Chapter 6
Leilani
This isn’t going according to plan... which is unsurprising, considering the plan was weak at best, devised on the fly when I overheard Blaze telling Jax about visiting Carter Willard.
I didn’t know what the meeting was about, but it didn’t matter. I heard Willard and my heart soared, a way out of this elaborate nightmare materializing before my eyes.
I should’ve planned better, though. I should’ve put my ear against the door and listened to Jax and Blaze properly. Then I’d know they’re working with Carter.
And that means Octavius is involved, since Noretto answers to him directly...
But I didn’t listen. I didn’t think things through. I simply acted and not well...
My memory of Carter is somewhat blurred around the edges. I haven’t seen him in years, and I spent almost three of those living in an alternate, nightmarish dimension.
Everything that happened before the night my stepmother was killed seems distant, barely accessible, but one thing I thought I knew for sure: Carter’s a sucker for a damsel in distress.
Growing up, all Aalyiah had to do was tear up and she’d get her way with him. The smaller, more vulnerable she looked, the harder Carter’s instinct kicked in. He used to crawl out of his skin to bring her smile back.
I could do that. Easily.
Years ago or not, Carter’s a friend. He wouldn’t turn the other way if I acted scared of Jax, right?
Wrong.
When Carter first saw me at Scarlett, I thought I had him. His expression whipped into one of concern. Then neutralized once Jax slid close, marking his territory.
Whatever deal they have, whatever business binds them, it shut Carter down.
Mafia men and their fucking code of honor.
Don’t touch what another man calls his.
Don’t interfere.
I’m not anyone’s woman, but Jax played his role well, sinking his fingers into my side like I was his possession.
So I doubled down.
I widened my eyes, made my lashes tremble, even flinched when Jax brushed too close. I mimicked Aalyiah’s acting tactics. I thought Carter would react the same way he always had.
The hope that ballooned when I heard about coming to Columbus fizzled out when Carter focused on the conversation, ignoring my theatrics.
Out of all the men I’ve faced, Jax is the one I fear least, so that flinch was a mighty exaggeration.
Same as my doe eyes and zipped lips. My only genuine physical reaction was the trembling.
I couldn’t stay still, but it wasn’t from fear.
It was a rage so fierce I thought I’d spontaneously combust.
Rage that Carter ignored me.
Rage that I had to play prey when I wanted to bare my teeth.
Thankfully, not all was lost. A certain someone paid attention and looked murderous whenever he could tear his eyes away from me to glare at Jax.
Koby Maddox.
Jackpot.
I immediately changed my plan from get Carter’s help to get Koby’s help. He was already seething... all he needed was fuel.
I watched him carefully, judging which of my perfectly rehearsed behaviors ruffled his feathers most, and then I deployed the scared little kitten persona.
I let my shoulders tighten when Jax leaned close.
Let my body shrink back, let my eyes flick—wide and pleading—in Koby’s direction.
Every signal was deliberate. A performance I despised, but one that worked.
His jaw locked, his hand twitched toward his glass like it was an anchor. He took the bait. His attention hardly veered from me the whole time we were at Scarlett. He stared like he wanted to communicate telepathically with me.
And all the while, I used my body language to convey one simple message: help me.
A window of opportunity was all I needed. Someone bigger and scarier than Jax. I half hoped Koby would storm out of the back office when Jax shoved his tongue down my throat, grunting a quiet: behave or you’re going straight back to Florida.
I behaved, acting all the same. I kept myself wound up tight, discomfort rolling off me in waves... but no one came to my rescue that night nor the week after.
Jax got the sharp end of my rage stick in retribution.
Now, having made it into Carter’s home, standing behind Koby, I’m seriously questioning my life choices and this shitty one-step plan: get away from Jax at all cost.
Mission accomplished... now what?
The victory tastes sour. I didn’t think about the after. I had no escape plan. I didn’t consider the implications, connections, or loyalties.
Koby might’ve plucked me out of a bad situation, but Carter’s house is another cage, just with prettier walls. Koby’s intervention, however violent and furious, doesn’t equate to safety. All I’ve earned is a change of scenery.
“Please,” he says, staring at Carter. “I need a safe house.”
No... no, no, no, no, no.
Not locked up away from other people in another isolated building. No way in hell.
I should’ve considered my options instead of pulling a half-thought-out plan from the ether while surrounded by men with guns.
I look at Carter, at the concern lining his forehead whenever his eyes sweep over my bruised cheek. There’s fury beneath his cool facade, the same fury I saw whenever Aalyiah so much as teared up.
But then he opens his mouth...
“This will shove a big wrench in my deal with Noretto.”
My heart stutters, then slams into overdrive, adrenaline detonating in my chest so violently I almost sway.
I don’t wait for anything else. And once again, I don’t consider the implications. I’m in heels for God’s sake. Wearing a short little dress. No belongings, no phone, no money.
But none of that registers when I spin and bolt toward the door.
A chorus of fucks and what the hells rings behind me, getting lost in other noise. Like the echoing clacks of my stilettos against the marble, the frantic beat of my heart, and the whoosh of blood in my ears. There’s only one thought in my head: never again.
Never again will I allow anyone to lock me up.
Never again will I be blackmailed into submission.
Never again will I be passive.