We find him in another living room open to a pool. He’s sitting in a dark red armchair, hands on his thighs, head hanging.

“Hey,” I say and drop into an armchair across from him, pulling Raylin to perch on the broad armrest by my side. “Everything all right?”

He grinds his teeth. “No.”

Dammit. “Then tell me. Tell us.”

“You should call your lawyers.”

“Fuck the lawyers.” My head throbs so bad it’ll split in two. “Spit it out before I shake it out of you, goddamn, Hawk!”

He sighs and lifts a hand to stop me. “All right.” He works his jaw. “The detective sent me his list of people your uncle met with and talked to in the last twenty-four hours of his life.”

“And?”

“The list is actually quite short. Apart from the usual suspects at the company offices, he didn’t meet anyone, and at home that night he didn’t have any visitors. Except…” He winces. “Except for two men.”

“Who?” I’m starting to lose my patience. “Come on.”

“Rook’s father,” Hawk says. “And mine.”

RAYLIN

“He’s right,” I say as Hawk walks out of the room and around the pool, as he lifts the cell to his ear, calling someone. “This is fucked up.”

Storm says nothing. His eyes are bloodshot, his jaw dark with stubble. He looks exhausted.

“I’ll find you some water,” I say. “We need to get those antibiotics and painkillers the doc prescribed for you.”

“Hawk is having them delivered here.”

Oh. Never even imagined that was possible. I’m so out of my depth here it isn’t even funny.

“Good. I…” I get up from the armrest and wipe my hands on my pants. “I’ll go look for food.”

“Just ring the bell.”

“The bell?”

He points at a small device on the table. Small and silver, it has a button on it. “Just press.”

Fine. I press the button and glance around.

Storm snickers. “They are human staff, Ray, not fucking fairies. They need a moment to come over.”

I shrug and smile at him. “Now I’m disappointed.”

Being here is so much fun I almost forget I still have the triad snapping at my heels.

They may not be fairies, but the people working for Hawk are quick. In less than a minute, a tall man in dark pants and a white shirt, with a trimmed beard and mustache, appears at the door and inquires what we need.

Which is yet another question I’m not sure how to answer.

“Er. Food?” I glance at Storm for help. “And water?”

“Of course, ma’am.” The bearded man blinks impassively. “Warm or cold?” At my blank look he elaborates. “The food. Also would it be fingerfood or will you be wanting dinner?”

“We should…” I wave a hand at where Hawk is barely visible by the pool, bathed in blue light. “We should ask him.”

“We’ll have Hawk’s favorite,” Storm says. “That seafood pasta with the white sauce.”

“Of course, sir. Wine?”

“Yes. But we’ll eat here. And bring the medicine when it arrives, too.”

“Yes, sir. Will that be all?”

Storm nods, and the man leaves.

I’m still standing there, my mouth hanging open. So this is how it’s done, huh. Just ask for whatever you like.

“You okay?” Storm is giving me a worried look.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“I bet.”

“You will.”

“Not likely.”

“Come back here.”

And I do without hesitation. I kneel between his legs and put my hands on his thick thighs, mindful of the bandaged wound. “What?”

This I could get used to. Being with him. Having him look at me like I’m something precious and beautiful.

His hand lifts to my face, strokes my cheek. “I love you, Raylin. More than anything.”

“And I love you.” I swallow past the knot in my throat. God, this man… “So much.”

His eyes soften. He lifts my chin. “You will get used to this. Compared to all you’ve been through, this will be a piece of cake.”

I shake my head, not sure what to say. This is getting too Pretty Woman for me, and I should laugh and tell myself it isn’t happening. Protect myself. Put up my walls.

But I don’t. I let myself believe him. I thought his heartbeat couldn’t lie, but I was wrong. It’s the eyes. His eyes that turn a clear blue like a summer sky when he says he loves me.

“Then I guess I will get used to it,” I whisper.

“Beats running for your life.”

“It sure does.” My throat closes. I lean my cheek on his good leg, looking up at him. “Is Hawk okay, you think?”

“No, he’s not. But he’ll have to come to terms with it.”

With the fact his dad is one of the leaders of a shady organization and had a hand in killing not only Storm’s parents and uncle, but in the attempts on Storm’s life, too.

“And you? How are you coping?”

He leans forward, the blue in his eyes glittering dark. “Kiss me, baby.”

His mouth covers mine. His tongue swipes my lips open, and his teeth nip until I let him in. He kisses me hard and rough, a hand cradling my head, dragging me closer. He licks and pleasures my mouth with his tongue until I can’t think straight, until I moan and shift where I’m kneeling.

Satisfied, he finally pulls back, leaving me gasping and aroused.

He runs his thumb over my tingling lip and leans back, smiling. “Now I’m fine.”

Chapter Twenty

STORM

Of course I’m not coping so well. Hawk and Rook’s families are my family, too. We grew up together. My father, Hawk’s father and Rook’s mother are third cousins. I always thought that was why the families were so close.

Now it turns out there might have been other reasons. Like the Organization. Money. Power. And death.

Hawk comes inside at the same time as our dinner and my medicine. He says nothing, and I dig into my pasta. I’m famished. Regretfully I eschew the wine, because of the damn antibiotics. I don’t look up from my plate until I’m stuffed.

“Here.” Raylin puts my pills in my hand and pushes a tall glass full of water toward me.

Hawk lifts a brow at this, obviously expecting me to crack a joke, a “yes, Mom,” or something, but I ignore him.

My brain is shutting down. Here we’re as safe as we can be right now, and I’m warm, fed, and with my girl. What more can a man want?

“Did you call the lawyers?” Hawk asks, shattering my nirvana moment.

“I forgot.” How the fuck could I forget about it?

“You were distracted,” Raylin whispers, and a pretty flush spreads on her face.

Damn if that doesn’t make me grin.

“Get a room, you two,” Hawk mutters and pours himself more wine. He’s just about finished the bottle.

Like I said: I don’t think he’s dealing well with this. Hawk loves his parents. Sure, they aren’t tight, but they do meet for lunch from time to time and he looks up to them.

Or used to, until now.

“Here,” he says, passing me his cell. “The lawyers’ number. Call them now.”

He’s right, I should. So I call them and tell them what I need. They sputter and tell me it’s impossible. I tell them it’s possible. They insist. So do I. They tell me there isn’t enough time.

I go medieval on their ass, threaten to fire them if they don’t get me what I want.

Guess I am a Jordan, after all.

They assure me they’ll have the cash in a briefcase waiting for me tomorrow at midday. I hang up and throw the cell back to Hawk.

“What else do I need to know about tomorrow’s meeting?” Raylin’s head is again resting on my thigh, and I pet her hair. “Who’s gonna be there?”

“Us, and my man, the connection to the triad. You know, you’re lucky it’s the Chinese mafia you’re dealing with. Not as rigid as the Italian or the Russian mafia, not as dependent on the bigger bosses to make decisions.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. She doesn’t have to be there. It’ll be safer—”

“They want her there,” Hawk says quietly. “You, too. They want to see you.”

Jesus Christ. “What? What do they care where the money comes from?”