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That step backward Kane just took doesn’t infuriate me. It destroys me. That fight we had over him walking away to protect me isn’t over, and I’m starting to think it’s one I can’t win.

“So this is how it is between us now, Kane?”

I see understanding flash over his face, and the next thing I know, his hands are firm on my shoulders as he rotates me and plants me against the wall, him in front of me, but he doesn’t exactly cage me. Not if you don’t count his fist planted on the wall on either side of my head, no part of him touching me.

“No to whatever you’re thinking. No . But damn it, Lilah, at any point, any at all, are you going to ask me what I’ve done instead of deciding you already know?” he demands.

“You shut me out. It’s not as if you’ve invited conversation. And at this point, you made a deal with the mob. That’s all I need to know.”

“Is it? Come on, bella. It’s not always that simple, and you know it. You and I, we do what we have to do to survive in a world where most would not. That’s what I did, and damn it, you are the one who lectured me about not letting my father get in my head. You told me to do what I do and take control. I took control. He just doesn’t know it yet, but he damn sure will.”

“And you think getting in bed with the mob was the way to do that?” I challenge. “We’re battling the cartel, the Society, and now the damn mob.”

“We’re not battling any of them. We control them. Through the mob I own my father. Through my father I own the mob. And through you, we’re on our way to the same with the Society.”

“How does this control your father?”

“The mob has rebuilt. They’re well-rooted in every place my father needs to be to make money. My uncle didn’t have the balls to go to war with them. My father does. And the mob hates my father. He’s why they had to rebuild.”

“So you started a war? How do we not get in the middle?”

“I didn’t start a war. I simply told the patriarch of the mob my father is back. They plan to end him before he comes for them.”

“And if they can’t?”

“I will.”

I shake my head. “No. This changes nothing. Again , it leaves you in charge of the cartel.”

“That’s not true. If I kill my father, my role is cemented as his replacement. It’s a claim to leadership, and I swear that bastard is setting me up for that. If the mob kills him and I play savior, staving off a war, it changes the dynamic. Instead of me being forced to take control or watch a battle of the worst human beings I know on this earth battle for control, the mob vows to respect an allegiance to my chosen successor.”

“I really don’t get why this gives you the right to walk away, but it doesn’t matter. The cartel will accept you walking away. You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Because it’s about money?”

“It’s always about money.”

“And you couldn’t tell me any of this before you did it, why? No more secrets. Remember? No. No, apparently you don’t remember at all. Maybe it’s just not in your capacity to tell me before you do things. That’s kind of your MO.” I try to duck under his arm.

He blocks me, using his big body as a wall on either side of me and in front. “Are you really going there, Lilah? Back to that night? Because if you are, we have problems deeper than that grave I dug for your attacker. And it was pretty fucking deep.”

“Don’t turn this on me, Kane. I’ll stand with you in the darkest recesses of Hell, but I want to walk into the fire with you, not get dragged. And I will. You have to know that.”

“What do you think I was doing when I buried that body for you? Sending you to Hell by yourself?”

I breathe out emotions I wish were buried with that body. I don’t know how we got back there now, and suddenly weird feelings and bad memories assail me. “I need space.” I try to move again and shove at his chest. “Get off me.”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“You aren’t saying anything. Not once have you made even a slight attempt to tell me why you shut me out.”

“Your badge.”

“You’re my husband, Kane. They can’t make me speak against you, so just stop already.”

“I can’t stop protecting you. I won’t promise—”

“So now that’s your excuse for keeping secrets? You’re protecting me? Are we really there again?”

“Nothing about what I did today is a secret. I told you.”

“After, and there was a reason for that. You had a plan A and a plan B.”

“You know me like no other human being knows me. Why can’t you just trust that I would do what is right for us, for you? Fuck, Lilah. I was going to tell you. Just not then. I needed—I can’t let him near you, and that’s exactly what happened. And yes, I would have done whatever it took to end this and protect you.”

I can feel myself soften, guilt stabbing at me. “I didn’t marry you because I wanted a protector. That’s not who I am or what I want.”

“I know you like I know my own smell, bella. You know that, right?”

“And your point?”

“Even you need to feel safe,” he says, his hands framing my waist, warmth burning away the icy cold memories of the past. “I shouldn’t have suggested leaving,” he murmurs. “That’s not who we are. That’s not what we do.”

“And yet—”

He cups my face and draws my mouth to his. “Don’t do that. It’s done. I’m sorry. I’m sorry .”

His breath is warm, and my anger has gone cold. “I tried really hard not to need you, you know that?”

“I know, bella. Believe me, I know.” His mouth covers mine, and he still tastes of whiskey and worry, and sometimes, like now, Kane tastes of death. It’s there tonight, the bittersweet promise that he will kill for me, and all I can do is answer with, me too. I will kill for you.

We’re wild, ripping at each other’s clothes, and at least once I almost fall down trying to get my pants off while he holds me up. Finally, he’s buried inside me, my back to the wall and him in front of me, driving into me. The hard surface behind me grinds into my back, but I don’t care if it cuts me and I start bleeding.

I just want more Kane.

At some point, though, I cry out from the pain, which is somehow oh so appropriate for us. Pain that is pleasure. That is me and this man all the way. Apparently, he doesn’t think so, though, and we end up on the floor with me on top of him, a floor just as rough and punishing at his back while I’m just as rough and punishing on top of him.

Sometimes I think pain is what we do best to each other.

Just not today.

When we’ve reached that edge where the wall and floor, and his father and Ghost, don’t matter, where there is only that ultimate moment of us , I collapse over the top of him, panting against his neck. I melt into him, relaxing in a way I can only relax with Kane—his fingers splayed between my shoulder blades. But we have all of thirty seconds before both of our phones start ringing at once.

And for the strangest moment, I’m standing on that beach so many years ago, after my attack, and there is blood in the water. There’s death in the air, and when I push up and stare down at Kane, I see it in his eyes. He feels it, too.