Page 48 of Scorned Queen

He stands and takes me with him, his hand sliding under my hair and pressing warmly to my neck.“I don’t want you to be anywhere but here, Alana.I should never have stayed away this long.I should have ended this and done so decisively, but I’m going to now.Walker is here.They’ll stay with you, but I have to go out for a little while—”

“No,” I say, my heart leaping and my fingers curling at his sides around his shirt.“No, you will not.We agreed that tonight—”

“I’m making sure we have many more nights,” he vows, his mouth slanting over my mouth, tongue stroking deep.And just that easily, I’m drowning in all things Damion West; in the taste of him, the musky male scent of him fills me up and slides inside the emptiness that was me without him.I’d convinced myself so many times in my life that I didn’t need him, but I do.I need him with every part of me, and too easily I’ve seen how we fall apart.

The very thought has me pushing on his chest, shoving him back, and not gently.He sits in the chair, and I climb right on top of him, straddling him, my hands planting on his shoulders.“He pushed your buttons, Damion.And every time he does, you react fast and hard, and it’s the only time I’ve seen you act rashly.He knows that, too.Wait to do whatever you plan to do.Wait until morning.”

His hands settle warmly on my waist; his touch is possessive and all-consuming.The heat between us is downright combustible, but his lashes sweep low on his cheeks and there is a tic in his jaw.“Damion,” I press, my hand to his jaw, rough stubble against my delicate skin, but it is the only part of me that is delicate right now.He needs to hear me.“Please look at me.”

He presses his hand to mine, curls it into his, easing it between us.His blue eyes are a mix of tenderness and steel that tells me he’s already made up his mind.“We’ve waited a lifetime for this night.”

“We have,” he says, with such certainty in his voice that it’s as if I’ve made his point for him.

“What does that even mean?”I ask, certain that it reaches beyond the obvious.

“We waited too long, Alana.Iwaitedtoo long to come for you, and the reason I waited was because I submit to him when I submit to no one.That’s what he expects of me.More of the same.”He stands up and takes me with him, his hands on my face, tilting my gaze to his.“You woke me up.This has gone on too long.”His thumb strokes my cheek.“Trust me, baby.I need to take action.I’m clearing that path I promised you I’d clear.So you can marry me.”

His mouth closes over mine, his tongue sliding deep, and I moan with the taste of man and whiskey, a swell of emotion overwhelming me.I want to push away from him and force him to talk to me.I want to drag his hands to my body and distract him from his father’s head games, but I never get the chance to do either.

He tears his mouth from mine, his breath warm and heavy on my lips, mine all but coming out in pants.“I’ll try not to be late.Lock up behind me.”He sets me away from him, and before I can blink, he’s around the chairs and headed for the door, grabbing his jacket at the door and turning to me.“Come lock up.”

I snap out of my stunned state and rush that direction, but he doesn’t wait for me.He exits the apartment.Once I’m at the door, I want to open it.I want to go after him, but I know it’s too late.He’s gone.

Chapter thirty-nine

Damion

Controlisaking’sgold, my father has always told me, and control has been his for far too long.Leaving Alana tonight is the last thing I want to do, but it’s necessary.My father has to be dealt with, and until that happens, she’ll never be safe.

I exit the elevator at the lobby, where Adam waits on me.He offers me a nod and steps into the car, on his way to our floor, where he will closely guard the apartment and Alana.I trust him, which is not something I say of many people I’ve recently met, or even known for a lifetime, for that matter.But Blake doesn’t steer me wrong.He chooses his men closely, and it shows.He has morals.They do, too.It’s a unique perspective on living if you judge the world by those who gather and occupy mine.

I cross the lobby with measured steps and exit to a chilly night, where an SUV is waiting on me in front of the building, ready to deliver me to my meeting with Caleb.Once inside the backseat, I find Savage waiting for me on the seat across from me.He’s a big man, at least six-three, with a scar down his cheek and, based on the one time I met him before, a stupid sense of humor that somehow works for him when it would for no other.

There’s nothing comical about him at the moment, though; his jaw set hard, his eyes sharp.He tosses a file on the seat next to me.“Before we leave, you need to look inside.That’s the many horrors that call Caleb a monster, not a man, and you don’t trust monsters.”

I don’t reach for the file.“Were you once a killer just like him?”

“Not just like him,” he says without hesitation.“I worked for a man I believed to be honorable, and believed I killed the enemies of this country.But what you need to know about becoming a contract killer is how easily you begin to kill.How removed from humanity you become.”

“Then what makes you different from him?”

“Aside from the reason I took the jobs I executed, which was not money,” he holds up his hand and indicates his wedding ring, “she does.And thank fuck I met her before I went off to war, or I might have become just like him.And for the record, the reason I trusted the man I worked for was not just his medals and rank.He was her father, and my father was worse.So I get fucked up families and fucked up fathers, and I’m telling you right now: use Caleb for information you most likely won’t get from him, but that’s it.One of us needs to put a bullet in his head, and I’ll do it without a blink.I won’t wake up guilty over it tomorrow.”

“You misjudge me if you think I’d feel guilty about killing a man who’d easily take cash to kill my woman.But he feels some sort of connection to me that I would not call loyalty or a compliment.It simply exists.I’ve never figured it out, but I’m willing to use it.”

“How?”he asks.

“Information.Which means you can’t be with me.”

“That’s a mistake,” he replies.“Because whatever you think you know about him, I know more.And he’ll know I know more.A killer knows a killer when he looks them in the eye.”He leans in closer and meets my stare.“I’m looking into your eyes.You are not a killer.Don’t kid yourself into thinking otherwise.He doesn’t respect you, not the way you need him to respect you, not unless you come with me.”

“So, you want him to respect you?”I bite out.

“Bringing me gets you respect.You don’t need to be the guy who’ll pull the trigger.You just need to be smart enough to hire the guy who will.That’s your respect.”

That comment punches and then spirals to a pit in my soul where all things my father live and just won’t die.Everything he suggests is a little too like my father for my comfort.I became a little too like my father for my liking, most certainly Alana’s, but she’s been a target all her life because of me.

She deserves freedom from my family.

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