Page 22 of Damaged & Deadly

“Yes,” I state confidently, my tone brokering no argument as I lift my chin. It may sound insane, but that’s the beauty of it. It’s so crazy that no one will ever suspect it. “We all have something to gain by working together. I will do anything to get my brother back.” I roam my eyes over each of them, ensuring they see how deadly serious I am, before focusing my gaze on Dante and Enzo. “You can finally get out from underneath Giovanni’s thumb.”

“And what do they get?” Enzo gestures toward Cain and Oliver, and I slide my gaze in their direction, noting Cain’s tight jaw and the tense set of his shoulders. He’s livid, but he’s shown considerable restraint, and for that, I’m grateful. His eyes bore into mine, the two of us sharing a charged moment. I’m not about to spill his story to the others. He has to make the decision for himself if he’s open to this alliance. I know it’s a hard pill for him to swallow, but he’s wanted his vengeance for so long. He’s been in this far longer than any of us, but I know in my gut that this is our best shot. The only chance we have of winning. The question is, how badly does he want it?

The muscle at the back of his jaw flexes and bulges, his eyes hard as his unrelenting gaze drills into me. I can practically see the calculated analysis going on inside his head. Cain’s a smart man, and despite his hot-headed temper, he’s capable of thinking a situation through. He wouldn’t be the leader of the Rejects if he couldn’t put his feelings aside and see the bigger picture, which is precisely what I’m asking him to do.

Still looking absolutely furious, he finally spits out, “I get vengeance for my sister.”

Chapter 9

Distrust, hostility, and contempt hang thick in the air, and very little else is said during the meeting. Which is fine. It’s not like I expected each of them to get over their issues and start singing Kumbaya. Today was about me laying out all of my cards on the table. Now it’s up to each of them to decide if they are in, and if they’re not… well, fuck, I really hope they’re in.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell Dante and Enzo as they head toward the door. They both stop in their tracks. Dante’s jaw ticks and Enzo’s stormy eyes grow even more turbulent.

“Alright,wife,” Dante growls, riling up the two angry gangsters behind me. He smirks before stomping outside, the door banging shut behind him, and I curse him out in my head as I listen to the creak of the wooden boards beneath their feet as they cross the porch.

Alone with my Rejects, I suddenly feel nervous. I haven’t had much time alone with them especially after the fiasco with the wedding, and now this, I couldn’t blame them if they hated me.

Turning to face them, I blurt out, “I’m sorry,” hanging my head in shame. “I didn’t… I don’t…” I sigh, burying my face in my hands. “This is a complete disaster.”

I feel Oliver’s ingrained sense of calm wash over me as he approaches. I’m still hiding behind my hands, but I don’t need to see to know it’s him. His freshly showered scent, mixed with the woodsy smell of his body wash, envelops me like a favorite blanket. Gently, he pulls my hands away from my face and tucks a finger under my chin, lifting it until I have no choice but to look up at him.

“You have feelings for them.” He’s asked me this before, although this time it’s not a question.

“I love you.” I flick my gaze over his shoulder to Cain, including him in that declaration. “But yes, I have something with them too.” His shoulders drop slightly, and a hole forms in my heart at the thought of hurting either of them. It’s the very last thing I want to do. “I’m sorry.”

His fingers stroke along my cheek. “I won’t pretend to understand any of this, but you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.” The sincerity in Oliver’s tone has tears threatening, and I have to wonder when the hell I turned into such an emotional baby. I really need to get out and go Reaper on a few assholes so I can earn back some badass bitch points.

Leaning in, he brushes his lips over mine in a barely-there kiss. It lasts a fraction of a second, but in that moment, more intimacy passes between us than in any other kiss we’ve shared.

“Are you sure about this?” Cain asks, speaking up for the first time.

I shake my head. “No, but it’s the only way I can see where we can all get what we want.”

His lips purse. “Do you trust them?”

There’s no hesitation as I confidently state, “Yes.”

I can tell he’s still unsure, not quite believing me, and who can blame him. Stepping away from Oliver, I close the distance between us. He’s still so angry and confused, and I’m not sure whether he wants me to touch him or not. “Tell me you love me.”

He blows out a breath, some of the anger dissipating as his hand slides into my hair, and he yanks me against him. “You might just be the death of me, but I’ll love you until my dying breath.” His lips slam down on mine, claiming me as his tongue pushes past my lips. His kiss is hard and desperate and at complete odds with Oliver’s gentle touch. We’re both breathing heavily when he pulls back, but in that moment, I know I haven’t lost them and that eases something inside me.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” I promise them.

“Pack a bag,” Cain orders, possession and arousal brimming in his emerald, green eyes.

Smirking, I turn on my heel and walk out. Stepping onto the front porch, I tilt my head up to the sky, letting the afternoon sun wash over me as I breathe in the fresh air. Dante and Enzo are in the car, but I can feel their eyes on me. I ignore them, needing a minute to myself.Nobody died, I remind myself. That’s got to be a good sign, right?

***

To say the drive back to Dante’s was tense would be an understatement. It was the most uncomfortable car ride of my life. And considering I once sat in this same car wondering if Dante was going to kill me, that’s saying something.

They continue to give me the silent treatment as we walk into the house, but I don’t need words to know how they’re feeling. It’s in the hard clip of Dante’s soles as they strike the floor, the way Enzo haphazardly throws his tie on the breakfast bar. It’s the stiff set to Dante’s face and his impenetrable, cold mask. It’s the fury roiling off Enzo like he’s about to lose his shit at any moment. They are complete opposites. Ice cold and molten hot. It’s only a matter of time until one of them snaps, and I quietly move to sit on the sofa, deciding I may as well get comfortable while I wait them out.

They both bang around, Dante downing two full glasses of whiskey while Enzo repeatedly opens the fridge door before slamming it shut. It would almost be amusing if there wasn’t so much on the line. Lives. Freedom. My heart.

“What the actual fuck, Sawyer?!” Enzo roars after his third slam of the fridge door. He storms across the room until he’s looming over me. “You could at least have given us a heads up.”

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t have gone if I had.” And he knows it.

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