“Mile and a half,” I say.
His black skin turns almost ashen as he looks at me. “Sir?”
“If you call me sir one more fucking time, I can be a mile and a half away for an easy shot. If we’re closer to the two mile range, I might take an arm off or your nuts. Haneul would be pretty pissed about that if I think about it.” I grin at him.
Uriel shakes his head and frowns at me. “You know it’s not like that, asshole. Old military protocol and shit. Han… he’d be really mad.”
“How’s the hubby doing?” I ask him.
Uriel grins. “Good, I think. At least he hasn’t complained, not that he would. He’s in heaven over at the compound. He’s always wanted to have the freedom a personal chef has.”
I’ve known this man for almost a decade. We were never as close as we are now, as brothers, but we’ve been in the same killing pools for a long time.
I was pretty sure Han would love the opportunity, and I’m glad to hear he’s happy. While he was amazing in the restaurants he worked for in Korea, here he’s the chef to a small cadre of men and their families. Most specifically—Lucifer, Lily, Adam, David, and Evie.
“You doing okay? You know the ritual shit we said and the bonding… You’re in. There isn’t any fucking hierarchy in the circle. You’re in, no way out, and no sirs,” I say quietly.
Uriel is a guy I’ve been working on for a couple of years now. We were in need of more men when I joined the family, and it’s only grown worse with all the deaths...
Uriel’s been around the family long enough through the security end to know we aren’t good men. He knows what we do, and just like back in the sandbox, he knows how to be quiet.
A lot of times, back in training ops, he and I would play the game of love taps. If we were on opposite sides, we’d see who could sneak up behind the other and take them out. It was a good way to stay sharp, and it showed me that despite his size, the motherfucker is as quiet as a mouse.
He moved and could stay hidden until the end of the world.
“I’m good, James, and I owe you for the vouch,” he says. Then he glances back at the bright blue morning. “Going to get back out there, though. Dickers and Trent have been trying to tighten the patrol. They want to catch us, but stupid fucks don’t have a chance.”
“Alright, man. Give Han a hug from me. You want some casserole before you head out?” I ask.
Laughing loudly, Uriel shakes his head at me. “Han would accuse me of cheating on him.”
Shaking my head right back at him, I take the laptop bag and shut the door.
I’m glad I’ve got that fucker out there, same as Michael. Both are good men and will keep this shitshow from getting out of hand.
“Why are Dickers and Trent driving around the house?” Sophia asks as I pass her by.
Well… shit.
“You want some breakfast casserole?” I ask, ignoring her question.
“I’d rather give Johnathan’s biker buddies rimjobs than eat anything you’ve made,” she snarls at me while she stands up from the chair, dumping Mitzy and Fluffers off her lap.
Mitzy looks up at me with annoyance, as if it’s my fault her new lap left her.
6
Sophia
Last night was probably the hardest night of my life. Foolishly, I thought I had the strength to endure James and my grief at the same time. I thought I could get an idea of his involvement in my father’s death.
But the moment I walked up to the front door of my house and the realization that no one was waiting for me on the other side hit, something inside me cracked.
I held on as long as I could. I endured and used James’s unwelcome presence as a distraction from the empty ache that was eating me from the inside out.
But as soon as I was alone, everything inside me splintered into pieces.
The pain was so crushing, so all-consuming, I could barely breathe past it.
I thought for sure I was going to be crushed to death by my own emotions.
Then James was there… just like that night… catching me and trying to put me back together.
I remember vividly clinging to him. His warm skin against my skin.
His heart beating for mine.
He was the blazing fire in the blizzard of my despair.
Urging me to go on.
He was everything I needed in that moment. The pillar of strength holding me up. With his help, somehow I found sleep and a few hours of peace.
Then I woke up.
I expected him to be gone. To give up and move on.
Obviously, I’m in no shape or form to provide anything useful to him or his boss.
But he’s still here… still pretending to care…
Strutting around in his gray sweatpants without a shirt on and making himself at home.
And the fact that I’ve stupidly and weakly fallen not once but twice into his trap is not only scaring the hell out of me, it’s pissing me off.
The crude words about Johnathan’s biker buddies slip out of my mouth before I can even comprehend why I said them. “I’d rather give Johnathan’s biker buddies rimjobs than eat anything you’ve made.”
I don’t normally talk like this… but I just want to be alone.
I want to be left in peace.
I can’t deal with him sharing the same air as me and the pain at the same time.
James glances down at his dog then his gaze snaps back up to me. I watch annoyance flash in his eyes, but it disappears as soon as he takes a deep, calming breath.
Forcing a smile that looks more feral than friendly, he says through clenched teeth, “You need to eat, Sophia.”
I don’t understand what’s going on, and I don’t understand why he won’t give up and leave. When I got in his car with him yesterday, I was under the impression he was doing it simply out of obligation.
That he really didn’t want to do it.
But he’s still here…
Still here and trying to push me to actually give a fuck.
And not only is it irritating, it doesn’t make any sense.
Why bother? Unless it’s some kind of scheme? Does he hope I’ll come to trust him or rely on him like I did that night we met?
Doesn’t he realize how much I despise him for what he did to me?
Despise that he made me need him, again.
“I’m not hungry,” I mutter.
Spinning on my heel, I stomp away. I need somewhere quiet. Somewhere I don’t have to see his unbearable face or hear him breathe.
Heading for my father’s study, I make it all the way down the hallway before I feel his touch.
“I don’t care if you’re hungry or not,” he says with exasperation. “You need to eat so you don’t get sick.”
Tugging on my elbow, he tries to turn me back around, but I manage to yank my arm away before he can.
“Go away, James,” I snap, “and take your little dog, too.”
Great. Now he’s turned me into the Wicked Witch of the West.
I sense him freezing behind me for a split second, and my steps quicken. I manage to open the door to the study before he lets out a low growl and rushes up behind me.
I try to slam the door in his face but he pushes right through it.