Shameless - Sybil Bartel Page 0,21
him that was dragging me under faster than I could swim.
I’d apologized for kissing him, but I wasn’t sorry, not about the actual kiss. I should’ve been though. He’d quickly become my new obsession, and that kiss was like a taste of forbidden fruit. I only wanted more now, which was why I needed to never kiss him again.
But like an addict, I still wanted some part of him. I wanted to hear his voice. His maddening silence since I’d apologized was singing through my veins like a challenge. Thinking of a hundred different ways to provoke him just to hear his deep, gravelly cadence, I was about to open my mouth when his cell rang.
Picking up his cell, then tossing it right back down like it irritated him to put the smaller phone to his ear, he answered on speaker. “Shade.”
“Security was breached at your place.” André Luna’s voice filled the cabin. “And you’ve got weather coming at you.”
Glancing in the rearview mirrors, Shade took the phone off speaker. “What kind of breach?”
Listening to André, his jaw ticked and his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “You said you were fucking handling it…. No.” His nostrils flared. “I fucking said no. You handle it, or I will. I’m not standing around with my goddamn dick in my hand while the Feds decide whether or not they’re going to pull their heads out of their asses. Tell them to go after her, or I’ll turn around and take care of it myself.”
Alarm spread. “What’s happening?”
With the honeyed glow of the setting sun casting shadows across his features, his sharp gaze cut to me and leveled me with one look.
I shrank in my seat.
“I fucking warned you months ago, Luna,” Shade practically growled into the phone. “Now you say we got a problem because it’s hitting your bottom line? Fuck this noise. If you’re not going to take care of business, I will.”
He hung up and immediately dialed.
A second later, he barked into the phone. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Go back to Miami and take the offer from the Feds that Luna’s offering you. It’s the best goddamn deal you’ll get if you want out from under Antonio.” He paused to listen.
Grinding his jaw, his fingers gripped the steering wheel hard. “I’m going to tell you this one time, Cara. You’re nothing to me. If you want to live, sell it to the Feds. Otherwise, back. The fuck. OFF.” He hung up the burner phone.
“What’s going on?” I didn’t know what the hell just happened, but driving north to some remote location seemed like an even worse idea now.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he bit out.
“No, you’re not getting away with that.” No way. “You’re not letting me go home, you’re not telling me where we’re going, and you say a psycho mafia guy is after me now all because I said my name on your phone call. That isn’t nothing to worry about, and that’s not an acceptable answer.”
Drawing in a deep breath as if he were fighting for patience, he didn’t say anything.
“I asked you a question. You don’t get to sit there and play that silent alpha bullshit with me. You put me in this mess, so you owe me an explanation.”
His eyebrow shot up. “I owe you?”
Pissed and scared enough to dish it right back at him, I didn’t hesitate. “That’s what I fucking said.”
Smirking, he shook his head.
“That’s not an answer,” I snapped.
His gaze cut to me, and he pierced me with a look that was every bit as dominating and controlling as his kiss. “You think you deserve an answer? Is that the same attitude that wound you up in rehab or sold out your stepmother for drugs?”
The blow was worse than if he’d hit me. “Fuck you.”
“Right back at you, princess.”
His phone rang, and he grabbed it, holding it to his ear. “What?… No.” He scanned the rearview and side mirrors. “I fucking said no… Let me be crystal clear. If I see you, I will shoot you.” He hung up.
Panic laced between every nerve, and I lost it. “What the hell is going on?”
“Cara’s aiming for us, her husband’s on her tail, security was breached at my place…” He glanced at me. “And we’re driving into a snowstorm.”
Pissed at Luna, Cara, her piece-of-shit husband, and this whole fucking mess, I lashed out at little Miss Trust Fund. Sparing her a glance, I tossed out a low blow. “You