She shrugs. “I thought it was the better of two options.”
“What was the other option?”
“Knocking you out.”
My blood heats, more so when I hear Brad snickering. “I’ll kill you, Brad,” I warn.
“Oh fuck off.” He chuckles. “You wanted a woman. Now deal with it.”
“I’ll kill you, Brad,” Beau warns, and the fucker gets his amusement under control in an instant, as if purposely riling me more. For fuck’s sake.
“Get me some bolt croppers.” I turn to our audience but am forced to face Beau again when she grabs me by the balls, literally, with her uncuffed hand. “Fuck, Beau,” I squeak, my body folding, my stomachache instant.
Her face close to mine, she loosens her grip slightly and kisses me softly. I swallow, unable to resist falling into the slow motions of her mouth’s movements on mine.
“You’re still not coming,” I mumble, feeling her sigh into my mouth. “This isn’t up for negoci—”
“I promise to do as I’m told.”
I laugh under my breath. “Why do you lie?”
“I need you close, James.” She releases my balls and lays her hand across my heart. “Please don’t leave me behind.”
She’s strong but needs my strength. Determined but needs my encouragement. She needs me.
Well . . . fuck.
I swallow, my mind scrambling, as I regard her. I see sadness now. Full force. Her period is due today. Will it come? I don’t know. I also don’t know if I want it to, but I do know that I need to be around if it doesn’t. And, more importantly, if it does.
Jesus.
I nod, kiss her, and turn to take my seat, offering my hand across the aisle. She places hers in mine.
I don’t release it for the entire flight.
.
There are three shiny black Mercedes waiting on the runway when we land, each of them intended for different destinations—Beau and Fury back to the house, me to the club with Brad, and the others to the boatyard to check in on the bunker and Liam and Jerry.
I guide Beau down the steps to the tarmac by her elbow and toward the first car. “I’ll be back later,” I say, opening the door and helping her into the back as Fury puts himself behind the wheel, needing to adjust the seat considerably to fit.
“Where are you going?” she asks, not worried or disgruntled, it’s just a simple, curious question.
“Checking in on Nolan at Hiatus,” I say, taking her seatbelt and pulling it across her body, leaning into the car to clip it into place. My nose is bombarded by the intoxicating scent of Beau in bed in the morning. One of my favorite smells. Because I’m still all over her skin. Unable to stop myself, I bury my face in her neck and take a long, deep hit to last me until later, then bite down on her flesh.
“I can’t come with you?” she asks, pushing into me, grabbing at my shoulders.
“Not now,” I say, quickly going on to appease her. “I don’t know what we’re coming back to.”
“And when you do?”
I pull out and stroke across her fair eyebrow. “Can I take a raincheck on answering that?”
She exhales, her body softening. She’s not unreasonable. Not all of the time, and I know she knows I won’t think twice about carrying her back onto that jet, handcuffing her back to the chair, and sending her back to St. Lucia. “You can.”
I nod and drop a chaste kiss on her lips. “See you later.” I raise and take the door to close it, but her hand shoots out to stop me.
“Can I at least go visit my mom?”
Her question catches me off guard. Fuck. “You don’t want to go back to the house to shower and change?”
“Why, do I smell?” She shoves her nose into her armpit and sniffs.
“Yes, you smell of me mixed with a lot of you.” Fucking glorious.
She smiles. “Then I can wait.”
I deflate, tapping the driver’s window so that Fury lowers it. “You loaded?” He nods. “Pop the trunk.” I round the back of the car and pull out the side panel, collecting the small handgun and checking the magazine as Fury closes it again. “Here.” I hand it to Beau, who hardly looks at the damn thing as she too checks it’s loaded before lifting her arse from the seat and slipping it into the back of her sweatpants. “Be safe,” I order.
She looks up at me with slightly lazy eyes as she reaches for the door, forcing me back. “You be safe,” she counters, closing it. Fury wastes no time pulling off, and I watch the car until it turns off the airfield.
“You ready?” Brad asks, shouldering me as he passes and slips into the driver’s seat of the last Merc.
“Ready,” I say quietly, putting my hand up at the second Merc as it takes Ringo, Goldie, and Otto to the boatyard. I slip into the car and dial Danny, putting him on loudspeaker. “Just landed,” I say when he answers. “How’s Rose?”
“The worst patient ever.”
I smile and Brad chuckles. “Use the time wisely, yeah?” I say, mindful that Brad is sitting next to me and doesn’t know the extent of the shit that’s gone down between Danny and Rose. This is an unexpected opportunity for Danny to step back and screw his head back on straight. We’ve got things covered here.
“Yeah,” he agrees, but it’s reluctant, something both Brad and I detect. I look across the car to him, and he nods, acknowledging the joint observation. We both know his thirst for this particular kill is unrelenting. “You going straight to the club?” Danny asks.
“Brad needs to check in with Nolan and tell him the final payment from the Mexicans will be delayed in light of the late shipment.” I flick the aircon on higher, feeling stifled by Miami’s humidity already. “I’ll call Luis when I get to Hiatus to let him know to hold his money for now.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“And the discount?” Danny asks, prompting me to look across to Brad again as he hits the main road and puts his foot down.
“I don’t know,” Brad says, shrugging. “What’s the going rate for goodwill discounts on a small arsenal these days? One hundred, two hundred, three hundred grand? Oh, I know. Why don’t we just give the Mexican fucker our guns for free?”
I smile and return my attention to Danny on the phone. “I’ll deal with it. I’ll let you know the new plan once the men report back from the boatyard.”
“Sure,” he mutters, his voice sharp.
I hang up, leaving Danny festering about that, and rest back in my seat, watching Miami fly by. “Glad to be back?” I ask Brad.
“My dick is,” he says, and I smile, knowing he’s been deprived in that area while we’ve been in St. Lucia. “But my inner peace, not so much.”
I hum, silently agreeing.
Inner peace.
That fucker is elusive in this life.
I stop on the threshold of the entrance to the club, gazing around. Every light is on, the bar staff restocking, the dancers practicing. Nolan emerges from the office, suited and booted, and the moment he spots Brad and me, a fleeting look of panic flashes across his face before he corrects it and smiles widely.