Page 244 of Hate Mates

But now, those words make sense.

It’s the only thing thatdoes,the only possible thing thatmightexplain all this and how crazy Will is acting.

Yet, it doesn’t.

Will isn’t a cop. He’s a fisherman and a bartender. He spends his time on the water or behind the bar in this old dive.

He can’tpossiblybe doing what Mom did.

I scan his face, searching for the truth, for an explanation. “Are you…undercover?”

Chapter Two

WILL

Idon’t know whether to be relieved she knows so I can stop lying to her or furious that she’s now been sucked into the very thing I’ve been trying to protect her from all this time.

Right now, it’s definitelyboth.

The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt Emilia, but that’s exactly what I’ve done—in order toprotecther.

“I tried to tell you before…”

Her brows furrow over confused, darkening eyes. “What do you mean? You never?—”

I step closer, so badly wanting to touch her, but I don’tdarewhile she’s trembling and I don’t know if it’s because she’s afraid orpissed—at me. “Idid.”

She just didn’t want to hear it.

Wouldn’t let me get a fucking word out.

That anger I’ve tried so hard not to direct at her starts to seep into my blood again. She so easily believed the worst about me. And tonight, even if it was only for a few minutes, she thought I could actually be involved with Rocky and his smuggling operation.

“That day when you saw me with Cassie…”

Emilia’s eyes flare with a red-hot fury that almost instantly morphs into something far worse—hurt and betrayal. “You mean when I walked into the bar and found you with your tongue down that blonde’s throat?”

Shit.

The pain in her voice, the utter despair in the way she says the words, breaks me almost as much as seeing her walk through that door to witness it in the first place.

“It wasn’t what it looked like. If you would have just let me explain?—”

“Explainwhat? Why youcheatedon me?”

She pushes off the keg, trying to get past me, but I know if she walks away now, I won’teverhave a chance to get her back again.

My chest brushes hers, and I can’t stop myself anymore.

I capture her face between my palms, so soft and smooth under my rough, calloused fingertips and palms born from years of working on the boat and behind the bar here. “She’s an FBI agent, Em. She approached me almost two years ago and told me they believed Rocky and his crew were running heroin, meth, coke, you fucking name it, through the northern lake ports.”

Emilia’s eyes widen. “Because Valentina and Cutter won’t let them bring drugs into the docks through Chicago…”

“Exactly.” I brush my thumb across her tanned cheek, now pinkened with her anger. “She asked for my help. She knew I had a stronger chance of getting them to trust me than anyone else and asked me to help set them up.”

“Because of who our fathers are…”

I nod slowly, waiting for her to connect the rest of the dots. “Who better to approach than the son of Warwick Pike? You were never supposed to get involved. You were never supposed to find out. It was all supposed to be done behind closed doors,and you showed up early that day when we were waiting for Rocky and his crew to get here. You saw me with her?—”

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