She looks fucking perfect. She looks exactly like mine, just as I am hers. “This is coming home with me,” she says quietly.
“Damn right it is.”
The word home coming from her lips has my chest aching.
Violet watches this whole exchange with her eyebrows somewhere near her hairline. Then she looks at me, looks at Lola in the cowboy hat, and shakes her head.
“I’m going to need someone to explain the hat thing to me,” she mutters, heading back into the bedroom.
Lola grins. I grin. And something that was broken settles back into place.
It takes about thirty minutes to strip the apartment. Ace and Colten haul boxes. Luke handles the kitchen. Lola and Violet pack their rooms.
I’m carrying a stack of boxes down the stairwell when Violet appears on the landing. “Hunter. A word.”
It’s not a question.
I set the boxes down. She’s standing with her arms crossed, chin tipped up, heeled boots putting her at roughly my chest height. She looks like an angry chihuahua squaring up to a rottweiler, and she does not care.
“What are your intentions with my best friend?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “My intentions?”
“You heard me. Because let me be very clear.” She takes a step closer. Points a finger at my chest. “If you hurt her, I will end you. I don’t care how big you are. I don’t care how many brothers you have. I don’t care about your ranch or your trucks or your stupid hat. I will burn your life to the ground, and I will enjoy doing it. Are we clear?”
The laugh is right there. Sitting in my chest. Begging to get out. I swallow it.
“Are you threatening me?” I ask.
“Absolutely, I am.”
“Right here? Right now?”
“I’ll threaten you wherever I damn well please.”
“With that finger?”
“With whatever I have available.” She doesn’t back down an inch. If anything, the finger presses harder into my chest.
I nod slowly. Giving her my full attention, because this woman has earned it. I don’t think she has any idea she’s talking to a mafia boss like this. People have lost body parts for less.
“Violet. I have no intention of hurting Lola. She’s the best thing that’s walked into my life in a very long time, and I plan on spending whatever time I’ve got making sure she knows that every single day.”
She narrows her eyes. Not satisfied.
“And if I do hurt her? Then I’ll hand you the matches myself.”
She stares at me for a long beat. Searching for the lie and not finding one.
“Okay.” She drops her hand. “But I’m watching you, cowboy.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“Good.” She straightens up. Smooths down her top as if we’ve just concluded a business negotiation. “Now go carry those boxes. You’re not just standing there looking pretty.”
She turns on her heel and marches back into the apartment. I hear her shouting at Ace to be careful with her makeup bag. Ace shouts back that he’ll be careful when she stops throwing shoes at him.
I now see why Luke runs after her like a lost puppy.