Page 93 of The Finish Line

“Oh, I intend to,” he threatens, his voice a mix of lust and fury.

Blowing out a harsh breath, his eyes roll down my body before he stalks off with his arms full, stomping into the bedroom before kicking the door closed with his foot.

Tobias and I wave my parents off after I’ve assured my mother of texts and phone calls every day for the rest of my life. Her concern is warranted, but it’s my job now to protect her from whatever truths may come. It’s a part of being in on the secret.

Tobias gazes on long after the RV disappears from sight, and I study his profile as the sun starts to tint the morning sky.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Roman.” Stepping away from me dressed in running clothes—sweats, a thermal and T-shirt, and worn Nikes—he grips his foot behind him in a hamstring stretch. His massive build is becoming slimmer and more defined due to his vigorous runs, and I can’t help my thorough appraisal of his efforts.

“What about Roman?”

“Of what a fool he was, of what he missed.” Satisfied with his warm-up, he steps forward and cups my wings, my eyes falling to his full lips as he speaks. “Of how I wish you could have met my parents. But if they hadn’t died, I probably wouldn’t have you.” He leans in and releases a wary breath. “Of how I hate some of the ways you perceive me, and I’m going to change it.”

“That’s a lot to be thinking about at seven in the morning.” When his eyes drop, I instantly feel guilty, but I’m drained from the whirlwind of the last twenty-four hours. Posture defeated, he steps away, retrieving his earbuds from his pockets and slips them in before flipping through his phone, tapping to start a playlist as he speaks.

“Just how my mind works—” he lifts his eyes to mine—“I thought you wanted that.”

“I did, I do. I’m sorry.”

He grips the back of my neck and pulls me quickly to him, brushing my mouth with a kiss that leaves me aching. It’s then I recognize the opening notes of Archive’s “Again,” a song I know by heart, streaming through his earbuds. “See you after work.”

Within seconds, he’s jogging down the road in the direction my mother left, my heart lurching after him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tobias

Age Twenty-Eight

Vegas.

The devil’s playground.

As far as devils go, I brought all my favorites with me. And tonight, I plan to let them reign.

Our mark?

Elijah Rosenbaum, a thirty-six-year-old VP who belongs to a small but webbed network of ambitious thieves. He robs his own corporation for sport while he spends his free time terrorizing women. His newest victim, Amelia, sits at his side, a twenty-three-year-old former cocktail waitress who left her station at a Boston bar thinking he would be her Prince Charming. Right now, she definitely realizes she needs a white knight, but she’s going to have to settle for a few rogue birds.

It’s becoming more evident to her by the second that abandoning her life was a catastrophic mistake. Her eyes dart around in fear as she sits, a new captive across from us in ringside seats Elijah will no longer be able to afford after paying our bill.

Since round one, Dom and I have had eagle eyes on them both, scanning for any security he may have that we might have missed. But it’s become apparent Elijah has gotten away with his evil deeds for far too long to take cautious measures. At this point, he deems himself untouchable. And it’s clear that’s not just an assumption by his behavior as he revels in striking fear in the heart of his companion. Every time her eyes wander past the apparent six fucking inches he will allow, he checks her with a hands-on approach. Both times that he’s hurt her, she’s burst into pained tears, only to be threatened to keep quiet when she reacts to his methodic torture.

“Motherfucker,” Dom growls next to me. “If he hits her one more time, I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Easy,” I clip, glancing over at Dom to see his shoulders tense, his fingers flexing with his need to pounce.

We’ve been butting heads recently due to his temperament and use of more extreme measures. He’s a ruthless renegade and a lethal one at that. Over the last few years, he’s hardened his edges, his patience dwindling, his fuse becoming shorter. At twenty-two, he’s nearly caught up to me in height—his build slightly smaller—but when he strikes, he makes sure the pain is unforgettable. I see a lot of myself in him, but we differ a lot in opinion on tactics, which has made our last few jobs more difficult.

“I’ll make a deal with you, brother.”

“I’m listening.” His eyes are zeroed in on Amelia, who’s frantically searching for a way to escape her bad company.

“You keep it together until we can get him alone, and I’ll let you give him a thorough lesson in manners on how to treat a lady. It’ll be your show tonight.”

Technically, this job is Dom’s find anyway, a tip-off from one of Elijah’s victims who was confiding tearfully to a friend at the MIT library. Not only did she spill about her ill-treatment, but she spent minutes recounting Elijah’s reckless bragging about his corporate conquests and wealth—which perked Dom’s ears. And because of that exchange, this mark fell into our laps. After some thorough research, we knew Lady Luck was on our side, which is why Sean and I met Dom in Boston to spend a few days with him before we followed Elijah out to Vegas for the fight. It’s the perfect location, a remote city in the middle of the desert with no ties to Dom’s life in Boston. Elijah will have no idea who to seek revenge on, not that he’s capable.

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