I don't know what I expected love to be like. Violins playing, little cupids flying around with bow and arrows, hell maybe just cuddles in bed for hours. That wasn't what happened the following morning. Brack paced across the carpet of my living room with his cell to his ear listening to one of his men on the other end. He cast a glance or two my way. I could tell before the call ended that he would try his non-communication shit with me again.

I was right.

"What's the ...