Page 115 of Thorns of Deceit

I paused, pondering her words, and Raven took it as an opening. “She thinks the Callahans are just like Duncan. Youneedme there.”

Fuck!

“She might be right,” Tyran chimed, echoing my own thoughts. “We don’t want her mom resisting.”

“And we’ll have reinforcement backing us up,” Kyran cut in, and I let out an exasperated groan. When did my brothersbecome her knights? The reinforcements my brother was referring to were men from the Blackhawk Security firm who were experienced in military combat and rescue missions.

But none of that convinced me that it was safe to bring my wife so close to danger, and Duncan Lyons was a synonym for danger—especially for her.

Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach as my instincts flared. Protecting Raven was my priority, and taking her into the lion’s den would be the antithesis.

“I won’t play hero,” Raven continued, putting her hand on my chest. “I’ll stick to you like glue and only speak when I see my mom.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I extricated myself from her warm touch and went to my safe, taking out a small knife and handgun.

“Whoa, you’re giving your wife a gun?” Kyran questioned. “Are you sure that’s smart?”

I ignored him and turned to her, then began demonstrating how to use the weapon.

“You release the safety switch, then put your finger on the trigger.” I guided her finger to it and let her hold it. “This is for emergencies only. If shit hits the fan, you shoot at anything that moves and get out of there.”

I reached for the holster and hooked it on her shoulders.

“I feel like a mobster.” She tried to smile, but her trembling lips failed.

“You stay by my side,” I demanded. “Use me as a shield if bullets fly.”

“But—”

“No fucking buts, Raven,” I growled. “You protect yourself and our baby, and you get the fuck out of there.”

“O-okay.”

We stood, staring at each other while I battled my inner demons that demanded I lock her up in a tower and protect her. But I knew that wasn’t the answer to our marriage.

“Do I have time to get my prenatal vitamins?” she asked, and I nodded. She turned on her heel and rushed out.

The moment the sound of squeaking Converse faded away down the hallway, Tyran deadpanned, “You love her.”

“I do,” I replied without hesitation.

Despite seeing what love did to my parents, I loved her. It terrified me because it meant I had something to lose.

There was no point in pretending. I should’ve told her. Hell, I should shout it from the rooftops, but now wasn’t the time. Not before we headed into a mission.

Timing mattered, and I’d prefer to profess my love when this business with Duncan and her mother was behind us.

“I think she loves you too,” Kyran added dryly, arms crossed. “When she was grilling me about our dress code, she started talking about your ass in jeans. In graphic detail.”

Tyran made a choking sound. “What?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re making that shit up.”

He made a pfft sound.

“The hell I am. She said, and I quote, ‘I hope he wears skinny jeans because I love his ass in them,’ and then she rambled on about how they make you look like a wanted felon she wants to ravish. I threw up a little in my mouth.”