Chapter Seventeen

"Italked to Tahani today," Mila says softly as we cuddle on the couch after lunch. She has her face buried in my throat, her words muffled. I hear the worry in them anyway.

Her fear is the same as the one that"s been knocking around in my skull for the last few days. I have no fucking clue what I"m going to tell Tahani about us. All I know is the thought of losing either my daughter or the woman currently in my arms makes my chest ache. I"ve never wanted much before, but I want this to work out with an intensity that"s foreign to me.

"She"s worried about you," Mila continues when I don"t say anything. "She knows something"s going on."

"I know," I mumble, little pinpricks of guilt prodding at me. I maneuver us around until we"re both sitting up, Mila"s legs spread around my hips. I tip her face up to mine, studying her expression. She looks as guilty as she sounds, and I hate that. She has nothing to feel guilty about. This is on me, not her.

"You haven"t done anything wrong," I tell her when her worried eyes meet mine.

"I"m lying to her," she whispers sadly. "Every time I talk to her, I lie."

Fuck.

I close my eyes, resting my forehead against hers. "I"ll talk to her, baby. It"s my responsibility to tell her what"s going on with us. I should have told her already."

"What if she hates me?" Mila whispers.

Her voice sounds so small, it fucking kills me. It kills me even more when I can"t promise her that Tahani won"t be upset about this. I know my daughter. She"s going to be pissed when she finds out that I"m in love with her best friend. I just pray to God that she"s mad at me for it and not at Mila.

Mila may have been brave enough to speak up and tell me she wanted me, but I think I would have taken her anyway. This thing was bound to happen between us sooner or later. Since the day I met her, we"ve been on a collision course, headed for exactly this same ending.

"No one could ever hate you," I tell her, heat in my voice. "She may be pissed, but fucking hell, baby. Tahani loves you like you wouldn"t believe." That"s nothing but the truth. My daughter is so much like me that it scares me sometimes. She"s hell on wheels, constantly up to something. She"s not happy unless she"s doing something. Since the day I finally met her, she"s been like that. But she"s also fiercely protective.I"ve seen my girl upset about a thousand different things over the years, but I"ve only seen her sob once: after Mila told her about her bastard of a father. I was so fucking proud of Hani the day she came to me to ask for help tracking down Mila"s dad so she could kick his ass.

I wanted to help her do it when she told me about the way Mila grew up after her mother died. About how her father neglected and hurt her. Instead, I talked Tahani down and promised to make sure he didn"t get a chance to fuck up Mila"s life anymore. I know exactly where he is. For almost four years, I"ve told myself I only keep tabs on him for Tahani"s sake, but that"s a lie. I"ve kept tabs on him for Mila. Because the thought of that son of a bitch hurting her anymore pisses me off.

"The day you told Tahani about your father, she came to me," I say, sliding one hand up her back into her hair. I hold her to me, tucking her face into my neck again while I talk. "She was so pissed at your dad about the way you grew up. I"ve never seen her that upset before." I touch my forehead to hers again. "She may be mad about this, but I promise you, sweetheart, Tahani loves you. She could never hate you."

"Okay," she whispers, the word little more than a trembling sigh.

I tip her face up and press my lips to hers, kissing her hard. She kisses me back, slipping her tongue into my mouth. With a soft curse, I tilt her head, using the hand I have tangled in her hair to move her where I want her. We make out until we"re both panting for breath, and I"m hard again, and then I break away.

"I didn"t know she told you about my dad," Mila says a few minutes later, curling up in my lap.

I run my hands up and down her back, being careful to avoid the bruises across her upper back and ribcage. I fucking hate the fact that they"re there. Her entire upper back is black and blue.

Aside from bitching about not getting orgasms and about me hovering, which I have been doing, she hasn"t really complained once. She just keeps moving forward, refusing to let anything slow her down. I admire the hell out of her strength. More than she knows.

"She did," I confirm. "Do you ever talk to him?"

"Nope."

"Jesus. I"m sorry." I press a kiss to her crown, hating that her father is a piece of shit. She deserves more than that. A hell of a lot more.

"I"m not," she says, her voice soft. "My life is better without him in it. I used to wish that wasn"t true, but I don"t anymore."

"Why not?" I can"t imagine not being in Tahani"s life. Being a dad…fuck, I never knew I wanted that until I found out I had a kid. The minute I met Tahani, everything changed. She"s a piece of me. I wouldn"t change being her father for anything. I can"t imagine just walking away from her. I can"t wrap my mind around the fact that Mila"s father could just allow her to walk out of his life. How do you know someone like Mila and let her go? It makes no sense to me.

"The day I moved out, I asked him why he never wanted me after my mom died. He said that looking at me and wishing it had been me instead of her hurt." Her voice shakes a little, and I know that shit still hurts her, a whole hell of a lot worse than saying it hurt him. Even if she doesn"t want to admit it, him saying that shit to her broke her heart.

I want to kill him for that. The urge to wrap my hands around his throat and choke the life out of him rises hot and fast, ripping through me like a tidal wave. I take deep breaths in and out, trying to keep her from seeing what her confession does to me. I"ve killed before because I had to, because that"s what was required of me, but her father? I"d enjoy taking his miserable fucking life. He doesn"t deserve to live in the same world with her.

"He isn"t worth it," she whispers, and I know she"s guessed exactly how I feel.

Somehow, she always fucking knows how I feel.

I don"t believe in soulmates or destiny or any of that bullshit, but sometimes, with Mila, I can"t help but wonder if maybe there"s a little of something bigger than the two of us at play between us. We"ve circled in each other"s orbit for so long that we share the same field of gravity. Crashing into one another was inevitable. Consuming one another was always meant to happen.

My arms tighten around her until I"m holding her as tightly as I can, breathing in her sweet scent. It"s peaches and sunshine and everything that"s right in my world.

"Your father was a fucking idiot," I tell her eventually, sweeping her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes. So she can see mine and know that I mean every word I"m about to say to her. "He had something precious when he had you, and he was too fucking blind to cherish you when he had the chance. I cherish you, though, baby. I don"t know what I did to deserve you, but I"m fucking grateful you gave me a chance anyway. You"re extraordinary. Don"t ever question your worth, not because of him. Not because of anyone."

"Okay," she says sweetly, her expression soft. Any lingering sadness over her father is gone, washed away by the sincerity still burning in my throat.

"Loving you is terrifying," I mutter when she kisses my cheek. "I"m so fucking afraid I"m going to mess it up and lose you. I"ve never wanted to feel this way about anyone, but now that I have?" I shake my head, at a loss for words. "I"d fucking kill to keep it, Mila. To keep you."

"I feel the same way. I"ve never felt like this before, Roman. Sometimes, it"s too much. When you"re inside me, when you"re fucking me, I feel like loving you is going to rip me apart. I"m going to come for you one day, and I"m just going to float away." She laughs softly. "It"s terrifying and addicting at the same damn time."

"I won"t let you float away," I promise, smiling. She"s so fucking cute. Christ, she kills me. I think I love hearing her talk about fucking me in that sweet voice almost as much as I love hearing her cry out my name. She has the mouth of a sailor sometimes, and I can"t get enough of it.

"I don"t think I"d mind floating away."

"Yeah?"

"I love the way you fuck me, Roman. You"re like a force of nature." She laughs again, wriggling her sexy little ass in my lap.

"Mila," I warn her, stilling her with my hands on her hips. A warning growl rumbles in my throat.

"Oh, simmer down," she grumbles, her tone laced with amusement. She"s teasing me again, and she"s doing it intentionally. "I already know you aren"t going to fuck me. I"m injured. Blah, blah, blah." She waves her hand in the air dismissively. "I know the rules, Mr. Gregory."

Fuck. Why does her calling me that turn me on so goddamn much? It"s honestly a little fucked up how hot I find it when she calls me Mr. Gregory. I don"t even know why it makes me hard, but it does.

I think she knows it, too. She grinds her ass against my erection, moaning loudly.

"Mila," I warn again.

She ignores me because of-fucking-course she does. One hand slides up my chest. The other curls around my bicep. She grinds against me again, wriggling until the bulge in my jeans bumps against her clit with every move she makes.

I grit my teeth and clench my hands around her hips, fighting for the willpower to tell her no again.

"I"ll make it good for you, Mr. Gregory," she teases me, breathing heavily. "I promise I will."

"Fuck," I growl, bucking my hips. I tip her head back and bite her lip hard, punishing her for fucking with me. She"s always pushing me, trying to make me lose control. "You"re a pain in the ass, Mila. I swear to fucking Christ…"

"You love it," she moans when I pull her shirt up, exposing her tits.

She"s right. I do love it.

Istare down at the phone in my hand, using one finger to flick back and forth between the home screen and the dial pad, trying to convince myself to hit the button to call Brady. I"ve been putting it off for days, for a lot of reasons I"m still trying to work through. Like Mila. Now that she"s mine, I get why Brady brought Carla and Andres into our way of life. But now that she"s mine, I"m even more pissed that he put them in harm"s way. I can"t imagine ever fucking slipping up when it could cost me my daughter or the woman who"s quickly becoming a vital part of my world.

"Just call him already," Mila says, running one hand through my hair.

I glance over my shoulder to find her sitting up in the bed behind me. She"s completely naked, her hair as wild as ever. Her skin glows in the dim light emanating from the lamp. I don"t think I"ll ever get used to the warm feeling that spreads out from my chest when I see her looking so soft and sweet.

She gives me a small smile and nods at the phone. "You can"t avoid him forever," she tells me.

She"s right. Still….

"I didn"t mean to wake you up," I mutter, stalling.

She runs her fingers through my hair again. "I wasn"t asleep. I was thinking."

"About what?"

"You." She smiles again, her eyes lighting up in the dim room.

Christ, she"s sweet.

"I haven"t talked to him since it happened."

"You"re still mad at him," she guesses.

I nod.

"So tell him that." She scoots forward until she"s right up against me, pressing her tits into my back. Her lips ghost across the tattoo on my upper back as she lays her head on my shoulder, hugging me from behind. "Tell him that he"s an asshole. Tell him you want to kick his ass. Tell him whatever you need to tell him. Just call him, Roman. You"ve been putting it off for long enough already."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do," she says, and I feel her shrug against my back.

"How?"

How the fuck does she always know what I"m thinking?

"You aren"t the only one who pays attention," she says after a minute. "I see the way you glance at your phone every time you talk about Brady or mention your job. You"re worried about him."

She"s right about that, too. I"m fucking livid that he missed that son of a bitch tailing him home. I"m furious that he lost his edge and put Carla and Andres in danger. That he put my family in harm"s way…but I"m fucking worried about him too. He"s my brother in everything but name. We"ve been through ten kinds of hell together.

Maybe Mila"s making me soft. Maybe being with her is giving me a new perspective. I don"t fucking know. All I know is that I"m worried about him and where his head is at with all this new shit with Guerrero popping up.

"I"ll call him," I mutter, turning to kiss the side of her head. "You should go back to sleep. It"s still early."

"Will you come back to bed after you talk to him?" she asks, cuddling up on my side of the bed when I stand.

"Yeah, baby."

"Okay." She smiles at me again, burrowing into my pillows.

My cock stirs as I watch her. Even bruised, she"s gorgeous. I"m going to start destroying shit if I can"t get in her again soon. I"ve managed to hold her off the last few days, but I"m not sure how much longer I can manage. With her constantly teasing me, I"m barely hanging on. And she is doing everything she can to make me lose it.

I want in her so fucking badly it hurts, but I don"t know how to be gentle. I don"t know how to be soft when I want her like I do. I want to give her soft and sweet and everything she deserves...but I don"t know how to do that. I lose control every single time I have my hands on her sexy little body.

With those bruises all over her back and down her side, I can"t help but worry I"ll hurt her. Every time I think about finding her at the bottom of the stairs, not moving, it feels like my heart is being squeezed in a vise. I could have lost her, and that fact keeps fucking with my head.

"Love you," she mumbles through a yawn.

My heart fills at her words. That warm feeling in the center of my chest pushes out the worry and fear.

God, who knew love would feel so fucking good? I sure as hell didn"t. I spent so long running from the mere thought of it that I never stopped to consider how goddamn good it could be. I think I was running toward her the entire fucking time, just waiting for the chance to make her mine.

I kiss her softly before slipping from the room to call Brady. Once I"m in the kitchen, it takes another ten minutes to convince myself to make the call. I"m actually nervous.

Brady answers on the third ring. "I didn"t think you"d call," he says immediately.

"I didn"t either," I confess, staring out at the beach. It"s still dark out, barely even four in the morning. The full moon hangs low over the water. Incoming waves reflect it back until the entire ocean looks like a rippling mirror image of the night sky, stretching into forever.

"I fucked up, man," Brady says with a heavy sigh. "I don"t even know what the fuck happened, Roman. I just wanted to get this shit done and over with, and I fucked up. I was so goddamn tired. I didn"t see him tailing me. I didn"t hear him when he came into the house. I didn"t fucking know."

"How are Carla and Andres?" I ask, running a hand through my hair. My chest aches at his words. Finn told me he was fucked up over what happened, but I didn"t know it was this bad. He sounds wrecked, torture evident in his voice. Anything I could say to him seems pointless now. He"s in his own personal hell. I have a feeling what he"s said to himself is punishment enough.

"They"re–" he sighs again. "I don"t know why she didn"t fucking leave me, but she didn"t."

"She loves you."

"Yeah." A thin, bitter laugh cracks down the line. "I"m fucking sorry you had to be the one who killed him, Roman."

"Don"t even go there, brother," I tell him. "It doesn"t fucking matter."

"Doesn"t it?" he asks.

I think about his question for a minute, really fucking think about it. I don"t regret killing the son of a bitch. When I have nightmares over that day, it"s never about Javier Lopez, the cartel member I killed. When I think about pulling the trigger, I don"t feel sympathy or guilt for him. All I feel is relief that Andres is alive, that Carla didn"t have to watch her kid die. That Brady doesn"t have to live with his son"s death on his conscience. So, does it matter?

"No," I mutter. "It doesn"t fucking matter."

"I"m getting out," Brady says. His voice shakes with some powerful emotion I can"t name. "I"m done, man. I can"t do this shit anymore. I don"t fucking want to do it anymore. I turned in my transfer paperwork yesterday. I"ll be off the task force as soon as it"s approved."

I"m not surprised. I think it"s been coming for a while now. Hell, I think it"s been coming since the day he found out Carla was pregnant. His heart isn"t in this shit anymore. I don"t blame him, but I think part of me actually envies him as I stand there, staring out at the ocean.

I"ve never wanted out before. I"ve never even thought about what comes next for me. My entire adult life, I"ve been a cop, living in the midst of gangbangers and cartels and their constant fucked-up wars. I"m good at keeping guns out of their hands, really good at it. It"s what I know. It"s all I fucking know. But when I"m beside Mila, I wonder what the future looks like. Sometimes, I think about being done with this shit, too.

For her, for a future with her, I think I could walk away and be just fucking fine with that choice.

Yeah, she"s making me soft…and I can"t find it in me to regret a second of that.