Midnight Alias Excerpt:

I’m a Bastard

A rush of warmth spread through her. Oh, this was bad. It was obvious that whatever bond she and Trevor had formed in Colombia still existed. She’d hoped time would have severed it.

She cleared her throat, steering the discussion back to safe ground. “I’ll continue keeping my eyes and ears open, but Olivia needs to be watched. Morgan said Luke’s trying to get close to her?”

“Yeah. And the rest of us are still on the club.”

“Abby too? Morgan didn’t say.”

“She’s at the compound—mandatory break.”

Isabel grinned. “Abby’s not a fan of mandatory anything.”

He grinned back.

Six months ago, smiles from Trevor Callaghan appeared about as often as Halley’s Comet. Now they seemed readily available. God, he had changed. She wondered if he still struggled with the nightmares.

Their eyes met again, and a frustrated groan left his lips. “I don’t care if it’s in the past,” he blurted out. “I still need to apologize.”

“Trevor—”

“I acted like a total ass, all right? When you saved my life, I was so fucking pissed. I was ready to die, Isabel. I wanted to die.”

“I know.”

He let out a breath. “I lashed out at you and you didn’t deserve that.”

“No, but I understood where it was coming from.”

It had still hurt, though. That’s probably why his presence was so unsettling to her now. She was thirty-two years old and thought she’d reached a point in her life when nothing and no one could hurt her. Her family’s Mafia background had made her childhood unorthodox, not to mention unbearable, and she’d lived through too much heartache, too much bullshit. Truth was, her easygoing charm was nothing but a practiced facade. Inside she was hardened.

Trevor’s callous parting words and cold accusations had punched a hole in her shield, and it troubled her that he’d gotten close enough to be able to do that.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he confessed. “I wanted to call so many times and tell you how sorry I was, but I kept chickening out.”

That brought a wry smile to her lips. “I could’ve called too, but you told me to stay out of your life.”

“I’m a bastard.”

“You were a bastard,” she corrected. “You seem better now.”

“I am.” He swallowed again. “I let her go.”

She didn’t need to ask who he was referring to. Gina, his dead fiancée. The woman who’d haunted his dreams and given him a death wish. “That’s good,” she said quietly.

He cleared his throat. “Isabel—”

“I’ll keep digging at the club,” she said abruptly, getting to her feet. “And I think trying to befriend Olivia will be on my to-do list as well.”

The moment had passed. Trevor snapped back into business mode. “I want you to start checking in with me. Keep Morgan in the loop, but I want a check-in every four hours.”

“That seems a little excessive.”

His dark eyes met hers. “Humor me.”