Page 51 of The Secrets We Share

“Do you think they could stay there? Or is it better for us to all be together?” I finish quietly. I love my best friend, but being back in the apartment, even though I wasn’t here long before,feels like coming home. It’s something I don’t want to share, even with our closest friends.

“That’s all? You don’t want to share our space? Fine by me, sweetness. I don’t want to share anything when it comes to you. Your space, time, body—I want it all.”

I roll my eyes at him, but deep down, part of me loves hearing it. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling out his phone and typing up the text I read upside down before he sends it to James.

“Done. You only ever need to ask, sweetness. I’d give you anything that your twisted little mind could conjure.”

TWENTY-THREE

HARKIN

Call Me Devil - Friends in Tokyo

It never gets any easier leaving her dead asleep, warm, and tucked on her side in my big bed. But it’s the only time I can get any work done without her curious eyes on me. Not that I’m deliberately trying to hide this from her. I just need to be one thousand percent sure before I blow up her world again. Shit, I’m not sure she has anything left to chip away at with how this last year has been.

James sent over the confirmation text earlier, letting me know the information was ready and waiting. It sat at the forefront of my mind all day while we relaxed around the house for the first time in what felt like weeks of constantly being on the go and on edge.

Secluded in my office, with the door cracked to hear her footsteps, should they come, my shoulders relax the moment my fingers rest against the keys. This is it. This is the ace up our sleeve. The one thing we might be able to use to get Domenico off our backs for good.

The code opens the encrypted file, and photo after photo appears across my screens. The evidence is damning, and there’s no denying it anymore. Keira is the strongest woman I have ever met, but this here might just be the sword that severs her Achilles. That doesn’t stop my brain from harping on the truth. I must tell her. And it has to be done before we track down her grandfather and force a meeting to get to him before Domenico.

I let that knowledge guide me to the next thing on my list. Nikita dropped Keira’s grandfather’s possible locations in our laps. But the man has a lot of property under his and the family’s name. Narrowing it down is taking more time than I expected, but there are three places left to choose from as of last night. There’s a building in Midtown Manhattan, an apartment in Jersey, and a large estate outside the city. It’s comical how similar Domenico and this man seem on paper.

My gut reaction says he’d be in the city. Domenico wouldn’t waste time working so far out of his territory otherwise. The cameras I’ve been able to access haven’t given me a clear shot of the man in the twenty-year-old mug shot I’m working off. But it doesn’t mean he isn’t there, entering from somewhere out of range.

We don’t have time to send James’s contact out to all the addresses for surveillance. Domenico’s text could come in any day now with the meeting set. Our only option is to move in blind and half-cocked. What could go wrong?

“Fuck me,” I whisper into the quiet, drawing a hand down my face.

First thing tomorrow morning, I need to tell her. Give her the evidence we’ve gathered and see how my girl reacts. Maybe I’m not giving her enough credit. She could be fine. I know how well she compartmentalizes the shitty parts of our situation to keep pushing through to the other side. I let her keep building up those walls. But one day, when Domenico is no longer in ourhair, and my ex stops popping up out of the blue, I will pick them apart brick by brick until she’s free from the tomb she built for protection.

My fingers hover over the control andPkeys, my brain and body warring against each other to be open and honest instead of secretive to protect her. We made a promise, though. This is a secret we need to share. I have no right to keep it from her.

The hiss of the inkjet printer keeps my mind occupied until the last photo sits across my desk. Tucking the photos away into a file folder, I stand and stretch the kink out of my lower back. It’s well past one a.m., and my brain is finally quieting now that I have a plan. Tell Keira, make our way up to midtown Manhattan, drop in on an unsuspecting grandfather to cut her father off at the knees. You know, it's just like any other typical day.

Cinder perks up from my spot, ears moving like satellites at my approach. “Bed,” I command, and she desperately wants to ignore me, but knows better. At least, when I slide between the sheets, pressing into Keira’s back, warmth envelops me everywhere. The combination of a settled consciousness and the warm environment makes me fall asleep in minutes.

Hours later,I’m extricating myself from Keira’s limbs, wrapped around me like she’s worried I’ll leave her side while she sleeps. Thick gray clouds line the sky, dimming the world outside. Rivulets coat the living room windows, adding to the already darkening mood of the morning. An omen, no doubt.

My phone vibrates against the kitchen island, dragging me from loading the beans into the grinder.

We’ve got a situation.

I don’t bother texting back, hitting his contact before bringing it to my ear. The call rings once before I hear his gruff voice on the other line.

“Nikita’s dead,” James says unceremoniously.

I draw in a deep breath. This is the last thing we need to add to the mix. “When?”

“Last night. It looks like a sniper shot through her window.”

“Jesus Christ. How’d you hear?”

“I’ve been watching her since she popped up at the last safe house. Her place is swarming with cops and lots of suits.”

“FBI?”

“And then some. She was deep in their pockets. Working her way out of some trouble she found herself in.”

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