25

SLADE

“One of us stays here at all times,” Rocello had told us. “The other two head back to New York and try to figure out a way out of this shitshow.”

I had to admit Rocello’s plan was our best hope.

Although this cabin was about three hours from the city, someone had to watch over Margo. We knew he’d kept this place secret from the family, but the organization was powerful. Someone from the nearby town of Shandaken could give away the location and have Margo executed in a heartbeat. No one was willing to gamble with her life, and that included staying alert.

The man guarding her had to keep his hands off her.

That was a tall ask, though. We were all three attracted to her. What red-blooded man wouldn’t be? I could still feel how her ass had bounced under my palm. How she’d tasted. How she’d writhed around when she came.

So yeah, that was a big ask.

Seeing her lying in bed, arms splayed out sideways, her bare legs exposed, her big breasts stretching that gray t-shirt of hers…

Wow.

Just wow.

I couldn’t stay in the back bedroom for more than thirty seconds or so. The temptation was just too much for me.

“Slade?” I heard her groggy voice behind me, stopping me just two paces from the exit.

“Morning, sunshine.” I kept my gaze forward. “Why don’t you put some clothes on and meet me in the kitchen? I made coffee.”

I didn’t wait for her to respond. I headed out and focused on the coffee pot on the counter, trying to slow my heartbeat. Every time I was within fifteen feet of Margo, my pulse would spike like a fucking war drum.

Sliding a red coffee mug across the table, I saw her shuffling out of the bathroom down the hall. She’d pulled on the black slacks she’d worn for her shift last night.

She yawned, seating herself across from me. “Thanks.”

“Jumaine packed you a suitcase,” I told her. “It’s right next to the couch if you want to change.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You broke into my apartment?”

I couldn’t help grinning at the indignation in her voice. “Isn’t that the least of our crimes… counselor?”

She flushed as I reminded her of our steamy encounter back at my place.

“Don’t start that shit again,” she muttered, all but burying her face in the mug. “You know you could have explained things to me, instead of kidnapping me.”

“And what fun would that have been?” Though things were tense last night, I’d enjoyed tying her hands behind her back. But the glare she gave me now wiped the grin off my face.

“All right, I’ll be good. But time was of the essence. Right now, Roscano thinks we’re dead. He’s an idiot, but it won’t take him long to figure out otherwise. When there’s a price on your head, you don’t hang out and talk things through.”

“You could have asked me to get in the car with you.”

“And would you have?”

She looked away, probably realizing as well as I did that she still would’ve put up a fight.

“What if we’d led with: hey, your dad’s not your dad and you have a half-brother who wants you dead?”

Margo still wouldn’t look at me. “You’ve made your point. But I still think you should’ve handled things differently.”

“We’re not perfect,” I admitted, not that she’d likely thought we were. “We make mistakes—and we don’t want to make one with you. Which is why it would be really nice if you didn’t do anything stupid like try to run off. We’re miles from anywhere.”

She nodded, but I doubted she’d heed my words. I’d have to keep an extra close eye on her, which wasn’t exactly a hardship.

“Anyway, why don’t you get cleaned up and get dressed. We’re going to go on a road trip.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Will I be in the trunk for this one, too?”

I laughed. “Not unless that’s what floats your boat.”

Margo ignored that. “Do I get to know where we’re going?”

“Sure.” I gave her a cheerful smile. “We’re going to pay a visit to dear old fake dad.”

“What?” Her skin paled, but I let my answer stand.

There was no doubt in my mind that everything Margo knew about her father was false. Her only actual blood relative, Nick Roscano, wasn’t going to stop. Even if all else failed, he would come after her. The family fortune was just too important to him. Way more important than his own flesh and blood, if he even considered her that way.

The sooner she accepted that, the safer she’d be.