Page 107 of Once A Crime Lord

“Do you know if he went anywhere else?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him glance at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know if he stopped anywhere else besides New York?”

“He mentioned something about Maine, I think. Why?”

Confirmation, even though she hadn’t needed any. Her heart felt as if it weighed ten pounds.

“Gavin’s checking on the leads from the warehouse, phone, and GPS on the vehicle you drove. He asked me to watch over you,” Angel said.

“I didn’t ask where Gavin is.”

“I know. I’m telling you.”

She fisted her hands in her lap.

“Heard you yell at him this morning.” When she said nothing, he added, “Saw Blade bring you out, drug you. Heard the state your mom’s in, don’t fucking blame you.”

The city loomed in the distance. She wanted to tell Angel to shut the fuck up but had a feeling he would ignore her order.

“Heard your dad swung the other way, and you killed him... and a bunch of others.”

She closed her eyes to stop herself from attacking him.

“You may not have grown up in our world, Lyla, but you’re handling yourself just fine.”

“Shut up,” she whispered.

“You did what you had to. Life sucks, and you’re still here, protecting what’s yours. There’s no shame in that.”

Silence descended, and she thanked her lucky stars. She focused on keeping her mind blank as Angel navigated through the city to the hospital. He parked the Bugatti. Before he could turn off the car, Blade slid into the slot beside them. She started toward the hospital and was brought to a halt by Angel who snatched her hand and laced their fingers together.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped and tried to pull away.

“You’re shaking.”

She hadn’t noticed until he pointed it out. “That doesn’t mean you need to hold my hand.”

“Doesn’t hurt.” He eyed her disgruntled face and grinned. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not used to strange men holding my hand.”

“We’re family.”

“How, exactly?”

“Gavin and I are first cousins.”

Oh, shit. That was a little too close for comfort. “I don’t need you to hold my hand. I’m fine.”

He squeezed. “You’re not fine. Let me take care of you.”

“Why do you care?” She didn’t expect a bloodthirsty Roman to be the handholding type.

“When something happens to one of us, it happens to all of us.”

---