“Look at me,” Wolfe snapped my attention forward. “I’ll try my best to keep Lyla alive. But right now, our key priority is getting Daph on that plane to Maine. That picture is shit. No database is pulling a face from it, and once Lyla goes public, there’s no reason for them to suspect her. We’ll let Karsten think he’s wonand keep the contract active until we can move the pieces on the board and find leverage.What time is it?”
“Nearly two,” I answered coolly, searching the starless sky for I don’t know what.
The problem with Wolfe’s plan was that I didn’t give a shit about the club. Sure, I loved these guys, but I loved Daphne more. That was final. Absolute. So, whether this ended with Wolfe’s plan or me with my hands around Karsten’s throat, I didn’t care who, or what, or how. I only cared about her.
“Look, Threx, worst-case scenario, this blows up, and we call war.”
“Really, Wolfe?” I gestured for Nathem when Rinley showed up with the rest of the scrapers to make this night disappear, then stalked toward the car. “You think that’s the worst thing that could happen?”
He swallowed.
Of all the men I knew, Wolfe understood that being dead was nowhere near as painful as wishing you were.
The silence spread between us, but I refused to let it linger. Daphne was about to get everything she’d ever wanted, and somewhere deep inside me, I knew we would burn. Because I was done fighting to be the man she needed if the monster kept her alive.
“Let’s go,” Wolfe said, rolling down the window. “We need to get to the airport because the only way this plan works is if Daphne gets on the damn plane. And you and I both know that is not happening without you.”
thirteen
Daphne: Panic Attacks
The red clock ticked, filtering through the sonic waste of human chatter and feet moving forward in a straight line. I eyed them as they passed, ignoring the strange looks as they inched closer to the point of no return. My knees folded at the crease, tingling at the possibility of leaving without him.
I hunched over, trying to breathe.
You will not have a panic attack, I mumbled to myself, just as the words dragged down my sternum. Everything burned, making my stomach churn.
I filled my cheeks with air, closing my eyes to fight the spiral.
You will not have a panic attack.
“Are you okay?” someone asked, stepping over me but not waiting for an answer. I stumbled back until the sting of the rope corralling us pressed into my spine.
I did not need this. I was a damn good midwife, and Maine didn’t close any doors for me. If I wanted to go to Canada, I would find my way there when I was ready, when there was more time to process.
You’re in control, I told myself.You get to decide.This is a choice, and I choose…
My chest constricted when two sharp bolts of lightning struck dead center.
I choose…
I keeled over, the weight of everything bearingdown…down…down.
“Nope. Not like this.” A blanket of winter fell from above and hauled me upright.
Thay.
I turned, crawling into him until my legs locked tight around his hips when he lifted me into the air in a weighted hug that made my heart work.
I buried my face in his nape, pressing my nose into his scent.
“Daphne,” he whispered into my ear, trailing his bare hands up my spine in a way I’d never felt before, and heat immediately swept into my belly.
“Please take me home,” I mouthed into his neck, but he only inched forward, claiming my place in line.
“I taught you how to swim. How to use chopsticks. How to ride a bike. And now,” his fingers splayed under my shirt, moving in slow, attentive circles against my lower back, “I am going to teach you how to fly.”
But I did not want to fly. I wanted to crawl back into his bed, wrap my legs around his naked hips, and fall for fucking ever.