Page 48 of The Games We Play (Balance of Power #3)

SEAMUS

M imi’s face is full of shock as she steps through the bedroom suite door.

Her lips part as her eyes bounce around the room, taking in the built-in king size bed and mid-century modern decor.

The bathroom ensuite door is slightly ajar, exposing the beige and brass tones of the tiling throughout.

The shower is double the size of most showers in a standard apartment, and can fit three decently sized bodies.

I have a feeling Christian had that remodeled specifically for him, Jake, and Elena.

I’ve flown with Ember a couple of times when scoping out a few buildings in New York, but I’ve never spent time back here. I can’t say the thought of taking Mimi in both this bed and the shower didn’t cross my mind, because it did. Multiple times.

Mimi slowly crosses the room as she takes everything in. I can’t help but stare at her as she wanders around. Her tight leggings hug every curve of her gorgeous legs and the over-sized hoodie does nothing to hide the fact that I know what’s underneath it.

As if she could feel my gaze on her, she turns around and her eyes meet mine .

My breath is heavy as I take her in. It’s like she can rip the air from my lungs with just a look in my direction. I’ve always known the effect she had on me. She’s haunted me my entire life, and now that she’s here with me, willingly, I have no idea how I’ll hold myself back.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She bites the corner of her lip, contradicting her statement.

“How am I looking at you?” I ask, genuinely curious as to what she’s feeling.

“Like an uncaged, wild animal.”

I dip my chin to my chest, attempting to hide my smile, because that’s exactly how I feel. And exactly how I’ve felt since the moment I saw her at Afterburn.

“You’re right,” I reply, stepping on the back of my heel with one foot removing my shoe, then I do the same to the other.

I shrug off my jacket and drape it over a chair before throwing my hand behind my head, tugging my shirt off as I make my way toward her.

She retreats backward before the back of her knees hit the side of the bed, and I stop in front of her, my body flush with hers.

“Everything in my controlled existence has completely gone up in flames since the moment you walked back into my life. And I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing.

” I cup the back of her neck, pulling her lips to mine.

She moans as she kisses me back, and I swallow the sound that makes its way straight to my swelling cock.

Our tongues move together like they crave the touch and my hands begin to roam over her body.

She dips her fingers in the waistband of my pants, her knuckles caressing the sensitive skin below my navel, and I instantly feel out of control. I press my body closer to hers, but a knock at the door makes her flinch back, pulling herself away from me.

Goddammit .

“Don’t go anywhere.” I kiss her hard before stepping away, and I hate how empty it feels.

I crack the door open, blocking the view of the room behind me as Rocco stands on the other side.

“What?” He’s completely unaffected by my abrasiveness.

“The pilot will only take his directive from you per Christian Ford’s orders, and I have updated information about Mr. Simmons and his legal team.”

Glancing over my shoulder Mimi’s brows furrow and I know she heard Rocco, but I don’t want her hearing any details of what we already know.

Did I plan on killing Nathan without anyone knowing the wiser? Yes.

Do I need to give her the chance to face him, tell her story, and get the closure she needs?

Also, yes. Unfortunately.

Which means I need to involve her, but right now I need to know what Rocco knows so I can figure out the next steps before sharing with Mimi.

I look back at her. “Give me a minute, okay?” She nods as I step out the door, shutting it behind me.

Rocco and I take a few steps toward the front of the plane where Miller is sitting, sorting through papers from the file Rocco pulled on Nathan.

The slapping of metal on metal snags my attention as the flight attendants retract the airstairs and close the cabin door. The cockpit door is still ajar and I can see the shoulder of the pilot and co-pilot as they flip switches and prepare for flight.

The pilot glances back at me and I give him a nod that we’re good to go.

“What’s going on?” I place my hands on my hips and roll my eyes, because I’m just now realizing I don’t have a shirt on.

Miller glances up, snickers to himself, and looks back down.

“Wipe that smile off your face and tell me what’s going on. ”

“It’s not a smile, it’s hardly a grin.” Rocco smacks Miller's chest with the back of his hand. “What? He’s got it bad. I’ve never seen him like this, just taking full advantage.”

I glare at him, completely unamused by his amusement, fighting to block my own smirk because my boys see right through me, but I don’t care about any of that when it comes to Mimi.

I’d happily tell the world how gone I am for her.

He clears his throat as my resolve beats out his.

He begins to share the details of what he has found out about the parole hearing and the timeline of when they’ll transfer him from the prison to the courthouse.

He’s even mapped out the route the bus will go and the guards that will escort the prisoner during the transfer.

I take in all the details that Miller and Rocco put together. Their plan is to take over the transport bus as it’s on route to the courthouse, then take Nathan to a secure location.

My guys are good, really good, and I’m suddenly feeling very grateful they have my back, no questions asked.

Jesus, Mimi is rubbing off on me. I am getting soft in my old age. Who am I kidding? That’s not age speaking. It’s love. I’m desperately in love and happier than I’ve ever been, and it’s making me ridiculously soft and weak.

And for some goddamn reason, I don’t care.

Except when it comes to finishing Nathan and making the rest of his life—if we grant it to him—as miserable as possible.

“The plan is good, but I have a better idea. Remember when we had to break you out of that prison in Tijuana?” I glance over at Rocco and he spears me with the look of the devil.

“Yeah, it took you long enough, too.” His reply is dry. Miller and I smirk as we look at each other, recalling that mission.

“Well, what if we get you in one this time?” I reply, looking back at Rocco as his face falls.

“That’s a U.S. maximum security prison.” He points at the paper, securitizing my comment.

“No, not there. We don’t need to worry about the prison or the transport bus if we know his final destination. He’ll be here until he’s brought into the courthouse for the hearing.” I point at the courthouse holding cells, which are minimally monitored compared to the prison.

Both Rocco and Miller stand a little straighter. Miller nods his head in a silent agreement as he looks over at Rocco. “He’ll be a sitting duck, an easy target.”

“You’re going to kill him?” Mimi’s voice rings through the air like a foghorn, and I turn to see her standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

Shit.

I turn back to face the guys and whisper, “Set it up. But this is plan B. No one moves on this unless I give the green light, understood?”

The guys look confused, but nod. “What are we calling it, sir? The Op?” Miller asks.

A few things flash through my head, landing on only one option.

The hunter known for killing beasts.

“Orion.” My voice is low as I respond to them before I step back and guide Mimi back into the room, shutting the door behind me.

“You’re planning to kill him?” Mimi blurts out, her arms flailing out to her sides. She’s pacing the room, unsure of how to feel. “I don’t want him dead.”

“I do.” My response comes out as a cat-like reflex and I know I can’t take it back.

I don’t want to take it back, but I am worried about what she’ll think of me. Will she hate how much I’ve killed? The things I’ve done simply because I was following orders? Some I’m proud of, some not. Regardless, it’s what I was trained to do. What I needed to do.

But I don’t care. If I spent all those years training to do those things to bring me to this moment, to bring peace to her by ridding him from this world, it was all worth it.

“He raped you. Beat you until you were unrecognizable and almost drowned you in a lake. He ruined the memory of that night, our night , which has haunted you for ten years. Ten fucking years of your life was taken because of him!” I’m breathless as I step closer to her, aligning my body with hers. “So yes, I want to fucking kill him.”

“I want to believe he’s better than he used to be…” she replies almost inaudibly. Like it’s hard for her to even say it out loud herself.

It should be.

He doesn’t deserve that kind of forgiveness. Not from her or anyone else that he bullied and tortured in his years.

She needs to know everything before I let her make her decision.

She’s here so she has the chance to tell her story and keep him in jail.

But, if he’s granted parole and there is an ounce of terror that resides in her eyes, I need her to be okay with letting me do what I need to do.

To keep her safe. To keep others safe, too.

I walk back toward the bedroom door, open it, and reach for the backpack placed on the chair right outside of it. Reaching in, I pull out thick manila folder with the photos from her attack and reports detailing all the other sexual harassment complaints filed against him.

Tossing it on the bed, the photos splay out in front of her, revealing flashbacks of that night. The very top photo is a picture of her beaten face, from the neck up after that night.

Surprisingly, her neck is untouched. Which is a relief considering what she enjoys sexually. If he would have held her down by her neck instead of her hands, her natural desire would be a fear she’d probably never be able to get over.