“He’s your father.”
Eric’s lips thin and he cuts his stare before he looks back at me, those blue eyes hard, cold. “How have you been with this family this long and you don’t see how evil they are?”
A chill rolls down my spine. “What does that mean? Whatever it is that you think is going on, just say it.”
“My father’s the kind of man who could easily sit next to us, sip a drink, and watch while we took bullets that he paid to put in us, but it doesn’t stop there. He’d take one himself just to be sure he looks innocent. He’s that devious. It’s a mistake to assume he’s here to do anything but end us, which is exactly why I’ll end him first.”
“End him? What does that mean?”
He cuts his stare, and I grab his arm, pulling him around to me. “What does that mean, Eric?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Harper
Eric’s eyes glint when they meet mine. “What does that mean?” I repeat. “End him? End your father?”
Those blue, blue eyes of his, such intelligent eyes, meet mine. “As we said in the Navy: All in, all the time. It’s war. It’s us or them. Me or him. I have to be willing to do whatever it takes to make sure it’s me and us. I’m all in.”
“You’re avoiding a direct answer,” I accuse. “You want to end him how?”
He shackles my arm and pulls me to him. “I want this fucking family out of my life and yours,” he says, his voice low, rough. “And I want it to happen now.”
“I do, too, but the right way.”
“And what exactly is the right way, Harper? Do we let them kill you next time so they achieve whatever goal they set out to achieve when they were creating a bank account with your name on it?”
I shove against him and pull free, pointing at him. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Just a bastard?”
“What is wrong with you?” I demand.
“It’s called being born a Kingston.”
The SUV jerks to a sharp halt that sends me backward. Eric catches me and pulls me to him and our faces end up close, his breath warm on my lips. “I got you, remember?”
I soften instantly, my hands settling on his chest. “And I have you. That’s why I can’t let you do something you’ll regret.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to end this,” he says softly. “To protect you and if you hate me for it, hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” I lean back to look at him. “I’ll never hate you, but please don’t do something you’ll regret.”
The SUV starts moving again and then immediately halts. “Fucktard,” Savage growls. “Red light means stop.”
And just like that, Eric and I are laughing, and with that laughter, Eric’s mood shifts, and I can sense that he finds a quiet spot in his head. He strokes my hair and casts me in a tender stare that spreads through me like warm sun on a winter’s day, and with it is the promise that more warmth will follow.
There’s a loud honk and Savage growls again. “Shoot that finger, you bastard. We both know that if I got out of this Escalade and Green Beret’d your ass, you’d be sucking your thumb.”
Bastard.
I hate that word.
Eric laces his fingers with mine and winks. “Sometimes it takes a bastard to get the job done.”
“Or get everyone’s ass beat,?
?? Savage grumbles.