Savage whistles. “He went big and went home. Sounds like a threat to me and an invitation for me to string that wimp ass toad up by his toes and let him dangle awhile.”
“A toad?” Emma asks.
“A toad by his toe,” Savage agrees.
“O-kay,” Emma says, refocusing on me. “Aside from Savage being strange,” she says, “Randall seems to be afraid of whatever it is that he says you know and can use to hurt my family. Do you have any idea what that can be?”
“It has to be the DNA test,” I say. “They must think I knew about it before tonight.”
Emma shakes her head, rejecting that idea. “That doesn’t make any sense. Assuming that Hunter really was my father’s son, which we don’t know for certain, Hunter’s gone. He had a potential claim over our family money, not you. Aside from scandal, why does that matter now?”
Assuming that Hunter really was her father’s son.
I force myself to accept that possibility and therefore let my mind go where that takes me. Emma’s father was communicating with Hunter, even visiting him, but that didn’t start until my father died. In other words, her father showed interest in Hunter, once Hunter had the ability to give away the farm, so to speak.
“Jax?” Emma prods.
“The DNA test matters,” I say, snapping back to the present. “And I say this because it establishes a motive for murder. As for who it condemns in the eyes of the law—me or your brother or someone else—we don’t know, because we don’t know why your family wants the castle.” I lift my cup. “The castle is the root of all of this.”
“Or the symptom,” Savage suggests. “Speculating here, but we need a theory to work with. What if Hunter died before Emma’s father achieved a certain financial goal? Seems like the castle is a part of a contract not executed or some shit like that.”
“Agreed,” I say, wondering what kind of craziness Hunter had gotten himself, and us, into. “The sale of the castle must be a trigger point to terms inside an existing contract. It’s the only thing that makes sense but why the hell don’t I know about it?”
“Randall’s exact words,” Emma says, “were: The North family is our enemy. They can take everything from us. They can destroy us. Jax is using you. Seems to me,” she adds, “that he thinks you know why he and my brother want the castle.”
“I don’t think that statement says they think I already know. I think it says they’re terrified I’ll find out. And the only thing that makes me their enemy is Hunter’s murder.”
“You mean the only thing that makes you our enemy?” she asks. “I’m still a Knight, Jax.”
“You are not my enemy, Emma. You will never be my enemy, not unless you allow them to demonize me.”
“Bingo,” Savage says. “Team Knight needs to demonize you, before you marry her and end up running the whole two-company show.” He points at Emma. “Not that you couldn’t run it all. You could. I’m just saying that’s where I’m betting their heads are right now.”
There’s a heavy moment in the air when Emma blushes and cuts her stare, clearly reacting to the reference to me marrying her. She’s embarrassed or awkward, or perhaps both. I, on the other hand, considering my previous claim to eternal bachelorism, am not any of those things. She’s it for me.
“Whiskey’s in my blood, baby, not hotels,” I say, catching her hand, and when she looks at me, there’s a punch of awareness, between us as I add, “Just like you are. We are not about our families.”
“To them, we are,” she says. “And that means they’re going to keep coming at us as long as we’re together.”
“Then we need to get them under control.”
“And if we can’t?”
“We will.”
“Now. We have to do it now,” she says. “Because I have this nagging sensation in my gut is telling me someone else is going to get hurt. Randall threatened you. Actually, as much as I hate saying this, my brother threatened you, because Randall does nothing without my brother’s orders or agreement.”
She doesn’t believe her brother killed Hunter, but she’s fretting over his threats against me. Some part of Emma doubts Chance more than she wants to admit, but I don’t say that. I don’t think she’s ready to hear that right now.
“Unless he did,” Savage says, going a whole different direction with this. “What if Randall killed Hunter to protect Chance? A self-serving act, of course, because protecting Chance protects his own future.”
Emma grabs her mug and holds onto it, her grip a vise, like she just needs to hold onto something or she’ll fall. “I cannot believe we’re talking about Randall killing Hunter.”
“He and Jill were whispering off in a corner tonight, too,” Savage says, snatching up another pastry. “Interesting to think about those two together, isn’t it? They’re both riding the North and Knight coattails. What if they’ve decided they want a piece of the pie for themselves and have a plan to get it?”
“I’m not saying that Randall isn’t money-hungry,” Emma replies. “I’m not even saying he wouldn’t street fight for his future, but I guess I’m more of a romantic than you men are where Jill comes into play. Assuming she loved Hunter, what if Jill left me the note? Maybe she really is afraid for my safety?” Her brows furrow. “Although she is a bitch to me.”
Savage snorts. “Randall left that note.”
Emma scowls. “You want me to believe that he accused my brother, his best friend, his ticket to money and success, of killing Hunter?”
“That’s what guilty people do,” he explains. “They point the finger at themselves because they feel like that makes them look less guilty. It’s all about getting it out there, weathering the storm of attention, and the waiting for everyone to move on, to someone else. As a bonus, he probably thought he’d scare you away from Jax and push you closer to Chance, who you’d suddenly need to protect. Sisterly love and all.”
Emma considers him a moment and then looks at me. “I don’t know, Jax. It doesn’t feel right. Why not just tell me about the DNA test and accuse you directly?”
“Randall has something to gain in all of this that we don’t know about,” I say.
“Or something to lose,” Savage adds. “Like his freedom when we prove he killed Hunter.” He picks up his coffee cup. “My money is on Randall. He killed Hunter. Now, did your brother know about it, Emma? I don’t know. Is Jill in on it, too? I don’t know. But I’m going to take all of this speculation and get my team turning it into facts.”
Emma frowns, sets down her mug, and rounds the island, walking toward the living room with purpose in her steps. “Where are you going and what are you doing?” Savage asks.
She ignores him.
“Emma,” I call after her.
She ignores me.
I set my own mug down, and in a few quick steps, I catch her arm and turn her to face me. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have already done. I need my phone. And I need to call my brother.”
“And say what?” I challenge.
“I told you. Randall doesn’t operate without my brother’s approval. I need to know if my brother threatened us through him tonight. If that’s where we’re at, if we’re so deep in this that my own brother is sending his second-in-command to threaten me, I need to know. I need to know.”
“And if he did, Emma? Then what?”
“Then I’d say Randall’s statement is true. You might not know it, but you have the ability to destroy my family, and he believes you’ll do it. That’s a game-changer.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that.”
“It’s one thing to say that now,” she says, “it’s quite another to look the person in the eyes who took someone you love. You don’t know how you’ll react the day that happens. And it will. That day is coming, sooner than later.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Emma
Jax and I stand there in the kitchen with Savage at his back, the room shrinking around us, the
floor all but falling from beneath our feet. “I need to call Chance, Jax,” I repeat. “I need to hear his voice.”
“Wait,” he urges.
I shake my head in rejection. “No,” I say. “Not this time.”
His hands settle on my waist, possessive and firm, and he walks me backward, into the center bar area, walls encasing us, shielding us from Savage’s view. “I’m trying to protect you,” he says, his voice low, rough, his face close, like his body. “I’m trying to protect us.”
Us.
That word gets me like no other.
I’ve never been an “us,” not the way I am with Jax. I was never connected to York, never a part of him, and him me, the way Jax and I are connected to each other.
“I know you are,” I say, catching his shirt and holding on tightly, the way I feel like I’m holding on to him and Chance, but, somehow, I know it won’t be enough. I’m going to lose one of them, maybe both of them, and the very idea claws at me. “I’m doing the same. Think about it, Jax. This conversation started with you declaring it time to play the game, not get played. To do that, I need to hear my brother’s voice. I need to know what is really going on here. We need to know.”
He cups my face and tilts my gaze to his. “You’re not going to lose your brother. I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not ever going to do anything to make that happen.”
My heart squeezes because we both know that while he means that now, and I know that he really does, he might not feel the same later, not if my brother is connected to Hunter’s death. I catch his hand. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Don’t say that like I’m just talking. I’m not just talking, Emma. I told you, woman. You are what matters to me.”
“Hunter—”
“Is gone,” he supplies decisively. “And no, his murder can’t go unanswered, but Hunter wouldn’t want innocent people to pay for my revenge, either. You will not pay for my revenge. You will not lose your brother.”
“If he hurt Hunter, I already lost him. Because he was never the man I believed him to be. But I don’t think he’d do that. He’s always been my best friend, and I just—I need to know where he and I stand. I need to know who he really is. I need him to be the person I think he is. And I’ll know. I’ll know when I talk to him and then we’ll know.”
“Will you? Are you sure about that Emma?”
“I won’t let the sibling thing cloud my judgment if that’s what you’re worried about. Not after the threats Randall made. But I need to talk to Chance.”
He studies me a moment and gives a quick nod, his hands settling on my shoulders. “I get it. You know I get it.” His expression tightens. “Don’t tell him about the DNA test. I’m not as convinced as Savage that Randall left that test. I’m not even convinced it’s real. Let’s give Savage’s team time to find official record.”
“I agree,” I say quickly, realizing the source of a nagging feeling I’ve been battling now as we speak. “Randall wouldn’t know about the red dress. He might have heard about the castle ghost, I’m sure it was talked about during some of the Harvest event, but not your mother wearing red dresses. But if not Randall, who?”
“I don’t know, baby. Echo? Jill? One of the staff members who’s been here forever. We’re hyper-focused on Randall because he was here tonight acting like a fool. We’ve forgotten everyone else including Echo. Echo disappearing is not sitting well with me; that’s not his way.”
“I’m worried about Echo disappearing, too, but surely, it can’t be him who left that note. He wouldn’t point that finger at you, would he? He was a second father to you.”
“To Hunter,” he corrects. “In these latter years, he hasn’t been close to anyone but Hunter. And he once told me that men are fact-checkers while women sympathize and humanize.”
I frown at that. “How very sexist of him.”
“Agreed, but the point is that he’s a fact check kind of guy. Maybe he handed the facts to a humanizer.”
“Me,” I conclude, following where he’s going now.
“I’m reaching here, but that’s where we’re at. We’re speculating on all fronts. And it’s better than the alternative of not even trying.”
I touch the muscle flexing in his jaw. “You think he didn’t leave of his own free will.”
“The fact that Savage and his men can’t find him certainly highlights that prospect.”
My cellphone starts ringing on the counter next to us, and I jolt. “Clearly I’m on edge,” I say, reaching for it. “I guess we found my phone.”
“I wonder how it got here,” he teases, because, of course, it was while we were having sex, which is why his eyes are now warm and my cheeks hot.
“I wonder,” I reply, and in this little exchange, the weight on my shoulders becomes just a little lighter. That’s what this man does for me, and to me. He’s my escape, my shelter, and it’s both wonderful and terrifying to count on another person for such things. What if I get used to him and forget how to shelter myself?
My phone is no longer ringing, but I glance down to check the call log, only to have my stomach flutter at the name on the Caller ID. “It’s Chance,” I say, eyeing Jax. “And I have no idea why I’m suddenly nervous about talking to my own brother.”
“One word shared between you two, and your nerves will be gone. Call him back. You’ll see.” He winks, and disappears into the kitchen, offering me privacy I don’t expect. I blink after him, shocked that he’s not listening in. I mean he’d be within the norm of expectancy if he did. The man’s brother is dead and Randall threatened him, perhaps at my brother’s direction. Instead, he’s trusting me. He’s trusting us. He’s not trying to control me. He’s the only damn person in my life not trying to control me. My phone buzzes with a text message, and I glance down to find a text from Chance that reads: If you don’t call me back, I’ll assume you’re in danger and send help.
And there we are, my brother proving my point about the men in my life trying to control me. My nerves are gone. My anger is back.
Randall just threatened me, and he’s going to send help?
He’s the one about to need help.
I head for the front door with the intent of calling my brother back, trying to embrace the anger. I need it. I want it to puff up in my chest and push out the fear balling up there. Fear that Hunter’s death leads beyond my father straight to my brother. Fear that my brother covered up, or worse, participated in some way. And that he feels so little guilt that he continues to come after the castle and whatever treasure my father found here.
I stop at the front door and press my forehead to the wooden surface, my mind and body resisting this phone call I’d yearned for minutes before. But Jax’s vow to protect my bond with my brother despite the loss of his own brother, weighs heavily on me. He can’t keep that vow. I don’t expect him to keep it either. I feel as if I’m back in that tower, hanging over the ledge, about to fall to the rocks below.
I don’t know what I’ll do if I find out Chance killed Hunter.
Worse.
I don’t know what Jax will do.
I just know that if my brother killed Hunter, a part of me will die inside, but Jax is right. Hunter’s murder can’t go unanswered. And, I won’t stop Jax from being that answer.
CHAPTER NINE
Emma
Snagging a jacket from the coatrack by the door, I slip it on, only to have it swallow me whole, while my bare toes promise discomfort. Ignoring that problem for now, I manage to find my hands, and I’m just stepping onto the porch and into the cold ocean air when my cell starts ringing again. Smith, still sitting in one of the corner chairs, immediately stands up. I hold up my phone, and he motions to the stairs before heading in that direction. I don’t stop him. I appreciate the privacy, but the very fact that he’s here, that he needs to be here, garners my appreciation for his nearness. With no time to spare, I answer the call, but it’s too late. No worries there though. By the time I step to the railing,
it’s started all over. “Chance.”
“Was Randall there?” he demands.
“Yes,” I say, a biting understanding coming over me. He sounds angry. It feels genuine, but he didn’t just randomly decide to ask if Randall was here. He knows he was here. And he expected my call, that didn’t come after my encounter with Randall. Maybe that’s what he’s angry about. As Savage said, there was an expected reaction. This is the reply to not getting it. “You didn’t know?” I ask.
“No, I didn’t know. Do you think I’d send Randall to deal with Jax North when Jax North is in my sister’s bed?”
“In my life, Chance. He really matters to me. Whatever is going on, I need you to know how much.”
“For now. He’s in your life for now. I don’t want you to get hurt. You know how I feel about his motives.”
“You don’t want me to get hurt?” I ask incredulously. “Well, that isn’t how Randall made it sound. He threatened me and Jax.”
“He’s abrasive. I’m sure he didn’t mean—”
“He said, and this is a quote: ‘I don’t want you to end up dead’ This, right before he threatened to ‘hurt’ Jax if I wasn’t back home in seventy-two hours. So please, Chance, tell me how to interpret that if not as a threat?”
“Holy hell. Randall.” He murmurs under his breath. “What else?”
His anger is palpable, and with it comes the relief I’ve been looking for, right along with my assumption that Randall has gone rogue. Thank God. “That and a whole lot more, Chance. He also claimed that Jax can destroy our family, that he knows things about us to make it happen. What things?”
“Did you ask Jax?”
“I’m asking you.”
“You know this is personal to Randall. You’re personal to Randall. He wants you. Jax not only has you but Randall’s certain he’s using you to hurt us over some made-up bullshit about our family and his brother.”
That’s not an answer, and I don’t let him off that easily. “What made-up bullshit?”
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