Joshua followed him out from under the deck and around toward the back of the house. Elijah turned to face him, folding his arms. “Before I tell you the rest, just know: you laugh and I’m going to knock you out.”

Joshua grinned at him. “You can’t do that, man. You need me to disarm that bomb and help you make certain there aren’t any others.”

Elijah shook his head. “We fucked, and then Marco showed up and I shot him. I accused her of being part of a plot to divert attention so the hit man could get in and then I threw her out.” It was a watered-down version, but he guessed Joshua would get that.

Joshua looked shocked and then a slow smirk settled over his face. “You did that? You really are a jackass, aren’t you?”

“Shut up. I knew I shouldn’t tell you. It was bad enough admitting what I did to Drake. He was pissed, and I mean really pissed. For him it was all about controlling my leopard, and clearly I didn’t do that. My temper got the best of me.”

“Your temper or your dick?” Joshua sneered, and then burst out laughing. Hastily, he moved around Elijah and dove under the deck.

Elijah stood a moment, staring after his friend. Men had never dared tease him until he became part of Drake’s crew. He still felt a little stiff around the others. His upbringing had been serious. Once his parents were dead—murdered by his uncle—he spent his youth protecting his younger sister Rachel from his uncle. That had been very serious business. He’d also spent a number of years cementing his relationship with the men working for his uncle. Plotting against his uncle with two of his childhood friends in the organization. Finally, taking him down.

He wasn’t good at the softer things in life. He’d cared for one person—his sister—and he’d had to protect that relationship by acting as if she didn’t matter that much to him so his uncle wouldn’t know he had as much leverage. He was a hard man, and he got the job done however it needed doing. He’d done things out of necessity he wasn’t proud of. He’d done other things—illegal and dangerous—and never looked back.

He had been an enforcer. He was good with his fists. Fast. His leopard was savage and strong. He’d always wielded power, and he’d learned from his grandfather, father and uncle how to command a room just by walking into it. Silence worked for him. He didn’t explain himself. He didn’t apologize. He had a tendency to take what he wanted. More than anything he was always, always in control. Until Siena.