Page 87 of Forbidden Eyes

Not again.

The water rushes over my skin as I dive in and power through it, part of me hoping to exhaust the fucking confusion out of me. Nothing has helped me to rid her from my thoughts, especially when I’ve known she’s only a walk away from me. So close. Too close. She needs to leave and go home to her father, make amends somehow, and get on with her life without me. There’s so much future for her out there. So many possibilities. Ivy League life. Ivy League friends.

Ivy League fucking husband.

I hit the end and turn, arms fuelling me back down the other end in frustration regardless of my cracked ribs. I don't even know how she managed to get me to the hospital, or herself away from her father back at that warehouse. She must have done something pretty substantial to get him to leave her, which is yet another reason this family is now in trouble, I guess. Maybe she told him to go fuck himself, told him they were finished. He won't leave it, though. He'll be back to get what is his.

A half hour powering up and down the pool at full speed and I stop, heaving in some breaths. Fuck. Everything hurts like a bitch. All because of her father and my attempt at chivalry. What a fucking thought. Chivalry would have been staying away from her in the first place and doing exactly what her father’s probably tried to do his whole life—protect her. I damn well deserve this pain for what I did, if not from him, then Quinn. Everything he’s done for me over the years and I give him this shit as thanks.

Nice, Carter.

Loyal.

I stare at the end of the pool house, watching the blue swathes of light dancing over the ceiling in the hope it’ll show me a way out other than telling her to leave. It doesn’t, no matter how long I stare at it. My dick might be fascinated with her, maybe my head is, too, but this house and everyone in it deserves more from me than self-interest. Always will. Without them, I’d be less than I am today with nothing to my name but hardship and back-end streets.

Maybe I should be the one to leave.

It is her family after all.

My body floats after that, focusing my eyes up at the ceiling, no energy left other than my brain persistently spinning round in circles that never quit. I’ve never been in love before, didn’t even think I was capable of the feeling. That’s what Quinn said, though. He said I must be to have done what I’ve done. Guess that’s why he didn’t go off on me. Nate either. I smile a little, remembering the four of them as I’ve grown up here. The arguments, the happiness. They fit well, all of them, like they’re all part of this Cane team. Logan, too. I’m not one of them, though. Not really. I’m a Mazarono.

Gutter trash compared to them.

Just proved it, too.

That thought alone forces my body to the end of the pool to get out. I’m leaving. I’ll go apologize, get my shit together, and go. Thanks to them I’ve got enough of my own money to set up somewhere new, find a new life. Staying will just confuse everyone.

Vico and Cane had an alliance, a good one. Both profit driven and family orientated. Then I go ahead and stick my dick in something that isn’t meant for the likes of me, no matter how much I wanted it or still want it. Quinn will find a way forward, manage the situation and get it back in control. And she can go back home, get on with that life of hers.

Without me.

I break the surface and rest my forehead on the end of the poolside, fingers tightening on the tiles at the thought of leaving any of this behind, let alone her.

“Hey.”

Fuck.

My eyes close at the sound of her, part of me refusing to acknowledge she’s standing there. She is, though. Right there, her voice so close I could probably reach out, grab her, pull her down into this water and do exactly what I feel like doing rather than the right thing. Damn my dick. I smile at the feel of it waking up again, a bitter chuckle leaving me. What the fuck does it matter now? Perhaps I should enjoy her again. Enjoy it for the last time.

It sure as hell won’t happen again.

“Can’t you even look at me?” she asks tentatively.

My forehead presses into the tile, eyes still not able to look because if she’s in a fucking bikini again there’s not a chance in hell I’m stopping this. Everything aches at the sound of her. My dick, my hands, even my chest makes me feel something I don’t want to feel. Like my body’s getting weak and running on air.

“Go lock the door before I do,” I eventually reply, pushing back off into the water to stare at the ceiling again. It’s safe up there. At least for the moment.

A few minutes later I hear a small splash and I roll onto my front, lips hovering just above the water. Damn it. Bikini. I could shout at my dick for a week and it wouldn’t shut up from that vision. She’s sitting on the side of the pool, long legs dangling into the water. I keep myself in the middle, away from her, not sure why. I told her to lock the door, pretty obvious what I’m thinking about.

“You okay now?” she asks.

I nod, unable to speak words other than ones laced with sin and lust. That’s not the type of conversation I was aiming for. Doesn’t seem to stop me remembering the camera in here, though. Or the audio attached to it. “See that panel on the wall behind you, in the corner?” I mutter. She looks over her shoulder, a frown on her face.

“Yeah.”

“Go press the red button three times.”

“Why?”