After Raphael died and he was no longer a threat, it was too late. I was already in too deep. I’d killed a man. And besides, I may have pretended for a while, but there was no way I could fool myself. I was in love. I couldn’t have left Jamie if I’d tried. No one has ever made me feel so safe. So protected. It’s ironic. I’m in the most perilous, dangerous situation of my life here in New Mexico, and yet I’ve never felt safer. That’s because of him.
And even though he fucked up today (which he will pay for in spades), it’s because he refuses to let me get hurt. It’s infuriating, and it’s frustrating, especially since I’m meant to be prospecting for the club, but at the end of the day, his actions are because he loves me just as fiercely as I love him.
I leave his office. Pulling the weighty door closed behind me, I make my way back out into the bar and I know something is up as soon as I see the look on Fatty’s face. His expression is a wary one, his eyebrows half way to his hairline, his lips pressed together to form a tight line. His eyes flicker to his left, and I see the cause of his discomfort: Jamie and Cade sitting at the bar, each with a shot of whiskey in their hands. Jamie doesn’t say a word.
“Did you find him? Did you find my dad?” My heart is thrumming in my chest like a small, trapped bird.
Jamie and Cade exchange a tense look. Jamie says, “Yes, he is with Hector. We didn’t see him, though,” and the blood drains from my face.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Seems like such a stupid thing to ask, but I have to. I need to know. I need to look them both in the eye and see whether they think my father is alive and well, or if they think maybe it’s possible that he might already be beyond saving.
“Hector hasn’t done anything to him,” Cade says. His voice doesn’t waiver. I see no doubt in him. “He would have inferred that he had otherwise. He wouldn’t have been able to help himself.”
I look to Jamie—I need to hear him say the same thing, or my mind will be racing. He gives me a curt nod, pulling in a deep breath. “It’s true. He’s a smug motherfucker. He wouldn’t have been able to keep that to himself. As far as we know, Alan’s unharmed.”
As far as we know. That’s hardly a reassuring statement, but it will have to do.
“I see you were checking out the office,” Jamie says. His eyes lock onto me as he raises his rocks glass to his mouth and takes a large swig. He remains fixed on me as he swallows.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap. “You have absolutely no right.”
He pouts a little. “I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t need to.” Cade manfully tries to hide the smile I can see hovering at the corners of his mouth, but he fails miserably. I press my palms down on the countertop, leaning toward them both. “And you can quit that, too. I know you played a part in what he did.”
Cade holds up his hands. “I fucking didn’t. That’s all on him.”
Jamie’s mouth drops open. “Traitor.”
“You knew he was going to do it, so you were complicit. That’s exactly the same as participating, so you’re both in the dog house.”
“Very unfair. I would have let you come with us,” Cade says. Jamie makes a face, demonstrating exactly what he thinks of that statement.
“You’re so full of fucking shit. Would you have let Laura come? No. Fucking. Way.”
As always when someone mentions Cade’s sister, the atmosphere instantly shifts. Jamie tenses, knowing he’s brought up a touchy subject, and Cade attempts to appear unaffected. He is affected, though. For all the money the club has, for all the time and all of the resources they’ve invested looking, they haven’t even come close to finding Laura. It’s been years now. So much time has passed that I doubt either one of these men believes they’re going to find her again, and yet they refuse to stop looking.
My stomach twists at the thought. Just like Laura, I am someone’s sister. Is Sloane looking for me, the same way Cade is looking for Laura? Does she shut down every time someone mentions my name? God. I feel like my insides are being ripped out. I don’t want to think about this now. I can’t. I have to deal with my Jamie situation. I duck underneath the bar hatch so I can walk up behind my boyfriend and whisper in his ear. Jamie bows his head as he listens. I try not to let the smell of him distract me from what I want to say—a really difficult feat to accomplish, since he smells divine.
“If you ever drug me again, if you ever lock me away again…if you ever try and prevent me from doing something I want or need to do by force…”
“You’ll cut my balls off?” he whispers.