Chapter 124 Chapter One hundred and twenty-three
ARA
The gun peeked out again, but this time our driver reacted faster.
He shoved his partner flat against the seat with one arm and fired with the other. I saw the flash, heard the crack, and then the masked man jerked violently as the bullet tore through his neck.
He collapsed backward, disappearing from view.
“Stupid motherfucker,” our driver muttered, already throwing the car into reverse. The tires screeched as he spun us around and took a different route, cutting through back streets like he’d memorized them in his sleep.
Lenora clung to me, her arms tight around my waist, her cheek pressed protectively against my stomach.
I wrapped one hand around her head without thinking, my other gripping the seat as my heart tried to escape my ribs.
Who would have sent him?
Not Gabe. He was vile and reckless, but not this.
He wanted leverage, not a corpse. He wanted me alive, scared, and compliant.
This was cleaner. And colder. A warning wrapped in gunfire. My thoughts raced, snapping together pieces I didn’t want to see.
Jimmy had motive. Slade Senior had reach. Both had men who never got their hands dirty themselves. Both preferred vessels, people no one would look at twice. Someone ordinary. Someone invisible.
Take the letter for example. Someone who could walk up and drop it there without raising suspicion.
Emily crossed my mind, and I thought about it. She had to know Gabe was playing both sides, sleeping with her while still circling me like a vulture.
What if they’d fallen out? What if betrayal had curdled into desperation?
It wasn’t a stretch to imagine her submitting herself to either Jimmy or Slade Senior. Not out of loyalty, but out of spite. Out of the need to feel chosen by someone powerful after being discarded.
A pawn who believed she was a queen. I couldn't believe she'd once been my best friend. I decided to discard the idea for now.
“Ma’am,” the man seated beside the driver said quietly, cutting through my thoughts. “Mr. Slade has ordered that you be moved to another location.”
I finally looked at him.
“I won’t disclose the destination,” he continued, his voice firm but respectful, “because it appears our communication streams are being monitored and tracked.”
So Thayne was aware of what happened. That knowledge should have comforted me, but instead it twisted something deep in my chest. He was protecting me from the shadows, yet keeping himself firmly inside them.
I nodded, my throat too tight for words. The car sped on, the city blurring past the tinted windows. Every passing street felt like a countdown, every red light a threat.
The first thing I did when we entered the hotel room was ignore Thayne.
He was sitting on the edge of the king bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, watching me like I might disappear if he blinked.
I walked right past him, kicked off my sandals, and dropped onto the mattress without a word.
I was exhausted, of the back-and-forth, of the secrets, of the constant feeling that I was one wrong move away from losing everything.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept more than two hours without waking in a cold sweat. On top of everything that had happened before today, I had to deal with the fact that someone was trying to take me out.
Thayne had moved us into one of the most secure hotels in New York, top-floor suite, private elevator access, new security team on rotation, bulletproof glass, the works.
But he still wouldn’t talk about Gabe’s threats. He still wouldn’t let me call my sisters. Every time I asked, the answer was the same: “Later. When it’s safe.” And I was losing my fucking mind.
Safe. That word was starting to sound like a cage.
“Ara.”
He said my name softly, almost pleading.
I didn’t answer. I pulled a pillow over my head instead.
The mattress dipped. He sat beside me. I felt his hand hover over my back, then drop away like he thought better of it.
I was going to cry. The pregnancy hormones had turned me into a walking waterworks; one kind word, one wrong look, and I’d break. You could take my maternal instincts with Lenora for example.
I wanted him so badly it hurt, I wanted his arms around me, his mouth on mine, his body proving we were still us, but I was too angry, too scared, too tired to reach for him.
He sighed. The sound was heavy, worn.
Then suddenly I was off the bed. He lifted me like I weighed nothing, turning me in the air until I was straddling his lap.
My knees hit the mattress on either side of his hips. His hands clamped around my waist, holding me there.
I tried to push away. He tightened his grip, not hard, but firm enough that I couldn’t move.
“Let me take care of you,” he said, staring at my lips as I licked them. He lifted my chin with one finger, forcing me to meet his eyes.
I glared at him.
“This isn’t healthy for the babies. You’re under serious stress, and I want to help relieve you of it.”
“The only thing I want from you is to be a good husband, Thayne.” My voice broke on the last word. “That’s all. It’s like I’m being manipulated here. You’re treating me like I’m a burden.”
He looked at me for a long moment, then his hands slid under the loose singlet I was wearing, palms cupping my breasts. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, sending a sharp spark of pleasure straight between my legs.
“You think I’m using you like a tool?” he asked quietly, his voice lowering to that dark quality that always sent people running away.
“Yes, Thayne, you are. You’re mani—”
He slid one hand down between us and cupped my pussy through my leggings. The heel of his palm pressed right against my clit, firm and unyielding.
The rest of my words died on a moan.
“I’ll show you how tools are used,” he said fiercely,“Then you can tell me if you feel used.”