“It was hell not having you around.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Vlad. It won’t happen again.”
“Hey, old guy. Share the beautiful woman,” Rhett says interrupting us.
“Fuck you. I’m not old.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Vlad punches him in the arm as he moves toward the kitchen. My eyes reach for the heavens.
The track changes to an upbeat country song and Rhett takes my hands. In perfect timing, we line dance around the room to one of the few couple’s dances I know. His smile is infectious. Our boots echo off the floor in perfect time and with each turn around the floor, more people join us in the living room.
As the song ends, everyone bursts into a round of applause. Rhett and I bow, laughing like teenagers and shuffle into the kitchen. Teresa slides me a tumbler of Tequila, which I haven’t had in a while. My eyebrows shoot up, glancing from the glass to her.
“What?” Her attempt at innocence is pathetic.
“The only time you serve me Tequila is when something is going on. What’s going on?”
Her face crinkles as if she’s waging some internal battle. “Sorina and Agent Morris went for a walk this morning.”
Heat floods my face. “A walk where?”
“The guesthouse.”
My feet move quicker than my brain and before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve gotten my whip from the bedroom and bee-lined out the front door.
“Lily, calm down,” Jameson shouts from behind me.
The trees and training area blur as I walk across the lawn and slam my boot into the guesthouse door. Sorina and Samuel both jump, their heads twisting in my direction. He’s kneeling on the bed wearing only his jeans, Sorina’s legs wrapped around his waist while she’s in nothing but her bra and panties.
Black spots interrupt my vision, my right hand flicking toward them without any coherent thought forming in my brain. The whip wraps around Samuel’s neck and he grunts. Sorina falls back off his lap onto the bed and I yank, pulling him back onto the floor.
“Mom, stop!”
Stomping out of the house, I drag him behind me until his body thuds against the ground.
“Lily, enough,” Blake yells.
Sorina stands in the doorway, mortified. Another flick of my wrist unravels the leather from Samuel’s neck. He rolls onto his hands and knees, choking and gasping for air. I pace back and forth a few feet from him, my face hot enough to fry an egg.
“Vi-per, pl-ease. Let. Me. Ex-plain.”
The sound of his voice agitates me more, and I close the space between us, planting my boot in his side. He rears up and lands hard, groaning. My boots are steel tip and he’ll be lucky if I didn’t just break a rib.
“What did I tell you two?”
“Mom, please,” Sorina cries.
“Sorina, go in the house,” I say through gritted teeth.
“No, Mom, listen, we—”
“You what! You didn’t listen to a fucking thing I said, Sori. He will go to jail. Do you understand that? Interpol will have no choice. You’re a minor!”
“Lily let’s calm down, hon.” Hyde steps up next to me, gently grabbing my hand.
He takes the whip as I do my best to slow my breathing. Samuel sits on the ground, holding his side, his head between his knees.