Wicked Ever After (Wicked & Devoted 2)

“Yeah. This timing couldn’t fucking be worse. I’m sorry.” He took her hands and drew her closer, holding her against his body. “I leave for Mexico tonight.”

Shock ripped the air from her lunch. Dread gonged in her stomach. “Already?”

“Yeah. I wish like hell I’d had time to meet your dad first. Explain us. But now…there’s no way. Reporters and gossips will start flocking here soon. I can’t be seen anywhere near you. It could be weeks before the media swarm dies down. Besides, this shit with Montilla can’t wait.”

“I know you’re right, but…” Pierce leaving terrified her.

Brea had thought they would have more days and nights together…in case she needed to store up memories for a future without him. Some foolish part of her had even hoped that Emilo Montilla would forget about all this and move on. But unless someone put that man in the ground, Pierce never would. Every moment he stayed here with her in Louisiana was another moment the brutal drug lord might be planning his revenge, so it was another moment Pierce would sneak through her window in the middle of the night instead of living openly as her man and the father of their baby.

Until Montilla was gone, they had no future.

Brea wrapped her arms around Pierce. “I’m so afraid.”

“You’re going to be fine, pretty girl. Your daddy loves you. Yeah, he might be disappointed. He might lecture you or be angry with you. He might wish you’d made different choices. But he’ll stand by you.”

He thought Daddy’s anger was her first concern? “I know that.”

Funny, when she’d realized she was pregnant, she’d done so much hand-wringing about disappointing her father. She still worried about triggering another heart incident, and she’d need to manage that. But her fears about being Sunset’s “hussy” or losing all her clients? In the face of everything else, they hardly mattered now. If the people in this town didn’t like her or her life choices, they could go hang.

“I’m worried about you. Montilla is dangerous. He almost—”

“I’m going to do everything possible to come back in one piece. This time, I have the element of surprise, and I’m not playing by anyone’s rules except my own.” He cupped her face. “War is my business. Every time I’m on the job, I know it might be my last day. So I’m careful. I take precautions. But if I don’t come back, I’m still going to take care of you. You’ll have everything you need.”

Brea’s insides froze in terror. “Except you.”

Pierce shrugged those big shoulders of his.

He was trying to be responsible, and Brea did her best to appreciate that. But when she thought about living the rest of her life and raising their child without him, she couldn’t.

“Don’t go.” She latched on to him even tighter. “Let’s leave here. Go someplace where he can’t find us and—”

“I’m not looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. I’ve never run away from a fight, and I won’t put you or the baby at risk. I’ve got to do this. If it ends well, we’ll start our lives together. Focus on that while I’m gone, pretty girl.”

Brea tried not to lose her composure, but everything was happening so fast. And once he left here, she might never see him again. “How long will it take?”

“To kill Montilla? Might be a few days. Might be a few months. I need to find him, figure out a way to get close enough to observe him, learn his patterns, discern when and where he’s vulnerable…and it’s going to be a bitch. He likes to hunker down in compounds with lots of armed guards. He’s not light on the surveillance. Since he threatened me and mine, he knows I’m coming. I doubt he’ll make the mistake of spending much time alone.”

“Can’t you take someone with you to watch your back? Josiah or Zyron or…Cutter is due home in a few hours. He’d go—”

“No.”

The finality in his answer stabbed her with foreboding.

His heartbeat, loud and steady, filled her ears as tears spilled down her cheeks. Why couldn’t this bittersweet moment last forever? “You’re one man against a cartel. Don’t do this.”

“It’s what I’m trained to do. Please don’t worry.”

That was like asking her not to blink or to breathe. Or to love him. “I’ll try, but—”

“You’re strong. You can do it, pretty girl.” He cradled her face and wiped her tears away. “Do you want to spend the rest of our time together crying or feeling good?”

It would be so easy to lose herself in her fears, but if he was going into battle for them, for their future, he needed her comfort. He needed to know without a doubt that she loved him. He needed to be sure he had something to live for.

And she needed to press his body against hers—tattoo that feeling onto her heart—and memorize him.