Page 96 of Executing Malice
“Leila?”
His hold closes around me. It twines tight across my middle, and I’m lifted bridal style up into his lap.
I don’t give a shit who’s watching.
I don’t care what people might say.
I hold him with a ferocity that is probably cutting circulation, but he’s not stopping me, and I’m a bit woozy with relief.
“Baby?” he murmurs into the curve of my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
It does tickle my brain to tell him about Reed and the asshole pissing me off. I know he’d offer his brand of justice, which I would approve of, but it would make things harder with Reed. He’s already upset with me. Plus, I don’t want Reed to arrest Dante for murder. I feel that might put a dent in their relationship and — since they’re both important to me — I want them to get along. It’s a rational decision to let it go and hope that Reed will talk sense into the guy and get him to leave me alone.
“I thought they got you,” I breathe into his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut tight.
“Who got me?” Dante asks.
I think about what he’d called Dolores and company that first day and think how accurate the description is.
“The garden gnomes.”
His big hands move along my back, through my hair. It’s such a soothing, familiar gesture, I’m helpless to stop myself from sinking fully into him.
“Do I need to take care this?” he asks quietly into my temple.
I take a deep breath and reluctantly shake my head. “It won’t change anything.” I lift my face and peer back into his searching eyes. “It’s like a tree root. It expands so far and deep, you’d never get it all.”
He’s staring into my face with a mixture of confusion and concern, and I realize, he has no idea what I’m talking about. Because of course he doesn’t. This isn’t normal behavior. Things like this are only ever written about in fiction, but living in Jefferson long enough, you see it first hand.
Oh, it’s not often or blatant. We don’t have lynchings in the streets. But that only makes it more horrifying. Sinister. It’s the knowledge that they’ll come in the night, under the cloak of darkness and destroy an entire family.
I don’t think they murder anyone, but the ‘guilty’ party always just disappears.
I don’t want Dante on their list.
“You need to stop parking here. In fact...” I straighten in his lap, caught up in my rapid brain fire. “You should stay at the house.”
“Fuck, no.” His expression darkens into one of stubborn defiance. “I’m not running from a pack of vultures.”
I don’t know how to explain to him that those vultures have more power than the CIA and are more dangerous than any gang. Being old and seemingly harmless fools a lot of people.
“They’ll hurt you,” I murmur softly. “You’re not one of them and they don’t like that.”
Dante snorts. “They have no idea who they’re dealing with, sweetheart.” His fingers close under my jaw, firm but gentle, holding my face to his. “Where’s my girl who set the neighbor’s shed on fire to make a point?”
I blink, horrified. “I set someone’s shed on fire?”
I have to fight to keep my voice low when it bursts out of me.
My avenging angel smirks, dark and predatory. His eyes pull me into their abyss, daring me to blink.
“You think I’m the only psychopath in this relationship?” He chuckles and kisses me slow and deep. “You just don’t remember what a little demon you are.” He kisses me harder, demanding everything until I can’t breathe, only to suck my bottom lip until I moan. “We don’t run, baby. We burn shit to the fucking ground.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
LEILA
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