Liar, a voice jabs.
I lead her back into the living room, where Julio is now holding the towels to his own belly. His breathing has become shallow and he has an eerie smile on his face.
“What a pretty dog,” he says, aiming the smile at Poppet. “What’s his name?”
“Her name is Poppet.”
“Poppet,” he smiles. “What a lovely name.”
“Where’s Dom?”
“Gone to get the paramedics,” Julio wheezes. “I hope they can dig this son of a bitch out.”
“You’ll be okay,” I tell him. “Surely you would have—”
I stop myself.
Surely would have bled out by now, that hardly seems the most encouraging thing to say.
The elevator doors beep open and I turn to find Dom leading in four suited men, a stretcher between them. At the rear two paramedics, striding efficiently over to where Julio lies.
I recede into the background, waiting, remembering the way the explosion tore through that alleyway and reverberated through the ground.
Dom walks silently up beside me and smooths his hand down my arm, finding my hand and clutching it, clutching it right there in front of Julio and the men in suits, right here in Dad’s living room. I squeeze onto his hand, not caring about the blood, only the closeness, only us.
Even if everything’s going crazy, this still feels so right.
If Dad was here …
But he’s not. And he’ll have to understand, he has to.
Otherwise—
I can’t bear to think about what will happen if he doesn’t approve.
Soon Julio is on the stretcher and we’re all moving toward the elevator, only going up this time instead of down. I lean down and cradle Poppet’s face, stroking her behind the ears, not sure if I’m trying to comfort her or myself.
Chapter Thirteen
Dom
We all walk onto the roof as the sirens from the street below dimly reach us. The idea of fleeing from these animals doesn’t sit well with me, but it’d be a pointless move – a Patty move – to go down there and get myself riddled with bullets or arrested in the confusion. The best thing I can do is retreat and get ready.
Get ready for war.
The helicopter is a large military-style vehicle, big enough to wheel Julio on his stretcher onto the back as my backup stands in a huddle around it, their hands near their hips as though any moment the Irish could jack-in-the-box onto the roof. I hold Dallas’s suitcase in one bloody hand and then place it next to the chopper. One of the suited men silently picks it up and carries it onboard.
Then I turn to Dallas, her beauty even more evident out in the open air, the sunlight bathing her, the wind messing with her hair, even more, making alluring patterns that even now I want to grab and guide and dominate. She smooths her hair from her face and smiles shakily at me.
“Well,” she says, “this is definitely not how I thought I was going to be spending this afternoon. Have you called Dad and let him know what’s going on?”
“I texted him,” I tell her. “He’s on his way to the same safe house we’re going to.”
A look passes across her eyes, her features distorting for a moment.
Are we going to tell him?
That’s the silent question in her gaze.
I reach forward and take her hand, savoring the warmth of it, unable to stop myself from imagining her under me with that summer dress hiked up around her hips, my manhood driving deep inside of her, claiming every inch of her as my own as my seed fires into her womb, the only fucking place it belongs.
Soon.
If I don’t fuck her soon, I’ll turn full savage, full beast.
I lead her onto the helicopter and we get Poppet strapped in by her harness, using the straps that are usually used for cargo so that she’s completely secure. Dallas checks her harness, making sure she’s not going to be able to wriggle out once the chopper takes off. And then I strap Dallas in, aware that even now my manhood is roaring at me, demanding that I slide my hands up her thick creamy thighs and make her squirt like the sex goddess she is.
“I’ve never been in a helicopter before,” she says, shivering slightly. “I hope I don’t, you know, freak out.”
“You won’t,” I tell her. “You’re strong, Dallas. I saw how you reacted when those bastards tried to kill us with that bomb. You’re made of tough stuff. Don’t ever forget that.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in me,” she murmurs.
The undertone is clear.
A lot of faith in me considering we only just met.
But we both know that’s bullshit because it doesn’t feel like we just met at all.
It feels like everything I’ve ever done has led me to her, as though my life has been a waiting game and now the wait’s finally over.
Soon the chopper blades start cutting the air and Dallas makes a soft sighing noise, a sound that hits me right in my core, that even now – with Julio being attended to mere feet away on the stretcher – makes me want to claim her, every fucking inch.
As the helicopter rises into the air, Dallas whimpers but Poppet grins and lets her tongue hang from her mouth. She looks at Dallas, head tilted, as though wondering why her owner is making such a fuss about this.
“Good girl,” Dallas says through clenched teeth. She laughs shakily. “I mean, hell, she’s always been braver than me.”
I squeeze onto her thigh, trying to keep it a supportive gesture, trying to stop the desire from flaming unstoppably inside of me.
But that’s the thing with unstoppable desire.
It can’t be fucking stopped.
“War,” Gabriel growls later.
We’re sitting in the office of the safe house, located dozens of miles outside of the city in the countryside. The estate is fortified with fifteen-feet-high walls and towers posted on all corners, complete with searchlights and armed guards. The only way in is through the front gate,
