“Oh, you’re going to get spanked, all right.”

“Ha! We’ll see about that,” I sneer.

“We sure the hell will!”

Ugh. This man infuriates the living shit out of me. I don’t know whether to love him or hate him. Bitch slap him or kiss him. I’m not done with him yet, though. I want him to admit he’s jealous. It may be childish of me to pull it out of him, but I don’t care. I just want to hear him say it. I’ll prod on with my so-called interrogation and then when I’m done, I’ll be dropping a bomb right on top of his head. He’d better be ready for a big explosion if he lies to me.

“So which one is it? Are you mad because I went back out there and asked for some coffee, or are you really mad because they saw my ass?”

His gaze stays glued to my mouth until I climb off of the bed and stand directly in front of him.

“I’m not mad, baby. I just don’t want anyone else to see what’s rightfully mine. Whether you believe me or not, you are mine. There is nothing in this world that will ever change that.”

Cain reaches for my face, his fingers gliding down my cheek. His eyes become soft.

“You have a slight bruise right here from last night.”

I know he’s talking about my run-in with Emerald. I noticed it this morning, too, when I looked in the mirror. I lean into his touch.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m glad. So are we good?”

“We will be if you get me another cup of coffee.”

“That I can do.”

His fingers slide to my throat, down my shoulder and arm until he reaches my hand, and clasps it with his. Even though he didn’t tell me directly he’s jealous, it’s written all over his beautiful face, dark with scruff. I hate to put a spoke in his wheel, but it has to be done.

“By the way, here’s my list for Priscilla.” I hand it to him with a flourish. “I’m a woman who has expensive taste. I hope you don’t mind. If you don’t want to spend the money, I’m sure Manny can go back to my apartment to get some of my stuff, you know,” I add, suddenly feeling guilty.

“He can’t. I would bet anything Kryder knows you’re here. I’m not taking any chances where you’re concerned at all. And as far as the money goes, what I have is yours. It makes me feel good to be able to spend it on you.”

“You know,” I say, twining my fingers around his neck. “You’re not as hard-ass as you think you are.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, pretty lady. I am as hard and as badass as I think I am. Now is there anything else?” he smirks.

His amusement amuses me. The minute my words come out of my mouth it will be gone.

“Tell me what the three of you were talking about when I walked in the kitchen. What are you hiding from me, Cain?”

Chapter Eleven

Cain

“What are you talking about?”

Her face falls. Along with mine.

“I overheard you three in there talking before I came in. Please don’t lie. If it’s something I need to know, or something I can help with, then tell me. Don’t leave me in the dark anymore.”

She looks hurt. Lost. Uncomfortable, even.

“Please, Cain. Let me help.”

I loosen her arms from around my neck and she retreats to the bed. She deserves to know everything. For the first time since the day she left, I feel the pain again. If I tell her, will she hate me? Of course she will. She’s on the good side of the law, while her husband breaks it every time his feet hit the damn ground.

“I’ll tell you the truth, but I need you to promise me you will keep an open mind.”

She looks down to the floor then back up at me again.

“Now you’re scaring me. You’re in some kind of trouble, aren’t you?” she whispers.

Someone has sucky ass timing. My phone rings and I pull it out of my vest pocket. Seeing that it’s Priscilla, I answer.

“Yeah. I got it. I’ll be right out.”

Disconnecting, I shove my phone back in my vest, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Priscilla’s outside. Let me give this to her and I’ll be right back.”

I don’t stick around in the room after that. I need a moment to myself, to decide if I tell her everything or just enough to hope like hell it pacifies her enough so I can get on with my day.

By the time I’m finished giving the list and a wad full of cash to Priscilla, my mind is made up. I need for her to trust me and know I’m serious about the two of us. She’s going to flip her shit when she finds out just how deep I am into being a first class law-breaking criminal.

“Let’s go in the other room and talk. And here, put these on. You’re distracting the hell out of me knowing you have nothing on underneath my t-shirt.”

The air is crackling with a thick cable of tension. I hand her a pair of my shorts. She doesn’t even look at me when she takes them out of my hand. My gut twists in a damn knot so tight, I’m afraid it will never come undone, like a shoelace you can’t seem to undo no matter what, so you cut it. That’s how I feel right now. Like I’m about to cut my own damn heart out.

I stand there and watch her slide my way-too-big-for-her shorts up her long legs, catching a glimpse of her bare pussy when she pulls them up and ties the string.

“I promise I’ll keep an open mind. I’ll do anything to help you.”

Her words startle me. I nod in her direction when she sits on the couch and I head for the chair. I’m in desperate need of a drink. I couldn’t care less what time of the day it is.

“Do you want that cup of coffee?” I ask.

“No. I want you to quit stalling and tell me.”

She looks like she could claw my eyes out. An intimidator. A fucking lawyer. Before I even begin, I know deep in my gut my wife is the one person who just might be able to help me.

“I’m a gun thief, Calla. I steal them and turn around and sell them.”

I watch as shock takes over her body. All the color drains from her face. Her mouth goes slack. She gulps loudly.

“Why? How?”

“Why? I’m damned good at it. The best. And it makes me a shit-ton of fucking money. And the how? I’ve got my ways. Ones I’m willing to share with you if you’ll become my lawyer.”

She looks away from me for a moment, shaking her head sadly.

“How could your life have come to this?”

Disappointment in me is etched across her gorgeous features. I’m sure it matches my own. Every day when I look in the mirror I’m reminded of the failure I’ve become. The woman sitting across from me is the one person I’ve failed the most. I’m not who she thought I was. Or who I wanted to be. I’m a money hungry, blood thirsty criminal. I’m not about to ask her to forgive me. It may not be what I wanted to do growing up, but I enjoy what I do. I shrug internally.

I contemplate my response. I haven’t had to answer to anyone in a long ass time. Calla’s not just anyone; she’s my life. If there is a way out of this without anyone getting hurt, or worse, killed, I will do it. For her.

“I’m my father’s son,” I simply say.

“Yes, you are. That doesn’t mean you had to follow in his footsteps and be like him. What happened to being on the good side of life? God, Cain. Do you sell guns to kids? I mean, who do you sell them to?”

I laugh, even though none of this is funny. She sounds like a lawyer and I’m on trial already. She wants to know it all? I’ll give it to her.

“No, I don’t sell them to kids. What happens after I sell them isn’t my concern, though. I sell them domestically to a few large buyers in New York. I do not sell them out of the country to drug cartels or gangs.”

“How do you get them?”

This is the part that is going to rip her heart out. I look her straight in the eyes when I tell her.

“I steal them.”

I watch her shoulders sag. She leans back on the couch, her head goes to the ceiling where she stares at a particular spot for the longest time.

“You get rid of the serial numbers.”

“Yes.”

“Then you sell them so they can’t be traced.”