Page 46 of The Shadow

I turn around to look at him. “Yeah?”

“We both know that this world we’re in doesn’t operate like everyone else. You know we trust you to handle things, Harvey, but whatever you decide, just make sure you see it through because a target on your back from a man like that only means one thing.”

“Got it.”

I can’t get home to her fast enough.

Her hands are in my hair, her thighs wrapped around my waist as our tongues dance against each other’s.

“More,” she pants, clawing at the hem of my shirt.

“Wait.” I still her hands, her lips coming forward slightly to kiss me once more before I untangle myself from her legs and step back from the counter where I sat her. “We need to talk.”

“Talk?” She repeats the word, sliding off the counter to her feet. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“We have to talk about what your plan is because I’m already hanging by a thread here.” Her face twists in confusion. “There’s too much at risk for me to go in blind to things; you need to let me in so I can help.”

“I can’t.” She shakes her head. “Harvey, it’s revenge, it won’t be legal. It could ruin your reputation, your company.”

“I know, baby, but I promise you”—I step toward her and hold her face in my hands—“it won’t. We make a good team and there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to let you do this on your own.” I want her to understand that it wouldn’t matter if I had to sell my soul to Satan if it meant keeping her alive.

“Let me?” She gives me a snarky grin.

“Mm-hmm.” I run my hands over her delicate curves. “You can run the op, baby, but I’m gonna remain in charge.”

“And what gives you the right to be in charge?” She runs her hand down between us, her fingers brushing firmly against my cock that stiffens beneath her touch. “Just because you have a big dick?”

Her brashness makes me laugh, sending a red glow over her cheeks. We stare at each other, smiling like idiots for several seconds.

“Seriously though, Aspen, you were open and vulnerable with me last night and I need to do the same with you. You deserve to know—” My eyes shift away from hers because I know that what I’m about to tell her could be the end of it for us.

“To know what?” She cups my face now, turning my gaze back to hers. Her eyes search mine frantically and I hope and pray that this isn’t the last time I see her look at me this way.

Because once you confess to someone that you’re a murderer, it’s impossible to take it back.

“I killed my father,” I say flatly. “In cold blood.”

Her hands drop from my face as she takes a step back and then another, an expression on her face like she’s trying to decide if she really heard me correctly.

“You, you—I’m sorry, you killed your father?”

“Murdered him actually.” Maybe it’s silly to think she has a leg to stand on to judge me when her father is also dead, partially at her hands, but it’s not the same. She had no idea that Jaxson would continue their crimes to include making sure her father met an early end. Even if she can’t know for sure that it was arranged, the burden of suggestion is enough to weigh heavily on her.

“What’d he do?” she says finally. “To deserve it.”

There’s no need for me to beg her to hear me out or try to understand, because she already does. She looks up at me with the same loving, nonjudgmental gaze she had only seconds ago.

“He killed my mom.”

“Oh my God.” Her hands cover her mouth in a flash, her eyes already brimming with tears. “What?” She grabs me around the waist, her arms hugging me tightly as she presses her face against my chest. “I’m so sorry.”

I close my eyes, my own tears threatening to fall as I wrap my arms around Aspen and hold her. This is something I’ve never experienced. The yet unspoken love that’s building between us. Like the entire world could come crumbling down around us and it wouldn’t shake us. Finally, I move us over to the couch where I sit with her in my arms, her back against my chest as I tell her about my mom.

“My parents were a normal couple I guess, although I know that probably sounds completely contradictory after what I just said. But they were. Penny and Derek.” My mind immediately tries to bring up memories from those years, the happy, Leave it to Beaver years as my aunt Terry would later call them.

“What changed?”

“Honestly, just life.” I shake my head, thinking about how fucking normal my parents’ problems were. “The arguments I do remember them having were just like any other couple’s arguments as far as I could tell. My mom would be frustrated that my dad left tools around or half-finished projects and Dad would get mad at Mom for leaving too many lights on in the house and forgetting to fill the car up with gas.”

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