The truth of the matter was I did know that the only way to stop Conner was to put him down like a rabid dog in the street. And I also knew that wasn’t how Titus operated; in fact I was counting on his strong moral compass to keep him from crossing those kinds of lines. No, what he needed to do was keep me alive long enough, keep me safe enough that I could get close enough to Conner and take care of him myself. As far as I could tell, that was the only way to restore the karmic balance that I had set off kilter when I went looking for Novak all those years ago. When I had wanted revenge, wanted my sister’s boyfriend to pay for all the ways he had destroyed her life, I should have been brave enough, strong enough, to take care of him myself and then been properly punished. Having someone else do my dirty work was the ultimate cop-out. I wouldn’t ever be that weak or owe anyone that kind of favor again.
Now, when judgment day rolled around, it would be Conner and me face-to-face, and he would know exactly why I was the one pulling the trigger. It was my turn to stop the madness so that men like Titus had a shot, so that Race could take the vices and addictions that were rampant here and put some kind of cage around them, so that Nassir could feed the beast without it having to cannibalize itself, so that guys like Bax actually got a break for once. I understood redemption better than anyone gave me credit for and Titus wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty at all. I already had blood on mine, so what was a little bit more?
Conner had tricked me. He made me think he was one of the good guys. That he was one of the fighters for justice and fairness. Sure, I wanted to believe it so badly that I had ignored everything that was screaming at me, that was trying to tell me he wasn’t what he seemed. He had pulled the wool over my eyes. The only time I felt secure, had felt like any other normal young woman in her early twenties without an ugly past and a questionable set of ethics, was with Connor and he had faked it all. None of that had been real.
I jumped when the cell phone Titus had dropped off beeped with a text message. I snatched it up and called myself a few choice names when my pulse kicked at just the sight of his name in the message.
I’ll be up to get you in 10.
Typical Titus. No mincing words with that guy.
I sighed and cast a rueful look down at the borrowed clothing I was wearing. I had no idea who Titus’s neighbor was, but she was much shorter than me and had a thing for bright colors and patterns, where I typically favored a more neutral palette. I cringed inwardly when I thought about how ridiculous the hot-pink short-shorts and stretchy lime-green tank top had to look. I also hadn’t seen an ounce of makeup aside from my purse stash since I got back to the Point, and so far the most flattering thing I had come up with for my hair was a ponytail.
I was used to looking good. I was used to being able to use the way I looked to disarm others and to deflect questions I didn’t want to answer. I hadn’t had that advantage with Titus since he showed up at the motel. He was seeing me at my worst and I didn’t like that because he already had such a poor opinion of me. I wanted some kind of upper hand but that wasn’t happening, so I resigned myself to suffering his silent brooding and judgment while he moved me from point A to point B. I needed to brace for it if we were going to be spending time together, which we would be if things went according to Titus’s plan.
I pulled on a black hoodie that had to belong to him or someone close to his size. It covered my fingertips and reached down to midthigh, well past the shorts I was currently wearing. It wasn’t much better than the garish outfit I had on underneath it, but it would do for this journey.
I pulled open the door after his first knock and took a quick step back to avoid getting tagged in the forehead by his falling fist, which was poised to knock again. I sucked in a quick breath that I hoped he couldn’t hear as I stood frozen on the spot while his eyes roved over me. The blue was so bright it was like opening the door to the sky. His mouth pulled down on the sides and his eyebrows shot up as his gaze skimmed along the bare length of my legs under the hoodie.
“Do you have pants on?”
His voice was gravelly and rough, much more so than usual, and I had to swallow before I could answer. I was doing a little ogling of my own and it took me a second to realize he was talking to me. Instead of his usual rumpled, button-up shirt and pressed slacks, he had on a black T-shirt that was stretched tight across muscles that looked like they were made of stone. His long legs were encased in faded jeans that had a hole in the knee and one in the thigh. The skin peeking out of the frayed material was a tawny color and looked just as hard as the rest of him. There was no softness to Titus King even when he was off duty. He had on the same boots he wore while he worked but his hair was in disarray like he hadn’t bothered to comb it down, and I had never seen the resemblance between him and his younger brother be as strong as it was right then. He looked just as harsh, just as unpredictable, as Bax ever did and it had places inside me quivering in a way that I really needed to ignore so that I could answer him and not sound like a breathless moron.
“Of course I have pants on. It’s not my fault your neighbor is a midget.”
I stepped away from the door and he followed me inside, immediately making the room feel a hundred times smaller.
“Did I say my neighbor? I meant my neighbor’s daughter. My neighbor weighs well over three hundred pounds, but her teenaged daughter is about your size, just shorter. I would’ve asked Dovie or Brysen, but I wanted to make sure we had a secure place to go before the charade starts. Dovie would have told Bax, and I’ve had enough of him being all over my ass where you’re concerned as it is. Brysen would have been game but I already pulled in all the favors I had where Race is concerned and I didn’t want to owe him any more.”
“Well, I’m glad no grown woman was trying to wear hot-pink short-shorts as actual clothing.” I lifted the hem of the hoodie to show him I did indeed have pants on, and noticed the way silver sparked in the center of his irises. “But I am going to need to get my hands on some real clothes in the near future. If the plan is to flaunt this affair in Conner’s face and to get him to come out of hiding, then I need to look like I look normally do.”
“How is that?”
He jerked his gaze away from my legs and lifted them up to look me in the eye. “How’s what?”
“How do you normally look?” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and I had to bite the tip of my tongue as the action pulled the top of his jeans down just enough that a sliver of skin was exposed between them and the edge of his T-shirt. Corrugated abs and that vee that was bound to make woman drool danced in front of my eyes. I had to count to ten to keep myself from reaching out and trying to touch the exposed skin that was dusted with just a hint of dark hair. Of course Titus wouldn’t be all baby smooth and perfectly manicured like so many men were today. He was too much of a man for that. It was just one more way in which Conner had been a sorry substitution for what I really wanted. He had been polished and primped even more than I was.