Page 210 of The Forbidden Note

“Thank you, guys.” I gesture to the boxes. “I’ll have to ask you to keep this here. I don’t think they’ll be safe anywhere else.”

“Of course,” Dutch says.

“I know this is where your agreement ends and mine starts.” I notice Zane frowning when I say that, but what does he expect? That The Kings will be at my beck and call just because he wants to screw me one more time to get it out of his system? I’m not a high school student. I’m an adult. I’m not that naive. “Is there anything you can give me on Jarod Cross? Any specific evidence?” I arch an eyebrow. “Murder, theft, drugs…”

Dutch flinches. “If you’re talking about suspicions, it’s yes to all the above. There’s nothing he hasn’t done.”

“I can’t convince my mom on theories.”

“You’ll have to try,” Dutch grunts.

I sigh heavily. They’re not making my job easy, but I remind myself that it wasn’t easy for them either.

“Okay.” I lift my phone. “I took pictures of all the evidence against Harris. You guys can keep the originals.”

Sol leans against the wall, watching me with this dark, twisted gaze. “What are you going to do with it?”

He’s smiling, but it’s not a very nice smile. His brown eyes gleam with a kind of maniacal viciousness.

I consider him for a long moment. Sol was the most insistent about attacking Hall, an observation I brushed off that night because he was—technically—bleeding and bruised from being attacked first.

But the way he’s gleefully watching me, waiting for me to destroy someone’s life, I get the feeling his sentiments about revenge against Hall weren’t a reaction to circumstances. They were an outlet for the rage already simmering under his veins.

“These bank statements aren’t the evidence I want, so it’ll have to be a bargaining chip.”

“You could just send Harris off the chess board now,” Finn points out. “It’s enough ammunition.”

“Harris is a pawn. I want the real culprits and he knows who they are.” I slip my phone into my pocket and nod. “Thank you, guys for your help. I’ll take it from here.”

Zane follows me to the door, frowning. Hard. “Harris is scrambling to cover his tracks. Desperate people are the most dangerous and unpredictable. You shouldn’t do anything alone. Tell me what your next move is before you make it.”

“I can handle myself.” I reach for the door.

He closes it tightly. “You can, but you don’t have to, tiger.” Zane steps in closer, towering over me. I sometimes forget how ridiculously tall he is. Even so, I’m not intimidated by him.

“This is my fight. My war. I already dragged you and your brothers in too deep. It’s not your responsibility to clean up my mess.”

“What if I want to?” he whispers.

My throat gets tight and I glance away. “And what if I don’t want you to? Which one of us will win?”

His fingers close around my chin and he turns my face so I’m looking at him. “That’s easy. Me.”

I frown.

He smirks at me, cocksure and arrogant. “I always get what I want, tiger.” His fingers cup the back of my neck and he pulls me in, his lips a breath away from my face. “You’re not going to be an exception.”

It’s disgusting how tightly my body clenches, in need of his touch.

I don’t want to be this way.

I don’t want to burn for him the way I do.

Whatever darkness is inside me gravitates to him.

Zane drops his hand without kissing me and I have to throw my hand against the wall to keep from grabbing him by the shirt. I don’t trust my own body to stay away from him. It’s like he’s taken control of my hands, my feet, my heart.

Lifting my gaze to his disturbingly blue eyes, as alluring as the monsters that sang sailors to their deaths, I realize that if I want to win any other fights in my life, I have to get him out of my system.

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