CHAPTER TWELVE

"Well?" Killian probes when I don't say a word.

Slowly, seductively, I turn to him.

Dressed in one of our signature black suits and his dark, penetrating glare, Killian exudes dominance. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, not a strand of hair slipping out of his carefully styled dirty blond hairstyle.

A strange notion hits me. I'm not mad or jealous of him for being with Amara. In a car. By himself.

I'm possessive as fuck when it comes to her. Bradley and the dude from yesterday are a prime example of that. In Killian's case, though, I feel none of that.

He gave her a ride, and I liked it. I offered it to him.

Enough of that sentimental bullshit.

I have to get a good read on him.

I take my time studying his expression. Try to dig some sort of emotion from the carefully constructed wall he wears so well.

He tilts his head. Other than that, he gives me nothing.

Whatever goes on behind that dark gaze is a secret. One I'll have to work hard to unravel.

Gotta love a challenge.

"They left here breathing." I perch my ass on the table. A sinister smirk forms on my lips, my fingers rubbing my knife's handle. "The job is done. They couldn't refuse the solution I offered."

"I see." He looks around me at the crimson blotches on the table. "We need Lauren's team here."

"We do."

My smirk falters. I wish Amara would accept me the way Killian does. I think she will. But the stupid doubts stemming from the stupid feeling eat me the fuck up.

A veil descends over Killian's gaze. If possible, he just turned more unreadable. More guarded.

He won't open up about last night. About what it meant to him. To us.

The room reeks of secrets. Of toxicity. Of desires that have been repressed for far too long.

This game we're playing just got a whole lot more interesting. Because sometimes, pushing means staying silent and watching the madness unfold.

And it does. Ever the sly and elegant, Killian reaches back to shut the door to the conference room.

He takes a step forward, then two.

He doesn't come any closer, though.

I don't move forward. Despite the sexual energy crackling in the air, I won't act on it.

Without Amara here, it's like we're missing a limb.

I'd rather have my dick cut off and fed to the hungry wolves outside these doors than cheat on her. Killian and I won't be touching each other when her pretty face and sassy energy aren't here.

However, we need to talk.

"How's Amara?" I kill two birds with one stone. First, it's a reminder that she'll always be a part of me. Second, I'm directing our conversation to yesterday.

A nuclear bomb goes off behind Killian's eyes. He understands damn well the double meaning.

Or is that something happened to Amara? She looked fine last night. Slept peacefully this morning. Then again, she could've woken up differently. She could've felt the full weight of what went down in her apartment.

While I wasn't there.

While I was here, playing games.

Dammit.

I push off the table, determined to storm past Killian and go to her. To yank her into my arms, steal her away, and let Opal handle the shop today.

I'd hug the trauma out of her. Fuck the trauma out of her.

My pet.

"Easy there." A strong, muscular arm raises horizontally. Killian's bicep collides with my chest.

My head whips to him, my lust gone. There's only anger there.

He's in my way.

"Let me through," I hiss.

Amara isn't his, not the way she's mine. Doesn't matter if she wasn't well, he should've stayed.

I don't tell him any of that. This isn't about us. It's about her. About getting to her.

"I'm going to see her." I shove his arm. He shoves me right back. Dick. My brow furrows as I level him, my gaze murderous. "You didn't have to say it for me to understand she's going through something. I won't let her go through it alone."

"You got it all wrong. She's good," Killian reassures me, and I stop fighting him. "She's strong, but it's more than that. You were there to help when it mattered. You killed him."

When I pull back, our gazes clash. He's had it figured out. Of course, he has.

"Any of our detectives came back with a lead?" Killian's voice is harder than a diamond. Stating a fact that he's had figured out as well.

That part surprises me even less. Killian and I are protective of what's ours. Territorial to a fault. No one fucks with what's ours and gets away.

And Amara is ours.

"I have his name. Charlie Smith. He could be known as Chuck." The name tastes worse than dirt on my tongue. "I have men on it. Texted them as soon as Amara fell asleep last night. They've been to his apartment, and they're digging as much shit as they can on him. So far, they came back with nothing other than he's a nobody."

"Okay." The fact that I'm handling this soothes Killian's rage. Now that it's settled, he looks at the space over my shoulder, jerking his chin. "Let's sit. We have more to discuss."

We won't be discussing last night, that's for goddamn sure. This is business. It's always business.

I move alongside him as we descend to the seats at the other end of the table. Both of us avoid Razor's blood that's dripping from the table to the marble floor. Killian doesn't even scrunch his nose at the smell.

He's used to it. As am I.

"What's up?" I cross my ankle over my knee, steepling my fingers. "Any messes need cleaning up? Now's a good time." My eyes slide to the constant tap, tap, tap of Razor's blood. "I'm on a roll."

"Not done talking about Amara," he says. "Is it possible you've been followed? Have you sensed something? Anything?"

"Let me get this straight." His words strip me of any shred of amusement I may have had left. Indignance simmers beneath my skin. "You're calling me reckless? With Amara's life?"

"No." A simple statement. A Killian sort of statement. "I'm sure you've been discreet. I'm aware of how much you care for her."

Fucking love her. Much like I love you. Two things I'll never admit to, simply because I don't know how.

"You don't need me telling you how vindictive the members here are." Killian drags his chair toward mine, lowering his voice another octave. "We have to get ahead of this. And for that I need you to think."

Out of fucking nowhere, he rests one hand on my knee.

This doesn't happen in our small family of two. We don't do hugs or pats on the back.

I'm a stranger to this type of intimacy. Amara does that, but not Killian. Never him.

The touch takes me by surprise. I stare at where his hand's at. I feel its warmth seeping through my pants.

And I do nothing.

I thought I was ready for this moment. I'm not. I'm not equipped to deal with these fucking feelings. Not halfway prepared for the shot of arousal to my groin.

A groan rises in my throat, and my molars grind to shut the damn thing down. The choked sound and my silence get Killian's attention back to my face and thank fuck for that.

This isn't the time or place for him to see my cock straining in my slacks.

"I have thought this through." Going for the casual look, I shrug. "Nothing. Nothing's felt off. I've been hyper-vigilant the few times we spent the night outside or when I'd visit her at her shop."

"I'm sure you have." He levels me with his penetrating gaze.

That's his love language. Harsh and meaningful deep glares. The people he dislikes—basically everyone other than me and recently Amara—get something else. They get a chilling blank stare.

"Whoever's behind it—if there's someone behind it at all—will pay for what they did."

"That's great, Carter."

His nearness, his hand on my knee, the dark shadows on his jaw… it confuses me.

"No one touches Amara and gets to enjoy another breath," I go for the truth. For words that wouldn't mean something else. "No one."

"I'm proud of you."

Four words. Four words and my mouth clamps shut.

This isn't the first time he's said this to me. After yesterday, though, they hit differently. A whole fucking lot.

My jaw works, and I want to tear his hand off of me. I want to tear it off so I can get on my knees and thank him for his praise.

I'm a dominant through and through, always have been. Never switched. Never considered switching. But I will take Killian's cock up my ass. In my mouth.

When we're together. When he'll be soaked with Amara's arousal. She'll play with me while I suck him off. The perfect little trio.

Time slows as we stare into each other's eyes. His are as firm as the flat line of his lips.

Neither Killian nor I speak. We don't need to. The charged energy in the room does all the talking for us.

He inches closer. I smell the mint on his breath. Every hair of his groomed stubble. Each thick, dark eyelash.

I won't let him kiss me. I won't pull away either. I can't. He pulls me in. Has me in a chokehold.

Move away. Move the fuck away. You have a woman. Remember her? Ama—

"Flower delivery."

What a surprise. A pleasant one. A needed one.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Amara's voice emerges into the room. She doesn't knock. Doesn't have to when the staff told her we're here.

My sweet, naughty girl didn't mention she'd be here early. Probably didn't want any of us joining on her deliveries.

I completely forgot she was supposed to come in today. By the look of shock on Killian's face, so had he.

The three of us are in the same room. With Killian and me hot and ready to fuck. My Amara who wants us—both of us.

Her sweet presence snaps me out of my trance. Stirs my desire to play and wreak havoc.

We're doing this.

This is the time.

Right here. Right now.

She doesn't notice me holding Killian's hand. Her entire focus is fixed on my face. Only me. For the time being. Soon enough, I'll have to share her.

Happily, when the man who'll learn to love her is Killian.

A smile splits her cheeks in half when I fix her with one of my depraved stares. "Hey, muffin."

"Hey, A." My eyes betray nothing as I wait for her to look around the room. I already have my excuse ready for the blood. One of the cleaning crew stumbled on her heels and hit her head.

Easy.

"Don't worry, Carter, I brought the wagon you got me." She still has her entire focus locked on my face. "I'm not carrying anything heavy."

"Good girl."

Killian moves to rip his hand from its place on my knee. I'm faster, slamming my hand on top of his.

While Amara repeats that I don't need to freak out, I cut my eyes to Killian. I arch a challenging eyebrow, squeezing his hand tighter. His expression turns murderous.

I smile back, pleased as fuck.

A minute goes by before silence takes over the room.

I return my gaze to Amara. Her hand drops from the wagon's handle. Her brown eyes swirl with desire and doubt. They dart between us, suddenly realizing what she's stepped into. How our world will change once she closes the distance between us.

With so many questions. Ones I'm eager to answer.

"Shut the door behind you," I instruct her, and she does. "Good girl."

Killian says nothing. It won't be long before he does. Until then, I'm running this show.

"Pet, come here, baby."

Her jaw slacks. Her body stills.

It's a mess. And I've never felt more alive than I do at this moment.