Page 188 of Golden Atonement

“So do I. Preferably with my husband, not the moody version standing before me. Tell me.”

Shutting off the shower, Max reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He looked me dead in the eyes and said, “I called Ghost and told him to find Thena Hartley.”

“Why?” I whispered, shaking my head. “You promised me.”

“I know, but I don’t have a choice. I can still keep my promise to you, and she can still live her life free. I just need to find her first.”

“No, you need to leave her alone.”

“I CAN’T!” he shouted, causing me to jump. “You weren’t there, Remi. That fucker ordered me. ME!”

“Who? Montana?”

“No,” Max groaned, walking past me back into the bedroom. “That fucker Silas Sharp. He fucking works for Crispin Sinclair. We had just gotten new information about where the kids were being held. When we arrived, that fucker was already there. I still can’t figure out how he found them so fast? Anyway, he told me that Sinclair wanted another meeting. I told the bastard no. Well, the asshole didn’t take kindly to that and threatened me.”

“I still don’t understand how that connects to Thena.”

Sitting on the bed, he hung his head and said, “Crispin Sinclair is looking for her. He wanted me to find her and deliver her back to him before the Soulless Sinners found her.”

“When was this?”

“Back in New York. Remember that dinner,” he said, looking at me while I nodded. “Remi, he knew about Walter. I never told a living fucking soul about my time in the cages. Yet, he fucking knew. How did he fucking know?”

When I stayed silent, he continued, “Anyway, Sinclair told me he killed Walter for me. Then asked if I would find Thena. Said she belonged to him and he wanted her home. He gave me twenty-four hours to decide. I never gave him my answer. Now, he wants another meeting.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Max groaned, raking his hands through his wet hair. “But I know that woman, whoever she is to him, is better off with our protection than being out there alone. I know I’m going back on my promise, baby, but I can’t let that man get his hands on her. My head fucking hurts. I can’t think anymore, but I know I don’t trust Sinclair or Silas Sharp. In fact, I will tattoo best buds on my chest with Montana’s name under it before I ever trust Crispin Sinclair.”

I chuckled, sitting next to him. “Well, don’t do anything drastic.”

He smirked, laying his head on my shoulder. “They’re pulling me back in, baby. I don’t know how to stop them.”

“You don’t. We do it together, Max.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Reaper

It was a miracle.

Sitting at my kitchen table in my house, it was silent.

I could finally catch my breath and think.

No kids, no brothers, no wives, just plain, beautiful silence. Of course, if my math was correct, I had about three minutes left of pure bliss before all hell broke loose.

Drinking my coffee, I watched the minutes tick by, counting down the seconds before life’s interruptions would begin. I could already hear the light shuffle of feet above me as low moans and groans of unwilling participants got up, reluctantly willing to start another day when someone flung open my back door and growled.

Banging my head on the table, I moaned, “I still had three minutes, asshole.”

“Get over it,” Bullseye sneered, stomping over to the table, dragging a chair across the floor before plopping his annoying ass in it, glaring at me. “When is my wife coming home?”

Sighing, I looked at the man who shared my blood and wondered if Pops would like a companion in hell because I was seriously considering sending Dylan to visit the man.

“Two weeks. You knew this before shit kicked off, and you agreed. Why are you bitchin’ now?”

Like I knew he would, Dylan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and said absolutely nothing.

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