by Emilia Finn
He’s a real estate agent.
“He’s a real estate agent! Ain’t that just a bitch?”
I tuck the wad of images back into the envelope and breathe through the feral rage simmering in my blood. I don’t even know who I’m mad at.
Unbelievably, I don’t even think I’m mad at Jess. I’m hurt that she didn’t tell the truth, but I’m not mad she’s looking at regular guys. Not guys like me. Not guys like him, either, if he’s the one hurting her at the club.
I’ll deal with him before I die.
I have a list of men who’ll be coming to Hell with me, and that man, the one hurting the girl who has my heart, will die.
She can try again. With someone else. Someone better.
Not in that club.
“You think you hurt me?” I turn to him when I know I have my voice under control. When my face shows passivity, rather than murder. “You think these hurt me, but they don’t. She’s a warm pussy. She’s pretty, but I ain’t marrying her. You went to the wrong man and you showed your hand too soon. I’m just the side piece. You should’ve gotten pictures of me and her, and shown him. You could’ve hurt him.”
“I don’t know about that, Bishop. I think I broke away some of your armor. I’ve been in this business longer than you. I know what we need to do to be unreachable. But I found your weakness.”
“You found nothing.”
“Then why do your hands shake? Why does your heart race?”
“Because you annoy the fuck outta me.”
“And the girl?”
“Is none of my business.” Lies! All lies. “And she’s sure as shit none of yours.”
His laughter echoes in the deserted parking space. Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulls out one final image. “I knew you’d say that. So I made sure to introduce myself to your girl. Turns out, the guy, her guy, doesn’t care so much for exclusivity. It took a thousand bucks and a handshake, and I had my cock inside her, too.”
I flip the image and come face-to-face with Jess bent over a table, and Flynn – this asshole right beside me – fucking her from behind.
I know that room.
I know that table.
And the date stamp says yesterday afternoon. A couple hours before I picked her up from work to head back over to the range.
She said she was at work.
I was at the club.
And so was she.
Just like the billion times I preached it this week, muscle memory brings my hand up. The heavy Glock in my grasp is just an extension of my arm, and the pulse of my finger on the trigger goes unfelt until Flynn’s brain splatters on the picnic table and gray matter splashes onto the dusty concrete below us.
He didn’t see it coming.
His eyes remain open, but he’ll never touch what’s mine again.
“That’s for Jess.”
“Hand’s up!” Alex Turner and his deputies geared up in full tactical uniform sprint from every dark corner that surrounds the table I sit on. “Put your hands up, Bishop!” Alex points his weapon at my head as surely as I pointed mine at Flynn’s. “I said put your hands up!”
27
Jess
Almost An Admission
I lie in the dark and concentrate on the soft breeze that whispers through the open window. I should feel comfortable with Britt’s dog snoring at my feet and my sister lying beside me with her fingers linked with mine.
But my heart won’t stop slamming against my chest.
I’m worried.
I’m sick to my stomach, because men that I love are out tonight, and they’re on opposing sides of the law.
Kane’s working, and Alex is there to arrest him.
But if there’s anything I know about Kane, it’s that he will not go down without a fight.
The problem is, neither will Alex or Oz.
It’s a fucking mess, and there’s nothing I can do except lie in bed with my sister and pretend the silence is normal and okay.
No one has truly asked why I’m at Britt’s tonight. No one knows my connection to Kane, so it’s just a coincidence that I wanted to sleep at Alex’s little sister’s house. Everyone assumes I’m here for girl’s night, despite the fact I arrived late and went straight to bed.
We’re family, and being rude is allowed. We’re used to it now.
Tomorrow. I’ll talk to my family tomorrow, once I know the fate of the man working at a dark and dingy truck stop right now.
It’s surreal, knowing he’s there, hoping he’s safe and well, but also knowing Alex and Oz are on their way. Knowing they intend to arrest him.
It’s dreamlike, standing in the middle. Like I’m the flag girl in the hot lane, but I want both cars to win.
Laine’s quiet sniffles bring my thoughts crashing back to this dark room. Back to our linked fingers. Back to my heart thundering with worry.
When she sniffles a second time, I frown. “Why are you sleeping at Britt’s tonight?” No one has asked me, but I don’t afford my sister the same courtesy. I’m a lawyer, I’m more nosy than her, and I need a distraction. “What are you doing here?”
With a shrug, she brushes her long hair back and tangles her feet with mine. We’ve done this a billion times over our life. “I heard you were staying here.” She shrugs a second time. A nervous, jerky twitch. “I really missed you. I really missed home, so I followed you.”
“But you’re never home anymore.” Minty toothpaste and strawberry shampoo permeate the air around us. “You got a boyfriend and now you’re too busy for us.” I smile and pray she doesn’t hear the way my voice shakes as I imagine what’s happening with Kane right now. Is he okay? Is he safe?
Is Alex okay?
“Everyone kinda hates Graham. You know that, right?” I laugh quietly. “He takes up all of your attention, and we’re a bunch of jealous fools.”
“Yeah.” Her soft laugh comes out almost choked, nervous, restless. “He’s… consuming.”
“But you’re back now, right? We went skinny dipping last month, and now you’re here.”
“He got so mad that I ditched the wedding and ran out with you guys.”
“Mad schmad.” I wave it off and stroke her finger.
Please God, I hope he doesn’t put a ring there anytime soon.
She hasn’t been the same since he came along. Consuming is an understatement. She was the crazy one in our group; the loud one, the wild one. Now she’s basically shacked up with a real estate agent and keeps saying she can’t come to family dinner.
Somehow, the twin who preferred Babysitter Clubs books and solitude has become the wild, loud, crazy sister. And that just doesn’t come naturally to me. “Boys get mad all the time, Lainie. But he’ll get over it. You’re a grown ass woman. You’re not a pet. And we’re your sisters. You don’t need permission to hang out with your sisters.”
Like a week-long sort-of-relationship makes me an expert on the subject, I think of Kane. I think of his temper and that twitching lip. Making him mad has become a game, and making him bite off a curse that still turns into a string of swears just before he uses my body in the most delicious way has become my new favorite hobby.
When Kane is mad, Kane is at his best.
I met him a little more than a week ago, and yet, my heart is invested.
Stupid silly heart.
Our relationship has been at the tip of an adrenaline surge since the moment we met. We haven’t had a single day of normal, so everything we feel, everything we do, everything we are is tinged with desperation and adrenaline and what ifs.
What if this is all we get?
What if he gets hurt for Abel?
What if he never comes back to me?
What if we never get to experience the normal phase of life?
But worst of all, what if Alex’s raid tonight nets Kane and sends him to prison? A part of me hopes that’s exactly what happens. Arrested and locked up by Alex will keep Kane safe.
I would fight for him.
I’d fight for his freedom.
I’d rather fight my brother for his freedom than fight Abel.
But the other part of me knows Kane won’t go. He said he’d die first, and I take his words literally. Everything he does is literal, to the point, and scarily accurate. He would provoke my brother and force a bullet into his body before he allows Alex to escort him to the cruiser.
Oh my God.
“Yeah, well…” Laine’s shrug scares me from my thoughts and back to reality. She brings my palm closer to her face. Pressing the tips of my fingers against her plump lips – lips exactly the same as mine – she sniffles and brings my worry full circle. “Graham’s mad is different. Sometimes it’s… hard to live with.”
“How do you mean?” When the angle is just right, I catch sight of her tear-filled blue eyes in the moonlight. “Hey.” Sitting up, I pull my sister up with rough hands. “Why are you crying, Laine? What do you mean?”
Her breath hitches and breaks my heart. “Jessie…” Cupping her mouth, she catches her cry and muffles the sound. The giant dog at the end of the bed pops her head up with curiosity. “I just… I think I need to break up with Graham.”
“And you’re sad? Because he’s a douche anyway. No one likes him.”
She chokes on a watery laugh and wipes tears from her cheek. “Yeah. He’s a bit of a douche. I think I need to leave him.”
“So it’s done. Hey.” I slide my palm across her cheek and wipe away the torrent of tears. “It’s done. You said the magic words, so now it’s done. You broke up.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Yes, it is, Laine.” I take her hands. “Yes, it is. It’s that easy. You still live at the apartment. Don’t even bother going back to his place. I’ll replace your shampoo or undies or whatever you left there. You’re not married, so we have no legal mess to unjumble. You’re not pregnant, so we– Oh my God! You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No!” She smacks my thigh. “I’m not pregnant. But Graham’s… he won’t be happy that I want to leave. He’ll be mad.”
“Who cares if he’s mad? He’s allowed to have a tantrum, but he can do it on his side of town. You can stay on ours. Do you want him dead? Because I might know someone…”
“Ha.” She lets out a nervous laugh and misses the truth in my words.
I don’t even recognize myself in the easy way I threaten someone’s life. It’s not the same as when I threaten Luc with a frying pan to the head. That’s a joke. He might cop the pan, but I wouldn’t actually kill him. But now, frying pan in hand, everything feels different. I have more clarity. Everything is much more real.
And I meant what I said.
“Laine… You need to leave him. If he makes you unhappy, leave. You’re sitting on Brat’s spare bed and crying, that means he makes you unhappy. Do you remember when Jack pissed Britt off? You gave her this giant speech about how men are supposed to treat women, and how she deserves more than that, and then you went on to lie and tell him she was dating Luc?”
With a soft giggle, she nods. “I remember. I was so mean to him.”
“Right. Find that girl again! Find that sass, break up with the McDouche, then come back to family dinner.”
I make it sound so easy. I make it sound like I’ll be at that dinner.
I’m pretty sure Kane will be facing felony charges any day now.
Jesus, who am I to give relationship advice? My sort-of-boyfriend is a criminal. He’s a bad man. He hurts people.
But he’d never hurt me.
“There’s more, Jess.” She nervously clears her throat. “There’s heaps more. Graham… he…”
I spin when my phone dings on the bedside table. Snatching it up, I scramble to unlock it – using Kane’s birthday as the password; a fun little change that he implemented without telling me – and rush to the text screen to find a message.
Not from Kane, but from Jules.
Jules: It’s done. They have two men in custody and one in a body bag.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
My sister and her relationship go forgotten as my fingers scramble over my screen to reply.
Me: Who?
Jules: Bishop, Flynn, Chadwick. Wanna come with me tomorrow to talk to them?
Me: Tomorrow?
Jules: Yeah. I’m not going tonight. Bishop’s in the cage. And Chad’s at the hospital.
A sob tears up my throat.
Me: Who’s in the bag?
Jules: Flynn. Bishop executed him point blank.
I drop my head into my hands and push my overworked brain to the limits. Think! Think!
Me: Why? Who hurt Chad?
I don’t even know who Chad is.
Jules: Bishop did both guys. Alex saw. I don’t know why. I don’t particularly care. I love when the bad guys take each other out. Saves the good guys time and trouble.
Do I know how to organize a prison break? Do I know how to get past Alex in his own station? Do I want to aid in a prison break?
Me: What about Hayes?
Jules: He wasn’t there. He’s smart, but we’ll get his guys to talk.
Me: Will the DA negotiate? Leniency for information…
Will Kane listen when I ask him to sell Abel out?
Jules: I know you hate that, Jess. I know you hate the DA, but it’s her job. If Chad wants to nark on Bishop, we’ll take it. If Bishop wants to toss Abel under the bus, we’ll take that, too. Abel’s organization is fracturing. One of them is tearing the station apart. The other’s unconscious and riddled with holes. Now it’s a race to who squeals first. First one to talk gets the deal, the other one goes to prison.
Me: Riddled with holes?
Jules: Bullet wounds. Three of them.
Me: Alex shot him?
Jules: No. Bishop did. Chad was sneaking up on the group. Bishop saw a threat, Bishop dealt with it. Alex saw it happen with his own eyes.
Me: And the drugs?
Jules: Nowhere in sight. We were given a bullshit tip. But we still got his men, so now we have bargaining chips. Bishop has the most to lose, considering he shot two guys in front of the cops. Tomorrow, we’ll go in and talk to him. I’ll bat my lashes and try to convince him I hold the world’s treasures.
For anyone else in the world, that would work. For any other criminal, I’d laugh and tell her to go for it. But he’s mine, and he won’t respond to her flattery.
Me: Let me do it. Let me talk to him.
Jules: That’ll work, too. You looking to earn your wings, pilot?
Me: Yeah, something like that.
Five minutes later, several more back and forth texts, and one long goodbye as Jules declares Alex just walked in the door, I toss my phone into my handbag and spin to my silent sister. “I have to go out.”
“Out?” She sits up in bed as I jump up and pull jeans on. “It’s the middle of the night, Jess. Where are you going?
“I have to work. Don’t tell Britt I snuck out. I’ll be back by breakfast.”
“You can’t sneak out! This place is wired up more than a supermax prison. They have cameras everywhere. They’ll know as soon as the gates open.”
I pull a shirt over my head and flip my hair back into a ponytail. “I have work to do. If the alarms go off, you can tell them it’s just me.” Sitting on the end of the bed, I pull socks on and begin unknotting the laces on my shoes. “Unless you wanna come? We haven’t had an adventure in forever.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the police station. They took one of my people into custody tonight. You can sit in the office while I go down to the cage to talk.” No way in hell is she coming all the way and listening to us. “You can talk to whoever’s on shift.” I smack her foot. “Hurry. Get your clothes on, Baby. It’s time to ride.”
She tosses the covers back with a roll of her eyes and steps into jeans similar to mine. “You need to stop calling me Baby.”
“You are the baby! You’re the youngest.”
�
�By eleven minutes! It’s time you let that little claim to fame go. No one cares that you slid out of mom’s hooch eleven minutes earlier than I did.”
I snatch up my purse and turn toward my beautiful sister. I find it amazing I can describe her as beautiful, but not say the same things to myself in the mirror. I don’t think I’m ugly or anything. Just unremarkable.
But Kane calls me beautiful…
I tap her nose. “I care. Mom’s vagina cares. Everyone cares, including you, which is why you get so defensive about it. Let’s go. I wanna talk to the arresting officers.”
But not Alex.
28
Kane
Fuck Me Up
It’s the middle of the night, silent, but for the breeze outside and the tree branch that scrapes along the roof. I stand by the bars when Jess’ voice filters down the hall from the front offices.
Each word she speaks settles deep in my chest and warms me despite the cold cell I’m locked in.
Such a pretty voice.
So worthy of killing a man for.
Her presence, her nearness, releases a coil in my belly that wound up and took root the second Flynn gave me an envelope full of photos.
The drop was a bust. Everything was a fake, and the second the cops arrived and Chad slid out of the shadows, the feeling that Jess was involved somehow settled in my gut and almost made me sick. I wondered if Abel sent me to the truck stop as a distraction.
While I was looking left, he could snatch Jess and hurt her on my right.
But now I hear her voice.
She’s safe. She’s near me. And she’s sister to a bunch of cops.
I have work to do. Men to kill. A real-estate agent to fuck up. And a woman to get help.
And it all needs to be done before I’m gone.
Soon.
Soft sneakers on the concrete floor move closer and make my heart slam against my chest. For the first time since we met, I’m nervous to see her. For the last time ever, I’ll warn her off and send her on her way.