Chapter 40
JAGGER
Driving into the village of Fullerton, Cassie’s hand in mine in the back seat, it was almost possible to believe we were normal. That we were just on vacation, going out for dinner and a few beers, checking out the picturesque town.
And the craziest fucking thing of all?
I’d never even wanted to be normal. I’d left normal behind when I’d started tossing money off buildings in the city, when I’d left my seven-figure job and custom suits to rob banks with Hawk and Viggo in Blackwell Falls, a town I was willing to bet none of my Wall Street cohorts had even heard of.
So why did I want to play house with Cassie Montgomery?
Why did I want to go to dinner without talking about sex trafficking and the Russian mob and private banking?
Why did I want to walk the cobblestone streets holding her hand, looking in shop windows and talking about what to bring home as a souvenir?
And why the fuck did I want to keep her forever?
These were the questions that dogged me as Hawk parked the car on one of the little streets in town.
I took Cassie’s hand when we got out, because we might not be able to keep her with us forever, but I could at least hold her fucking hand.
That part of my fantasy was doable.
The sun was setting as we wandered, looking for a place to eat before finally settling on a place called the Mayfly, a brick building with a steeply pitched roof and an outdoor dining area right on the River Test.
We got a table outside and ordered half the menu and four beers — Cassie wanted to try Guinness — and sat back to enjoy the atmosphere.
It had rained earlier in the day, and the pavement was still damp, the temperature just cool enough to be pleasant. The conversation of other diners was a pleasant hum, ducks quacking their way along the river, dunking their sleek heads for fish and river grass.
I watched Cassie from across the table, wanting to memorize the way she looked in the setting sun, her hair on fire, eyes shining green from her perfect face, a face that increasingly made me feel sappy and lovestruck which was a very bad thing.
I turned my attention to the swell of her tits instead, because thinking about how much I wanted to fuck her was easier than thinking about how much I fucking loved her.
Jesus christ.
I was relieved when the food came. For all my talk about feelings with Cassie — about the value of tough conversations — I had no fucking idea how to broach the subject of how I felt about her, no idea if she felt the same way, although there was one thing I knew.
Hawk and Vigo were as head over heels for Cassie as I was.
I saw it on their faces every time they looked at her: Vigo as transparent as tissue paper, Hawk trying his damndest to stay cool and failing every step of the way.
That was what Cassie had done to us: exposed our soft underbellies, the sides of ourselves we’d thought we’d banished in favor of pure, unadulterated fun.
Except now nothing sounded like more fun than keeping Cassie — loving Cassie — forever. Than continuing to show her that she was more than just Bram’s little sister.
I pushed it all aside, focusing on the plates of food that filled the table, dishing a little of everything and putting stuff on Cassie’s plate too.
There was lamb terrine served with tangy tomato chutney and a fish platter with salmon, squid, and prawns so fresh I could taste the sea.
We shared crispy fish and chips fried to perfection and a duck salad with sesame, plus panzanella that tasted like our summer — almost gone — with Cassie, and chili broccoli with sea salt.
We ate like animals, even Cassie, all of us famished from the long flight to England and the drive to the house, to say nothing of the hurried, last-minute prep we’d done for the trip.
We were all pretending it was forever. Even Cassie, I thought, although that part might have been my imagination.
She’d come to us to lose her virginity and get justice for her parents. We’d more than taken care of the first order of business. What would happen when the second was checked off the list?
“No!” Cassie groaned when I insisted on ordering dessert. “I’m stuffed!”
Vigo grinned. “There’s always room for dessert, mouse.”
I caught the promise in his voice and my dick got hard thinking about what we would do to Cassie when we got her back to the cottage in the trees.
Tomorrow we’d talk to Anna Reed, try to find out how she’d known Cassie’s parents, but tonight we were going to eat and fuck like there was no tomorrow, and we continued gorging ourselves on sticky toffee pudding, strawberry Eton mess, and chocolate mousse.
“I feel sick,” Cassie said when we finally stood to leave.
The sun had set, the ducks gone quiet.
“Worth it,” Vigo said, taking Cassie’s hand as we left the Mayfly.
I was happy to stand back, watching him swing their arms like he was a teenager on a first date, Hawk following like an overprotective dad.
Somehow these people had become my people and an unfamiliar swell of affection tightened my chest.
“Let’s check out Anna Reed’s place,” Hawk said when we got to the car.
“I thought we were going tomorrow,” Cassie said next to me in the back.
“We’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Hawk said, punching Anna Reed’s address into the car’s GPS. “but I want to case her place first, make sure we can get access.”
We’d checked the place out on Google Earth but had only been able to see the road, the house invisible behind thick stands of trees.
Hawk put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.
It only took a minute for the tightly-packed buildings of town to give way to open space. It was dark but in the light of the moon I caught sprawling meadows and fields broken up by forests as green as the Blackwell Preserve, although not as dense.
We entered a stretch of road with hedges as tall as trees on either side. It was almost claustrophobic, the road narrow and damp, the hedges boxing us in, and my heart rate kicked up a notch when I spotted Hawk staring not at the road unfurling in front of us but at the rearview mirror.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He was working to keep his voice level and I understood immediately it was for Cassie. “Just keeping an eye on that car behind us.”
I turned to look and saw the headlights on the isolated country road, the make and model of the car hidden behind the glare of the lights.
Cassie twisted in her seat. “You think we’re being followed?”
I hated the note of panic in her voice, realized it was probably more pronounced because of what had happened to her on the mountain.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure at all.
Hawk’s gaze moved smoothly between the rearview mirror and the road in front of him, and about twenty minutes after we left the village he slowed down, crawling to a stop next to a gravel driveway that led into the trees, his eyes locked on the rearview mirror.
I reached for the door handle as subtly as I could, preparing to leap out if the other car stopped, prevent whoever was inside from getting close to Cassie.
The car drove past us, its running lights fading into the darkness.
“See?” I took my hand off the door. “All good.”
Cassie exhaled her relief.
“This is it,” Hawk said, craning his neck to look through the windshield at the thick row of hedges on either side of the grave drive.
“Still can’t see a fucking thing,” Vigo said. “What if there’s a gate or something?”
“We’ll have to take it as it comes,” Hawk said.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t try calling again?” Cassie asked. “Ask if she’ll see us?”
“Calling is for losers,” Vigo said. “We just show up. She’ll see us. One way or another.”
I caught Cassie’s frown in the shadows of the back seat. “Now you’re scaring me.”
“Nothing to be scared of,” Jagger said. “Hawk and Vigo are right. Anna Reed hung up on you. She’s not going to see us if we call. We’ll improvise.”
“I get nervous when you improvise,” Cassie said.
“I’m hurt,” Vigo said from the passenger seat. “Improvising is our specialty.”
“I don’t want to freak her out,” Cassie said.
“We’re not going to freak her out,” I said, hoping we didn’t actually freak her out. “We just want to talk.”
Cassie cut a glance at Vigo as Hawk put the car in gear. “Famous last words.”
“Why are you looking at me?” Vigo asked. “I didn’t even bring my bat.”