Page 116 of Beautiful Betrayal

Mia gets to Eric, too. I see that in the softening of his facial features that are normally steel and stone. And Eric is not an emotional man. He’s not a man of many words. He’s also a man with a blood family that treats him like shit, but I am his family, we’re his family now that Mia is back. Mia has driven home that point—she’s affected him in that way she does everyone around her.

“Well then,” Eric says, “I guess I better come all the way in then, shouldn’t I?” He squeezes her shoulder. “And your man there needs to put away that gun before he shoots one of us.”

Mia whirls on me but she says nothing. She knows I have the gun. She knows how to use it herself, but I want her to practice. I want her to become an expert. I want her to protect herself in every way possible. I seal the gun back in its drawer, and Axe and Savage head to the living room. Mia kisses my cheek and follows them, a silent understanding in her actions that I need a minute with Eric.

God, I really did miss this woman.

I close the space between me and Eric and while we don’t hug, we do lock palms. And I go one step further and grab his forearm with my free hand. “You’re not a damn SEAL anymore. Don’t do that shit again.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Eric assures me as we break the connection.

My jaw sets. “Yeah, fuck you too, man,” I say, which is not a statement I usually make. That’s not how I talk, that’s not who I am, but that’s exactly why it gets my point across.

He laughs and confirms that I am indeed accurate in that assumption. “Point made. You want to protect me. I want to protect you. But the good news is that we feel like this is over.”

My brow shoots up. “You feel? Since when do you give two coins about a feeling rather than a fact?”

“Since we’re backing that statement up with facts. Brian’s dead. The Dungeon killed him. They ended him because they don’t want him to be able to talk. They want this over. They don’t need him.”

“You’re sure it was them?”

“Blake picked up a plate on a traffic camera near the murder. That plate belongs to someone he’s identified as part of the Dungeon.” The doorbell rings. “And I hope that’s the half-dozen pizzas we ordered on the way over here. Savage and I haven’t eaten in hours.”

Now I laugh because only Eric would take it upon himself to order pizza to be delivered to my apartment and I’m damn glad he’s alive to do it.

A few minutes later, Mia and I are sitting on barstools with Eric and Savage across from us, and Axe at the endcap, all of us eating pizza. “The attorney Ri enlisted in his dirty deeds is dead,” Mia says. “I can’t quite get my head around that.”

“Good fucking riddance,” Savage, says, finishing off what I think is most of a pizza with record-breaking speed. “He was a lowlife. And they got rid of him because they didn’t need him anymore.”

“And that means what?” Mia presses.

“Here’s what we know,” Eric begins, finishing off a slice. “We were smart enough to walk away when we saw the safe wired to blow.”

Savage finishes that thought before Eric gets the chance. “Those Dungeon assholes showed up after we exited the house. Which we know because us smart guys were lurking in the bushes, the way all honorable men do and all. They blew themselves the fuck up, at least a few of them did. I hear those are the brand of asshole that grow like weeds, but never fear. Eric is here. He shoved a bunch of cash into that dweebattorney’s work safe and the rest of the Dungeon, the ones still alive, grabbed it and ran.”

I set my slice down, my gaze sharpening on Eric, who’s directly across from me. “How much money? And where did it come from?”

“Enough money,” Eric replies. “They won’t stay around to get busted, believe me.”

“Where did it come from?”

He arches a brow. “Does it matter?”

“If it came from your bank account, not mine, then yes. It matters.”

“You know I’d never spend your money without clearing it.”

“Exactly,” I say. “How much do I owe you?”

He shoots right back with, “It’s more about how much I owe you, now isn’t it?”

“You owe me nothing.”

“Untrue on every level. Bottom line,” he adds, “Blake’s tracking the Dungeon’s communications and so far, we believe this is over.”

“How much money?” I ask, looking at Savage.

“A fuck-ton.”

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