Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(25)

He knows who I mean. His voice gentle, he says, “Declan’s a wicked smart man, lass. And wicked powerful. He’ll not let your sister come to any harm.”

“But what about him? I bet there are lots of guys who want to do him harm, right?”

“Aye. But he’s been around this game a long, long time. He knows every trick in the book, even the ones that haven’t yet been written. More than twenty years he’s had in the life, and he’s still standing. He’ll stand for another twenty easy, mark my words.”

Spider is obviously very proud of his boss. His confidence in Declan sounds unshakeable. It makes me breathe a little easier, but I also know that nobody’s invincible.

No matter how smart you are, there’s always someone smarter. Even the highest and most secure castle walls can be breached.

Case in point: Malek.

He came in and out without being seen by any of Declan’s guards. I locked the patio door, and he somehow unlocked it from outside. I haven’t heard a peep about triggered security alarms or violated perimeters, but he snuck onto the premises without raising any red flags, appearing noiselessly in my bedroom where he could have quite easily murdered me.

But didn’t.

He called me baby and left me a white rose, instead.

I haven’t decided what I’m going to do if he shows up again.

I’m not na?ve. I know he’s dangerous. He wears violence like cologne. Trusting men like him is what gets women like me killed.

But there’s something both powerful and undeniable that draws me to him. An irresistible natural force, like gravity. He knelt next to my bed and took my face in his big rough hand, and my heart opened like a flower.

Clearly, I have the same brains god gave a flea.

“Did Declan tell you anything about the situation with his old boss when you talked to him about taking me out for a drive?”

“It was a text message.”

“Oh.”

“But I did talk to him last night.”

I can tell from his voice that he’s got information. Sitting up straighter in my seat, I look at him eagerly. “And? What did he say?”

“Long story short, without getting into all the gory details, Diego’s got amnesia. Can’t remember a bloody thing that happened to him.”

I gasp. “No way!”

“Aye. They saw him in the hospital. The poor sot doesn’t even recognize Declan. Doesn’t know his own name. Has no bloody idea who or where he is.”

“That’s awful!”

Spider makes a noise of agreement. “It’s quite a mess, all around.”

I examine his face. “Sounds like there’s more to it than amnesia.”

Looking serious, he glances in my direction. “When Declan thought Diego had been killed…let’s just say he didn’t take it sitting down.”

“Oh, boy. That sounds murdery.”

“Aye. Retaliation in kind when a boss is killed is normal business. But with Diego alive, certain actions Declan took have been proven unnecessary. And with Diego not being able to recall who kidnapped him and locked him up, the whole thing’s one giant clusterfuck.”

I get that there’s going to be blowback on Declan for whatever murdery stuff he did to avenge Diego, and I don’t think it’s fair.

“But Declan has an excuse. He really thought Diego was dead. There was a body and everything!”

Spider chuckles darkly. “Tell that to the rest of the families.”

“Wow. I’m glad you can be so nonchalant about it. I think I’d be having a heart attack.”

He shrugs. “It’s the life. Never a dull moment. Dodging death keeps a man young.” He pauses. “What’s that screwy face for?”

“What you just said is probably the most macho thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not sure it was a compliment. Oh, look, a bookstore! Can we go in there?”

I point at an adorable little shop we’re passing by. The fa?ade is painted bright blue. Potted red geraniums line the big bay window in front. A few bicycles are parked outside beside a row of small café tables. People sip coffees and chat in the morning sun.

“Your wish is my command,” says Spider, smiling. He makes a right turn, taking us around the block.

“In that case, I wish for season tickets to the 49ers.”

Spider makes a retching noise. “Ugh. American football.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You Yanks wear too many bloody safety pads. Wankers. And the helmets!” He scoffs. “To cover your dainty eejit brains.”

“Ah. I see where this is going. You’re about to extoll the manly virtues of rugby, right?”

He glances at me, grinning, before pulling into a parking spot at the back of the store. “Extoll?”

I say mildly, “Oh, shut up.”

As soon as Spider turns off the SUV’s engine, I open the door and hop out, collecting my laptop. When I turn around, he’s standing right in front of me.

Scowling.

Taken aback, I say, “What?”

He says crossly, “You’re supposed to let me open the door and help you out, lass.”

“Why? Do I look like I normally have trouble exiting vehicles?”