Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)(93)

But she saw it.

She saw it.

Why was he confused?

He remembered everything else. He should have remembered that conversation as well.

“Andrei said that you were sending me after him—that you were upset because of what he had done. But you didn't know, did you?”

“Luna, leave it.”

“Why would—”And like a freight train, the answer slammed into her. “No.”

“Don’t,” Uilleam said, and actually looked apologetic.

He knew that she knew.

Luna didn’t give him a chance to say anything, or rather she was just done listening.

This didn’t end with him.

It ended with the man she loved.



That was the thing about grief—it manifested itself differently depending on the person.

There were some that were crippled with sadness—that lost track of time as they desperately tried to forget whatever had brought on the grief in the first place. But some grew enraged. Even as the sadness clung to their hearts trying to stop its beating, it was rage that coursed like adrenaline and kept them from succumbing to the anguish.

Luna couldn’t say when the emotions had shifted for her, but the minute her mind had ceased its noise, replaced with a fuzziness she didn’t want to think about, she was climbing onto her bike, tugging her helmet into place as she raced off, letting the view of Uilleam’s building disappear behind her.

Accelerating well beyond the speed limit, Luna could only think of the conversation they’d had that morning—that he said he would be leaving out again.

They had fallen into a comfortable routine while they worked. Should she be on an assignment, he didn’t linger around to see whether she would be home before his flight, or vice versa.

Luna didn’t know how long she rode before she was parking along the street, but it was long enough for the chill to sink into her skin and make her feel nearly as cold as the elements.

Starting up the drive, she caught sight of a familiar Maserati, parked haphazardly in front of the garage.

Trepidation filled her as she walked up those stone steps, but why was there fear? That was the last thing she should have felt confronting the man she loved.

It was a misunderstanding, she tried convincing herself.

It was all just a misunderstanding.

Kit’s voice carried through the door, the loudest she had ever heard him. He was on the phone, she could see once she cleared the door. There was a fire in his eyes as he swung his gaze in her direction.

The moment he saw her, he ended his call, tossing the phone on the table nearby. It didn’t matter that the person on the other end was still talking, his entire focus was on her.

And while once that might have thrilled her, he was too still—too assessing of her every step to make her think that it was because he was happy to see her.

Kit was on guard.

And with that thought, she realized that everything she had feared on the long drive back to him was true.

It was all true.

“What did you do?” she asked, the words like razors in her throat.

Had she not been looking for it, Luna might have missed the way he carefully blanked over his expression, revealing nothing.

She hated that look—such easy indifference in the face of her hurt. She couldn’t hide it, not if she wanted to, and the implication of that expression made her feel like he had shoved a knife into her chest and twisted.

“Tell me,” she uttered, furious with herself for begging.

“I didn’t know,” he finally answered, softer than she had ever heard him. “You—”

“Have to believe you?” There was a sort of numbness that was working its way through her, but not quick enough. Not before the pain of what he was admitting nearly took her breath her away.

But before she could say anything more, he was speaking again. “I didn’t know it was you, Luna. You have to believe that.”

“Is that supposed to make it better? Do you think that absolves you? It’s because you didn’t know who I was that …” she couldn’t find the right words, emotion clogging up her throat. There was so much she wanted to say that her thoughts were scrambled. “It’s the fact that you didn’t know who I was! How could you condemn someone to hell just because you’re upset with your brother?”

Kit wasn’t one to cast blame.

He didn’t mention his brother’s role in it, nor had Uilleam mentioned Kit. It seemed only appropriate that the two responsible for helping f*ck up her life were covering for each other.

How could she have been so stupid?

So blind to the truth that had been sitting right in front of her had she ever bothered to look. She couldn’t even use na?ve as an excuse—gullible sounded far better.

How happily she accepted whatever they told her, only glad that she had been rid of Lawrence and nothing more.

And Kit … she had wanted his love.

Attention.

She wanted him.

Not once had she further questioned why she couldn’t reach out to her family, or ever go back there. His word had been law to her.

But no more.

That was done.

“You misunderstand,” he tried, this time successfully closing the distance between them.

“No,” Luna said holding a hand up, making it clear that he was as close to her as she would allow. “I didn’t misunderstand anything. You told me everything I needed to know. Now, we’re done here.”