Page 66 of Murder & Mayhem

A sluggish smile crosses her face, and she pulls me into her, kissing me with the same slow, lazy, languid speed like we have all the time in the world.

“Where’s Oliver?” she asks when she pulls back.

“Here,” the man himself says from the doorway as both Red and I turn our heads to look at him. He’s only got eyes for her, and the shadows that have been hanging around him for the last two days lift as he finds her safe and sound in my arms.

My fingers are still buried deep inside her, her release dripping down my hand, but she grins brightly at him, not giving a shit. She pushes on my chest, and I pull out of her, lowering her to the ground. The second her feet hit the floor, she rushes toward him, uncaring of her unbuttoned jeans and apparent disheveled state. She launches herself into his arms, and he holds her tight, burying his face in her hair. He mumbles something I can’t make out before kissing her as passionately as I just did.

I give them a moment, wiping my hand on my jeans and firing off a text to Marcus, telling him to handle everything for the day. I don’t want to be disturbed or interrupted with nonsense. Red might be back, but I highly doubt everything she managed to convey on the phone has magically fixed itself.

“What the hell happened?” Oliver asks when they finally pull apart. “How are you here?”

Red sighs, and I notice the dark circles under her eyes that weren’t there the last time I saw her. Reaching out, I draw her into me and pull her down on my lap as I sit in what is her usual seat in front of my desk. She leans into me, turning on my knee to face Oliver as he sits beside us. She quickly re-hashes what she told us on the phone the other day, about that fucking ambush. My fingers dig into her thigh, and her hand comes to rest over mine, drawing circles along the back of my hand.

“Were you able to escape?” I ask after she informs us that she’s been locked up at Dante’s house for the last two days.

She grimaces. “Not exactly.” I don’t like the look on her face or how she doesn’t meet either mine or Oliver’s gazes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I growl.

“Enzo drove me into the city.”

“Who the fuck is Enzo?” I bark at the same time as Oliver questions, “Into the city?”

She runs her hand down her face, already looking weary, but I get the impression she’s nowhere near done. “This is so much more complicated than I could have imagined,” she groans.

“So, explain it to us.” I’m getting impatient, and she clearly doesn’t care for my tone based on the withering glare she gives me.

“I’m trying, but I don’t have long, so just be quiet and let me get through it all.”

“Don’t have long?” I immediately question, ignoring the rest of what she said. “You’re going back?” I’m not even sure why I bother to phrase it like she has a choice. She doesn’t. There’s no fucking way I’m letting her go back to him. To them.

Her lips thin, and she huffs out a breath, sending a silent plea to Oliver. “We won’t interrupt you again,” he promises, lifting his gaze to mine. Now it’s my turn to huff out a frustrated breath, but I don’t argue—for now.

She explains who this Enzo guy is, and I immediately don’t like him. Someone else who knows her secret? I don’t fucking think so. Nope. He can’t be trusted, and he’s just found himself at the top of my kill list, alongside Dante.

However, when she informs us of Dante’s plan, I lose the thin thread of control I had over my anger. “Marry you?” I snarl, dumping her in Oliver’s lap as I jump to my feet and begin to pace back and forth across the office. “That motherfucker. There’s absolutely no fucking way. I’ll kill him.” I’m not entirely sure if my rant is all verbalized or just in my head, but I curse him out six ways to Sunday and picture killing him in a hundred different ways before the red mist lifts from my gaze, and I can finally focus on Red again. She’s frowning at me, with her arms crossed over her chest, looking ready to tear my head off. Fuck if the thought of that doesn’t get me hard.

“Are you done?” she snipes. “‘Cause I’d quite like to get back to the plan.”

“The plan where I kill all of them?”

She rolls her eyes. “The plan where every single Antonelli is gathered in one place, so all you have to do is blow them all to Kingdom Come.”

Now that gets my attention, and I pause in my pacing to stare at her, wrapping my head around what she’s saying. It takes a second, but the pieces finally all click together, and I scowl. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Cain,” she sighs, sounding exasperated. “It’s the perfect plan.”

“No,” I bark again.

In the next second, she’s on her feet, standing in front of me with her arms crossed and her eyes spitting fire. “Stop thinking of me as some innocent little girl who can’t look after herself, and start seeing this as the opportunity we—you—have been waiting for.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. You aren’t even listening to my plan.”

“Fine,” I huff, stomping over to the seat and dropping into it, throwing out my hands. “Let’s hear this amazing plan of yours.”

Oliver smacks me on the arm, and when I turn to face him, he glowers at me. He’s been quiet the whole time, or maybe I just didn’t hear him over my own tirade and the blood rushing in my ears.

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