Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries #5)(63)

“You broke her, you motherf*cking, son-of-a-bitch, turdwad *.” Baby sis had a potty mouth, and she didn’t mind getting in his face. Well, she would be in his face if she had another foot of height on her.

“I didn’t break her. I gave her exactly what she wanted.” Except she did seem a bit broken and sometimes, when she thought he wasn’t watching her, he saw how lost she looked.

“She has spent five years with one goal and one goal only. Getting back to you. I told her you weren’t worth it, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She’s in love with you. She’s never been in love with anyone. Do you think I haven’t thrown men at her for years trying to get her to see that you’re just like the rest of them?”

He’d treated her like shit, so he probably was like the rest of them. Her father’s home likely hadn’t been the best place to meet a nice guy. “Do you want me to go down on bended knee and beg her forgiveness? Because that ain’t going to happen.”

If he went down on one knee, he’d try to get lower. He hadn’t spent enough time on her *. God, he already wanted her again. He’d wanted her about three seconds after he’d come. Another reason he’d pulled away.

He hadn’t wanted to put on that f*cking piece of latex. It had been there in his brain, a little whisper that told him if he just let nature take its course, he would have to keep her. If he kept her then she would have to toe the line. She would have to give up all the criminal shit and become the woman he was sure she could be. All he had to do was let a couple of swimmers loose and he would have Charlie bound to him forever.

Or he would at least have a piece of her when she left him again because there was no way he would ever be separated from his kid. Thirty-nine years of being sure he would die childless and the thought of a kiddo with her eyes and her smile had him acting like Papa Bear.

“I want you to let her go.” Chelsea kept her voice low.

“I’ve been trying to do that since the minute she walked back in,” Ian shot back. “She doesn’t seem keen on leaving.”

“You know what, I should hug you for being the ass I knew you had to be. Thank you, Ian Taggart, for not being able to see how lovable she is. And know this, if you hurt her again, I know how to crucify a man in three keystrokes. You think she was the one who got you on a no-fly list? That was me. I can do way worse, and I won’t hesitate. When this is over, she’ll leave with me. It’s my turn to take care of her and that means getting rid of you.”

Chelsea turned and shuffled off.

Ian thought about strangling her. He could probably do it with one hand. She was the reason Charlie had betrayed him in the first place.

Yep, he was so far gone, he was thinking about killing a girl who had probably seen more violence in her life than he had.

But something about her questioning his rights to Charlie really got his gut rolling.

The minute he’d seen her again, his possessive * had risen right back to the surface. He’d only ever felt that way about one woman. Hell, he’d been possessive of her when he’d thought she was dead. He’d kept her memory deep inside him, sharing only the smallest bits of her with his best friend and only to explain why once a year he went on a bender.

Ian followed Chelsea through the archway and into the great room. Charlie was looking at the floors saying something about the finish on them.

She was into this house shit? The way she moved, he would think she wouldn’t care.

Unless she dreamed about putting down roots, about being able to pick out finishes and countertops and f*cking paint for the kitchen because she wanted a house that was a home.

He hadn’t picked out anything on his own except the security system. He’d just left it all the way the last owners had wanted it. He never really thought about it, but he actually didn’t like it all that much. The playroom. Yeah, he’d picked out the stuff for the private playroom. So, great, his “home” was personalized with hooks and suspension gear and a really well-made spanking bench.

And he kind of liked the soapstone or whatever was on the countertop. It wasn’t ugly and it looked like it was just the right height to f*ck Charlie on.

She shut down the minute he came in the room, that hint of a smile on her face gone in a flash. Well, he’d asked for it.

Chelsea was giving him the good old stink eye. She was likely trying to figure out how to f*ck him up real good over the Internet.

He went to the glass doors leading out to what looked like a porch and a big backyard that hadn’t been fenced in yet. Yeah, glass doors from ceiling to floor was such a great idea. If Alex was trying to invite someone to kill him, he was doing a damn good job.

A little red light flashed through the night, finding its way right over Ian’s heart. Motherf*cker. The invitation had been received and accepted.

“Take cover!” He dove to the left just as a high-pitched ping shattered those gorgeous glass windows Alex had probably just had installed.

Hitting the floor, he rolled past what looked like the rest of a stack of that flooring Charlie seemed to love so much. “Charlotte, get the f*ck down. Get behind the counter and don’t you move.”

The great room separated them, and he damn near panicked that he wasn’t there to cover her body with his. He took his eyes off the door just long enough to watch her pulling her sister down, taking a protective position over Chelsea.