Murder_ A Sinful Secrets Romance - Ella James Page 0,183

hell. FUCK!”

I hit the wheel so hard it groans and the airbag light starts flashing.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, Dove. Do they think I told her?”

“They don’t know. Your correspondence with both me and Blue is being watched by more than one set of eyes. Blue told me that today. You should answer his calls, you know.”

“Is this why he was coming down this way?”

“He came and left, yes, a little while back. So he could tell anyone who asked that everything seems okay. I reassured him about it, too. So he could tell the G’s team things are safe. Tell me I’m not wrong, Bear.”

He’s not wrong. We’re all still safe.

“I can’t tell her,” I breathe. “I couldn’t. It would— It would…wreck things.” I laugh, desolate as fuck. “Dove.” I yank at my hair.

“It’s okay, dude. We’ve got you. Who would they send? Some contract fucker? Bart or Greene or Whissle from the SEALs?” He laughs. “Who would they send to take you out? That guy—the one who hurt your girl? It wasn’t Blue. It was probably one of them, just trying to sniff shit out and do a little data mining. If you don’t tell her, she’ll be safe. I don’t think the G would take a civvie out for no good reason. This is all just G keeping his asshole baby-fresh clean.”

I snort, even as my tires spin out on the dirt road that leads away from the gun range.

“Think of this, too. They won’t get your lady twice for data mining. That looks weird to the local oinkers.”

“True,” I breathe. “That’s true.”

We spec ops don’t want to draw the eyes of local law folks if we don’t have to. They tried to get information from Gwen once; they won’t try again.

“Blue’s ass is safe,” I say. “I hope the G’s guys know that. You guys fixed it up okay.” My throat tightens. A wave of heat moves through my cheeks, making my eyes feel hot.

“You’re really fucked, you know that?” Dove asks me a second later. He’s using his gentle voice, which alone is scary.

“I know,” I rasp.

“What you gonna do, Bear?”

My eyes blur. I exhale roughly. Inhale. “What can I do?” I manage in a steady-ish voice.

I can’t be honest with her—ever.

“I can’t leave her, Dove. I…can’t.”

“You love her.”

“She’s everything.” Tears drizzle down my cheeks. I don’t bother to wipe them.

“Maybe you could…swear or something. Swear that to the G. Maybe all of us could meet with him or something. Get him settled down. I don’t know. We could fly up for dinner. I’ll be thinking on this, Bear. We’ve got you covered. You can never tell her. That’s the only caveat. You give her everything else, man. Do what you have to do so you’ll be fucking happy. Breck would want that.”

Do what I have to do, but lie. And keep Gwenna in constant intermittent danger. Whenever G starts feeling nervous, or if Blue moves up the ranks and into politics just like his fucking family, I’d be putting her at risk. I would be at risk, and so if she loves me like I love her—and she does; my God, I don’t know why, but she loves me—then I would put her heart at risk.

“Thanks, man.” I get off the phone with Dove, and he says he’ll keep me posted.

I can’t do this. That’s my conscience talking. My heart.

Leave her.

Keep her safe, dumb fuck. She’ll find somebody else.

I pick her up from Helga’s. No one’s on my tail. No one’s on her. Gwenna is quiet as we Christmas shop. She’s soft and warm and quiet, her hand tight in mine. She tells me she loves me more than usual as we buy gifts for all her family. The plan is to spend Christmas at her Mom’s, and then fly out to California to see Kellan and Cleo sometime after.

But I’m not surprised when we get to her house, and she starts on lasagna, and says, “Bear?”

“Yeah?” I kiss her forehead, smiling gently down on her.

“I need to tell you something.”

My gut clenches. “Okay, Pig.”

“I think I want to go to Colorado after Christmas. Maybe you can go to California without me and we could meet up after.”

“Breckenridge?” I ask her.

Her face pales a little. “I do it every year,” she tells me, setting the lid back on the pot.

“You don’t want me with you?”

“Oh, no.” She looks up, her eyes wide and round and…wanting. “That’s not it. I just—”

“You think I’d leave you on your