t need to be here.”

  Kyah moves out from the wall, her hands shaking at her sides as the tears continue to well in her eyes. “If I find out you’re lying to me, and you really did have something to do with this . . .”

  She lets her words fall away, her empty threat sitting between us, and I’m not going to lie, I don’t fucking like it. People have lost their lives for making comments like that to me, but when it comes to Kyah Bailey there’s not a lot I wouldn’t forgive.

  Besides, she’s free to make any assumption she wants; it doesn’t change anything. She still belongs to me, whether she fucking wants to or not.

  17

  KYAH

  By the time I push through the door of my apartment, I’m a blubbering mess. My eyes hurt from crying, and honestly, I don’t even remember the walk home. All I can think about is Crew. How I’ve let him down. How I didn’t really know him. How the past six years were all a lie. Did he even really care for me or was I just some naive girl to pass the time?

  Shit. I should have stayed after our fight. I should have tried to work things out with him. Maybe then he would have left the shop and he’d still be alive. But how could I have stayed after what he did? Maybe if he’d been the one to leave and I was the one to stay . . . would it have been me who was attacked? Would I be the one currently rotting in the city morgue?

  The guilt tears at me, and after throwing my things onto the couch, I stumble straight into the bathroom. Hanging my head into the sink, I splash cold water over my face as though that could somehow make the pain go away.

  He was supposed to be my future, and now . . . he’s gone.

  Just like that.

  I don’t know what to think or how to process this. On one hand, I want to hate him for how he acted, but on the other, how am I supposed to just disregard six years? Does one mistake erase all the good times?

  Panic pulses through my veins, and I take deep, calming breaths, trying to find clarity and grasp what little control I have, just like Viper in the alley. I saw him ready to snap, and I knew he was losing control, but I couldn’t stop myself from pushing him. It’s as though I needed the people around me to feel what I was feeling just so I wasn’t alone, and Viper did just that. He allowed me to push him and to say things he wouldn’t usually tolerate.

  After splashing more water over my face, I straighten up, finally feeling my mind start to settle. Grabbing the small hand towel, I dry my face before tossing it onto the bathroom counter. As I stride out into my living room, I’m hit with a cool breeze.

  My brows furrow, and I glance across the apartment, finding my living room window wide open.

  What the fuck? I know I was in my own world when I was leaving for work this morning, but I know damn well that I wouldn’t have left with the window open like that. That’s just asking for trouble. But hell, it’s not the first time I’ve done something stupid. After all, stupid seems to be my specialty lately.

  Shivers race down my spine and I hurry across my apartment, quickly shutting and locking the window. As I turn back, visions of Crew’s lifeless body beneath that sheet haunt my mind and I make my way into my bedroom, grabbing the pillow and comforter off my bed before trudging back out to my couch. I make myself comfortable in front of the TV, not that I’m actually going to watch it, but right now, I need some form of distraction. Anything will do.

  I snuggle up, cuddling my pillow to my chest as I clutch my phone in my hand, desperate to hear the familiar ding of one of Crew’s incoming texts, even if it was one of his asshole-ish ones that I’ve been getting lately.

  A knock sounds at the door, and I lift my head off the armrest before dropping it right back down, too emotionally exhausted to get up off the couch. I don’t call out, don’t bother to do anything apart from hope whoever it is will go away. Only the knocking sounds again and I groan. “I know you’re in there, Mace.”

  Shit.

  Letting out a sigh, I keep my gaze locked on the blank TV screen. “It’s open,” I murmur, not sure if I’ve projected my voice enough for him to hear through the closed door, but he seems to have heard it just fine when the door creaks open a moment later.

  My gaze shifts toward the door, finding Alex standing directly below the mistletoe monster dildo, and despite the very sight of him, I can’t even pretend to smile. Taking me in, his brows furrow, and he quickly steps inside the door and closes it behind him. “You good, Mace?”

  Shifting my gaze back to the blank TV, I shake my head, not trusting myself to say the words out loud without falling to pieces.

  Alex watches me a moment longer before muttering something to himself and quickly crossing my apartment. He welcomes himself onto my couch, lifting the blanket over him before grabbing hold of me and pulling me right into the warmth of his strong arms. “What happened?” he questions, his hand cradling the back of my head and holding me close.

  “My . . . my friend was killed last night.”

  “Shit,” he mutters, holding me tighter as the tears begin to spill all over again, and yet Alex doesn’t seem to care how they soak into his shirt. He just keeps holding me as though he’ll never let go, and it’s the most welcoming place I’ve ever been. “I’m sorry, Ky.”

  I shake my head, wanting to tell him that he has nothing to be sorry for, that this wasn’t his fault, but I can’t find the strength to form the words. Then as the emotional trauma quickly catches up to me, I fall into a fretful sleep right there, sprawled out across his chest as his fingers move back and forth over my hip.

  The memory of Crew’s lifeless body assaults my mind, and I’m jarred awake, gasping for air. A set of strong arms lock around me, holding me in place, and I quickly realize that I’m still lying on the couch, using Alex as my personal pillow. “Shit,” I mutter, cringing as I rub my sore, puffy eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he murmurs into the quiet room, a muted hockey game taking up residence on my TV.

  I swallow hard, my mouth dry as I try to find my bearings. “How long was I out?”

  “Uhhhh,” he says, his gaze shifting to the armrest as he lights up the screen of his phone. “A little over two hours.”

  “Two hours? Shit,” I say again, trying to pull myself off his chest, but Alex tightens his hold on me again, refusing to let me go, and honestly, I’m not disappointed. “I hope I haven’t ruined your plans for the day.”

  “It’s all good, Mace,” he says, tipping his chin and pressing a feather-soft kiss to my temple. “I don’t want you worrying about that. Not today.”

  I nod, lifting my head to meet his gaze, my brows furrowed as I find myself completely taken by this perfect stranger. He’s been everything over these past few days, and he has somehow kept my mind off the most horrendous things and made me feel as though everything is going to be okay.

  The tension burns between us, growing stronger and brighter by the second. His fingers dig into my hip, and then finally, he closes the distance, tipping his head until his lips brush over mine in the sweetest kiss.

  My hand slides up his strong chest and around the back of his neck, holding on to him as I scramble to my knees and straddle his lap. As I deepen the kiss, his hands rest at my hips.

  It’s everything I thought it would be, but he’s holding back. Despite the way he hardens beneath me, he's keeping it respectful. I know he’d rather take this a lot further, but he doesn’t strike me as the type to push the limits with an emotionally depleted girl.

  His lips move over mine just right as his tongue explores my mouth, and as a soft moan rumbles through my chest, his arms tighten around my back. As he pulls me in closer to his chest, I become completely overwhelmed by how damn good he smells.

  My fingers knot into his hair, and as the intrusive thoughts about the last guy I kissed in this apartment flash through my mind, I pull back, breathing heavily and tipping my forehead against his. “I’m sorry,” I say, gently shaking my head. “I just—”

  His hands fall back to my hips, his thumbs gently brushing back and forth. “Do you wanna tell me about it?”

  “I, umm . . . I don’t really know what to say,” I tell him, pulling back just an inch, my hand knotting into his shirt and giving me something to focus on apart from the way his dark eyes seem to penetrate right through to my soul.

  “You said it was a friend,” he prompts.

  A soft smile pulls at my lips. “He . . . sometimes,” I admit. “Sometimes he was a friend. Sometimes he was more. And sometimes he—” I cut myself off before I admit that sometimes he was the man who taught me how it felt to have someone you love betray you in the worst way.

  “He what, Kyah?” Alex pushes. I press my lips into a hard line, not wanting to keep going, when a sadness flashes in his dark gaze. He lifts his fingers to my face and gently skims across the bruise that marks my jaw, and I quickly realize that I never covered it up after washing my face earlier. “Did he give you this?”

  Shame fills me, and I drop my gaze, unable to meet his eye as I nod. “We got into a fight yesterday,” I tell him, my eyes filling with tears. “He was drunk and acting like a jerk, like I owed him something simply for existing. We’d gotten together earlier in the week, and since then . . . I don’t know. Everything shifted. He became possessive and angry, and then all of a sudden, people were warning me away from this guy even though he had been one of my closest friends for the past six years. Now that he’s gone, I don’t even know if I ever truly knew him at all.”

  “What happened, Mace?”

  “We got into a fight. I was yelling at him, just like I’ve done a million times before, but this time was different. He just snapped, and the next thing I knew, I was on the floor,” I tell him, an ugly heaviness resting on my shoulders and weighing me down. “I told him he was dead to me, and ran out of there, but if I knew that was the last time I would ever see him . . . I never would have said that. I wouldn’t have fought with him.”