“Why are we on the same side?” I asked, not minding it, but curious.
“Easier to talk quiet this way.” He sat closer and put a hand on my leg.
I stared at him and tried to ignore the roaring in my ears. I pressed my knees together, willing myself not to get so wet, and failing miserably. My nipples were hard, not from the chill—the bar was wet and sticky with humidity and a bead of sweat rolled down my back—but with excitement. I’d never reacted this physically to a person before.
All through it, my thoughts twisted in on themselves. There was Mal, big, handsome Mal. And Carmine, the man I should’ve married. And my dad, and Maxim. And those numbers.
Six four eight five.
I looked down at my fingers and tried to steady my breathing. I was on the edge of panic but I couldn’t lose myself now. Not right now.
“How did it go?” I hated how small my voice sounded.
His fingers tightened on my thigh. “Got away.”
I stared, lips falling open. “He’s alive?”
“Got away,” he repeated. “Had backup. Didn’t expect it.”
“Oh, god. What now?”
“He’ll resurface sooner or later. He’s hurt pretty bad. He’ll need a doctor. I need you to find him.”
I shook my head. “I got lucky the first time. I asked Rolando—”
“You did what?”
“He was distracted. I asked him about Clem and he mentioned the club. You did the rest.”
Mal chewed on that. “You shouldn’t take that kind of risk.”
“Oh, what, like you don’t?”
“It’s different.”
“Tell me how.”
“Cap, stop.”
I brushed his hand away. “Get something straight. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it for real. On equal terms. Understand?” I moved to get up, but he caught my wrist and pinned me back down.
“Stay. Stop it.”
I glared at him, but I didn’t move. “You still want me to try to find him?”
“Yes. Please.”
I nodded once. “Then I’ll do it my way.”
He chewed on that and didn’t look happy. “I can’t lose you too.”
I understood what he meant. I’d had the same thought since this all started. If he screwed up and got himself killed for real, I didn’t know how I could go on. I might not be able to. I tried to imagine following them both into the grave. Three friends in the prime of their lives. All dead, together. What a tragedy.
“I feel the same about you.”
“Then we’ll both be careful.” He left his hand on my leg. It felt good, having him there. “So, what’s he like?”
The abrupt shift confused me for a second. “Who, Clem?”
“No. The Russian.”
I let out a short laugh. It was involuntary and painful. Six four eight five.
“Maxim. He’s okay, I guess. He wanted to know if I had a choice in this whole arrangement.”
“That mattered?”
“To him it did. I said no at first, but realized that might blow everything up and backtracked.”
He nodded, although I saw something on the edges of his expression. Pain, discomfort. “Smart. Don’t want to piss your dad off.”
“Exactly. Don’t worry about Maxim. He’s nothing.”
“I wasn’t worried.” He moved closer. His hand moved further up my leg. I could feel my pulse there, in that wild, warm, wet place, and desperately wanted him to keep going. I tilted my chin in his direction. We were practically alone in the place. The other table had left, the old guy was fast asleep, and the bartender hadn’t looked away from the replay of the basketball game. All alone in this sweltering place, him and me. Locked alone together in this hell.
He leaned closer. His lips brushed against my neck. He breathed deep, smelling my hair. It sent a stupid tingle down my neck. “When do you have to be back?” he whispered.
“Soon. I don’t know.”
He pushed my legs open. He kissed my neck and I let out a soft breath.
“Cap,” he said. “This is fucked. We both know that, right?”
“Yeah, Mal. It’s fucked. But you’re not stopping.”
“No, I’m not. And you’d better not tell me to.”
“I won’t.”
His fingers reached my panties. He felt their wetness. I let out a soft moan as he kissed my lips. Bit them, licked my tongue, flipped my panties aside. Forced my knees wider. I gasped into his touch.
“I’m going to kill them all for him,” Mal whispered as his fingers slide inside my soaking pussy. Pleasure flooded me, pleasure mixed with anguish and shame. He spoke like it was his duty to mention Carmine. As a penance for what we were doing. “I broke Clem’s teeth out. Smashed his wrist. He won’t be going anywhere.”
“Fuck, Mal. I don’t want to hear this right now.”
His fingers went deeper. His thumb grazed against my clit as he curled along my G-spot. I gasped, shuddering, and he kissed me again. I moaned into his mouth.
“I’ll die before I let them go,” he said. “I’ll die before I let them hurt you. Fuck, Cap. You know what you do to me? You filthy fucking girl. This is wrong. We both know it’s wrong.”