Page 27 of Hidden While In Sight

“Maybe last night really was a dream,” he said, taking another step back, careful to make sure it was away from the pool. “If it was, I’d crave a hundred just like it.”

Her head finally lifted.

“Don’t doubt that. Even if I am here because of your husband.”

Her shock faded into that steady blankness.

“I’ll kill him for you.”

And just like that, the blankness melted. Her mouth dropped open, half of it more than the other half, and color flooded her cheeks. “No!”

Diego’s stomach tightened as the chill from the water returned. “No?”

She shook her head and pressed her fingers against her eyes. “Please, no. I don’t want that.”

“I’ve seen what he does to you, Hannah.” He wanted to stomp over and shake some sense into her. His fury rose, already too close to the surface from his near drowning.

“Please,” Hannah repeated, begging for her asshole of a husband’s life.

The anger inside gnashed its teeth, seeing the perfect outlet to take it out on huddled in front of him. He whirled away from her instead, running, not willing to let his own issues hurt the woman who had been hurt too much already.

Chapter 14

Diego ignored the vibrations of his phone against the desk. He ignored the monitors as well. All he could do was lift his body weight, again and again, until his arms ached as he hung from the pull-up bar.

To top off his evening, Ashford’s voice continued to fill the room. At least Ashford sounded as aggravated as he did. The asshole’s voice grated in his ear as he confessed to being a dirty motherfucker even while not confessing.

His words were never quite concrete enough. He was a careful prick. He never dropped a name or an activity or anything quite so clear as that.

Diego had made sure he’d been visible when the fucker pulled into his driveway, just to rattle him. Ashford had held off for longer than he’d expected. It was only after the children had been put to bed that Diego was rewarded with a seething phone call. It gave him no satisfaction.

He didn’t need Hannah’s permission to kill her husband. He’d told himself this over and over throughout the day, but it still rang false.

Diego would just become another person forcing his decisions onto her.

He dropped from the bar, a satisfying ache in his biceps, though he wasn’t likely to ever have the guns to show for it. He was scrawnier than his Zeta brothers, always had been. Early malnutrition, a high metabolism, and an often sedentary life all factored into that. His shorter height meant his body aligned better to Hannah’s, so he couldn’t hate it. Besides, scrappiness and an ability to read people factored more into a fight than thick muscles.

He silenced his phone’s alarm, sending off his regular text to Naz.

His eyes scanned the monitors as he waited. Ashford was still going off on whoever he had called while alone in his office.

Hannah stood on the other side of the office door. She wore a delicate nightie similar to the one Diego had gotten to touch, but he didn’t let that distract him.

He frowned as he studied her. She was listening to Ashford, he realized, and she didn’t look surprised at all.

How much did Hannah know about her husband? Specifically, how much did she know about his extracurricular activities that didn’t include badly fucking the nanny?

The arrival of Naz’s picture dragged Diego’s gaze from the screen. The lighting in the photo was dim, but Naz’s face was clear enough. So was a delicate foot with a high arch behind him.

‘Is that a woman’s foot?’ Diego texted back.

The photo disappeared, deleted.

A new one appeared without the foot.

Diego let out a huffing laugh. Naz never talked about women. Naz never talked. Maybe some women liked that.

Hannah was often silent. Diego wondered if that came naturally to her, or if it was a learned behavior. His gaze returned to studying her on the screen.

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