He’s quiet for a long time. “What about them?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Thank you.”
Levi
“Why are you still with her?” I scowl at Colton, who’s currently putting on a fucking tie for a date with Ellie.
“Because I like her. Because she’s hot and fun. And other reasons.” He tops off his sentence with the mischievous grin my sister Shay calls “panty kryptonite.”
“You’re dating her after we stole from her. That’s asking for trouble.”
“How do you figure? She didn’t even report it.”
I grunt. They were probably stolen before we ever got our hands on them. Nelson probably told her not to report it.
“She doesn’t know. She probably didn’t even notice they were missing. Or, hell, maybe she didn’t know they were in there to begin with.”
I shake my head. We’re supposed to be going straight, but I agreed to do this one last job with Colton. Not our usual work, but the thrill was there all the same. And, fuck, I wanted to help her. But every day she’s with him eats at me. “You can’t stay with her. How are you going to have a real relationship with someone you can’t be honest with?”
He arches a brow and straightens his tie. “Okay, Dr. Phil, thanks for the relationship advice. She’ll never know. And she left the gallery, so it’s not like she’s going to figure it out later.”
I rub my forehead where a headache is building. “I want to be done with that life.”
“Then relax.” He pulls on his suit jacket. “We’re done. It’s over. It never happened.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Is this really about the paintings or is this about you wanting Ellie for yourself?” He cocks his head and studies me. “I see the way you look at her. You’re just waiting for me to get out of the way so you can make your move.”
“Get over yourself.” I can feel the heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. I fucking hate being so transparent.
“You’re worried about Ellie figuring it out and turning us in, but what you should be worried about is my father. He doesn’t like it when I’m not doing his bidding.”
“I know,” I mutter. “I’m plenty worried about that too.”
“Me too. Which is why I’ve been putting together a little insurance portfolio.”
I still. Colton and I have always had an unspoken agreement to stay on Nelson’s good side. “Meaning?”
“Meaning my father thinks he can control everyone. And I’m gathering what I need to turn the tables when the time comes.” He smacks my cheek. “Relax.”
Ellie
Nelson McKinley is sitting in my living room. That alone would be unnerving enough, but the fact that I let myself into my house through my locked front door to find him on my couch makes it worse. Tate used to say most locks provide only the illusion of security. Anyone with the right tools and a little know-how can get around them. Nelson has proven it to be true, and even though it’s the middle of the afternoon and sun is pouring in through the windows, I have chills like he greeted me in the dark.
“What are you doing here?” It’s been two months since I’ve seen him. Two months since Colton stole the paintings for me and since I locked the gallery and never went back.
“How are you, Ellie?” he asks, his eyes skimming me from head to toe. “I told you I’d be in touch. We both needed to cool off after what happened.”
“And I told you I wasn’t going to work for you anymore.”
“Come on.” He stands and strolls toward me, all long limbs and smoky eyes. It’s amazing that he can look so much like Colton and yet everything in his eyes can be so different. Colton has issues, but this man’s need to control everyone around him radiates off him. He grazes his knuckles from the edge of my jaw down my neck, and my stomach heaves. How can I be shaking and paralyzed at the same time? “Sweet Ellie.” I muster the courage to step back, and his hand falls to his side. “Come on, now. Don’t be like that. My son doesn’t have to know a thing. Haven’t you missed me?”
“Not at all.”
“You’ve missed the money.” He sighs. “I have a new job. The client who lost the Discovery collection wasn’t happy with me, but now he’s giving me another chance to prove myself to him.”
“Good luck,” I say, lifting my chin.
“Come on. I need you.” He looks around my modest living room. “You like living like this? Your talents could provide you with so much more.”
“This is my life. It’s small, but I can sleep at night.”
He laughs. “Is that supposed to make me feel bad? Because let me tell you, sweetheart, I don’t. Even your precious Tate believes there’s nothing wrong with taking money from bad men.”
I shrug, but I know the gesture doesn’t come off as carefree when the weight of my fear is pressing down on my shoulders. “No one’s stopping you.”
“But you are. Because I can’t do it without you. Tell me what it’ll take. You want a bigger cut?” He steps toward me again, and I back up until I’m against the wall. He keeps moving closer.
“I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want to be involved.”
“You’re breaking my heart.” Another step. “You’re a beautiful, talented woman who deserves the best the world has to offer. Remember the life you dreamed of once? Pretty things? Fine wine?” He rubs a thumb down my neck and licks his lips. “You still want those things, and I can give them to you.”
“Leave.” My fear is suffocating, stealing my breath and my strength, and I hate myself for this weakness.
“Do you think my son can give you the life you want? With his little hobbies, he’s more likely to pull you back into the gutter where you came from.”
I press my palms against his chest, trying to push him away.
He grabs both wrists and slams my arms into the wall, holding them there. “You pretend you’re this sweet girl, happy to live this simple little life, but I know the truth.”
“You don’t know me at all.” I yank my arms down, trying to pull free, but he holds me tight. “Get away.”
“Get the fuck off her.”
Colton’s standing at the front door, eyes blazing and nostrils flared as he stomps toward his father.
Nelson releases me and backs away. Anyone would, seeing Colton come at them like an angry animal. But it’s too late. Colton swings and connects with Nelson’s jaw, and the man goes down. He’s not a fighter—not like his son.
Colton kicks Nelson and uses his foot to roll him to his back.
Nelson crosses his arms over his face. “Stop. I’ll leave.”
Colton puts a dusty work boot on his father’s neck.
“Get off!” He gasps. “I can’t breathe!”
“Ellie asked you to get away from her and you didn’t seem to understand, so before I take my foot off your windpipe, I’m going to need some assurance that you get it. Got it, Dad? You’re going to stay away from my girl and never touch her again.”
Nelson gasps again. “Okay.”
Colton pulls his foot away. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Nelson jumps to his feet, but instead of rushing out the door, he lunges at his son. Colton’s faster and stronger than him. He grabs Nelson’s arm, twists it behind his back, and pins him against the wall. “You want more, old man?”
“No,” Nelson says between gritted teeth. “I’ll leave.”
Colton loosens his hold as he leads his father to the door, but he doesn’t release him until Nelson’s out the door.
I hear the sound of a car peeling away, but Colton just stands there, his broad shoulders filling the doorway and blocking out the blinding afternoon sun.
“Colt?”
Slowly, he steps into the house and closes the door. Then he sinks to the floor and cradles his head in his hands. “Fuck!” he roars.
“I’m okay,” I whisper. “It’s all right now.”
“Did he hurt you?” His voice is dangerously low, and he’s still not looking at me.
“No. I’m fine. He didn’t . . . You came.” I sink onto the floor beside him. “Colt? Are you okay?”
He squeezes his eyes shut. “He could’ve hurt you. He could have—”