Chapter 25
Jameson
I WOKE UP EARLY enough to watch the sunlight kiss the face of a woman I didn’t know how to protect, though I wanted to with every fiber of my being. I had to shield her from my life, from danger, from me.
I should have been planning to let her go.
And yet, I knew as I stared at her dark curls against the white cotton sheets, the soft rise and fall of her pajamas, and the peace across her flawless face that I wasn’t going to. I was keeping Mia Darling.
I went to greet Cal in the study and told him, “That was a direct attack on all of us last night. All the women we care about.”
“I know,” he said solemnly.
“They’re done.”
“They’re working with someone else, Jameson. Most likely the cartels.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“Paolo backs a lot of companies.” Cal had moved the pieces into place, and he knew exactly where I was going with it.
“And we back more.”
“Bane’s not going to like it. Dimitri and Olive have a kid now. So, you know they want to keep their hands clean with the HEAT empire too.”
“Everyone gets dirty sometimes.” I slammed my hand down on the desk.
“You’ve lashed out for Franny. And now again for a woman?”
“My daughter needs—”
“Don’t start with the teacher bullshit.” My brother gave me a look. Then he combed a hand through his hair and grumbled, “I need a damn drink.”
“Me too.”
“Dad would have—”
“Dad’s not here. And you know why? Because his ass wasn’t loyal to the family, to the syndicate, or to even you.”
Pacing the room, Cal stopped to turn and look at me. “You think I don’t know that, brother? You think I don’t know what he did in the dark of the fucking night?”
His question held secrets, dancing in the shadows and mocking me because I couldn’t uncover them all. “He won’t ever do any of it again,” I ground out, frustrated that somehow my father had tainted not only my life but my brother’s too.
“Adamantem infractum manet,” he grumbled almost like it was a curse rather than a show of power. “We need the syndicate to understand what you’re doing, Jameson. Give them that so they don’t question your leadership.”
“They question my leadership, they shouldn’t be a part of—”
“I know,” he cut me off. “But lead with respect and transparency rather than fear, Jameson. You’ll get further than our old man ever did.”
I wanted to shout “no.” I wanted to lash out and lean into the rage.
But my brother was standing there asking me, and he was family.
The syndicate was family too. “Call a night under Seymour Hall, then. But let me be clear: I’m lashing out for all of us.
No one better mistake my leadership for emotion, Cal. They’ll regret it.”
He didn’t say much else to me but raised his eyebrows. He knew there were lines even he shouldn’t cross. Questioning me again and again was one of them.
I knew what I was doing.
I had everything under control. I made calls for a syndicate night before deciding that I needed a hearty breakfast. One I would make and carry up to Mia so we could eat together. I wasn’t acting out of emotion. It was just a nice fucking gesture.
The screams I heard from her room when I was just down the hallway were bloodcurdling. I felt them in my soul, bone chilling and full of fear. Mia hadn’t shared much with me, but I wasn’t about to ignore this and afford her the privacy she probably deserved.
Archer ran down the hall from the opposite end to meet me as we both got to her door.
“What the hell is happening?” I asked him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and winced because it was bruised from the punches I’d inflicted last night. Fucker. He should be happy he still had a job.
“She’s having nightmares again.” He had the damn audacity to step between me and her door.
“Again?” I knew my eyes held murder, but her screams had died down like the nightmare had passed. “Move, Archer.”
“Wait a second, Jameson. Fuck. She didn’t even want you knowing about them, and I realize you don’t want me in the way, man, but you’ve got to see I’m there for her like you asked me to be. She’s a friend.”
“I slept in her goddamn bed last night. So, I think knowing about them is warranted.”
He sighed. “I’m respecting her wishes.”
“Over your boss’s?”
“Yeah.” One second passed, and then another.
He held his damn place, knowing what it meant for our relationship.
He was choosing her over me, and a part of me respected him for it.
The other part I tried my best to suppress.
“I just want her comfortable here. Usually, she has a nightmare, I knock, she stumbles to the door like a groggy mess, apologizes for her appearance, and then we eat.”
“You eat breakfast with her?” I wanted to punch him again, but I knew Mia would be irate.
He cracked his knuckles, and then he met my stare head-on. “Why not?”
Because she wasn’t there for his entertainment, for one. A lot of the staff ate together though. I didn’t really have an excuse as to why he couldn’t. Except for the fact that he knew as well as I did that she was off-limits.
He smiled at me then. “You got something to say, boss, say it.” Now I knew he was goading me.
“Shut the fuck up,” I told him, and then opened Mia’s door. “You’re dismissed.”
Yet, Mia was frowning now as she woke up, groggy and rubbing her eyes. “Archer, Jameson?” She looked between us in question.
“Sorry, Mia. He heard them this time.” Archer shrugged and looked sheepish.
She got a damn “sorry,” but I didn’t? He hadn’t apologized for dancing with her, or anything from the night before. He was supposed to be dedicated to me, one of my guys.
It wasn’t my first concern though. I rushed to her side to hold her face in my hands. “You okay?”
She frowned, “You heard?”
“I did. You were screaming like—”
“I was always a sleep talker. Any bad experience, I’d have nightmares.
It’s just my subconscious acting out about the shooting.
” She shook her head like it wasn’t a big deal and patted my forearm before she stepped back and eyed me expectantly.
“Anyway, I’m happy you’re both here, because Jameson has something to say. ”
“What?” I frowned in confusion. I didn’t have anything to say while I considered what could make her bad dreams stop. I’d cuddle her. Tuck her in. Sit at her bedside all night. I was starting to sound obsessed even to myself, but I didn’t care. “Mia, we need to talk about your nightmares—”
“No. I’m fine. They’re getting better.” She yawned as if this were just another day in the neighborhood for her and everything was completely ordinary. “I think it’s a good time for you to tell Archer you’re sorry.”
“Me? Sorry? For what?” I was so genuinely confused, I took a step back.
“For his face.” She motioned toward Archer’s nose. “For how you acted last night.”
“Mia, don’t start,” I growled.
She pursed her lips before getting up to check the soil of each of her plants, pushing one finger into the dirt like she was completely comfortable and at home as she repeated, “Tell him you’re sorry, Jameson, or you won’t be sleeping in my bed ever again.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I didn’t want to fight with her first thing in the morning.
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” She set down the pitcher and crossed her arms over those cartoon pajamas to stare me down.
Archer even shook his head “no” like she should stop. At least he realized what she was asking. “This is my damn house, darling devil. I’ll sleep wherever the hell I want.”
“Oh? Then I guess I’ll be sleeping at Rosy’s or even with Malek, right, buddy?” She sat and cooed at my dog, who had trotted in to lay his ferocious head on her bed. Then, she just gave me the look she’d give a toddler ready to have another tantrum.
Who did she think she was talking to?
Probably the man scared enough of upsetting her to listen.