Page 126 of SINS & Riley
“We need to talk—” he starts, urgency in his words.
Shit. If I thought that little bonfire was gonna slow down the Keenan’s, I guess I was wrong. But I can’t talk to Dominic yet. Not without a plan.
“Not now.” The words cut from my throat mindlessly.
“You don’t understand?—”
No, he’s the one who doesn’t understand.
This world I’ve built is about to go up in smoke, disintegrate before my eyes. I need him and his family gone before they’re caught in the blast radius.
“Wait,” Dominic says, clamping a strong hand around my arm, which stops me cold. He’s fifty pounds heavier and could probably bench-press my car just to kill time.
Even with a 104-degree fever and the flu, the man curls dumbbells.
There’s no way I win this contest—not if it comes down to brute strength. So I rip my gun from its holster and level it at his head.
“Clear enough for you? I said not now.”
He raises both hands in surrender as I shoulder past him, tight and ready to crack.
And that’s when I see her.
Riley.
I blink hard, praying it’s just some residual chemical haze from the dumpster fire I just left—some hallucinatory side effect that’s conjured her into existence.
But no. She’s real.
Long, dark hair spilling over her shoulders.
Full, plush lips that could tempt a priest.
Curves begging to be mapped with my hands. And my tongue.
My grip on the gun tightens so hard, I almost take off my own toe.
She lifts a nervous hand, casual, like we’re neighbors bumping into each other at the goddamn mailbox. “Hi.”
That single word detonates the silence.
“Hi?”
Deranged, I snap a glance at Dominic, then back to her. “Hi?” I repeat, voice unhinged, my what-the-fuck meter shooting off the charts.
My chest caves—rage, fear, disbelief all clawing for dominance, raw and exposed. Of all the people I was prepared to face today, she’s not the one.
Can my life get fucked up anymore? Goddamnit, she and the baby should be a million miles away.
I don't even address her. I look right at Dominic. And all I can choke out is, “She needs to leave. Now.”
39
ZVER
I storm off, boots hammering against the marble.
Dominic’s hot on my heels. Always on my heels. “You need to hear her out?—”
