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no-brainer.”

“It’s not that simple."

"Make it simple. You can’t do that shit in your own house." I jabbed my finger toward the stairs. “This isn’t just about you.”

“I know. You’re right. I’ll figure it out.”

“Don't you fucking get it? You’re not alone. It’s not for you to figure out on your own. Just don’t take risks, and we’ll get it sorted.”

“I’m just in over my head.”

I slumped back against the railing. “Been there. There’s an answer. And I promise you, it’s not fucking with Blankenship.”

The last thing we needed was that kind of trouble.

East

Later that night at Ben’s we were going through our Theroux options. I kept an eye on Drew, who was sucking back scotch like it was his lifeline. I prayed to God he held it together.

Nyla sat back and crossed her arms. "Fuck me if I ever join a secret society. It's just too much. Is it always like this? Blackmail, thieves coming after you. Why would you even want this?"

Ben shook his head. "None of us did. But we have a job to do. Take down those involved in Toby’s death or covering it up. We have to get rid of Garreth Jameson. Francis Middleton is next. After that, I couldn’t give two fucks about what happens to the Elite. But we need time, so we're going to have to deal with Theroux if he’s trying to take us out."

Bridge leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "Still radio silence?"

Nyla and I exchanged glances, and we both shook our heads. "We still don't know what happened."

"I'm going to check in with my Interpol contacts.” Nyla said. “It's a delicate procedure since I just went back and I’m still on probation. I don't think they've picked him up, because when I last checked the website, he's still on the top ten list. I mean, they could have taken him to a black site, although they generally don't operate that way. He's not dangerous. He's just a thief. He doesn't usually kill anyone, so there would be no reason to take him to a black site unless he stole something he really wasn't supposed to. Something related to espionage. Who knows?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah, stay on that Nyla. Report back when you have something."

"Yup. Can do."

I frowned at that. The way that the team just reinserted her back into a position she never had. As if nothing had happened.

But what if nothing did happen? What if she's telling you the truth?

I didn't want to think about it. Right now, there were too many irons in the fire, and I didn't have time to focus on Nyla Kincade.

The longer I looked at her, her dark hair over her shoulder in a messy braid, the more something so deep pulled at me. She had been mine. The question was, could I let go and trust her again?

But what if she did nothing wrong? What if she was telling the truth and you were wrong? What if you're too late?

I shifted my attention back to the conversation, and Livy was talking. "’Marry a billionaire,’ they said. ‘Everything in your life will be on easy street,’ they said. So much for that. This isn’t an easy street. Is there any way we'll ever return to our normal lives again?"

I winked at her. "I thought you said once that normal was boring."

"Yeah, that was the past me. Past me didn't know that people would be coming for us all the time."

Ben put a hand on her knee. "But we're stronger together. All of us, we watch each other's backs." He turned his attention to Nyla. "That means you, too. As soon as you hear anything about Theroux, let us know. We might be able to leverage him in some way."

"All right,” I said. “It looks like we're about to be in the fight of our lives." But unfortunately, there was no way I was keeping Nyla out of it.

Chapter 16

Nyla

I could feel him watching me. I was sure he didn't think I knew he was there, but how could I not? My body was so attuned to every part of him, his look, his scent. I could feel him following me.

Leaving Olivia and Ben's place was easy. There was a tube station nearby, so I set out walking toward it. I knew I had a shadow from the moment I left the gate. He'd been talking to Bridge, and then suddenly, his voice went silent. But I just kept walking and didn’t turn around once. I was so good. All I had to do was get on the tube and make it home.

Camberwell was my beacon. If I could make it that far, I would be free. I wouldn't have to think about East. I would be well on my way to being cured of my addiction.

The problem with that sort of thinking was that I had no choice in the whole matter, no choice about what my heart wanted or what my body craved. In reality, there was no choosing not to be with him, not to let him touch me. That wasn't a choice that I had, period.

I could choose to pretend that I didn't want him, to pretend that he didn't occupy every single thought that I had. I could put on blinders and pretend that the hole in my heart wasn't there. And most of the time, that choice felt like bloody heaven. But I knew now it was only a panacea. It wasn't real.

Because all it would take was one look, the sound of that low baritone voice, an accidental brush of one of his knuckles across my arm, and I would be right back to wanting and needing and longing for him.

Being with East Hale was a thing you didn’t recover from.

I rode in silence on the tube. I hadn't seen him follow me off the train, or even up the escalator. Maybe I was crazy, and he hadn’t been

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