“Raide,” I whisper.

“Come away with me.”

“Raide.”

“Give me one fuckin’ chance, Grace. One. It’s all I’m askin’.”

I close my eyes, and my shoulders sag. I have a few days off. I can do this without harm, right? Maybe if I go away with Raide, he can tell me more about what happened and I might be able to help him. Then, when I bring him in, he might have the chance to be let back out. It’s worth a shot. It’s probably just a poor excuse, but I need him again.

“Okay.”

“Look at me,” he says, lifting my chin. “Stop being so afraid of something you don’t know.”

But I do know it. He just doesn’t know that.

“I have a few days off,” I say, ignoring his words.

“Good, then go inside and pack a bag.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“It’s a surprise.”

With a nod, I turn and walk inside the house. He follows me and I see his eyes scanning the area as we make our way past my small kitchen and into the hallway leading to my bedroom. “Nice place,” he says, his voice husky and low.

“Thanks, it’s not much to anyone else, but I’ve worked hard for it, and it’s mine, so I cherish it.”

“Understand that,” he mumbles. “Aren’t your parents stayin’?”

I flinch. Shit. I didn’t even think of that.

“Ah, they changed their mind at the last minute. Dad got sick.”

“Right, that sucks.”

Oh, thank God he bought it.

When I reach my bedroom, I fling the door open and step in. I pull out a bag and start stuffing clothes into it. I’m midway through when I feel his finger slide down the back of my neck. I shiver and close my eyes. It’s been a terrible few days and I’ve longed for his touch more than I’m willing to admit. So I just stand there, taking in every amazing second that his finger slides over my skin.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice throaty and dripping with masculinity.

Beautiful.

It’s been so long since someone looked at me like that.

“Raide,” I breathe.

He silences me by pressing his lips to the side of my neck. I let my eyes flutter closed as my body sinks back into his. His arm wraps around my middle and we stand there like that for a good long time, his arms around me, his lips on my neck. I sigh and turn my face, capturing his lips with mine. He doesn’t waste any time spinning me around and kissing me softly, all lips and no tongue. Meaningful. Beautiful.

When we pull back, I feel it for the first time. A connection that goes deeper than my job, than his revenge, than the game we’ve been playing. Raide and I connect—for what reason I don’t know, but it’s real and it’s intense. He’s made me feel things in a short time that I’ve struggled to feel my entire life. He makes everything seem … easier. Even in our complicated situation, he makes being around him feel effortless.

“Pack some walking shoes,” he says before running his lips over mine again.

I pack two pairs.

Then we get into my car and hit the road.

Chapter Sixteen

The highway is long, stretching out across gorgeous terrain. I lean back in my seat, foot up near the window, long hair free and blowing in the breeze. The top is down, my sunglasses are on, and we’re cruising as if we’ve never had a care in the world. As if our lives aren’t a mess. Raide looks at me every now and then, and one corner of his lips tips up in acknowledgment of my presence. That’s a nice feeling.

“Tell me something about yourself, Raide,” I ask, shifting in my seat.

“What do you want to know?”

It’s a risk, but I say softly. “Tell me about your sister.”

I expect him to flinch or harden, but he doesn’t. He smiles, and it melts my heart because it’s full of love. “She was crazy,” he begins. “Always getting into trouble. When we were put in a foster home, I was constantly on her back, chasing her all over the place because she was causing a ruckus. She had so much personality, enough for the both of us and more. She was always smiling, always fuckin’ happy.”

My smile gets bigger.

“Even though she was a brat, she had something going for her. She was smart as hell and she loved to write. At night, no matter what home we were thrown into, she would pull out an old pen and paper, and she’d write stories. She had so many of them, and all of them were good. She used to tell me when she got old enough to live on her own, she’d become an author and change everything for herself.”

His face drops.

“Then she met him.”

“What happened?” I ask softly.

“I knew right off the mark he was no good. They met at a club one night and he wooed her, swept her off her feet. She was pretty, fuckin’ sweet, and totally crazy. He liked what she gave, so he came back for more. They moved in together after two months, and I knew when shit started to go bad because she became withdrawn. She stopped writing. Stopped talking to me. Stopped trying to save herself.”

“I’m so sorry, Raide.”

“Should have done something,” he says, and I can see his fingers tightening around the wheel. “Should have pulled her away, made her stop, taken her as far away as I could.”

“Honey,” I say softly, “it wasn’t up to you to be her dad.”

“I was all she had, Grace. The only fuckin’ thing in her life she had that was stable. I might not have been her dad, but I was her protector, all the same. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t interfere. Then she called me that night, hysterical. She told me he had lost it, and that he’d hit her. I got in my car and sped over there, but by the time I got there she was gone. He was just standing there, staring at her like he’d done nothing wrong.”

I flinch.

“He looked up at me and grinned. He knew, he fuckin’ knew what she meant to me. I saw red, lost it. He was on the ground in front of me before I even realized what I’d done. He was beaten, and I had the damned knife in my hand. I guess the neighbors must have heard all the noise and reported it. The cops show, he starts screaming like a girl, sobbing and crying, actually looking like he was terrified.”

“God, Raide, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs. “Justice will come to him.”

“In the right way, though—”

His jaw tics. “He killed my sister, Grace.”

“And if you kill him, you’ll go to prison for life. Is it worth that? Is that what she’d want for you?”

“Is she around to tell me what she fuckin’ wants?” he barks.

I stop talking. Right now is clearly not the time to lecture him about not killing the man who took his only family away. I can’t even begin to understand what he’s going through. He’s lived through a nightmare no one understands. My family might drive me crazy, but if they were ever taken away from me, it would destroy everything. His sister was the only person he had. I can’t pretend to understand his pain.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He clenches his jaw, then his shoulders slowly relax. “Not your fault, Gracie. I’m sorry.”