Page 60 of Toxic Devotion
“You should go,” Rome said.
“No, we?”
Rome cut Juno off, saying, “Your club decided not to help. You should honor that.”
“But?”
“It’s all right. We understand.”
Marco did understand. All too well.
Scar huffed, then said, “Well good luck, guys. As much as I like blowing things up, this is fucked, and I’ve got too much to live for. Sorry.”
Marco turned his head to look at her. “Don’t be. This isn’t your fight. I shouldn’t have gone to King for help.”
Another regret he could add to his ever-growing list.
Scar and Juno walked out of the room, and he frowned when Rome followed, then he looked down at his phone, unwelcome thoughts of Neil entering his head. He could still hear Neil’s voice in his head. That ‘I know,’ was seared into his fucking brain and he didn’t know what the hell to do with it. His heart burned and he fucking hated it.
Most days he wished he’d never met Neil. Then there were these small moments where he remembered the rush of love, theway Neil could make him smile like no one else. How he’d felt safe. Until he hadn’t.
He clenched his jaw tight and straightened, turning when he heard the snick of the door closing. Rome stood in the middle of the room, looking lost for a moment before he came to stand next to Marco at the window.
“You ready for this?” Marco asked.
“Fuck, yeah,” Rome growled, a hint of the deadly man he knew peeking through that carefully crafted mask he usually wore.
A smile slowly spread on his face.
“Let’s go kill this fucker.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Neil
HE PARKED on the street a few houses down from Marco’s safehouse, then headed up the sidewalk. He needed to get him the hell out of town. Marco being in danger was one thing. He was always in danger. Someone actively out to kill him? Yeah, fuck no.
He headed around the house to the back door, cursing under his breath when he found it open. Marco would know better. He pulled his gun and stepped through the door, heart in his throat as he searched the whole place, coming up empty.
The house was dusty enough that he could see imprints from where someone had sat on the couch and several footprints crossing the floor. Nothing about it pointed at a struggle but there wouldn’t be much struggling if someone had a gun pointed at you.
He slid his gun back into his hip holster with a frustrated breath, then pulled out his phone and speed-dialed Marco’s phone. It rang and it kept ringing until he got Marco’s voicemail.
“Fuck,” he growled under his breath.
His heart was hammering in his chest, leaving him breathless for a second. Marco in danger was his worst fucking nightmare.
The slightest sound of footsteps outside had him unholstering his gun and moving to the front of the house. He could see two men walking toward the front door, their faces familiar and their guns raised. Marco’s men. Or, they were. These had to be the fuckers who’d turned on him.
He watched them close in, preparing himself for a fight, until Rome and Marco appeared behind them. Relief coursed through him as he lowered his gun just a smidge.
“You have exactly ten seconds to come up with an excuse I might believe,” Marco growled at the men who whirled around and raised their guns only to get riddled with bullets.
Once Neil was sure they were done, he tucked his gun away and pulled open the door. Two guns snapped up at him. One was holstered with a curse while the other remained aimed at him. He couldn’t care less. Rome wouldn’t shoot without Marco’s say.
He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, eyes trailing over Marco’s face. He looked alright.
“I suspected someone might come for you,” he said, clenching his jaw when a note of distress came through in his voice. “I didn’t much like finding this place empty and you not picking up your fucking phone.”