Page 58 of Devil's Claim

My heart thudded in my chest.

His nostrils flared, his jaw clenching.

My nipples hardened against the tight shirt.

Everything about that moment was sweet torture, desire mixing with fear mixing with excitement. A caustic concoction.

“Will you come with me, Christine?”

I inhaled, trying to clear my thoughts.

My body ached for him and his cock was just as excited as the rest of me. He wanted me the same way. This was so wrong. Sinful.

As soon as he cupped my jaw, rubbing his thumb back and forth aimlessly, I almost lost it.

“Will you?” Now his voice was more demanding.

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll see. I can promise you this. I will keep both of you safe. On my honor I will.”

His honor.

Was there such a thing as honor among killers?

He hadn’t figured it out yet. I glanced toward my son’s room, the ache from before still there, still ever present. But I had no choices, nothing that could provide me with the kind of protection I knew Kruz could.

So I made a choice, the only one that made any sense whatsoever.

And one that I feared would haunt me forever.

“Yes, I’ll go with you.”

CHAPTER 15

Kruz

Damnation.

I was going straight to hell for everything I’d accomplished in my life. There was no question Satan had a special unit for men like me. Dying and suffering had never bothered me. At least until now.

Did I truly expect a happy ever after?

Oh, fuck, no. Not really anyway.

Although over the years of creating destruction and seeking retaliation, something had constantly nagged at the back of my mind. I’d never been able to put my finger on it until today.

I missed having a family.

Not in the traditional way. I wouldn’t be the doting husband and father eager to take his kids to football practice and encourage them to do better in school. I couldn’t be that kind of father. Asfar as a husband, up until now I hadn’t been certain if I could stand being with a single woman.

Christine had made me feel different about everything.

My own family had been a shitty one. Tossed out at sixteen, I’d lived on the street for months before meeting Jago. We’d been close ever since. As close as I could be with a man who’d scarred me during the middle of a heated argument claiming he was better than me.

That I worked for him and not the other way around.

We’d been tight ever sense.

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