“No.”
“Hmm. Well, it made sense to me that an assassin would take advantage of the noise and distraction of a biker brawl. They tasked extra men with keeping Saint occupied, then waited for their moment, knowing that your priority would not be yourself.”
It made sense to me too. Cam didn’t give a shit about himself. If he had, he’d have run a mile from the Rebel Kings when he’d lost his parents. “They came for him when Rubi was down, didn’t they?”
Alexei nodded. “It is what I would have done.”
“So you shot him first?” Cam asked hoarsely.
“I did.”
“Fucking hell,” Cam repeated. He shook his head and closed his eyes, digesting.
I wanted to be closer to him but found myself drawn to Alexei instead. I took the tea he didn’t want from him and set it aside, then rubbed warmth into his cool hands. “You can’t be cold all the time.”
“Why not?”
“Bad for you.”
“You are a sweet boy, wingman.”
“Boy?”
“You are younger than me.”
“Am I?”
Cam’s eyes snapped open. He looked at Alexei without seeming to notice his hands were wrapped up in mine. “You never told me how old you are.”
“You didn’t ask, but it is not difficult to figure out for yourself. I have told you my life story.”
Cam frowned, deep and dark, cogs turning in that crowded brain of his. “How long have you been free?”
“Two years.”
“You’re twenty-nine?”
“Correct.”
“You’re the same age.” Cam glanced at me. “Right?”
I nodded and released Alexei’s hands. “You’reold.”
“I’m thirty-two, fuckhead.”
Alexei whistled, almost laughing.
Cam laughed too and shook his head, dark hair gleaming in the glow from the fire. “Is this how it’s gonna be? You two ganging up on me?”
Alexei shifted closer to me, his thigh pressed to mine as he leered at Cam. “Would you like that?”
“Don’t pull on that thread.”
“Why not?”
Cam licked his lips. “Cos it never fucking ends.”
4