Page 72 of The Burnt Heart

“Here, here,” Logan grunted, having sidled up behind me again.

“This is what you’ve been afraid of?” Jonah said, and I slid the gun from under Ray’s chin and pointed it at him. I didn’t miss the flicker of hurt. Its twin twisted in my gut. His eyes narrowed, and his hands stretched out in a placating manner. Adrenaline surged inside me, and I breathed through the rush. I’d planned for him to hear all of this, to see if he reacted in some way. But Jonah was too good at guarding his expressions and I hadn’t spotted any signs of deceit.

“Are you working for Harold too, Jonah?” I accused, expecting him to do anything except laugh. It was shockingly bright, his chest heaving at the force of it. He wobbled out another weapon from his inside jacket pocket and slid it over to Jesse, who picked it up with fumbling confidence. I might be a sharp shot, but my guys? I’d kept them apart, untrained and innocent. I was confused by Jonah’s next move. He pursed his lips, shaking his head with disgust.

“No. How many times have I shown you? Hold it firm and get your grip right.” Jesse’s hands slid quickly, and Jonah nodded, like a proud father. “That’s better.”

“Jesus, this is painful,” Ray snapped, getting to his feet and snatching the weapon out of Jesse’s hands. He rolled his eyes in my direction. “You’ve gone full paranoia, haven’t you, Addy? Jonah is probably the only man not on Harold’s payroll.”

My nostrils flared as I looked at Jonah. He was still tense, but in that way that he always was. In fact, it wasn’t me he was looking at, his gaze coasting over my shoulder. Still looking for threats to me. He let me process silently.

“You can trust me,” he assured, gruffly. I pierced him with my gaze, traveling over every inch of him. He didn’t plead, didn’t beg or offer reasoning. Something deep inside me recognized his truth. He wasn’t working against me. I jerked my head, and he sagged, the movement minute.

“Let’s get out of here. I’ve got some snakes to slaughter.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out. Father. My throat burned with acid and in a spontaneous decision, I answered the phone. We hadn’t spoken since our last conversation, and I wasn’t ready to hear his voice. Familiar, beloved and revered. But my respect for him was tarnished silver. Precious but dulled. Marked but not unsalvageable.

“My girl,” he sighed, sounding relieved. “I’m glad you answered.”

“I hope there is an apology incoming. This call will end without it,” I growled.

“Please, let’s not fight. I want to explain myself. There are some guests here, so perhaps afterwards?”

I had always been a daddy’s girl. It was the obvious choice, when you have a brutal side and there was only one parent who encouraged it. As soon as I could walk, I trotted after his tall form, begging him to teach me. There was a gleam in his eyes, one I had only ever seen repeated in my grandparents’.

The mark of a predator. Innate strength, cunning and knowledge of someone who could kill at will.

Never had I ever heard his voice tremble like it did now. I marked it immediately, the wrongness of it jarring through me.

“I see, friends of ours?” I hedged, not encouraged by the heavy swallow.

“Old friends.” Again, the warble. Almost invisible to anyone else. But this was my father, and I knew him. Even if I didn’t like him very much right now, he was my blood. He was in danger. There was only one person the visitor could be.

Wait,I mouthed, holding up one finger to halt the movement of the surrounding men. They paused, like magnets as they drew in, tense.

“Harold is there? At your house?” I clarified and sliced my hand at the quiet panic everyone made. I pointed to the car, relieved when they started moving without asking any more questions.

“What is it bamb—”

I cut him off with a sob, thinking quickly. There was no telling what kind of devious plan the older Donato was up to. I needed something that would send him off kilter. I glared at the guys as they looked on in alarm.

“I’m glad you called. I’ve got some news and I need your help.”

“What is it?” His voice sharpened.

“I’m pregnant, and I think it’s Ray’s,” I whispered. “Can I come over?”

The only way to fool a predator was to tease it with what it wanted. Everything else would pale, including doubts and logic. I waited on his terse assent before I hung up the call. The command nestled on my tongue choked when Jesse stalked toward Ray. He paused with inches to spare, chest heaving as his arm swung and fist slammed into Ray’s face. The surprised man crumpled to the ground with a hoarse cry.

“You slept withmy wife?” Jesse roared.

33

Adelaide

Ray scowled at Jesse from across the seat.

“You going to let him get away with that?” he growled at me, nursing the purple blooming bruise on his chin. Jesse just shrugged, plucking at his seatbelt with a smug grin.

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