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Do I want him to?

God, the things inside that book are wrong. So fucking wrong. But the idea of getting to do them, and with him or his brothers?

A spark of excitement shoots through me.

His smile grows. “You’d like that, wouldn't you?”

“We’re done here,” I announce, clearing my throat as I get to my feet.

“Don’t run away, Little Bunny,” he calls after me as I leave the bathroom, then his bedroom.

I need some air, because I was seconds away from falling into whatever trap that man was setting for me without a second thought.

“My name is Cove,” I huff as I head down the hallway.

“Cove.” Maverick’s voice has me stopping. He’s standing in the doorway of one of the rooms. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Perfect. Wonderful,” I mutter. “Doesn’t everyone love being kidnapped and held against their will?”

“Someone is a little feisty,” Saint snorts, stepping out of his own room and leaning against the doorjamb.

“Why the hell are you two up here?”

“Showering?” Saint raises a brow. “What were you two doing?” he asks, looking at me and then behind me.

“Fucking.” Shepherd’s smug voice has me whipping around.

“We were not,” I hiss, glaring at him.

“I mean, we would have been if you didn’t run away.” He grins. “Don’t you know by now, we love a good chase?” Shepherd steps forward. “Go on, Bunny. Run.” He licks his lips.

A wave of arousal and excitement shoots through me, but I shut it down fast.

“I’m not playing your little games.” I roll my eyes. I say that, yet a part of me is disappointed because I really, really want to play.

To think, I thought these men were terrifying. They’re just a bunch of teddy bears. Teddy bears that kill, but still.

Okay, maybe there are a few screws loose in this one’s head, but without all the blood and the adrenaline coursing through my veins, they’re not too bad.

Or maybe it’s the fact I know who they are. Not the whole bratva thing—not that I could forget that, because who would—but the connection they have to my past.

“So,” I start, looking between the three brothers. I want answers, and I want them now. “When were you going to tell me that we are not, in fact, strangers?”

“We’re not strangers,” Maverick says. “We’ve known you for years.”

“Well, we’ve known her, but she knew nothing about us. So I guess in a way we’re strangers to her,” Saint points out.

“Are you? Are you really though?” I ask. “Because I don’t think you are.” I cross my arms over my chest. All three sets of eyes drop to my tits. Boys. I roll my eyes and snap my fingers. “Eyes up here.”

Saint and Maverick’s gazes snap up, but Shepherd’s eyes stay where they are. Of course they do.

“Have you seen us around town?” Maverick asks, brows furrowing. “I thought we were more discreet than that.”

“No,” I snort. “Trust me, I’d remember seeing your faces if I had. No. The faces I know, the ones I remember, have changed. Grown. Matured.” I slowly look the three of them over, their faces from the photo in the forefront of my mind, melding with the men they are now. “You three are far from the boys I spent the summer with on the train tracks ten years ago.”

All three of them go stiff, the realization that I know hitting them.

“You’ve known who I was all this time, haven’t you?” I ask them, hurt that they’ve kept this from me for so long.