Chapter 33
Hemlock
I know I shouldn't be pacing. It gives too much away, but I can't seem to stop the movement across the room before turning and walking in the other direction.
Jericho is sitting at the table despite it being close to three in the morning. I don't know where Jersey is. I'm just grateful the bastard isn't here to witness my lunacy.
The man hasn't said a word to me, and I'm grateful that he's here in case I really lose my shit. I can't seem to control my choices these days.
"Maybe a shot of whiskey?" Jericho offers on my walk back in his direction. Those are the first words he has said to me since he joined me here over half an hour ago.
"Liquor makes me fucking crazy," I say wondering just how much of a confession that actually is.
"It's liquor that does it?" he asks, pointing to my continuously moving feet.
I want to snarl in his direction, but instead a huff of laughter escapes my lips. I think I’m starting to like the man, which is really going to make getting the boot from this organization suck.
Finding people I can rely on and trust has been a lifelong battle for me.
"Can someone fucking explain to me why Zara Hailey is back in the goddamned basement? "
Jericho chuckles himself when Ace storms into the room, and the laughter tells me although we hadn't discussed it, he knew she was down there from the moment he walked into the room.
"Explain," Ace demands as he steps in front of me, preventing my last lap across the room.
"I wouldn't suggest--" Jericho begins, but his words fall away when I glare down at Ace.
He's not a small guy by any means, but I'm massive, my body almost as big as my hatred for nearly everything in this world.
"She was in danger."
"You're the danger to her," Ace argues, and I barely register the scrape of Jericho's stool as he stands and begins to make his way to us as if he's already predicting me beating this shit out of Ace.
"I put her in danger," I agree. "Now it's up to me to keep her out of it."
"She was less than a handful of hours from getting out of the fucking state," he says, and it shouldn't be any surprise to me that the man has also been keeping tabs on her. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"
I don't justify the question with an answer, but he might not be far from the truth. Still, I've made up my mind and there's nothing he nor anyone else can do about it.
"You can't hold her prisoner," Ace says, and although his words make complete sense, I still can't see myself letting her go. "That would make you the same type of man that we're trying to defeat."
Ace stands a little taller, our size difference not fazing him in the slightest. I have no doubt he's probably taken down men bigger than me, but I don't fear him either.
I dart my eyes to Jericho, needing to determine whose side he's on, but he looks a little bored standing a few feet away although it was worry that brought him that close in the first place.
"What would you do?" I growl.
"I wouldn't have fucking fallen for my goddamned mark," Ace yells, his face turning red as he lifts onto the tips of his toes so he can get closer to looking me dead in the eyes.
I shove at his chest, needing the whiskey I can smell on his breath out of my face.
"No," Jericho snaps, putting a hand on each of our chests when Ace tries to get right back in my face. "That isn't going to solve anything."
"You're just like Adair," Ace snaps.
"The fuck I am," I snap back.
"Not even close," Jericho adds.
"I'm not going to fucking sell her or share or make her do awful fucking things," I growl, my temper almost to the point where the blackness encroaches, and I know if it gets to that point I won't be able to pull myself back. The cards will just have to fall, and it could leave us all covered in blood with no way back to anything resembling civilized people. I know Ace will do what he feels he needs to do to neutralize this situation. "I'm protecting her."
Instead of staying in this faceoff, Ace spins and turns in the direction of the basement, and I swear I'll rip him limb from limb if he thinks he'll get within a few feet of her.
I'm on his tail as he descends the stairs, and I manage to position myself between him and the door, pulling my handgun from my waistband and holding it to my side.
"Over my dead body," I growl.
"For fuck's sake," Jericho says as he makes it to the bottom of the staircase, seeing my puffed-up chest, gun at my side, and rage in my eyes.
"Are you going to shoot me if I try to set her free?" Ace asks. "Think about it, Pax. How does that make you any different from Adair?"
The comparison makes my skin crawl, and I know there's a part of me that if I weren't wound so fucking tight right now that I might be able to listen to reason, but we stepped over that line when he got in my face upstairs .
"If you want her, you'll have to go through me," I hiss, my thumb pulling back the hammer on the gun.
The sound's very telling, and I see the waver in his eyes as he looks at me with clear disappointment in his eyes.
"Pax, I think--"
"She's fucking mine. You'll never fucking have her."
"Hey, bud," Jericho says, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he inches closer. "No one's trying to take her from you. We just want to make sure she's safe."
I hear the de-escalation in his tone, and I know how the tactic is supposed to work. I also know that they want me to let my guard down so they can manipulate this situation to how they want it to be.
"I'd never fucking hurt her," I snap, thinking both of them are idiots for even implying it.
If I were standing on the outside of this, I could understand their position. I can see how insane this is. I went to this woman's house in the middle of the night and literally kidnapped her. I picked her up off the sofa kicking and screaming into my palm and carried her out to her car.
She seemed more irritated than scared when she got a look at my face in the moonlight, but by the time we got to the cabin, I didn't have to make threats or anything. She walked into this place of her own accord. There was no fucking gun at her temple or a threat on my lips.
I know it doesn't necessarily mean she wants to be here, but she isn't screaming or banging on the door, demanding she be set free either.
"Stay the fuck away from both of us," I say, making eye contact with both of them before reaching behind my back and finding the doorknob. "Don't put me in a position where I have to fucking hurt one of you."
I shove the door open and step inside, well aware when I close the door that they could easily lock us inside. But once we're sheltered inside with the door closed, I never hear the lock slide into place.
"Do you ever plan on telling me just what the fuck is going on?"
I turn, keeping the door on my right where I can defend us if need be, putting her on my left.
"Do you have any idea how much trouble I'm in?" I ask, my heart slowing as I look at her.
I felt instant relief from the chaos bouncing around inside of me the second I pulled into her driveway, and that battle calmed with every step in her direction.
"Does it have anything to do with that?" she asks, pointing at the gun.
She sounds more annoyed than scared.
"Put it away before you accidentally shoot me."
"I would never," I growl, stepping forward, but she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me as if she's giving me a moment to rethink my choices. "I can't. I need to protect us."
"Your friends aren't going to hurt me."
"They aren't my friends," I argue.
"They made sure you lived when you were stabbed. Enemies don't do that. Put the damn gun down and tell me what's going on."
"You'll think I'm crazy."
Surprisingly, she doesn't lift her eyebrows or scoff like the train already left the station on that idea.