Page 62 of Text Me, Take Me

Saying my name in that purposeful tone is enough to let me know she deserves the truth. “I was thinking about last night. Your first time. I was wondering if I should’ve been gentler with you.”

A wicked smile replaces her unsure expression. “Do you think you could have? You seemed out of control to me… Anyway, that has nothing to do with this. You don’t have to give me special treatment because some freak had weirdo ideas about me.”

I sit beside her, take her hand, saying nothing. Together, we sit in the silence for a time before she goes on.

“He never did anything to me, except he would make me sit on his knee and tell me about our apparent future together. He didn’t cross any lines apart from that one. Nothing like you’re probably thinking.”

I wait, then she chuckles, nudging me. “You can talk now.”

“It’s enough,” I tell her. “It’s fucking evil.”

“I’m telling you because I need you to see. I know I can twist him. He’s probably told the club he wants me back so I can mule more drugs for him, but that’s an excuse. He wants me because he thinks he owns me, that I belong to him. It’s always been like that. He’s warped in the head.”

“My entire purpose is to keep you safe.”

“To keep me safe, you need to let me take a risk. If I don’t draw him out, he’ll keep attacking your businesses. He’ll leak that video of me. Worse, now that you’ve freedhis women, as he calls them, he’ll go out and find more. You need to help me do this.”

“I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Unless we end this, we’ll never know if we can have a real relationship,” she counters. “We need to be together–freely, without this… this mess hanging over our heads.”

There’s a part of me, a roaring beast who wants to drag her back to the garage and into the underground panic room, close the door, keep her there, make it so she doesn’t have to face the evil of the world.

“I can see it,” I whisper. “That fucked-up man filling your head with poison, twisting you against your own best interests. If we do this, it won’t be with the cops. It will be with the Family. He’ll die, Keepsake. I’ll make sure of it myself. Understand?”

She looks at me coldly. “Do you think I have a problem with that?”

I brush the hair from her face, lean in, and tenderly kiss her on the cheek. She turns her face and pushes her lips passionatelyagainst mine. She bites my lip, then grabs my arms and climbs into my lap.

“Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass now, Dom. Not because of this. That’s not fair.”

I wrap my arms firmly around her, standing with her in my embrace, driving my manhood against her. Meatball whines from the corner of the room.

“I should feed him,” she says. “Then–I’m calling Mason. I’ll get that jerk’s defenses down. We’ll end this… together.”

“Together,” I repeat, thinking about how far we’ve come, how much we have to lose.

CHAPTER 22

EVIE

We sit on opposite sides of the kitchen island, Dom leaning against it, his thick arm like cords of rope as he tensely stares down at the ringing cellphone. He stares at the device as though it’s Mason, and he wants to smash it to pieces as badly as obliterating the man himself.

I didn’t plan on telling Dom any of this, but I knew he wouldn’t let me help otherwise. He needed to understand that I’ve got some sway over the Vultures.

Finally, Mason picks up. “Speak.”

“It’s…” I wish I could say I’m playacting the shaky hesitation, but I’m not. “It’s me.”

“Ah, Evie. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I fucked up.”

“Louder, please.”

“I fucked up,” I say, raising my voice. “I should’ve gone with you when I had the chance.”

“Is that so?” he asks, chuckling, seeming unconvinced.

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