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“I can’t do long-term. You know that. It’s only been a few days. Give her time—women usually run screaming from me to you, remember?”

I make to leave, but Scar’s hand snaps out, gripping my arm with bruising force.

“I don’t think so,” he grinds out. “I’ve seen enough to know she’s got you by the goddamn throat. She’s not about to let go, and you’re too busy enjoying the chokehold to notice it’s deadly.”

An unwilling smirk tugs at my lips as I wrap his words around my hazy mind. “Well . . . what can I say? She’s got one hell of a grip.”

Scar looks ready to throttle me.

“Scar, just let me get her out of harm’s way first, then we’ll face Moscow.”

His voice drops low. “And after Moscow, after Romano dies . . . what if Luna still wants you?”

I hold his gaze, the truth slipping out before I can filter it. “Then I guess she’ll tag along.”

The devastation that crosses his face twists my gut. He looks at me like he’s seeing a stranger—a man who’s replaced the partner he trusted with his life a hundred times over.

“She’s going to get us killed, Cade. You realize that, right?”

I meet his stare. “A lot of things could get us killed.”

“So don’t make me relive this nightmare. It’s like fucking déjà vu.”

“Again. Your mistake was choosing a woman who wanted nothing to do with your life. This is different.”

Hescoffs, “And you think Luna wants a killer? A man who can’t stay in one place?” A bitter laugh escapes him. “She’s a fucking Mafia princess. The novelty of your cock is bound to wear off at some point.”

I shrug, giving him an unguarded smile. “She’s free to walk away whenever.”

He drags his hands through his hair, the frustration evident in every tense line of his body. Scar’s life was burned down by love. And now he thinks I’m walking the same road.

“Pretty, you and I are the only constant in this fucked up business. There’s only so many needy strays I can stomach.”

Needy stray.

I keep my breathing measured. I’ve never lost my temper with Scar ever. But fuck if I don’t want to wrap my hands around his throat right now.

After a long silence, he lets out a tense laugh. “Well,” he mutters, bitterness coloring his tone, “sounds like she’ll need training in the meantime. Tell me, does Luna bring any real skills to the table? Besides her phenomenal throat game, that is?”

I see a flash of red, and my fists clench with the insane need to tear Scar apart. Instead, I stare at the ceiling and mentally count to ten while thinking of all the ways Scar would target Luna if I made him see how much I care.

“Let me see. She doesn’t scare easily.”

The simplicity of my response hangs in the air between us. A few beats later, I see when the tension bleeds out of him.

He believes me.

“First Kat, now Luna. Why don’t we just open a daycare service for killers in training? Assassins R Us has a nice ring to it.”

“Whatever. I’m going back to bed.” Stepping forward, I pull him into a hug. He leans into me, no doubt giving way to our shared history, a bond only death can break.

“You really do suck, Cade,” he mutters into my shoulder.

“I know, Cade,” I retort. “I fucking know.”

I should never have let you live.

Luna is awake when I return—though ‘awake’ barely describes what greets me.