Catch picked me up and stood to his feet. I wrapped my legs around his waist.

“Only me and you matter. Forget about other men,” I said.

“Remember I’ll have another war on my hands with the fucking assholes in Baltimore.”

My fingers stroked his hair as we moved up the staircase. “Ok, Callum.” There was nothing I could say to stop his upcoming Chicago killing spree.

His stormy eyes widened. “Seriously.”

“Yes. There’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

I rested my head on his shoulder and inhaled his neck. He smelled so addictive. Two could play this game. I’d go to a Chicago nightclub one weekend while he was in town. I’d have a good time. The women would be all over my husband. I was sure of it. Then I’d be moved to kill too.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

WE HAVE COMPANY

CATCH

My wife was home in our bed while I was at work. For once, everything felt right in the world.

Last night, after we got back from Chicago, I bathed her. Washing away the sins of the city that had claimed so much of her. She’d eventually return with her friends to handle business, but not anytime soon. For now, she was staying here where she belonged with her husband.

My fingers traced the bruises on her chest. She had taken two bullets during the girls’ war with Tyra. Thank God she’d worn a bulletproof vest. Another bullet had grazed her leg, but it was just a flesh wound—still painful but not life-threatening.

She leaned her head against the cool porcelain tub, her hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her injured leg rested on the ledge to keep the wound dry.

“Catch, are you going to put me to sleep?” she asked, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

“Yes, Mrs. Rizzo,” I replied softly.

Suddenly, her face twisted in pain. Her hands flew to her chest as she wheezed.

My heart leapt, and I sat up straight, water sloshing around us. “Are you okay?”

She closed her eyes, her breath shallow but steady. “Yes, it’s just the pain from my injuries.”

“I want to kill everyone in that warehouse who hurt you,” I growled, the rage crept up the back of my neck.

Bianca stirred, trying to sit up.

“No, bombshell, stay where you are. I'm almost done cleaning you up."

She exhaled, letting her body sink back into the warm water.

Maybe tomorrow night would be a better time to give her what she wanted. For now, she needed rest.

After bathing her, I rinsed the soap from her skin with the handheld shower wand, the warm water cascading over her.

Stepping out of the tub, I grabbed a plush black towel and dried myself off, catching her unwavering gaze on me. Her eyes didn’t leave my hard dick as I wrapped the towel securely around my waist.

I turned back to her, lifting Bianca gently from the tub and wrapping another towel around her damp body before cradling her in my arms.

She looped her arms around my neck, her voice soft but firm. “Callum, I can walk.”

“You’re not walking on that leg,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell anyone you were hurt.”

“The adrenaline was working overtime. I saw the look on Tori’s face and forgot that I’d been shot.” Her eyes clenched shut as she relived the horror of that day.