The word cancer, along with Gallo’s warnings about Kayden being a “kingpin,” axe that idea for me. “Not my thing. Any chance they have Friends reruns?”

“Oh, I love Friends! And they do have it.”

She flips to the show and we alternate talking, watching TV, and playing tic-tac-toe for hours, and still there’s no word from Kayden and Adriel. By ten, Giada’s fallen asleep on the couch, and I’m in a chair next to her scribbling butterflies in my journal when my phone finally rings. Giada jerks to a sitting position as I check the ID.

“Hi, Adriel,” I say, disappointed it’s not Kayden.

“Come to the front door.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Just come downstairs. And bring your coat.”

“Where’s Kayden?”

“Just come downstairs,” he repeats irritably.

“What about Giada? She’s with me.”

“Just you.”

He ends the call and I frown.

“Well?” Giada prods.

I stand. “He wants me downstairs. Just me. Not you.”

“Nothing surprising there,” she quips. “That’s all he said?”

“Yes. That’s it.”

“That’s curious.”

“Yes, it is. I need to grab my coat.”

“I’m going down to talk to my brother.” She rushes away.

Uneasy, I walk to the bedroom and put on a black trench coat that is once again Chanel, which tells me there must be a Chanel store nearby. I pop another pain pill, grab my purse and cross it over my shoulder, and stop in front of the drawer I swore I wouldn’t open. For reasons I can’t explain, I’m nervous with Adriel again.

Where’s Kayden? His absence makes no sense. I’m worried about him. And I’m worried about me, too. I open the drawer and grab the gun, placing it in my purse and heading for the door.

sixteen

Nervous energy shoots adrenaline through me, and I all but run down the stairs to jab at the button to the dungeon door separating me from the main foyer. It opens and I cut under it before it fully rises, to find Adriel waiting for me by the door and Giada nowhere in sight. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s walk and talk.”

I wet my suddenly dry lips, noting he now has on a black jacket, when he’d left without one. He also killed two men less than a week ago. “Walk?” I ask.

“Yes. Walk. Cars are hell to drive in this neighborhood.” He opens the door, motioning for me to exit, and while he seems more agitated than dangerous, at least for the moment, my hand settles on top of my purse for easy access to my gun.

Moving toward him, I cross the length of the foyer and step onto the porch and into a chilly night, uncomfortably aware of Adriel at my back. I scan my surroundings for potential trouble, finding the castle grounds draped in inky blackness, thunder rumbling from a deep hollow in the sky, promising yet another storm. The door shuts and I face Adriel. “Where’s Kayden? Is he still in jail?”

“He’s been out for a couple of hours.”

The news is a blow, since he hasn’t called or taken my calls. “Where is he?”

“Getting wasted in a bar a few blocks from here.” He lifts his chin. “Let’s walk.”

Kayden doesn’t strike me as the “getting wasted” type. “Where?”

“To go get his ass.”

“I don’t think he wants me there.”

“Bullshit. You’re exactly what he wants and needs. Let’s go before he finishes off the bottle of tequila he’s working on.”

He starts down the stairs and I hesitate to follow, but the truth is, he’s baited me with his comments about Kayden needing and wanting me. Praying it’s a good choice, I dart down the steps to catch up to him in the center of the circular driveway. “You don’t even want me here and now I’m suddenly what he needs?”

“What I want and what Kayden wants often don’t align. But he’s The Hawk, and we need him to be strong and focused.”

I’m not sure how I feel about that answer. I’m not sure how Kayden would feel about it, either. “How far away is Kayden?”

“A few blocks,” he says, ending this stretch of our walk at the edge of a stone gate with heavy metal spikes and lights glowing at various spots. He punches in a security code to unseal the entry and faces me. “As for me not wanting you here, I did some thinking about you this afternoon. You’re making him face the demons eating him alive, and in my book, that’s a good thing for us all.”

He doesn’t invite a reply that I don’t plan to offer anyway, motioning me forward. I gladly move outside the property line and away from him, wondering why every action and word from this man’s mouth seems to be framing an agenda that might not be in Kayden’s favor. Is he as angry at Kayden as Giada? Is Kayden too blinded by guilt to see it?

Adriel joins me, shutting the gate behind us, and we begin walking through what appears to be some sort of town square with a giant, stunning church opposite the castle, and a few people milling around here and there. “This way,” he says, and we cut left and onto a lively, extremely narrow cobblestone street, with restaurants framed by cute umbrellas and various shops marked with signs. “It’s busy for a Monday night,” I comment, relieved to be in a public area.

“This area draws the college crowd and tourists. You should see it on the weekend.”

Tourists. Weekends. Small talk. I don’t have it in me. “What happened with Gallo?”

“He accused us of threatening him. Our attorney accused him of harassment, and his excuse for the extra attention was worry for you.”

“So the harassment you mentioned is because of me.”

“You’re just one of many tools in his revenge chest. He’ll use anything against Kayden. He hates him.”

I want to ask for a reason, but I stop myself. Already, Gallo has stolen Kayden’s ability to tell me about what happened five years ago when he was ready. It’s Kayden’s right to tell me this when, and if, he’s ready. Adriel glances at me. “You aren’t going to ask why?”

“No. I’m not. Did Gallo run my prints?”

“He wouldn’t say.”

“That makes me nervous.”

“Matteo handled things. You know that.”

“You sound confident, but Nathan alluded to you two getting arrested to be there when he ran my prints.”

His jaw clenches. “Nathan needs to keep his mouth shut.”

“Is it true? Did you and Kayden get arrested on purpose?”

“Why or how we were arrested doesn’t matter at this point. What does is the end result. We didn’t get charged.”

“That’s good, at least.”

“And Gallo didn’t show his hand.”

“Oh. That’s not good. That sucks.”

“Everything about Gallo sucks,” he replies, drawing us to a halt in front of a door with a huge sign over the top that reads BAR, the sound of muffled music vibrating the walls. “He’s sitting in the back corner at the bar.”

“At a bar in a bar,” I say. “Check. Got it again.”

He waves across the street. “I’ll hang out over there somewhere in case you need an escort back, though I find that doubtful.”

He walks away, crossing the narrow street. I watch him for a few beats, and my unease with him just isn’t going away. Shaking off the thought, I turn to the door and enter the bar, to find a dimly lit room wrapped in brick. On a mission to find Kayden before I chicken out, I weave my way through clusters of tall tables with stools as seats and find him sitting at the bar as expected, with his back to me. I pause and inhale for courage, not sure how he’ll react to me showing up here. I take a step forward but halt as I have the uncomfortable realization that the gorgeous, big-breasted brunette bartender is not only in deep conversation with Kayden, she’s leaning over the counter, and giving him a healthy view of her cleavage.

My stomach knots with the certainty that she is his distraction from me, not a bottle of tequila, and it hurts, when it shouldn’t. We had sex. Just sex. That does not spell exclusivity or commitment. I’m about to turn away when the big-breasted bartender looks up, and for some reason her gaze lands on me. Adrenaline surges through me and I turn to flee, only to have a man step in front of me, momentarily delaying my departure. I cut around him, and manage all of two steps before Kayden grips my arm and whirls me around to face him.