Page 17 of Marked

Chapter 11

Cain

I feel sick to my stomach. Lying is such a motherfucking pain in the ass. There’s a reason why I try to avoid it at all cost. It’s one thing to keep a secret in front of someone else. Concealing the ugly truth by keeping your mouth shut is easy.

But lying straight into someone else’s face, that’s a different story. Especially if that someone is a person who you value. When it comes to Riley, I have trouble defining what that value is, but I know for sure that I feel something for her. Possessiveness, definitely. That emotion always trails along with any of my play partners because I don’t like to share.

But with her…

It couldn’t really be more than that with Riley, could it? I only feel this protective of her because I’m tormented by the stench of guilt our relationship reeks of. It’s logical. It has nothing to do with the way I admire her cunning strength, or with the way she manages to play with my head, or with those stunning eyes and the way she stared up at me in the midst of mind-numbing delight, or with that sexy little body of hers and the way it curls around mine in perfect union when I pin her down beneath me.

No. None of that matters. It’s guilt, that’s all. Simple as that.

She doesn’t say a word after I confirm the deal she thinks we have. And I swallow the horrible implications of my lie, pushing them to the far back of my mind as I bring Riley upstairs. She’s walking next to me, her hands demurely folded in front of her body while her curious eyes flit left and right. I didn’t handcuff her, following her request and insistence that I could trust her. I don’t know about that, but I know that I’ll have to start somewhere if I want to be able to rely on her when the day comes and I send her out to meet Charlie.

Kyle and Jack are waiting in my office when we step inside it, and Riley instantly moves closer to me at the sight of them. There’s a greedy flicker in Jack’s eyes when he leers at her, and I have to hold myself back so as not to jump at him. Riley’s discomfort is palpable, and it only adds to my guilty conscience.

“How is the little miss?” Jack approaches us, his eyes still fixated on Riley.

I’m just about to put him in his place when Riley steps forward to fight on her own behalf.

“Better than you’ll be if you dare to come any closer,” she hisses at him with such fervor that it stops Jack in his tracks. He looks bewildered for a moment, as if no woman has ever spoken to him like that—which I find hard to believe—but he recovers within seconds, replacing confusion with condescending laughter.

“Feisty,” he mocks. “I like that.”

“Stop it,” I mutter in a way that could be directed at both of them, when in reality I’m mostly speaking to Jack. That son of a bitch should know better, and Riley impresses me more than she angers me. I give her a quick look from the side, which she doesn’t reciprocate. Her menacing gaze is locked on Jack, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed firmly together.

“We need to focus. Looks like the Covey is getting a tad antsy,” I announce as I march to my desk, followed closely by Riley. She’s glued to me like a shadow, and right now I don’t know whether it is out of fear or to demonstrate that she really has no intention of running away.

“Kyle told me his contact went silent,” I go on, looking first at Kyle before I regard Jack and then Riley. “Which could mean a lot of things, but based on what I know, I suggest we push our rendezvous to the upcoming weekend.”

Riley sucks in a sharp breath, her face losing all color when she turns to me with wide eyes.

“Wait, so the Scivolas pulled their guy?” Kyle asks, a frown growing between his brows. “You just talked to them, didn’t you? Did they tell you what’s going on?”

I’m just about to reply to him when I realize something.

My breath hikes and I can’t stop myself from turning to Riley, who is staring at me with an expression that makes my blood freeze.

Confusion. Understanding. Anger. Terror.

These sentiments alternate on her face, following each other in rapid succession. My concern was her ignorance to the fact that I’m working with a local Mafia family and my need to either explain or come up with a white lie, but what I see on her face now gives me reason to worry on an all-new level.

Because she seems to be connecting the dots in her head that I don’t want to see connected.

I’m imagining this, right? I must be.

After all, how could she know?

“So?”

Kyle’s probing interjection pulls me back into the room. I tear my gaze away from Riley and turn back to him.

“They’re getting impatient,” I retort briskly. “I don’t know if there’s any connection between your guy and what Ivo said to me, but there could be. Either way, it’s best to get this done as quickly as possible. Are you two up for it?”

Lifting my right hand, I point first at Kyle, then at Jack, who shrugs in response.

“Sure, we’re all set,” he says, nodding in Riley’s direction. “I think this one is the one you should worry about.”

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