20. Jet
JET
Idon’t sleep for more than a few hours. Amal, however, has fallen into a deep slumber. I know it took her a while to fall asleep. What happened would keep anyone awake.
Quietly, I slip out of bed. Grabbing my phone, I head to the bathroom where I get a look at myself.
Well, at least most of the bruises will be covered up by clothes and Sev doesn’t need to know about the knife wound.
At least the pain has eased to more of a throbbing than my side feeling like it’s on fucking fire.
I wash my face and brush my teeth then force my hair back using some gel. After trimming my five o’clock shadow, I splash on aftershave. I don’t swallow any of the painkillers the soldier brought with the suturing kit. I need to be sharp today.
After dressing in my usual slacks and a black button-down, I walk back into the bedroom. Amal is still out, her breathing quiet and even. I stand over the bed and look at her. Her face is relaxed, eyelids fluttering. I wonder what it is she’s dreaming about.
I tuck her in then walk into the living area of the suite where Malcom is making himself a cup of coffee from the Nespresso machine.
“Your brother just checked in. He’s having a shower then expects you downstairs. Pronto.”
“Did he say that? Pronto?”
“Yup.
“Must be his new fucking word of the week.” I find the strongest pod and pop it into the machine to make myself a cup.
Malcom drinks his coffee. “Saw the news this morning. Robbery gone wrong they’re saying. No bodies apart from the owner of the antique shop.”
“I’m not surprised. I may need you to take Amal back later. Let me talk to Sev this morning and figure out what exactly we’re up against and I’ll let you know.”
“No problem.”
“Where are the others?” I ask of the soldiers.
“Two outside and two getting some shut eye.” He checks his watch. “They’re due here in about twenty minutes.’
“Okay. When they get here, let them know she’s to stay in the suite until I’m back. And no one comes in. I mean no one.”
“Will do. What are we dealing with here, Jet?”
Malcom is part of Cassian’s world. Although I trust him fully. He’s been my right hand for the last couple of years, I’ve never mentioned my link to The Society. I hoped I’d never have to.
“Not sure yet. Depends on what they want.” My phone pings with a message. It’s Cassian.
Cassian: Severin dropped by last night asking what I knew about your WIFE???
Well, I had to tell him sooner or later.
Me: Solved a problem.
Cassian: Sounds like you created a couple more. How is Scotland?
Me: Scottish
Cassian: Why is Severin going to meet you? He seemed off.
Me: That’s just my brother.
Cassian: More than his usual. I haven’t seen him ruffled like this.
I take a moment remembering the last time Sev and I dealt with IVI. It’s more than twelve years ago. Funny how time can pass but you don’t forget a damn thing. Not of the things you want to forget about.
Sev was right around eighteen years old. I was sixteen. The way he found us. Me…
I push a hand into my hair and force the memory away, focusing my attention back on the conversation.
Me: I’ll call you later. I’m meeting him in a few minutes.
Cassian: You need me? I can be there in about eight hours.
Me: I got this.
The two soldiers enter the suite and Malcom fills them in.
Cassian: Do you need soldiers? You took a handful with you.
I consider this. Maybe. But I won’t allow the stain of my grandfather to taint another soul. I will handle this without Cassian.
Me: Handful plus Malcom. Should be fine. Thanks though. Appreciate the offer.
Cassian: I’m still going to kick your ass for disobeying orders.
Me: You can try. Gotta go.
I tuck my phone into my pocket and turn to Malcom.
“Boys are ready, boss.”
“Good. You’re with me.” Although I’d prefer to leave him with Amal, he’s the one I trust to spot these fuckers.
We head to the restaurant to meet Sev. Although it’s early, the place is already buzzing.
“The men from last night, the organization that sent them will send more. They’ll blend in looking like proper businessmen, but they’re not.”
He nods, already scanning the lobby. “I’ll be on the lookout.”
I head to the restaurant to find my brother seated at the same table where Amal and I had dinner which seems like an eternity ago. He’s dressed impeccably, his norm, in a bespoke charcoal suit. You’d never know he just crossed the Atlantic, and my guess is he got about five minutes of sleep.
“Thank you,” Sev tells the waiter who pours him a cup of coffee then leaves the pot. The waiter nods subtly and walks away. Sev looks me over as I pull out the chair, his gray gaze like a wolf’s not missing a damn thing.
“Morning,” I say, picking up the pot of coffee and filling my cup. I notice two of our security guards from the club lurking nearby. They’re harmless compared to my guys but if it makes Sev feel better to have them, who am I to stand in his way.
Severin observes me over his coffee then sets it down. “You look tired.”
“Wedding night.” I smirk, take a sip of the scalding coffee and burn my tongue.
“What the fuck, Jet?”
“Congratulations is usually what people open with when they hear the happy news of a marriage.”
“Then I’ll repeat. What. The. Fuck?”
“I guess you’re sore about not having received an invite but if it makes you feel better, no one did.”
He shakes his head. “I’m glad you’re entertained. Do you have any fucking idea of the trouble you’ve caused?”
“Got that message loud and clear last night.”
His gaze moves over my face, eyes narrowing on mine. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t need to be involved, not this time.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here, aren’t I? I’m involved. Their summons very clearly states both of our names.”
“I’ll tell them. Last time was different. Last time I was a kid.”
“And I’m sure they’ll be very fucking understanding. You’re not doing this alone, Jet. Tell me what the fuck is going on. What exactly are we walking into?”
I draw a tight breath in. “The watch. I kept it.”
Sev’s jaw clenches so tight, I’m worried for his molars. “Fuck, Jet.”
“It wasn’t a choice, Sev. What happened…
what he did to me.” It takes all I have to hold his gaze and keep my tone steady because no matter what, there’s still a whole lot of shame that just doesn’t go away.
No matter how much time passes. No matter how deeply I understand that it wasn’t my fault.
“It’s not something you just decide to turn your back on. To forget. And I’ve tried.”
“Fuck.” He shakes his head. “How did it end up in IVI’s hands?” he asks, his tone a hair less pissed off.
“The man where Amal pawned it knew to call a certain number if ever anything with the marking turned up.”
“And Amal is your wife now?”
“You should know I killed two of their men last night,” I say, thinking this part might be the easier conversation to have.
“Jesus Christ. This gets better and better.”
Commotion from the entrance draws our attention.
I turn in time to see Amal jerk her arm free of Malcom.
Her eyes lock onto mine as she marches toward our table.
She’s dressed in fitted jeans, a pale blue cashmere sweater and knee-high riding boots.
Her dark curls bounce wildly around her face like she didn’t even bother to try and tame them.
No makeup. No effort to soften the fury in her eyes.
She looks untouchable.
Pissed as fuck.
And sexy as hell.