Page 50 of One Last Rainy Day
“Maybe you conveniently forgot, but it wasyour planto use her to get to Roman.”
“I won’t let you intentionally fuck with her,” he growls.
“The way you haveme?”
He swallows, eyes dropping as I turn back to the shelves.
“We’re going to end her father, Sean. There’s no future for you and Cecelia. Make peace with it.”
“I get that, but—”
“You fucking need to because France is eventually going to find what he’s looking for, and when he does, it’s only a matter of time. Once that happens, you can’t protect her.”
“And you won’t?”
Annoyed, I push past him to grab a shower, and he grips my bicep to stop me. Jerking away, I glare at him. “In a matter of hours—by your design—she’s going to know damn near everything and will most likely run anyway. So, this conversation is pointless. Areyouprepared for that? Because that’s the risk you’re taking baptizing her by fire.”
He hooks his thumbs into his jeans pocket. “It’s the way we’ve always done it when a recruit is ready. She’s earned my trust and the right to know who we are.”
“But she never truly will, will she? Even after you stomp on her rose-colored glasses.” Stepping toward my bathroom, I fist off my shirt. “I’m done debating this. Completely fucking done arguing about her. It was a mistake to bring her anywhere near us.”
“That’s your fear talking,” he digs in.
“No, it’s yours,” I snap. “We need to focus.”
Sean bites his piercing before turning to stalk out.
“You were right about her,” I call after him, kicking off my boots, “I’ll give you that much. I see her potential, just not for our club.”
He runs a hand through his hair as he lingers just inside my door. “Align yourself to any agenda you want when it comes to her, but I was fuckingthere, and Ifeltthat shit happen between you.” He shakes his head, refuting my stance. “You won’t hurt her. Not intentionally.”
“You have no fucking idea what I’m capable of,” I grit out as he leers at me.
“Yeah, well. Apparently, neither do you, asshole,” he counters, stalking out, his parting words filtering in from the hall. “But lucky for you,I do.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTERsending another fraudulent progress report regarding Roman’s daughter into the ether, I pull up to King’s, dreading the hours ahead. Karma has a good laugh at my expense when my headlights beam directly on Cecelia as I roll to a stop. Eyes fixated on the woman who has been occupying my waking thoughts the last few days, I rev my engine in signal. Silhouettes of the birds surrounding her scatter, heading toward their cars. The sight of her feet from my hood—dressed to murder my reinforced resolve—sends humming, rapidly heating blood straight to my cock. My thirsty eyes drink her in through the windshield where she stands motionless, just as absorbed by me, while some of my crumbling resignation starts to scatter from me like windswept ash.
Fuck.
If this is what infatuation feels like, it’s meant for lunatics.
I can already sense the screws loosening themselves from the hinges of the door I swore I mentally slammed shut.
Hating the parts of me responsible for the hasty betrayal—and Sean for knowing better as he steps up to her—myresignation is further compromised when her eyes light with Sean’s request that she rides with me.
After a brief back and forth, Sean catches my gaze for a beat before heading toward his Nova, his trust in me unwavering.
I decide to hate him for as long as I can for his unshakable faith in me—along with sharing his current obsession—while firmly sticking to the belief that labels are for weak-minded, insecure men. That a woman’s affection and loyalty should be freely given,neverdemanded. In a sense, he’s right. In another, he’s a goddamn fool. As allergic as I am to the feeling circus, evenI knowwomen crave some show of possessiveness, even if I agree they should be given the choice.
Bass thrumming in time with my heartbeat, Cecelia approaches, and I lean over and push open my passenger door. The night breeze sweeps her scent through my interior as she buckles in.
Nostrils flaring, I tighten my grip on the wheel, furious with my inability to ignore the pull. I cut off her attempt to greet me by tearing out of the parking lot. Her musical laughter rings through the cabin as I race toward the Meetup. Feeling every second of the attraction-induced chemical high, my earlier warning to Sean reverberates, striking me differently. Within the span of an hour, her perception of me will be altered—if not changed altogether. Just as I think it, she turns down the radio in search of some truth.
“Are we ever going to have a real conversation?”
Not possible.
