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“Yes, you do. Think about it.” My arms folded tight over my chest. “Why would I come here and tell you directly? You asked me where Costello was. Remember?”

His eyebrows shifted an inch higher. “He has no idea you’re here, does he? You don’t want him to know.”

Barbs of guilt burrowed deeper in my core. I ignored them, I had to. “He’d never let me do this.”He wouldn’t entertain the idea of me meeting with Darien at all.“But I know it’s the only way. The deal is, you can’t tell Costello. He’ll try to stop me.”

He’ll get himself killed.

For me.

Maverick stood up, and when he did, I locked my knees to keep myself from sprinting away. He extended his palm with its thick fingers that could crush my bones. “You’re interesting,” he said. “I’m sorry you’re caught in the middle of this. I truly am.”

Considering his hand, I grabbed it and squeezed. “Love can be a real bitch.”

He laughed heartily as he shook my fingers; I really did think he would snap my joints, but he let go before it went too far. “Scotch is known to burn. Your parents named you well.”

“Yeah.” I didn’t correct him. I’d never tell this man a thing about my family.

His lips spread into a flat line. “The handoff is tonight, ten o’clock at the Havenport Warehouse in Boston.”

It figured it would be on Darien’s home turf, but so soon? “Tonight?” I asked. “Why so little heads-up?”

“After word got out about the condo attack, the Valentines think we’re all hiding you. They no longer believe I’m trying to work with them to prevent more bloodshed. At this very moment, everyone at my disposal is out desperately searching for you and my son.”

So that’s why this place is so quiet.“Can I ask what your plan was if you couldn’t make the handoff happen?”

He angled his head higher. “War.”

The word came easily, but it filled the room with a heavy weight.War.He didn’t sound afraid. Maverick spoke as if he’d always known a day like this would come. Briefly I stared at him and saw him for what he truly was: a king.

This man and his intensity ... he was why Costello was sohard.

Insect legs crept around my heart. If love was easier, I could have reached inside and torn those itchy bits away from my soul. I could have called Costello, told him my plan, and fought for another way out of this dead end.

I could have done so many other things than shake Maverick’s hand ... turn ... and leave the room.

Love isn’t easy. No matter how much my parents make it look like it is.

As I rounded the corner into the hallway, I felt eyes on me. Peering back, I swear I saw long hair and heels scuttling into the den. Was it the maid, or someone else who had been spying on us?

I didn’t have time to investigate. There was a ton of work to do in only a few hours.

- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE -

COSTELLO

My sister’s car almost vanished in the landscape. Snow coated the white hood, most of it sticking even after I’d been driving it around mindlessly for hours.

That bastard.

Detective Stapler had made his opinion of me clear. He hated me, he hated my family, and that was just fine. I didn’t like him or how he operated, either. The guy had been chasing after my family’s shadows for years.

We had only one thing in common.

Both of us cared for Scotch.

Knotting my eyebrows up so tight it hurt, I remembered how he’d sat me down in Margie’s small kitchen. His words haunted me, clinging like cobwebs.

“Eight years,” he muttered. Margie was gone, we were alone; he lit up a cigarette and I didn’t stop him. “I never got involved. I should have.”