I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

She’s asleep, but barely. Her sweet ass is glued to me, and the only thing keeping my rock-hard dick from sliding into her pussy is a flimsy pair of shorts she calls pajamas. And all I can do is lie here and hold her, and with every fucking inhale, I smell her, her hair, her skin, the heat coming off her.

The acrid scent of fear is gone. It dissipated when she finally fell asleep. I like knowing I scare her though. It’s fucked up, I know, but some twisted part of me likes having that power over her. Years ago, it hadn’t been fear she felt around me. She got anxious. Nervous. Like a girl with a crush. Now, things are different between us.

At the house today, I’d meant to interrogate her. To sit her down and get the answers I needed. But those questions, they got confused, everything got muddled. What happened that night two years ago was cut and dry. We’d been betrayed. She’d been a traitor. She’d set us up to save her brother. I believed that for the last year and a half when I’d learned she’d survived. Hell, I’d fucking mourned her death, only to find out she was living in the US. It didn’t fit. She’d cut some kind of deal, but with whom?

We’d been watching Armen El-Amin for years. He came into the picture after their parents died several years earlier. Shot down coming out of a restaurant. After that, their two other brothers, Rafi and Seth, disappeared. Fucking vanished into thin air. Eve was the only girl in the family, and the youngest sibling. When she’d come to us, she hadn’t been quite twenty. She’d been scared as hell. Fucking trembling. But she’d been desperate to save her brother Armen—the only family she had left.

I still remember the first day, seeing her sitting in that stark office after being questioned, waiting while we figured out if what she was telling us was true. To have El-Amin’s sister turn up and give us information just seemed too unbelievable. Too good to be true.

I watched from behind a one-way mirror. She’d sat there picking at her fingernails, and looking so fucking pretty. Innocent. Like she needed protecting. And she would once her brother found out what she’d done.

I was assigned to work with her. Well, I volunteered. It was foolish, I know, but I had to. I still remember how some of my soldiers would look at her. I had words with a few of them. She never knew it.

She came to trust me—at least I thought so—fairly quickly. That should have been a red flag right there. The intelligence she gave us was good though, and that’s why, the final night, the night we were supposed to take Armen down, I didn’t take enough care with things. I should have asked more questions.

The reason she came to us at all was to save Armen. She foolishly believed he could be saved, but her brother was a piece of shit. An assassin, essentially. But he wasn’t the big fish. We wanted the man he worked for. Malik, or as the locals called him, the Butcher.

A flash of memory from that night brings up the image I can’t seem to forget. A face. Eyes. Eyes I know, but can’t place.

I truly did believe she was part of the setup. Part of me still does, maybe. But seeing her today, seeing how she reacted to my questions, I’m not sure. No, I’m confused as fuck. Could it be that she wasn’t involved? That her brother had set her up? Or that he’d found out what she’d done and was willing to punish her the way he did? Stripping her naked in front of all those men. Selling her.

Thing is though, it doesn’t matter.

The names inked on my skin burn as I turn over to stare at the ceiling, as if calling me traitor for forgetting them.

Again.

It doesn’t matter because they died. And the reason they died is because I got distracted. I put the mission second. Second to her.

I failed them.

But that night, I couldn’t let what was happening to her go down. And I couldn’t open fire when she was in the room either, up on that fucking block, an easy target.

I turn back over to touch the small scar on her upper arm. I’d saved her from a bullet once. If I’d done my job that last night, given the order, she would have died. But my failure to do so killed six men loyal to me.

Fuck.

I wish I could sleep. Have some relief from the guilt, the regret. I haven’t slept a full night through in years. And now, it’s because I’m doubting.

Again.

Was I wrong to come after her?

Is she innocent?

Will she be able to lead me to the true villains?

Suddenly irritated, I toss the sheet back and get out of the bed. I won’t be getting any sleep tonight. I grab a pair of sweats, a T-shirt, and running shoes out of my bag and go into the living room to get dressed. It’s almost dawn and I need to sweat. Run, and for one hour, empty my mind.

I go over that night again and again, and I need a fucking break.

* * *

When I get back to the house, the sun is breaking through the few clouds in the sky, coloring them a deep orange. The neighborhood is still quiet but when I open the front door, I smell coffee.

Eve turns to face me. She’s sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming mug in her hands. She isn’t wearing any makeup, her hair is in a ponytail and she’s still wearing that little pajama set. I’m not sure she realizes how much of her it leaves exposed, but I decide not to mention it. I’ll enjoy the view instead.

“Morning,” I say as I close the door behind me and walk into the kitchen.

“How long are you going to be here?”

I give her a lopsided grin and help myself to a cup of coffee, opening the fridge as I sip and taking out the bacon and eggs.

“Help yourself,” she says.

“I will. Have been.” I get a frying pan and set it on a burner. I know where everything is, and I wonder if she realizes how many times I’ve been in here the last few weeks. I slide six strips of bacon into the pan and crack four eggs before turning to her.

She shrinks back a little when I do.

“I have to go to work,” she says, but she hasn’t made a move to rise.

“Tell your boss you’re taking me to see the other houses on your list and that I’m picking you up at home.”

“I don’t want to lie to him.”

“Fine, then tell him I slept over.”

She looks scandalized. “I can’t do that.”

I shrug. “That’s really not my problem.” I drain the coffee from my cup before pouring a second one, and flipping the bacon over. Her chair scrapes across the floor as she rises. I don’t bother turning around.

“Sit down.”

“I told you I have to go to work.”

I glance over my shoulder. “And I told you to sit.”

She hesitates but reads the warning in my eyes, and sits.

“Good girl.”

“I’m not a dog.”

Ignoring her, I get two dishes out of the cabinet and divide the eggs and bacon. Finding forks, I set the plates on the table and take the only other seat opposite her.

She looks at the food like it’s poison.

I pick up my fork and start eating.

“Breakfast, Eve. Eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” She pushes the plate away.

“You know better than to waste food. Now eat.”

She picks up her fork and pushes the eggs around. “How long are you staying?”

“As long as it takes.”

“Takes for what?”

“For me to get what I need.”

“What do you need?”

“Answers.”

She lowers her gaze back to her plate.

“Eat, Eve.” My food’s already gone.

She takes the smallest bite of eggs possible. I watch her as she chews and I know she has to force herself to swallow.

“That’s not so hard, is it?”

Her purse is on the coffee table. I get up and instead of bringing it over, I look through it to find her cell phone, and take it to the kitchen.

“Call your boss.”

“No.”

“Fine.” I know her password so I punch it in, then scroll through her contacts and put the phone on speaker as it starts to ring.

“What the hell?” She’s up trying to grab it out of my hands, but I grip hold of one of her wrists.

A groggy voice comes on the line a moment later, and her eyes go wide.

“Hello?”

She stares up at me and I smile, gesturing to ask who’s doing the talking.

“Um…Devon,” she starts.

Good girl, I mouth with a grin I know looks evil.

She tries to take the phone but I hold onto it, and to her.

“I’m sorry to call so early, but I wanted to let you know I’m on my way to pick up Mr. Beckham and I’ll take him out to see those other properties this morning.”

“Oh, okay, that sounds fine. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He sounds half asleep.

“Thanks. Um, go back to sleep, Devon. Sorry again for calling so early. I didn’t realize the time.” She gives me a glare at the last part.

I smile wide.

“Bye,” she says.

I hit end, release her, then switch her phone off and set it on the kitchen table.

“Again, not so hard, is it?”

“You can’t just do that! This is my job we’re talking about.”

I’m walking away though, into the bedroom. I need something from my bag and she’s not going to like it. When I return, she’s already switched her phone back on.

“I’ll take that.”

“No,” she turns her back, her thumbs working frantically, but I reach over her and close one big hand over both of hers.

“I said I’ll take it.” I look at the screen. She’s in the middle of changing her password. I just shake my head, and this time, slip the battery out and tuck it into my pocket. “Now sit.”

She’s furious but when she sees what I’ve got in my hand, she backs away.

“What are you doing?”

“I need a shower and I don’t trust you’ll be here when I get out, so I’m making sure you will be.” I hold up the handcuffs.

“No! No way!”

“I have a gag too,” I offer as her voice rises.

She’s confused for a second, and it makes me laugh. “Sit your ass down. You’ll finish breakfast while I have a shower. Then we can get down to business.”

“I said no!”

She sidesteps and makes a run for it, but I catch her easily, and instead of sitting her at the kitchen table, march her into the bedroom. She’s struggling and making too much noise for my liking, so I pull her back into my chest and lift her off her feet. One of my hands is covering her mouth, pressing the back of her head into me, the other is wrapped around her middle.

“What are you going to tell your neighbors if anyone gets curious about the noise coming from the house?” I ask, unfazed, easily moving her along. She won’t want anyone involved. It’d cost her too much. I know it, and I know she does too. Still, I like the feel of her body against mine, and her struggles, well, they only make my dick hard.

I know the instant she feels it because she stills.

Setting her down so she’s standing, I keep one hand over her mouth and rifle through my bag to get the ball gag out. When I see how wide her eyes go, I smile.

Without speaking, I toss her onto the bed. She’s on her belly, but before she can flip herself over and get up, I’ve straddled her and reach around to put the ball of the gag into her mouth. “Open up, habibi.”

She’s sealed her lips and is frantically turning her head from side to side. At least until I pinch her nose shut.

“Open the fuck up.”

The instant she does to take a breath, the gag’s in place and I secure it behind her head.

“Now, this could have gone differently,” I say, sliding her toward the headboard so she’s sitting up. “You could be eating a nice, quiet breakfast.” I cuff one of her wrists then slide the cuffs through the bars of the headboard and secure the other. “But you chose to do it the hard way.”

I get up off the bed and look down at her. She’s struggling against the cuffs and is saying something, but it’s all muffled sound. I smile wide.

“Try to relax,” I say. I turn my back and walk into the bathroom, whistling a tune, enjoying this, enjoying myself more than I have in a long time.