Chapter 38
“Get out,” I tell Carlile, the head of my security team, as soon as I step into my apartment in New Jersey. “No one can know we’re here.”
He nods, looking ashamed.
“Do you need anything for you or for Jackie?”
I quickly scan the living room and confirm she’s not on the first floor.
“No. We’re probably leaving New York tomorrow. I want a surveillance team on my block in Manhattan twenty-four-seven. And make sure they check if any cameras caught that woman who went into the association.”
“I’ve already ordered that. They’re there now, disguised as a cleaning crew. As for the internal cameras, unfortunately, there aren’t any—or I should say, they’re useless to us. They record, but they don’t save.”
“And the external ones? Check the street cams around the association.”
“I’ll handle that myself.”
He starts toward the door, but stops halfway.
“Lucifer—”
I already know what he’s going to say and cut him off.
“No. Save your words. I trusted her to you. You’ll never get another chance to handle her security. When I said she wasn’t to be alone for a single minute, you should have taken it literally, not done whatever you thought was best. I give orders, and I expect them to be followed.”
He knows what I’m not saying. I don’t give second chances. Carlile’s been with me for many years, otherwise, I might kill him for the unnecessary risk she faced.
He’s earned my trust, which is hard to come by in our world. But when it comes to Jackie, he’ll never be responsible for her again.
“If you’d been inside, the person who tried to take her would be in our custody right now.”
“I know.”
He leaves, closing the door behind him.
On my way to the second floor, I send Beau a message, the only person I trust besides Jackie.
“Check Carlile for me. We’ll talk later.”
I don’t believe he’s involved with whoever’s trying to kill me. In a way, he saved her today by being outside to get her away fast. But I don’t build my life on assumptions, only on facts.
I take the stairs two at a time and head straight for the master suite, where I know she’ll be waiting. After our first night together, Jackie gathered her things and, without ceremony, moved into my room.
I wouldn’t win any awards for being a lighthearted man, but I have to admit I enjoy the way she comes at me, as if daring me: Go ahead, tell me to leave. I dare you.
I open the bedroom door and see her curled up on the bed, but she’s nothing like a fragile woman. She’s sitting up, knees pulled to her chest, eyes locked on the door as if expecting the enemy to walk in at any moment.
I can tell she’s cried because there’s redness around her eyes, but she stares at me, trying to project courage.
I don’t speak right away. I look at my woman sitting in my bed.
Now I see. Her place has always been by my side. But it wasn’t until that night at the club that I let go of the stupid idea that she was just a girl.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the words coming out with difficulty.
Without a doubt, it’s the first time I’ve ever apologized to anyone.
“It wasn’t your fault. I think she came to take me. I’ll tell you everything.”
“Not now. Come here.”
She doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t get up delicately like in some damn romance movie, she buries her face in my chest, crying. She jumps into my arms, expecting me to hold her. Wrapping her thighs around my waist, she takes my face in her hands and kisses me with the fury that only fear can bring.
It’s not a sexual kiss, but it’s primal. Born from the possibility of loss.
Lips mingled with teeth, a bite that makes sure I’m really here with her.
Jackie leaves my mouth to kiss my face, eyes, forehead, cheek, jaw.
“I didn’t cry,” she says.
“But you wanted to.”
“Yes, but I remembered what Martin used to say: Alston women are tough.”
“He talked a lot of shit. When I was a kid, I had this thing about never feeling anger because your brother said anger was weakness. It’s weakness if you don’t channel it right. But if you know where to put it, it’s liberating.”
Jackie presses her forehead to mine.
“Either way, I don’t feel like crying anymore. You’re here.”
“Carlile shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“It wasn’t his fault. I told him to wait outside.”
“He doesn’t take orders from you, only from me. And the only order I gave him was not to take his eyes off you. Because of your disobedience, you could be dead right now.”
“I don’t think she wanted to kill me. I think maybe… um… she wanted to take me.”
I walk to the bed with my woman still in my arms, kicking off my shoes on the way.
“Was she alone?” I ask as I sit down, leaning back against the headboard.
“Yes. One woman. I was finishing a call with Taylor when she came in. I got a little irritated because it was already closing time. But then I looked at her, and my gut told me something was off.”
“Why?”
“She was very well dressed. Designer clothes and bag. Expensive shoes. Completely out of place.”
“And then what happened?”
“She told me I should stop going after the father of her child.”
“What?”
“She said you were the father of her child, and I was destroying your family.”