“White Fox.”
“Nice try, baby O. We both know there is no more White Fox.” Dex shook his head with the drink pulled to his mouth. His eyes slid over to his mates, who both stood in the corner of the pub watching us.
I took a step closer and cut off his line of vision to his entourage. My confession had to stay discreet, for Dex’s ears only considering I had what he wanted, and the very thing he wouldn’t want to share with anyone else, especially his boss. Greed and power and all. “I am White Fox.”
My comment captured his attention as I knew it would.
Dex lowered his drink, his brows pinching together. “I don’t understand.”
“You knew my brother. He was a bloody idiot, all jump first, ask questions later. He didn’t try and force me all these years because we shared the same blood. No,” I shook my head and leaned closer, “he wanted me because I didn’t operate like everyone else. I think outside the box. I see lines before they’re drawn. I feel intentions before they’re stated. I’m always ten steps ahead.”
“You are White Fox.”
I held my arms out to the sides. “In the flesh.”
MIA WAS ACTING STRANGE.
Not your typical girl who’d been taken and held against her will. Although Miss Jett was anything but ordinary, so I wasn’t sure what to expect with her. First, she’d been hell bound on killing me, which was expected. Now, it was as if she couldn’t recite the alphabet.
She was confusing the hell out of me.
Our stay at the cabin lasted longer than I’d originally wanted. Mia, again, disrupted my plan, and I had to figure this shit out. For almost two years, the plan had been in motion. The cabin held all my resources before taking off to another country. By the time my mates from the academy put the pieces together at Dolor—if they ever put the pieces together—I would be long gone without a trace, living somewhere on some yacht, over some ocean, sipping on some drink in some warmer weather.
But what the fuck was I going to do with Mia? Not only did she corrupt my plans, but she cracked my common sense too. And she was right. I wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Mia was the first girl I’d cared about since Livy died. It also didn’t mean I was just going to let her walk out of here. Perhaps she could learn to spend the next sixty years or so running away with me. Maybe she could learn a thing or two about life on the water. Anchor a ship, sail through a storm, and learn to gut a fish—maybe even learn to love me.
Surprisingly, no one was looking for her anyway.
Dean Avery kept me updated. I’d met the twenty-something-year-old gypsy two years ago after a trip to Nova Scotia during a bidding war in Halifax on the Carmen Olivia. It seemed, no matter the cost, we’d both stopped at nothing to win the beautiful boat with the fated name of my sister. After a long day back and forth, both of us had been out fucking bidden and exchanged sob stories over aged whiskey at Durty Nelly’s. Dean had been running away from something too. We’d connected. He’d disapproved of my plans to murder. But he’d understood my reasons and my fight for family, for justice. He’d gone on about being able to do things most couldn’t and get me the documents I needed to help carry out my revenge.
It was then, two strangers in an Irish pub both far away from home, when justice became more than a dream. It became real—tangible. By the time we’d parted ways, it was as if we were two brothers from another lifetime. I’d never seen him again after that. Dean changed his number every month, along with his location. He’d call once a week, same time, and kept his promise on getting the documents and information I needed.
No one reported Mia as missing yet.
I only needed her to trust me enough to get her quietly on a plane out of the UK. Her passport and birth certificate were easy to retrieve, thanks to Dean. I’d left a few details out, the biggest one being I’d taken Mia against her will. Dean was under the impression she was my girl. He’d never go for kidnapping, especially if he knew she was in love with someone else. Dean could look past a lot, even me murdering killers, but not separating love. Hopefully, I could break the fucking umbilical cord tying Mia to Masters soon and get her on team Ethan before we had to board a plane.
Staying here another day wasn’t an option.
We had to leave tomorrow.
“What’s taking so long?” I asked after knocking a knuckle over the bathroom door. She’d been in there too long. Mia didn’t answer. “I’m coming in.” The bathroom door creaked open, and Mia had submerged herself in the tub with her head peeking above the waterline. “What are you doing?”
She looked straight ahead at the water dripping from the faucet.
“Mia?”
Drip.
Drip.
“Come on, let’s get out of here, yeah?” I took a seat over the toilet and looked down at her. “You’re going to freeze to death.”
Mia didn’t move. Mia didn’t blink. I’d seen her naked too many times to count, but each time still sent a buzz to my cock. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been buried inside a female, using all my nights caring for the tease instead. Not like she owed me anything for it.
But there she was, ivory skin, perfectly proportioned tits, pink hardened nipples, and a soft velvety pussy. My fingers and tongue had been inside her. I’d tasted her. I’d pushed my dick through her slit, feeling her warmth, and she still wouldn’t let me in. It was no secret, the girl got an A for pissing me off, but I fed off the challenge. Masters’ hold had been stronger than I thought, but it wouldn’t be much longer until I’d have her completely. Over the last few days, she’d turned into this emotionless puppet. I pulled every string, and she submitted.
I yanked the plug from the tub and gripped her arm and forced her out. Mia stood before me naked and wet as I took a seat over the toilet. She didn’t even shiver. Just fucking stood there and stared ahead, her olive skin asking to be touched despite her refusal to talk to me. It creeped me out how out of touch she was with reality.
My palms wrapped around her sides, and I dragged my hands up until they rested below her breasts. Mia’s muscles relaxed in my hands, and I brushed over her nipples with the pads of my fingers. She took a step forward between my opened thighs, and my gaze flicked up from her breasts to her face. Her expression was stone cold. Was she testing me?
“Jett, you’re being ridiculous. You can’t act like this forever,” I sighed, dropped my hands, and stood, towering over her to yank the towel from the hook.
Mia didn’t move.
I dried her off and slipped one of my shirts over her head. My puppet. Mia’s hair was still wet. I rang it out into the towel. Utterly immobile, Mia allowed me to care for her. It made her easy at first. The past three days, she’d been out of the zip ties. And maybe she trusted I wasn’t going to hurt her. Perhaps she finally fucking realized I cared. I had only been doing what was best. But I missed her storm. I missed the bite in her words and the fury in her eyes. I missed the fucking challenge.
She followed my lead willingly down the stairs and stood beside the mattress—waiting for my next command. “Get some sleep. We’re leaving in the morning. Somewhere warm.” Like she fucking cared. Mia’s eyes never left the window as she sprawled out over her side of the mattress. I shook my head and flipped the lights off, trusting she’d be in the same position when I’d get back like she was the night before.