Page 74 of Remy

“This is bad, isn’t it?” I whisper over the ache in my throat.

He shoves a hand through his hair.

“They’re going to kill me, aren’t they?” I wrap my arms around my middle, clinging tight.

“No.” Remy swings around to face me, his expression pinched with turmoil.

“You’re lying.” I force myself to stand tall. To be strong.

His eyes harden as he bridges the space between us in thunderous steps. “They’re not going to fucking touch you. You have my word.”

I don’t believe him.

I know what this is. The whole tell-her-what-she-needs-to-hear stitch.

Guilt already swims in his dark irises. Guilt I never would’ve thought capable of existing, but it’s definitely there.

“I need my phone back.” I hold out a hand. “I have to message my dad. If I go missing?—”

“You’re not going missing. I’ll protect you.”

A laugh bubbles past my lips.

He’s going to protect me? Him? The guy who’s been a revolving door of threats and intimidation all weekend?

I want to believe him though. God, how I want to sink into the deceptive support and make it my home.

I step back, distancing myself from the idiotic weakness.

“I will protect you.” He straightens his shoulders as if repelling my rejection. “This is a slight complication, that’s all.”

No, it’s not.

Otherwise he wouldn’t need to protect me. He wouldn’t be looking at me with that remorse-riddled pity.

I mistakenly thought I’d waded through the worst of this situation. That somehow, getting to work and being away from Remy would be the beginning of the end to all this.

“Believe me, Ollie.” He stands proud. “You expected me to trust in you after what went down with the cops. So trust me with this. Everything will be okay.”

“How?” I look at him like he’s a lifeline, my nightmare having become my only savior. “It’s clear your brother wants me to disappear.”

“Because you’re a liability. I’ve told you that from the start.” His dark eyes flash with sincerity as he runs a hand through his hair. “We just need to persuade them otherwise.”

16

REMY

“We have to get going.” I curse my idiotic need to console her. “It won’t work in our favor to keep Lorenzo waiting.”

“But I’m not ready. I’m barely even dressed, and Alexandra’s funeral is this morning. If I’m late?—”

“I think tardiness can be bumped down the list of concerns when a bullet through the brain is a possible alternative.”

It was meant as a joke. One I immediately regret.

Her eyes widen. Her tempting lips part.

Fuck.

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