“You mean, you didn’t care about the money so much, you signed a contract to make me your little toy project for six months?”

“That was before.”

“Yeah, welcome to the ‘after.’ Sucks to be here, right?”

It wasn’t until we made it to the second floor of the building, standing in front of Gail’s door, that he spoke again. He looked broken, and I hated to see him like that. It made no sense at all. So many people had ruined me—him included—and yet, seeing him suffer, seeing his emerald eyes turning droopy and miserable, made me want to stab my own chest with a fork. What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I let him go the way I had Pam and Darren?

“Emery, Nolan, and Henry are popping in for a vacation,” he said.

My fist hovered over Gail’s door, and I halted. I wanted to push Bane into the hallway and slam the door in his face, but his words made me stop. I swiveled slowly, my mouth curving in disgust.

“How do you know?”

“I have eyes and ears everywhere. Especially when it concerns you.”

“This McMafia stuff is not impressing me, Roman. Sorry to disappoint.”

Plus, I was the one that lured them into town, I thought about adding, but didn’t. I only trusted one person in this operation, and that person was me.

“I’m not trying to control you; I’m trying to fucking save you,” he growled, pushing me against the door with a soft thud. He boxed me in with his arms, his forehead dropping to mine. We were both wet and shivering, our breaths heavy and charged. Our hair stuck together, and I loved that we were yin and yang. Him, blond and whole and hidden by ink. Me, black-haired and broken and clean. He locked my chin between his fingers and tilted my head up. His eyes were hard and soft, honey-edged and flinty green. Cunning, like a snake’s. But the way they looked at me, like I mattered, disarmed me. He pressed his lips to mine, and we stayed like that, in half a kiss, half a breath, for a few seconds before I pulled away and cupped my mouth.

“Don’t touch Emery, Henry, and Nolan,” I said.

“Like fuck I won’t. I’m going to end the bastards,” he snarled. My phone beeped in my hoodie’s pocket. I pulled it out. It was Pam. She was on her tenth text message to me today. We were supposed to have a meeting with Darren’s lawyer about the will. I wanted to drag it out for as long as I could before finally informing her that she was back to being dirt-poor. God bless prenups.

I thought that it was poetic justice that she didn’t get to keep the thing she’d chosen over my happiness and mental health. Money.

I sent the call to voicemail and looked up at him.

“I have a plan,” I said.

“Fill me in.”

I shook my head. “It’s mine.”

He furrowed his brows. “Who the fuck are you, Jesse Carter?”

“I’m the girl I need to be to save myself.”

He clasped my arms in his hands, pinning me to the door. I wanted so badly to forgive him, to fall right into bed with him, to be in his arms. Safe. Sound. Protected. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Bane was capable of giving me all the things the new Jesse needed. I wouldn’t have to work hard for my justice. He would bring the prey to my doorstep, like a loyal, skilled hunter.

But I wanted messy. Bloody. I wanted wonky and imperfect. I wanted to drag them into justice my way, even if it lacked his force and finesse.

I rose on my tiptoes, darting my tongue and licking the outline of his Cupid’s bow lips. He stopped breathing, his eyes hard on mine, so engrossed in the moment he couldn’t even close them to enjoy what I was doing.

“No.” He pulled away.

“No?” I raised an eyebrow.

He shook his head. “You wanna kiss me, you do it fucking right.”

His lips crushed down on mine, and before I knew it, he’d reached down, grabbing the back of my thighs and hoisting me up to wrap my legs around his waist. We were frantic, desperate. He shoved his tongue into my mouth, and I felt like he was filling me with much more than a kiss. With hope and with desire and with the ability to see the world a little brighter. He ground the bulge in his cargo pants against my clit, and I let out a muffled moan. We wrestled against Gail’s door as my hands dug into his shirt and traced his glorious six-pack while he, once again, fucked me with our clothes on. I heard Gail from the other side of the door, about to unlock it and open up, before everything went silent, and she let out a yawn.