Page 208 of Remy

“Calm down, brother.” Salvatore drawls from the far shadowed end of the dining table. “I apologize for interrupting, but I wasn’t sure how long I could control my gag reflex.”

My pulse thunders with rage as I keep my gun trained on him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Ollie’s fingers dig into my hips, her panicked breathing brushing my ears.

“Apparently, I’m catching you in the act of defiance, am I not?” He pushes to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the tile. “Lorenzo wants to see you.”

“Oh, God,” Ollie whispers behind me.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he drawls. “Lorenzo wants to see you, too.”

“Over my dead body,” I snarl.

My brother snickers. “I was joking. He doesn’t want her. Yet. So you can lower your weapon. There’s no need to be hostile.”

I glare. “You’re such a fucking dick, Salvo.”

“It’s in the genes.” He strides toward us, Ollie’s fingers clutching at my shirt. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

I tense as he passes, my gun following his every step until he’s on the other side of the front door.

“Should I panic?” she asks, the question redundant when her tone suggests she already is. She never should’ve stopped panicking. Neither of us should’ve, because this is exactly what I was worried about.

“I’ll handle it.” I turn to her.

“Should I come with you?”

Yes. I don’t want her out of my fucking sight. But I also don’t want her in the vicinity of Lorenzo and his guards. “It’s best if you stay here.”

Her eyes plead with me. It’s fucking torture.

“Do you still want this?” I cup her jaw, hating the fear that stares back at me.

She swallows. Nods. “Yes.”

I shouldn’t be relieved.

It’s selfish, and careless, and fucking asinine. It’s the opposite of what’s best for her. But I’m too far gone. Letting her go isn’t an option when she’s just as caught up in this madness as I am.

“I need you to take this.” I grab her wrist and place my gun in her palm.

“What?” Her eyes bug as she tugs her arm away. “No.”

“If you want me, Pyro, you also want this lifestyle. So you’ll take the fucking gun.” I grab her again, forcing the Walther back into her hand. “You need to be able to protect yourself.”

I wait for her to retreat. To change her mind and make the safer choice.

Instead, her delicate fingers wrap around the weapon, her gaze focused on it with trepidation. “What do I do with it?”

“The safety’s off. If anyone unfamiliar gets within five feet of you, pull the trigger. Ask questions later.”

She glances from me to the gun and back again. “Do you really think I’ll need it?”

“I’m not taking any chances, and neither should you.” I wrap my fingers around her neck and kiss her. Hard.

She clings to my shirt with her free hand, tugging, yanking.

“I’ve gotta go.” I pull back.

---