Atonement (Master's Protege 2)

She leaves the office with Cudgel in tow, and when the door shuts, I’m alone with Cain.

Again.

God.

I don’t like being alone with him anymore.

“Okay, so I know I need to go but what other things did you get me? If you don’t tell me, I’ll be distracted the entire time. I have to know.”

He sighs.

“Bribery is a really low move. You’re better than that,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest so I don’t hug him. I can’t.

“This isn’t bribery. Skylar read me the riot act. She was right. I was wrong, and I should’ve been honest with you. She said to grovel. This, Violet, is me groveling. You’ll find those high-heeled boots in the closet when you pack to go.”

“Which ones?” I ask him hesitantly.

“All of them.”

All of them?

He doesn’t sound as if he’s trying to manipulate me, but I can’t help but wonder… is he?

And this is why we can’t work together anymore. I’ll always wonder if he’s trying to manipulate me, trying to get me back into his good graces. I can’t trust the man.

“The team’s assembled at the Willows,” he says in a tight voice, his eyes trained over my shoulder. The Salem Willows Park, thirty-five acres that border Salem’s waterfront, is so named because of the white willows planted along the walkways to offer shade. It’s highly populated during the summer, but in the cooler months, there are far fewer pedestrians and civilians nearby.

“It’s so crowded there, though,” I say thoughtfully.

He nods. “It won’t be. Joe’s making sure there will be very few people there when we arrive.”

I nod. I don’t even want to know how Joe’s planning this.

“Okay.”

“Let’s go. I’ll explain on the way.”

We’re halfway to the Willows when his phone rings. Henri.

“Yeah. What is it?” Cain has zero patience.

“I looked through the diary Violet’s mom left behind. All the initials correspond to the names of people who were killed on those dates, and I believe the number next to them corresponds with the payout she received. There were not one but two Castellano deaths attributed to unnamed snipers that year, sir. Not on public record, but I have some resources I pulled together.”

“Good to know. Have we found Armand’s location?”

Silence for a full minute.

“Henri?”

“We did, sir, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Why not?” Cain’s voice is tight. “Why the hell not?”

“Because he’s… he’s been here the whole time, sir. We found a camp in the basement that we thought was vacant, but now know he’s been using for his hiding spot. Not often by the looks of it, but he’s come here more than once.”

I curse under my breath.

“We fingerprinted the place and found for sure he was there. As for his current location, I suspect your plan to bait him at the Willows is sound, sir.”

They disconnect.

“He suspects,” Cain mutters. “Well, I suspect my staff’s in deep shit for not finding out Armand was sneaking around our property.”

I nod. “I understand.”

He looks at me sharply, then turns away again.

We pull up to the Willows, and he parks his truck. He blows out a breath when he faces me. “So…”

“So,” I respond, wrapping my arms on my chest.

“We’re supposed to pretend we’re in love.”

“Right, if he knows that you and I… aren’t…”

I don’t even know how to say it. It’s utter bullshit that because of his mistake, I feel wounded and hurt. Abandoned like I did when I was a child, because the one person I thought I could trust is a liar.

I am pretending, though. Do I have to pretend to care about the man who knows me inside and out? Who’s taken such good care of me these past four months? Who drew me out of the shell I lived in?

Who made me whole?

“How does one…” my voice is a little wobbly. “Pretend to love someone?”

His jaw clenches. “We could… kiss,” he says with a frown. “That’s a dead giveaway… I guess.”

How could I kiss him? How could I do anything with him right now? Is he frowning because he doesn’t want to kiss me? Knowing that I’m leaving, does he feel… repulsed by me?

I’m mentally warring with myself, my pulse racing.

He was the one who chose this.

He was the one that put me in this position to begin with.

Argh!

“Or,” he says thoughtfully, “we could… maybe—”

He thinks he won’t kiss me? He thinks I’m not worthy of his attention or something? Oh no. Oh hell no.

I reach for him. I frame his face with my hands and yank him down to me. He freezes for long seconds as our lips connect. My own body stills. Everything but my heartbeat.

The sun feels cold compared to the heat in his kiss. My heart flutters, sending little bolts of awareness to my fingertips. I melt when his tongue finds mine. His own deep, male groan echoes through my core, and when he releases my face long enough for his fingers to stab into my hair, I fade into heat and warmth and light.