“I could kill him for touching you that way,” he rasped, his brain instantly conjuring the image he’d worked so hard to erase from his memory.
“Make me forget about it.” Her elegant throat worked and her eyes went soft as she opened her arms to him. “Make us both forget.”
She didn’t need to ask him twice. He bent and lifted her into his arms, the scent of her shampoo washing over him.
She pointed him in the right direction and he carried her down the dim hallway and through the door. He didn’t stop until he reached her bed, where he laid her gently down and stood back to look at her bathed in moonlight.
Her gaze was soft…sad as she looked back at him, and he knew why as well as she did.
This would be their last night together. At least for the foreseeable future. His mission was left unfinished and he’d already allowed her far too close to the fire. But tonight he would do as she asked.
Make them both forget.
And when tomorrow came? Well, then he would go back to life as he knew it. A life that revolved around vengeance.
Vengeance that suddenly didn’t seem nearly as sweet…
21
Sadie stared at the swirls of paint on the ceiling in the early morning light, playing the same game she and Clarissa used to play when they were young, finding shapes and faces in the random patterns. Her foot was asleep but she was loathe to move, certain that the second she did, Jake would wake up.
Once that happened, there was no question he'd be gone.
Last night had been intense. More intimate than ever, and she was pretty sure he was feeling as unnerved by it as she was. To this point, their bond had been tenuous at best. Two people tied together by a common goal. A goal that had come screeching to a halt the night before, because of her.
It was a tough pill to swallow. All his work, research, all that time, wasted…
She shook off the guilt and the beginnings of bone-deep fear that started seeping in at the realization that she was again in financial dire straits, and forced herself to search for something positive.
At least she could go back to her job at Roberto's to pay the rent and some of the smaller, most urgent bills. Alistair had no idea she was Sadie the Waitress, but she could switch her shifts just so she didn’t have to see him anymore just in case. Then, she’d get a second job and figure out how to make ends meet.
She just didn't have the stomach for anything else anymore.
It would be a rough couple months, but her life was pretty much a string of tough months of famine, made bearable by a few feasts. She'd have a bit of a pity party with too much ice cream and a good weeping session but, come Monday, she'd brush herself off and figure out where to go from here.
So what if she’d never get to pick a dream like people did sometimes, and go out to achieve it, or find that one thing she felt passionate about above all else to throw herself into? So long as she and Clarissa were able to stay together, she'd make it work like she always did, because she was a Leighton and that's what they did.
It was Jake she wasn't so sure about.
He shifted beside her and muttered softly in his sleep before rolling onto his back. Even in rest, he seemed distressed. Probably having nightmares. Alistair had taken everything from his family, and now Jake had been forced to take a giant step backward in his efforts to serve up a heaping plate of revenge. If he couldn’t find a way to bring down Hannigan, he’d never have a moment’s peace. Her heart ached for him, and for herself.
Because she had no doubt she was about to lose him over it.
"Hey there," she murmured, forcing a smile as he peered at her through sleepy eyes.
“Hey.”
She reached out a finger to stroke his bicep, tracing the dark angel tattoo high on his shoulder. She’d wondered about it the second time they’d made love, but had been afraid to ask. Now, with nothing else to lose and no promise of another opportunity in sight, she broached the question. “Did you get this for your dad?”
He nodded. “I did. A week after he passed.” His jaw tensed and his gaze locked with hers. “It’s an avenging angel, to remind me…”
Her stomach pitched and she looked away. Something told her he’d never needed the reminder, but she imagined it had been one more way of marrying himself to his cause.
And yet another reason for you to let go of that last little bit of hope, you idiot…
"You want some toast or something? Coffee?"
He shook his head and pushed himself up to sitting. "No…I can't stay." He seemed like he wanted to say more or offer an explanation, but then he snapped his mouth shut.
Her heart gave a thud but she forced a smile. "Okay, sure. No problem."
She could feel the hot rush of tears pooling to her eyes, but was helpless to stop them. So silly. He’d never promised her a thing, and had told her from the start that his life was dedicated to one thing and one thing only. Still, some sad, naive part of her had hoped that, just maybe…
She turned her face away, willing him to get out of the bed and go so she could cry in peace. She was naked but for her underwear and she wasn't about to cross the room in only a sheet.
"Are you okay?" he asked, the concern evident in his voice.
What to say to that? He was a good person. He had enough to deal with after last night, a lot of which was her fault to begin with. She wasn't about to add to his troubles by not knowing when to let go.
“Allergies," she lied, adding a loud sniffle for good measure.
"Sadie, I don't want to go. I have to go. You understand that, yeah?”
Any last ember of hope that he might not be breaking up with her went out, leaving her cold and empty.
"Did you ever think that maybe this is a sign?" She knew it was a Hail Mary. A total waste of breath, but she needed to at least say her piece.
"A sign of what?"
"Maybe it's time to call it quits. Let your brother do his job. This has cost you your entire adult life, Jake. When is enough, enough?"
"Now you sound like Mike," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. Avenging angel was right. He looked like one himself, naked, hair black as night, gray eyes blazing.
She wanted to stop. Willed herself to mind her own business, but the words kept coming.
"Is that a bad thing? Have you ever stopped to think that maybe he's right? Maybe you’re going about this whole thing the wrong way. Especially now, when the price of moving forward is so high?"
She didn’t mean just her, but his own sanity, even more time, and his relationship with his brother. Surely all that meant something?
His laugh was low and harsh. "Now a career criminal is going to lecture me on right and wrong. That's rich."
She winced, but pressed on, leaning forward to wrap her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest.
"Your brother already told you he’s close. If you’re still dirty dealing around Alistair Hannigan when the shit hits the fan, you could wind up exactly where your dad did. In prison. Do you think that's what he would want for you?"
He shoved a hand through his hair and glared at her. "He's dead, so I can't bloody well ask him what he wants, can I?" he muttered.
She drew back like he'd slapped her, and it felt like he had, but this was too important to let him derail her. Whether he chose her or not, this path was one that could only lead to pain for him.
"You knew him. You said he was your biggest inspiration. Do you think he would've wanted you to spend your whole life chasing after Hannigan instead of living?"
He blew out a long sigh. "What are you asking me to do, Sadie? To forget it? Give it up and walk away? Move on like nothing happened?" His grim smile sent a chill through her. “I can’t do that. It would haunt me until my dying day."
“Go, then.” She buried her face in her knees and bit her lip hard to hold back the tears. “Go do what you have to do. I hope it brings you peace.”
His gaze was tortured, which only made the knife in
her gut twist.
"I don’t know about that anymore. All I know is that I can’t stop now, and I can’t drag you down with me. Not after what happened last night. I won’t see you hurt by this…but I'll come back, Sadie,” he said softly, the hard edge in his voice gone now. “When this is over, I'll come back for you. I swear it."
He touched her arm, but she jerked away like he’d burned her.
"Don't."
He paused for a long beat. “Don’t swear it?"
"Don't come back.”
Her throat ached so much, she could barely speak, but she swallowed hard and lifted her head to face him through tear-filled eyes. “I can’t invest in this. I need to be focused on my family right now. Taking care of Clarissa is my only priority and I can't do that effectively if I get caught up in you, wondering if you're okay or when you’re coming back. It could be a month. Or a year. Or never. It’s not fair to ask me to wait for a tomorrow that might never come."
His face had gone stark white, his jaw clenching as he looked down at her. "It doesn't have to be this way," he started, but she held up a hand to stop him.
The second she left even a hint...a breath of space there, he was going to take it and in short order, he'd have her all turned around, changing her mind. He spent the past seven years as a con artist. That was what con artists did. She knew that better than anyone.
Her best bet was to shove him out the door and toss his clothes behind him. Even now, as she took in his stricken expression, she wanted to take it back. To tell him she'd sit and wait for him while he went off to find another way to get revenge on Alistair Hannigan. But she had her own promises to keep.
She stayed silent as he gathered his things and padded to the door, turning one last time to look at her. “Sadie, I’m so sorry…”
“Me too. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
She waited until the door closed behind him before letting the first tear fall.
22
Jake stared at the jewel-colored bottles behind the bar, seeing them but not really seeing them, an untouched rocks glass filled with scotch sweating in front of him.
Rafe’s email to Hannigan remained unanswered and, for the past week, he’d been desperate for some new plot...some brilliant plan to make Alistair pay for what he'd done.
What had happened to the dozens of detailed revenge schemes he’d spent years dreaming up? The ideas were plentiful, like chocolates in the Wonka world of his mind. His only issue had been trying to pick which ones to implement to cause the maximum amount of pain.
But ever since he'd left Sadie's apartment, all he could think about was the look on her face.
That should’ve been a catalyst. Now he had two axes to grind. One for his father, and one for Sadie. Instead, the burning anger that had roiled in his gut for the past seven years had dulled to a flicker and all he felt was lost.
There was no winning this game anymore. If he dropped out and let Alistair be, he would be betraying his father. If he didn’t and kept Sadie in his life while he played it, he would be putting her in danger.
Again.
There was no good solution, and it was eating away at him more every day.
"You want to order some food?" The bartender had given him a wide berth since he'd gotten there. Probably because he looked exactly how he felt.
Like a miserable prick.
"No, thanks."
"Actually, I'll take a menu," a familiar baritone voice said over his shoulder.
He turned and gave his brother a curt nod, already mentally exhausted from the conversation to come.
"Mikey."
Mike’s face gave nothing away as he took the stool next to Jake. He ignored Jake’s greeting, scanning the menu quickly.
"I'll take a pint, a cheeseburger, medium rare, extra onions and a side of fries." He finally shot a look Jake's way. "You sure you don't want anything?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
The bartender jotted down the order and strode away, leaving him to face his brother again. Something he didn't feel like doing in the least.
“I know why you’re here. I can see the cop all over your face.”
“And I can see the sad schmuck all over yours. What happened? You manage to lose that pretty woman of yours?”
Leave it to Mike to get right to the heart of it.
Jake took a sip of his watery drink and set the glass back on the bar before answering. “She knew the score when we got together.”
Mike’s smile was tinged with sadness as he sat back on his high-back barstool. “Does telling yourself that help you sleep at night?”
Jake thought about that question for a long time and, when he answered, it was honestly.
“Nope.”
In fact, he hadn’t been sleeping much at all. But instead of Alistair dominating his thoughts, it was Sadie he couldn’t stop thinking about. He was lost and rudderless, the taste for vengeance now bitter in his mouth. And the weight of that guilt --the guilt of betraying his father-- combined with the despair of losing her was a potent poison. One that was slowly killing him inside.
“Pop would hate to see you like this.”
Mike again, with a second direct hit in as many minutes, right where it hurt.
“Pop would hate that his life’s work was destroyed and his reputation was in tatters,” Jake snapped back.
Mike inclined his head. “Ay. But he would accept that fate if it was the price he had to pay for your happiness. When was the last time you felt happy, Jake?”
It didn’t take any thought at all. When he and Sadie had been together. Before that? He couldn’t recall.
He stayed silent.
“Our parents are both dead. You might as well be a walking zombie now that you’ve lost your woman. When does it end? Will you allow him to take everything from our family before this is over? Let me do my job. Let the police do what we’ve been trained to do. It’s the way Pop would’ve wanted it. He believed in the badge. Hell, he gave his life for it. Can you finally let it go, Jake?”
Mike’s voice echoed in his head long after he stopped speaking.
Let it go.
His mind rallied, instinctively searching for all those reasons he couldn’t…all the reasons he had to push forward, but every single one of them fell flat now.
Could he really do it? Could he honestly say that he’d done the best he could and believe that would’ve been enough for his father?
He took a mental stroll down memory lane and watched as the years zinged by, each marked with only events surrounding his obsession. Another arrest, or pile of money taken, or some perceived victory that felt hollow. No joyous celebrations with family. No home and hearth to go back to that made him feel whole. No video of sons or daughters taking first steps.
And as he looked into his future, it would only be more of the same. No adventures that brought him joy instead of emptiness. No laughter with the woman he loved.
No Sadie.
Could he let it go?
He wanted to. In fact, even as he thought of the end and maybe even the possibility of a new beginning, the smog that had been hanging over him since he’d left Sadie’s apartment began to lift. Everything suddenly seemed so clear.
Mike was right. It was time. Long past time to let it go. To march into the future, away from the misery and devastation Hannigan had caused and toward living his life. A life with Sadie.
The weight he’d been carrying slowly faded, like a yoke had been lifted off him, leaving behind only determination and hope.
“If I walk away from this, Mike, you’ve got to promise that you’re going to keep on with the case. Don’t let it consume you, but keep pressing. Not just for Pop, but because he needs to be stopped.”
Mike cocked his head and eyed Jake with a hard stare.
"Where were you Friday, brother?"
Jake shook his head slowly, confused by the shift in conversation. "I was still with Sadie," he answered honestly. “We saw you that mornin
g, remember? You barged into my house with food?”
"During the day, yes. Where were the two of you that night?"
He sounded like their father sometimes. So much, it made Jake's gut clench. Mike was a cop through and through, and a damned good one at that. Pop would've been so proud.
He shoved aside the thought and took a deep swallow of his drink. Fuck it. If he was going to move on, he’d do it all the way. No more lies.
"At Hannigan's house."
It felt good to be honest with Mike. He was so sick of the deception, sick of having to hide things from his own flesh and blood. Besides, nothing had happened that night, really, so he wasn’t putting Mike in a difficult spot. So what if he’d been an accessory to attempted cheating at cards where he’d ended up losing upwards of seventy thousand dollars? He wasn't up on all the laws in America, but he was pretty sure that wasn't a punishable crime.
Mike nodded slowly, clearly not surprised in the least by this revelation. "Doing what?”
"Playing poker."
"Did you win?"
How was that relevant? "Did I win? No, I didn't win. What are you on about, brother?"
“I just wanted to see if you would tell me the truth. See, because I already know what happened at Hannigan’s that night. Do you know how?”
Jake shook his head, mind flipping through every possible scenario. Had Sadie contacted Mike? Or had Alistair seriously contacted the police to file some bogus charges against them?
Shit, he hoped not. That would only mean trouble for Sadie.
“Nope. No clue.”
“Because I finally got clearance two weeks ago to tap his phone.” Mike turned and locked eyes with him. "We got 'em, Jake."
His pulse kicked hard as the words sank in. "Got 'em how?"
The cold smile that spread over his big brother’s face was one Jake had never seen before.
"Dead to rights. At first, it was garbage. We got nothing but vague double talk, and some nonsense about Sadie’s little stunt at the poker game. It was getting to the point that I was wondering if we'd wasted our time and any goodwill we had left with the particular judge who had finally given us the warrant. That there was no way, secure line or not, that Hannigan was ever going to give anything up. And then,” Mike shrugged and shook his head like he still couldn’t believe it himself, “he did."
The Family Jewels Page 18