Demand (Careless Whispers #2)(30)

Stunned by this revelation, which doesn’t justify her actions but helps explain them, I pull her into a hug. “I know that hurt. I know it scared you.”

She sobs and I hold her for several seconds, before she makes a low, frustrated sound and pulls away from me. “This is why I hate Kayden.”

Protectiveness flares in me hard and fast, forcing me to tamp down on it just as quickly. “I know why you’re connecting this to The Underground, to the many tragedies in your life—but Kayden gave Enzo specific orders that he ignored.”

“Kayden tells those men when to pee.”

“Kayden gave him an order that he ignored,” I repeat. “And we all make choices, and we live or die with them.”

“Kayden gave him the job he was on, knowing it was dangerous,” she argues.

“Kayden tried to talk him out of the job. And when he finally let him take it, he told him to observe and report. Instead, Enzo charged after his prize—and he knew the risks.”

She glares at me and then storms past me to the store.

I follow. “Giada,” I say, but she ignores me, keying in the code to open the heavy wooden door arched in front of us, then staring forward. “Giada, damn it,” I growl. “Look at me.”

She faces me. “You’re f*cking Kayden. You’re not objective.”

“Kayden is much more than a f*ck to me,” I snap, irritated at her crassness, which matches Gallo’s a little too closely. “Do you think I’m not terrified that when he walks out of the door, he won’t come back?”

“Then get out while you can. Because mark my words: one day, he won’t come back.”

“Yes, he will. I have to believe that. And even if he doesn’t, I’m not giving up days of my life that could be spent with him, just because there might not be one more. This is who they are. They are The Underground, Adriel included. Like my father was in the Army. He was a risk taker. Kayden and Adriel are risk takers. Loving them means accepting them.” She tries to duck under the door, and I grab her arm, forcing her to look at me. “Loving them means accepting them,” I repeat. “Keeping them safe means accepting them—not distracting them, which could get them killed. If you can’t do that, I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here. You have to leave.”

“You can’t say that. Adriel says that.”

“This is Kayden’s home. Unless you’re able to do a one-eighty, you’re gone. And even then, it might be too late.”

“In other words, he’s going to kick me out. I should have known it.”

“You’re right. You should have. He’s The Hawk, and he carries every loss of life he’s experienced as a hole in his heart. He won’t let you be one of them. Or Adriel. And you’re going to get Adriel killed.”

“Now I’m the one putting him in danger?”

“Sweetie. He is part of The Underground—”

“He’s not.”

“He is. And every moment he denies it is misery to him.”

“What about me? What about how I feel?”

“Not everything is about you. We all lose people. We all hurt. And we’re all in danger when you act like you did last night. Grow up, Giada. And show some appreciation for Kayden, who lets you live here, and set up a fortune in a trust for you. And show some appreciation for your brother, who’s miserable running a damn store, when he wants to hunt.”

“You don’t know him.”

“Apparently, I know him better than you, because the hunt is in that man’s eyes. Let him be happy. You have a fortune in a trust fund. You can do anything. Be anything. Go anywhere.”

“I’m not leaving here. I’m not leaving my brother.”

“Then you have changes to make, and some real convincing to do,” I say. “Think about it.” I turn away and enter the store, taking broad, adrenaline-laden steps, when I stop dead in my tracks at the realization that Adriel is standing there in front of me, his legs planted in a V, his arms folded over his chest.

I hold my breath, not sure what he overheard, or how he’s going to react. But as we stare at each other, there is less ice than before, and after several moments, he nods in appreciation.

I give him a nod in return. “I was going to have lunch with Giada, but I thought it best we stay in. Do Italians have pizza delivery?”

His lips quirk, his mood remarkably, palpably, lighter. “This isn’t ancient Rome. Of course we have pizza delivery.”

“I was hoping to hang out here. My tower is rather quiet and . . . empty.”

“I know the definition of the word quite well,” he surprises me by saying, lifting one hand toward an archway leading to a part of the store I’ve never visited. “You’ll find a full living room and kitchen there.”

“Thank you.” I start to walk away and pause. “I mentioned to Kayden that I’d like to help out here in the store.”

“And he said what?”

“He wasn’t receptive at the time,” I admit.

His lips quirk. “Let me guess. You plan to change his mind.”

“Not change his mind. Just . . . talk.”

“You talk quite effectively,” he comments dryly. “Let me know when you’re ready for the keys.”