Page 51 of The Players

“You will always be safe with us.”

“Not… always…” Bad memories threatened to resurface but she pushed them away. Nothing was going to kill her buzz. This dream was too good to give up.

“Not always?”

Pesky voice.

Why can’t you leave me alone?

“Sleepy,” she mumbled.

“Tell me what you’re afraid of…”

What an odd question for a dreamy voice. There were many things she feared—losing the people she loved, Franco coming back from the grave. But there was one that was most likely to happen in the near future.

“Pictures.” She yawned. “He’s got my pictures. Franco made me… How am I ever going to get them back?”

A curse burst through her little bubble, pulling her out of the warm cocoon she was nestled in. Her eyes shot open.

Seeing Vince and Sy look at her with a mixture of pity and anger was like being dumped into an ice bath. Her happy place shattered into a million pieces.

“You… you…” she sputtered. “I can’t believe you did this.” She pulled the sheets up to her chin as she felt her lips tremble.

No! Get a grip.

You can’t fall apart in front of them.

Must. Hold. It. Together.

She wanted to yell at them for taking advantage of her weak moment. Scream at them for making her tell them about her shame. Then Sy pulled her close. He tucked her head underneath his chin. It didn’t matter though. She wasn’t falling for it. She wasn’t going to yield. A kiss, so soft she almost believed she’d imagined it, was placed on her shoulder.

Vince. He inched closer and put a protective arm around her. They didn’t say anything. All they did was hold her close, until she could no longer keep her back straight.

It was as if a dam burst, flooding away all the pain she’d held inside. Pain she had deserved for not acting, making a stand, when she should have done so. No matter the soul cleansing she felt inside, the guilt, high as a mountain, was still resting on her shoulders.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Vince kept saying the words, over and over again, so much so that they became a chorus, resonating in her heart. A heart she had lost a long time ago to him. Something she had known all along. As he kept petting her, telling her she was safe, her shoulders shook from the unshed tears she’d held inside for so long. Little by little, he was destroying the wall of resentment toward him that festered inside her.

Sy enveloped her in his muscular arms, entwined their limbs, giving her his heat from her head to her toes. It was at that moment she knew she had lost her heart again, not once, but twice. The knowledge was like a kick to the stomach, harder than any punishment Franco had doled out. His abuse she could take, because eventually it would stop, and even in her broken and bruised state, she knew she held the moral high ground. And, in a way, that had given her something to hold on to.

But here, with these men who did their best to console her,shewas the evil one.

At least they don’t know about Marni…

They didn’t know how she had let that little girl down. How spineless she had been while being faced with a terrified child. They believed Franco had forced her to visit Red Velvet. They believed her to be good and selfless. If they ever found out the truth, she would lose them. Lose the comfort they gave her. Lose their respect, but most of all, lose the chance to make them love her one day in return.

And that, she couldn’t bear.

They could never know about her deepest regret.

CHAPTER 18

SY

Sy hated Mexican standoffs. Even if it wasn’t an actual standoff in the field, three factions trying to off each other at the same time was for fucking amateurs. Too many bodies to clean up afterward. Another reason why he liked being a hitman; nothing beat working in solitude. The other night at Flux proved that a three-way—and not in a good way—ended up badly. It had been a close call. If the twins hadn’t come up with reinforcements, it could have ended much worse than half of the kitchen staff getting wiped out. It was time to shake some trees, hunt some rats. No one could shoot on Bratva territory and get away with it. Not without losing a gallon of blood. Which had been why he’d volunteered to go on the cockroach hunt.

And because you didn’t want to face Carmen this morning.

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