This night has been a fucking clusterfuck. Pulling my phone out, I send a text to Caleb.
I need you. Maddox Mercer’s car in the drive. Get rid of it without anyone seeing you.
I watch the dots dance.
Understood.
Turning to Freya, I hold my hand to her and wait with bated breath for her to take it.
When her warm palm closes over mine, I move.
Thirty-Two
Freya
Music hums through the house from a reception room down the hall, followed by the sounds of sexual moans. So, this is the type of party he was hosting. We make it up three steps when a man calls out to Noah. “Retiring so soon?”
Noah jerks his head for me to go up without him, but I don’t want to. I get to the top of the staircase and linger, listening to their conversation. “Remi got himself in some legal trouble,” Noah informs him, folding his arms.
“So, you’ve been left babysitting.” The man’s eyes look up to me, a knowing smile hooking his lips. He has the same predatory stare as the man Noah just murdered.
He moved with such skill, familiarity…this wasn’t his first kill. I knew that, but it’s different when you’re presented with it in person. See it a heartbeat away.
“Is everything going satisfactory with our guest of honor?” Noah asks him, so at ease, you’d never know he’d just squeezed the life from someone moments before.
“He has an insatiable appetite. I may need to bring some reserves in to sate him.” His attention snares on something over Noah’s shoulder just outside the tall, floor-to-ceiling window. “For fuck’s sake, I told that idiot not to drive his car out of here,” he growls, heading for the front door, retching it open. “Maddox?” he booms at a retreating car.
Noah’s posture stiffens as he surveys the car leaving down the gravel driveway.
The man returns, slamming the door closed. “If he gets picked up for a DUI, I’m going to cut his balls off,” he announces. “Anyway, don’t let me keep you.” He winks up at me and stalks off.
Getting to my room, I toe my shoes off and grab a sweater to warm my cold arms. “Are you okay?” Noah asks, standing at the threshold.
“No.” I throw my hands up, allowing them to collapse at my sides. “When will Remi be home?” I just want to slap him for being so stupid and snuggle with him to feel safe—to erase this fucking night from my memory.
That man is just down there, dead. “What will you do with him?”
He stares at me, eyes darting over his shoulder, then he moves into my room, closing the door behind him. He takes my hands, ushering me to sit on the bed, dropping to his knees at my feet.
“Don’t’ think about that. I need you to forget you ever met that man.”
“Who is he?”
“An asshole. Believe me, you shouldn’t lose sleep over his life.”
“Will someone miss him, though? The men downstairs?”
“Yes, but he has enemies including the police.” Holding his palms to my knees, he ducks his head. “He’s not a good person.”
“Are we?” I ask, tipping his chin up to look at me.
“I want to be, but this who I am, Freya. I do what’s needed to protect what’s mine—what’s ours.”
“Am I?” I ask, my chest hurting.
“Are you what?”
“Am I yours?”
“I hope so. God, I really fucking hope so.” Pain, need, desire—it’s all there in his voice.
“Then hold me.” I drag him off his knees and into my bed.
Thirty-Three
Remi
Waving to the sour-faced police officer glaring at me, I say, “Thanks for the hospitality.” My lawyer pushes against my back, trying to get me the hell out of here before I fuck up again.
Damn, Freya is going to be so pissed. And Noah…hell, I may have to take a punch from him to make this right.
“So, Freya made it home?” I ask, the stupidly-expensive-and-worth-every-penny Mrs. Rhodes.
“That’s the information I have, yes.” She purses her lips, flicking her fingers over her phone. She stops walking when we get to her car. “I’ll drop you home.”
“Am I going to be billed for it?”
“Are you getting my time?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and gets inside when the door is opened for her.
“So, what happens now?” I ask once we’re well on our way back home.
“We use my contacts to find a way to make the evidence disappear.” She eyeballs me over the top of her phone. There’s judgement in her eyes, like I’m beneath her, a naughty kid needing mommy to bail me out. If I wasn’t crazy in love with Freya, I’d make a point of fucking Rhodes until she was a quivering mess and calling me “sir,” or maybe “master.”
“Did you hear me?” she snaps.
Fuck. No.
“Yes,” I lie.
“Good, I’ll be in touch.” She jerks her chin out the window. I’d been so lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed we’d pulled up at my gate.