Page 21 of His Angel

That dog’s her goddamn lifeline; I knew it from nights peering through her window, watching her cling to that mutt when the dark pressed too close. Two minutes with Luna’s drooling mess, and the weight lifts off her shoulders.

Her smile softens, unguarded, a flicker I’d kill to keep. Bringing that slobbering beast was a gamble—extra cargo, extra risk—but worth it to see her like this, happy, even if it’s fleeting. I’d haul a goddamn zoo across the ocean if it kept that light in her eyes.

She’s my bullet, yeah—lodged deep, tearing through—but she’s my heartbeat too, pulsing wildly under my skin. I’ll do anything to keep it pumping. Watch her from cliffs, shadows, anywhere she doesn’t see, counting her steps, her laughs, guarding her like a ghost she can’t shake. My love’s a blade, and I’ll carve the world bloody to hold her close.

“That’s exactly why you’ll lose her.”

“You’re impulsive, reckless, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.”

That fucker’s words haunt me.

“You’ll never be what she needs.”

Motherfucker. I shut my eyes and pinch my nose, willing his voice and smug face out of my head. Jesus, what if he was right? What if I can’t be the man she needs? What if my love is too…too fucking wrong for her? She’s gentle, I’m cruel. She’s light, I’m darkness. She’s air, while I’m the vacuum sucking the life out of it.

I can’t lose her.

I can’t lose her.

I can’t. Fucking. Lose her.

Ever.

Guards patrolling in the distance catch my eye, their rifles glinting, keeping this slice of nowhere locked tight. They have their orders to keep Everly safe at all costs. Every day, I remind them that if there ever comes a time when a choice needs to be made between my life and hers, they choose hers. Always.

No boats dot the horizon, no planes hum overhead. It’s just sea and jungle, a wall between us and the Paladinos’ dogs. The fallout’s a noose tightening, and Everly’s the knot they want to pull.

She knows it now. Gets how this world works, how they’d rather break me than bury me. But I’ll carve my way through hell before I let that happen.

I saunter over to the outside bar, the wood creaking under my feet, and pour myself a bourbon. Neat, dark, and minus that minty bullshit Everly’s been sipping.

“Fucking mojito,” I mutter, smirking to myself as the amber burns my throat. One more of those, and she’ll be dancing with Luna, thinking she can take on the Paladinos with a lime wedge and a cute little straw. Girl’s got fire, but that drink’s turning her into a tropical lightweight. Luckily, I got her all the way out here, far away from trouble.

My grip tightens around the glass as I continue watching her with Luna. That locked door nags at me. My “office.” It’s more than maps and bourbon in there; it’s the war room, the plans, the satellite link to Alexius and the guys keeping the Paladinos guessing. I’ve got moves brewing. Bait, traps, a strike to cut their legs off. But she can’t know yet. Not until it’s done. I need her safe, not tangled in the blood I’m about to spill.

Luna barks, and Everly’s head tips back, hair catching the breeze. She’s a queen on that beach—my queen—and I’d slaughter a thousand Paladinos to keep her there, laughing with her damn dog. They think they can rip her away, gut me with her absence, but they don’t know me. I’ve got this island, my men, and a plan ticking like a bomb.

I set the glass down, hard, and head for the stairs. Halfway down, Talon Voss cuts across the deck, shadow stretching long in the sun.

He’s a beast. Six-four, built like a tank, scars crisscrossing his knuckles from breaking jaws for us. Not Maximo’s level, but the kind of bastard who’d snap a neck with a grin and call it Tuesday.

His dark shades catch the light, hiding eyes that’ve seen too much, black tactical gear screaming business—no beach casual crap.

“Boss,” he grunts, voice like gravel, stopping short as I hit the deck. “Got a minute?”

I glance at Everly, who’s still on the beach, Luna sniffing at a shell. I nod, jerking my chin toward the shaded corner by the pool. “Make it quick, Talon. She’s not out of my sight long.”

He falls in step, boots thudding on the weathered wood, and we stop under the umbrella, out of earshot.

“Perimeter’s tight,” he says, pulling a crumpled pack of smokes from his pocket, lighting one with a flick of his Zippo. “One of our boats fried a drone sniffing around last night. No tags, but it’s Paladino tech. Sleek, pricey, their style.”

I flex my jaw, heat creeping up my neck. “That’s way too fucking close, Talon.”

“Which is why I doubled the guards along the north end of the island.”

That eases me. A little. “Good. What else?”

Talon exhales smoke, gray curling into the breeze. “Supply boat’s on schedule. Drops tomorrow, south dock. Food, ammo, fuel. Clean crew, no leaks. Checked them myself. But word’s trickling in from the mainland. Paladino’s got bounties up. Big ones. They’re not just hunting, they’re buying eyes.”

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