of those things. But it’s filled with something else too. Something deeper and stronger than all of those emotions. Something I don’t dare speak out loud yet, although I’m starting to feel it with every fiber of my being.
His hands slide down my body to my hips again, but he holds me gently, tenderly, kissing me slowly and deeply. All the tension and heaviness leaves me with one exhale that he catches between his lips. He pulls me a little closer, and even though we’re not building toward sex, I grind against him as I weave my hands around the back of his neck.
When his hands move down to palm my ass, rocking me harder against him, I know it’s time to stop.
Now isn’t the time for this.
I’m done with holding myself back from what I want, from what feels right.
I’m growing to accept that I have feelings for all four of these men, and that they have feelings for me. But I also know there’s a man being tortured in the basement, and that the two of us need to get back down there and see if Ciro has gotten any more information out of him.
I break away from Hale, and we both groan quietly. His hands linger on my body, fingertips flexing against the flesh of my ass.
“We should probably get back downstairs,” I murmur, dropping my head to inhale the warm skin of his neck. He smells like cloves and masculine musk. Like whiskey and leather. Like Hale.
“Yeah.” He sighs. “We should. Are you ready?”
No.
I’m not ready. I don’t know if I ever will be. But ignoring the truth won’t change it, and the only way we’re all going to get out of this alive is if we arm ourselves with as much knowledge as possible about our new enemy.
Drawing back, I nod. “Yes.”
2
Zaid
We’ve been working on Leland for ten hours now, and even though he’s slowly breaking, I can sense Ciro growing impatient with the fucker. Knowing what Camilla’s capable of gives us all a sense of urgency. And we also know that if Leland is gone for too long without communicating with her, she’ll grow suspicious. Which means we don’t have a lot of time.
It also means we need to be careful not to fuck him up too obviously. Well, not any more than Ciro already has anyway.
My gaze jerks up at the sound of the door opening behind me, followed by Grace and Hale. He leads her in with a brush of his hand against her lower back, and the smallest twinge of jealousy flares inside of me. I push it aside.
I’m actually thankful to see Grace, if thankfulness is even an emotion you can feel in a torture chamber.
When she went upstairs earlier, we all decided to give her a bit of time to work through shit. Didn’t mean I didn’t want to charge up there and demand to know if she was okay, promise to take care of her, and threaten to kill anyone who hurt her—but I knew that wasn’t what she needed. She needed time, and we gave it to her. As much as we could, at least, before none of us could stand it anymore. Hale left the room a little while ago to go check on her.
She looks a little rough around the edges, just like the rest of us, but she walks into the room with a determined expression on her face, and I know she’s worked hard to pull herself together, to function through the shock and pain.
She’s carrying her head high like the badass bitch she is.
“How long have you been working with Camilla?” Ciro asks, taking a step away from Leland.
Tied to the chair, the middle-aged man sucks in a breath, breathing hard. “A couple years,” he says, swallowing. “She had shit on me that could’ve put me in jail for life. Blackmail. She threatened my family. I was only trying to protect my family, she was going to kill them—”
Hale growls, stalking over to Leland. He doesn’t even have to raise a hand and the guy flinches.
I always knew Leland was a fucking pussy.
“You cowardly son of a bitch.” Hale’s lip curls. “You thought that by bending to her will, you wouldn’t end up hurting people? You thought she was only going to ask a small task of you? One little thing and then it would be over, no fucking harm done? You thought you were keeping your family safe?”
We all take a