Pain tightens his features. “Do you regret it? Did I…hurt you?” He chokes out the words, and I hate he’s been beating himself up over something that’s entirely my fault.
“No.” I slide my hand in his. “Not at all. It was everything I had hoped for and more. That’s the problem.”
His brow puckers, but he doesn’t pull his hand away. “I’m not following.”
Lo lifts her head from his shoulder, rubbing his arm as she smiles encouragingly at me.
Nerves prickle my skin, but I open myself up, exposing my vulnerability, because I owe him at least that much. “I’m scared, man. Of feeling too much. Of fucking everything up. Of hurting you. Of getting my heart broken.” The words rush out in quick succession, but at least I got them out.
“Theo.” He sits forward, palming one side of my face. “You think I don’t feel those things too?”
“You do?” I’m surprised because nothing seems to faze Caz. He owns who he is, and he’s fearlessly brave.
“I do, because this is you.” He grips the back of my neck, staring into my eyes. “I want you as more than just a friend. I love you as more than just a friend. But I don’t want to fuck things up either, because I can’t lose you.”
Lo swipes at the tears pooling in her eyes as I lean forward, pressing my forehead to Caz’s. “We can be scared together,” I whisper over his mouth, peering into his warm, honest brown eyes. “And I love you too,” I add before my lips meld against his.
CHAPTER 42
Harlow
“CAN I TALK to you both?” Theo asks Saint and Galen the following morning as we eat breakfast at the table.
Saint squirms on his seat. “If this is about last night, you don’t need to say anything.”
“We’re cool with it,” Galen adds. “As long as you’ve worked your shit out.”
“You’re seriously okay with it?” Theo asks, color blooming in his cheeks.
Caz is grinning from ear to ear, contributing nothing to the conversation, spooning cereal into his mouth while he watches it going down.
“Yup.” Saint slurps coffee from a mug.
“It’s not like it was a big secret,” Galen adds, stuffing the last piece of toast into his mouth. “We could tell you were hot for each other.” The words are muffled over his chewing, but the sentiment is clear.
Caz stands, rounding the table and clamping his hand down on Theo’s shoulder. “They’re cool with PDAs and live porn reenactments too. In case you were wondering.”
Theo’s cheeks get redder while Saint spits coffee all over the table.
“You’re such a shit-stirrer,” Galen says, licking his bowl clean. “Pun intended.” He waggles his brows, his mouth stretched into the biggest grin.
“Okay.” Saint stands abruptly, throwing his hands up. “Enough. We’re cool for you to do your thing. End of story.”
And just like that, our leader has spoken, ending the conversation, much to Theo’s obvious relief.
_______________
We leave school early on Wednesday to attend the meeting Diesel has set up with the various interested parties. Not gonna lie, I’m on edge for a whole heap of reasons, but if we can do this—if we can work together—it means Sinner’s end is close, and that’s all that matters.
Galen blares the music as Saint drives my Lexus to the secret meeting. Following the coordinates Diesel sent us, Saint drives into an industrial park on the outskirts of the bustling town of Grenlow, coming to a halt in front of a small hardware store.
Saint’s lips pull into a snarl as he parks beside Diesel’s Land Rover, and I smother a smile. The back door opens abruptly, and Diesel leans inside, arms stretched overhead as he holds onto the door frame. “A few things before we go inside,” he says without bothering with formalities. His eyes drop to the necklace on my chest. “You’re wearing it, good. Only activate it once we are in the room. They have mad security here, and I don’t want it to trigger any system.”
“You don’t trust these guys,” Saint says, spinning around in the driver’s seat.
“I trust few people and definitely not a group of this size. Many of these men are unknowns, so tread carefully.” His somber gaze roams between us.
“What else do we need to know?” I ask.
“Don’t mention the recording we have of Sinner and the board instructing you to kill the commissioner.”
“Because you don’t trust everyone or it’s something else?” Theo asks, leaning forward on his elbows.
“We need to be cautious, and until this goes down, I don’t know if we can trust anyone with that intel.”
“We keep it to ourselves. Got it,” Galen says.
“What about the FBI agent? He’ll be here, right?” Diesel nods. “Did you meet him the other night?” I inquire.
“Yes. He’s a good guy, and I believe him when he says he’s on our side. He was only assigned to this case eight months ago, which is a little unusual for a man who’s been an agent for less than four years. But I did some digging, and he graduated top of his class from Quantico, and he continues to impress his bosses, so they gave him a high-profile case in the hopes he would crack it.”
“Why didn’t he tell you Giana was recruited as an FBI informant?” Galen asks.
“There was a good reason for that, but I’m not at liberty to disclose it.”
I exchange suspicious looks with my husbands before clearing my throat and focusing on Diesel. “I thought we agreed to share everything? That we’re a team?”
“We are a team.” He lets his gaze fall on each one of us. “And I’ve told you things that could get me fired. This is political, and it doesn’t impact what we’re doing. If I felt you needed to know, I would tell you.”
I peer into his earnest eyes, and I believe him. The guys are all staring at me, letting me decide. “Okay. If you say we don’t need to know, we don’t need to know.”
His shoulders relax in obvious relief. “Thank you.”
“Anything else?” Saint glances at the time on his cell.
“Let me do most of the talking, and only speak if you’re asked a direct question.”
“Then why the fuck are we here?” Caz asks, checking his weapon.
“You’re here because I insisted you play a part, but that doesn’t mean any of these people trust you or respect you.”
“Wow. That’s reassuring,” Galen snarks, twiddling his brow ring.
“I’m telling you how it is.” Diesel’s tone brooks no argument. “You’re all members of the very organization we are trying to take down.”
“We’re fucking helping you do it,” Saint barks, glaring daggers at Diesel like this is his fault.
“And that is how I secured your presence here and got overall agreement. But you are still kids, and—”
“We’re fucking eighteen,” Saint hisses, leaning forward in his seat. He jabs his finger at Diesel. “We’re adults, not kids.”
“Galen is only seventeen,” Diesel reminds us. “And it wasn’t meant as an insult.” He stabs Saint with a serious look. “I know your value. I know you are not like normal eighteen-year-olds. I know you are all razor-sharp and that your reasons for taking The Sainthood down are legit and why. I trust you.” Tension splinters the air. “I trust all of you, but that’s because I’m around you and I’ve learned to trust you.”