Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 80139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
This is different.
Cruz is different.
Whatever happened between Cruz and me in Colombia may have been dangerous and reckless, complicated and even terrifying, but it was not fake.
I look past him at the ranch, at the cars parked outside, at the long drive stretching behind him. He came through all that to get here.
Then I look back at his face, his beautiful, mangled face. “You understand what you’re asking me to do.”
A muscle in his cheek twitches. “I’m not asking you for anything.”
“Yes, you are.”
He doesn’t argue.
Good.
“You’re asking me to believe you,” I say. “After everything.”
“I know.”
“You’re asking me to trust a man who worked for Vega.”
“Yes.”
“A man who hurt my brother.”
His face tightens. “Yes.”
“A man who kidnapped me and took me to Colombia.”
His eyes darken, but he doesn’t look away. “Yes.”
I let the silence sit for a second.
Then another.
I sigh. “I should slam this door in your face.”
“You probably should.”
“I should call Hawk back and let him beat the shit out of you.”
He sighs. “I’m sure he’d enjoy that. And though I’m sure I could take him, I wouldn’t fight back.”
“Hawk?” I look him up and down. “Maybe at your best you’d be equally matched, but right now you look like a good Texas wind might blow you out of here.”
His eyes stay on mine. “Robin.”
I hold up one hand. “Don’t.”
Inside the house, I hear muffled voices. Plates. Someone laughing too loudly in the kitchen, probably trying to pretend this family dinner isn’t one doorbell away from becoming another disaster.
Hawk won’t stay away long. Even if he hasn’t said anything, I know Vinnie is probably already suspicious. Falcon may be watching from a window.
My mother is probably wondering if the enchiladas are getting cold.
I draw in a breath. “I’ll give you one chance.”
Cruz nods.
“One,” I repeat.
“Robin—”
“I’m not finished.”
“All right.”
I speak slowly. “If you give me any indication whatsoever that you are still allied with Vega, I’ll kill you myself.”
His eyes flash.
Not with fear.
With something else.
Respect, maybe?
Good.
“And if I can’t do it,” I continue, “I will sic my brothers and my ex-mobster soon-to-be-brother-in-law on you.”
That does it.
Cruz erupts into a grin.
A real grin.
“Why are you smiling?” I demand.
“Because that is the most romantic threat I’ve ever heard.”
I cross my arms. “It wasn’t romantic.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “It sounded romantic.”
“It sounded homicidal.”
Then, before I can decide whether to slap him or laugh, he steps forward slowly enough to give me time to stop him.
I don’t.
He crosses the threshold of the door and takes me into his arms.
I melt into him. He’s warm. Solid. Alive.
“I will do everything I can,” he says, his breath tickling my ear, “to make up for what I’ve done to you. To Eagle. To all of you.”
I close my eyes.
And for the first time since I left the brothel in Colombia, something like peace settles in my chest.
I let myself have five seconds.
Five seconds in his arms.
Five seconds where I don’t think about Eagle’s hospital bed. Don’t think about Vega Senior still out there, or Vega Junior in the ground, or bodies, passports, embassies, blood, lies.
Five seconds where Cruz holds me and I let him.
Then I pull back.
He looks down at me, and the softness in his eyes almost makes me reconsider the whole pulling-away thing.
Almost.
“Don’t look so relieved,” I say.
“I am relieved.”
“This was the easy part.”
He raises a brow. “Was it?”
“Yes.”
“And the hard part?” he asks.
I gesture over my shoulder inside the house. “You’re about to find out.”
I extend my hand.
He looks at it.
Then at me.
I lift my chin. “You won me over. Now you have to do the same with the rest of my family.”
46
CRUZ
Robin’s fingers are warm around mine as she leads me deeper into the Bellamy house. I hold on, knowing this is my second—and last—chance with her.
I won’t waste it.
I’ll earn it if it takes the rest of my life. Her trust. Her respect. Her love, if she ever decides to give it.
Because she looked at everything I’ve done and still decided I was worth one final chance.
One.
I know exactly how much one chance is worth.
The sound reaches me before the room does.
Voices. Plates. Cutlery. The air smells of roasted meat, corn tortillas, chiles, chocolate, cilantro, lime. A home-cooked meal rich enough to make my empty stomach twist.
Then Robin turns the corner, and the room goes silent.
Every face turns toward us.
An icy sea of frowns.
I recognize some of them from files. From surveillance.
Falcon Bellamy stands near the far side of the room, tall and controlled, his eyes going flat the moment they land on me. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t need to. Every inch of him says he knows how to become violence without warning.
Hawk is closer, of course. He must have circled back from the entryway, because he’s already there with his arms crossed, body angled toward Robin, gaze fixed on me like he’s reconsidering his earlier decision not to break my jaw.