Page 14 of Surrender

That draws my attention. That’s a second attempt on his life. “When did you last check your mail?” I ask Cristiano.

He grimaces. “I don’t know. It’s been stressful, all right? Look, I got busy with the half-dead twink in my guest room.”

“So we have no way of knowing if it arrived before or after the whole warehouse incident,” I say, groaning. “We should check my mail drop box to see if I have any fun presents.”

“Briar can check it,” Cristiano says. Before I can protest, he continues, “You’ll have to change its location, codes, keys, everything. You’ve been compromised, and there’s no sense in continuing to put yourself at risk. If people know how to find you for other jobs, they’ll still be able to find you.”

He’s right, but that doesn’t help with the bigger problem.

“They can’t,” I say, gritting my teeth. “There’s a person who watches it. If anybody but me shows up to get mail, they’re in for a bad time.”

A bad time, and then some, before that bad time comes for me.

Fuck.

“Someone or something?” Briar asks, their eyes narrowing. “We have people who can deal with traps and most threats.”

“This isn’t most threats,” I answer, and for some reason, I try to get closer to Cristiano. “Never mind. Leave it alone. We’ll focus on who’s trying to kill—” I almost say Daddy, “Cristiano.”

“And you,” Cristiano points out, wrapping an arm around me. I don’t think he intends to. It feels more like a reflex, because he tenses after he does it like he just realized what he’d done. He leaves his arm around me, though. “Because this wasn’t an accident. Someone was trying to kill you as well, Fox.”

“Well, we could solve the problem of at least one person trying to kill you if we take care of… Fox,” Briar says. “We could make an example.”

I sneer at them. “Yeah? Who’s it an example for? You don’t even know where you’d have to send my body. And you’d also be doing half their job for them since I’m one of the targets too.”

“Let’s not get hasty,” Cristiano says, and I think I feel a slight tightening of his arm around my waist. “Keeping Fox alive and on our side proves more than simply killing him.”

Briar scowls back at me, and I don’t miss the way their eyes flick between Cristiano and me. “For now. Once we take care of whoever’s targeting him, he’ll just try to kill you anyway.”

I roll my eyes. “The only reason I tried to kill him was for the money. I get the feeling that deal is off, so… I don’t care if he stays alive. I’m an assassin, not a serial killer.”

“And if somehow Fox gets another offer on my life, he’s going to come to me so I can counter that offer,” Cristiano says as amicably as if we’ve discussed this at some point.

Briar’s eyes narrow.

I smile at Briar. “You see? Daddy and I have it all worked out. Why don’t you focus on the important things instead?”

Like who the fuck would mail something dangerous to Cristiano? It’d be a lot easier to investigate all this if I had access to my own resources, but I’m not going to tell either of these two who I am.

I don’t think it’d be a good idea for Cristiano and Corbin to meet, anyway.

My hands clench against Cristiano’s shirt.

Briar doesn’t seem to miss it, though they only give a shake of their head and run their hand through their hair. “Then I’ll work on cleaning up. I asked… one of the guys to look into the mail situation for you.”

I notice their hesitation, probably an attempt to keep me from learning the name of whoever they’re talking about. Not like it makes much of a difference to me. If I need to know who it is, I can find out…

…once I’m with Corbin again.

But I don’t want to see him yet. My back is still too cut up.

I wonder if he thinks I'm dead.

I wonder if I want him to believe that I am.

“Thank you,” Cristiano says. He sighs, glancing back at the television, where another episode of the home renovation show is playing. “As much as I’d love to lie low for a few days, I should get back out there. It’s too dangerous to have people wondering if something happened to me. I’ll go out to the club tonight and put in an appearance.”

“Club?” I ask, sitting up straighter. “What club? Is it safe?”

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