Page 47

Chapter 47

Kabir

I stay close, sheltering Hunter’s back, as we make our way down the dock. They kept her in the hospital for three more nights, which Garrett insisted was typical, given the injuries she experienced and the amount of time she was unconscious. I’m quite glad for the care she received, but I’m ready to get her home.

There was never a question about whether we’d head back to the Crusade Mansion. Though the threat has been eliminated, after Hunter’s ordeal, we need the safety of the familiar place, where we’re surrounded by the people we know we can trust.

The others know what I’m planning to do. They all agreed, albeit some more begrudgingly than others.

As our crew shuffles onto a pontoon ahead of us, I place a hand on Hunter’s shoulder to stop her from following.

“Wait here, love. We’ll get the next one.”

A look of puzzlement overtakes her face, but she doesn’t push back or question me.

Using my newly acquired skills, I prepare the second pontoon. I’m not comfortable enough on the water to commandeer a speed boat just yet. Besides, we’re not in any rush. It’ll take a while to get through what I must explain.

Once we’re on our way, I beckon, and Hunter joins me behind the helm.

She slips into my lap, and I gingerly circle one arm around her from behind, cognizant of her injuries.

“I need to tell you something.”

Sighing, she leans back against me. “Okay.”

Without preamble, I announce, “I killed Magnolia.”

Her posture doesn’t change. Her breath doesn’t catch. All the reactions I expected and have been mentally preparing myself for have amounted to nothing.

Instead, she turns her head slightly and rests her cheek against mine.

“I figured,” she eventually admits. She laces her fingers with the hand I have splayed gently across her lower abdomen and brings the other to my jaw, holding my face steady as she nuzzles deeper into me.

She’s pouring love into me. It’s palpable. I can practically taste the gratitude she wants to express when she presses her lips chastely to mine.

Her reaction is so eerily calm I worry perhaps the implications haven’t clicked with her.

She stills, pulling back and searching my face.

“I just confessed to an egregious act against humanity—to an outright crime in most developed nations. Talk to me, love. How does that make you feel?”

Hunter erupts into a fit of giggles, clutching her middle. They stop abruptly, and she winces, but gods, it feels good to hear her laugh. Even if it happens to be at my expense. “You’re not my therapist, Spence.”

I grip her chin and force her to look at me. “Did you really just laugh at me, Firecracker?”

She grins, biting her bottom lip, clearly holding back another outburst.

“Don’t think just because you’re injured—”

“And pregnant!” Another giggle.

“—that I won’t put you on your knees and fuck your mouth slow and steady until there’s so much drool on your face and arousal dripping down your thighs, you’re a sopping, needy mess.”

Her bright green eyes take on that hazy, lust-filled dream state I know and love. Though it is not possible at this point, given her myriad of injuries, my girl wants to play .

We can, however, engage in a little light petting. Before I can lean in and feed her my tongue, she pulls back. Her lips press into a thin line and her eyes darken with worry.

“What?” I demand, tension pulling at my shoulders. “What is it, love?”

With a visible swallow, she whispers, “Everything’s going to change.” A slow inhale, then exhale. “My body. My… limits. What we can do…”

Ah. There’s the rub.

“Not everything has to change.” I gently grasp the hair at her nape. “I’ll do my due diligence and research what’s safe. As long as you are amiable and it won’t harm you or the child you’re carrying, our dynamic can remain intact.”

Her eyes light up. “Promise?”

My brilliant, beautiful girl. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give her. No version of life I want to live without her by my side.

I tuck her hair behind her ear, then bend low so I can whisper her my vow.

“Have faith, love. You can be the mother of their children and still be my needy, cum-guzzling whore. You have three holes, after all.”

She squirms in my lap—that’s my fucking girl—then turns her head, giving me access to her mouth so I can kiss her thoroughly. When we break apart, panting, she grips the back of my neck like she’s desperate to never let me go. “I love you,” she professes, the three words a song brought in on the cooling night air.

“I love you, too, Hunter.”

Though we’ve had a moment’s reprieve, I can’t let the other half of my reason for bringing her across the lake alone drift away. “There’s one more thing I need to share with you.”

She rests contentedly against my chest, peeking up. “What’s that?”

What do Americans often say? "Here goes nothing"? This certainly feels like more than nothing.

“There’s a tracker inside you,” I confess, chest tight, as if my body isn’t quite up to speed with my mind. As if it isn’t ready for the potential fallout.

Hunter shoots up, turns, and hits me with a searing scowl. There she is .

“A what ? Where?” She runs both hands up and down her arms, searching for the device she’s unwittingly carried with her for a few years now.

“Right here.” I smooth my thumb over the base of her skull. “It’s tiny. Smaller than a grain of rice. It was implanted in London, after your… episode.”

Her mouth drops open, then snaps shut. She repeats the gaping motion twice before finally finding her words. “Thank you for telling me.”

That’s it. That’s fucking all she says.

I’d keel over from shock if I wasn’t already sitting.

“You’re not upset?” I press, blinking rapidly. “I implanted a tracking device inside your body without your consent, Firecracker. I kept it from you for years .”

Brows raised, she scrutinizes me. “When you put it like that…” Quickly, her face splits into a smile. “No,” she says with a shake of her head. “I’m not upset. I won’t sit in judgment of anything any of us has done while trying to survive. The tracker… it’s how you found me here, yes?”

I nod.

“And when Magnolia took me to New York?”

Another nod. I’m beginning to see her point. I was so worried about her reaction, I had completely disregarded how practical and self-aware she can be.

“Would you like to have it removed?” I trace the invisible lifeline with the pad of my thumb.

“No,” she replies, her eyes brightening. “But I want to put one in you.”

I scoff. “Me? Why?”

A giggle escapes her, and she clutches at her midsection again with a wince. “The guys told me about your little speech at the med spa, you know.” She sits up straighter, clears her throat, and in with the most gods-awful accent I’ve ever heard in my life, says, “I’m Kabir Spencer. I’m from everywhere. I own everything.”

She’s mocking me. The little minx.

Her eyes grow hooded then, and she leans in close. Licking her lips, she says, “That all may be true. But at the end of the day, you belong to me.”

Bloody hell.

“Will you ask the others if they’d like trackers too?” My question is teasing and light, but there’s a gravitas in the air as I await her answer.

Shaking her head, Hunter meets my gaze. “No. Only you, Sir. I want to share this with only you.”

I smash my lips to hers, using enough fervor to tell her exactly what I think of this idea without being too rough.

Yet I can’t help the self-doubt-fueled question that comes out of my mouth when I eventually pull away.

“Why just me?”

For a moment, she pants, catching her breath. I savor the sight of her, wanton in my lap, alone on this boat, in the middle of the lake, finally safe and sound.

“I may be getting ahead of myself, but some day, if it makes sense for practical or legal reasons, I may end up marrying one of the guys.”

I still, a dark dread curling like smoke through me. “You wouldn’t choose me?”

If looks could kill, she could toss my body out of the boat this instant. “I will not be choosing anyone. Full stop.”

I can’t help but smile. Full stop is a British term, and one I’m quite certain I taught her.

Softer, with both hands stroking my hair, she says, “You’re not likely to need insurance or citizenship. And I know this”—she eyes her stomach, which I immediately cover with my hand protectively—“did not happen the way you wanted it to go.”

“No,” I bite out. “Don’t think of that again, Firecracker. I love you. I love this baby.” I splay my hand wide, savoring the connection that warms my insides when I think of the life growing inside her. “I’m sorry for my previous behavior. It was selfish and shortsighted for me to be so reactive. This is exactly what I want—with you, with them. I’ve already scheduled an appointment to have my vasectomy reversed this summer. My time will come soon enough.”

Hunter sinks against my chest, and we sit in idle silence, allowing the movement of the lake to sway us to and fro.

Eventually, she peeks up through thick lashes, her face puzzled.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Were you there when they put it in?”

“Pfft. They? I’m the one who placed it, love. I wasn’t about to trust anyone else with my most precious possession.”

Her eyes spark with a myriad of emotions: Desire. Appreciation. Possessiveness. Arousal.

“That settles it. I’m placing yours. Staking my claim. I’m putting a tracker inside you, Kabir Spencer. You’re mine, and you’ll never escape me.”

Bloody hell.

“You’re sure you don’t want yours out?” I ask again.

She shakes her head resolutely. “I’m sure. I want to share something with just you.”

“And you want that something to be matching subdermal tracking devices?”

Her lips twitch. “What can I say? I read a lot of dark romance.”

Chuckling, I kiss her hair, savoring her scent. Then I situate her so I can reach the throttle and navigate toward home. She’ll be my undoing, this one. I am beyond prepared to spend a lifetime catering to her every whim, caring for her every need, and loving her with all that I am.

“Endgame,” I whisper as the motor whirrs.

“Endgame,” she replies, settling back against my chest with a contended sigh.

Just as it was always meant to be.