Page 147 of Caution to the Wind

In our world, three strikes were two too many.

So, Zeus called the meetin’, and we’d gone back to the garage where the prospects assembled a makeshift war table, and we’d bent heads with White Snake to plan the ultimate revenge against Kasper Kuan.

The whole time there’d been something buzzin’ under my skin. This awareness of Mei that transmuted the physical space between us. There was a Chinese concept of the red thread of fate, a string that connected souls that was unbreakable, one that could stretch through time and distance without falterin’. It was hard not to apply the theory to my relationship with Mei when I’d felt linked to her inextricably, undefinably for years, even after an eight-year separation. I’d never healed around the wound of her absence, I realized now that she was back in my life and lodged under my ribs like a second heart. I’d just learned to breathe through the pain. I hadn’t been in love with her before, but there’d been somethin’ there and I could see that now. This awareness like the thread between us was just beginnin’ to take shape.

When I pulled her into my lap to pore over the plan, she hadn’t protested. No, not my Rocky. She’d thrown herself into the strategizin’ likeHua Mulan, like she’d been born to the seedy underbelly of this world, like she thrived in this darkness as much as me.

We didn’t speak on the drive back to the house in the club’s unmarked SUV, the bodies wrapped neatly in the back for us to dispose of. With the Seven Song triad lookin’ at land beside Angelwood Farm, we didn’t want to take the risk of buryin’ the bodies on the property, so we were doin’ it like the Vegas mob used to. Rowin’ them to the middle of the deep waters in Lake Mead to drop them, laden with stones, to the murky depths. Priest’d offered to come with me, but Mei had assured him a little too happily that she’d be there to help with the cleanup.

There was only the not-quite-silence of the night-filled forest around us, the rustle of creatures just as nocturnal as we were navigatin’ the underbrush. The sharp scent of pine and sap cut by the cool dampness of lake water. The gentle slap of the oars as I churned them through the smooth surface to propel us forward.

It should have been peaceful, and in some ways, it was. For the first time in my life, I was close to wipin’ the slate clean. Collectin’ answers and dolin’ out punishments.

But a deeper part of me was vibratin’ like a struck tunin’ fork waitin’ for somethin’ to join me in harmony.

I stopped rowin’, and Mei immediately went to work as if this wasn’t her first time disposin’ of bodies. Maybe it wasn’t. There were still so many questions to fill the gaps of our eight-year estrangement, but for the first time since she’d arrived, I was excited to ask them.

I let myself watch her for a few moments, her efficient movements as she worked methodically to heft one body up onto the side lip of the boat without rockin’ it and then another on the other side to balance the weight. She was still in that black leather bodysuit, the supple fabric outlinin’ every smooth curve and slight dip of her form in the bright moonlight. Her ethereal beauty was enhanced by the silver beams and oddly, magnificently highlighted by the macabre nature of her task. She looked like an angel of death, something dangerous and capable, someone whose very kiss might be lethal.

And it was.

Lethal to my willpower.

Destructive to every single wall I’d constructed around my heart over the hard years of my life.

I wanted her to burn me down to ash and raise me up like a phoenix, reborn in the fires of her all-consumin’ love.

It was reckless to be loved like that and love like that in return.

And I’d made myself into a calculated man. One based in the head, not the heart or the gut. But for once in my life, I wanted to take a risk formyself. I wanted to be selfish and fuck the consequences.

I wanted Mei, and I didn’t care about anythin’ else.

She didn’t say a word as I sat there in silence without helpin’ her. There was a loud splash as she tipped first one body and then another into the ink-dark lake.

She smiled slightly as she worked, enjoyin’ this task, maybe, or bein’ in on it with me. It occurred to me this scene was like somethin’ outta her books—Rocky and her Off-White Knight cleanin’ up a crime scene.

“Rocky,” I said finally, and the word sounded scraped out of my throat, dredged up hard from the pit of my stomach.

It lay bloody and raw between us.

She stilled on her knees in the belly of the boat and braced her hands slowly on the rails like she was bein’ rocked by more than the gentle waves.

“You put yourself in danger tonight,” I said, and it wasn’t a good start. I watched her face get tight, the stubbornness comin’ out in the jut of that little chin. “Throwin’ yourself at the car. You put yourself in danger thirteen years ago to try to save Kate. You did it a-fuckin’-gain eight years ago dealin’ for the Centre Street Crowd to try to get answers for why Kate died and then to try to save me from a fate Rooster and Kasper Kuan tried to pin me to.”

“I’d do it again,” she snapped, defensive and righteous. “And it’s about more than just trying to right the wrongs I made with you.”

“You don’t have to right shit,” I argued. “You explained your reasons for bein’ gone.”

She scoffed. “You’re still holding it against me like a knife pressed to my throat.”

I blinked ’cause she was right in a way. I’d been usin’ it to keep her and all those emotions she brought to life in me at bay. If I couldn’t forgive her, I could still give in to this new temptation for her body without puttin’ my heart at risk. I could enjoy havin’ her around without acceptin’ we were somethin’ more than just old friends turned enemies now.

We were, and always had been, somethin’ more.

Partners in crime, at the very least.

And we could be more, I thought, if I had the balls to risk it all on Mei one more time.