Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
ANDIE
I’m leaning against a bookcase in the library, feeling twitchy. The compulsion to go find Sarah is eating me alive and preventing me from paying attention to the conversation at hand. At any other time, I would have been curious to explore the large book collection housed in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that line the walls. A dust cover of an old Hemmingway novel catches my eye.
When I was younger, the library at school or the public library in town were my second homes. I found solace in the existence of make-believe worlds and the characters who lived within them. Books didn’t lie to you or hurt you. They didn’t hit you or lock you in a cage. Living between the pages of books brought me a peace that I never knew at home. I discovered friends and found heroes. Kellan was the one who started my love of the written word. Instead of reading me picture books when I was four, he would take me on an adventure with Tom Sawyer into the caves or we would fly high into the sky with Icarus.
“If we’re boring you, princess, feel free to leave at any time.”
I straighten up from the wall, my gaze snapping to Keane reposing in the leather armchair behind a black walnut executive desk that takes up a quarter of the room. It rests atop a hand-knotted black and gold wool rug that probably costs as much as a new Aston Martin Rapide S. God, I love those cars. Maybe someday …
“It must be hard to sit with that big, authoritative stick stuck up your ass all the time.”
Jax snorts before covering his mouth, pretending to rub his thumb over his bottom lip.
“Sit your spoiled ass down and listen for once,” Keane replies in a very unfriendly voice.
Still giving him attitude, I plop down in the seat next to Rafe and prop my feet up on the desk. Steepling my middle fingers together, I press the tops of them to my lips and blow a fuck-you kiss at Keane. Not taking the bait, instead, I get a slow trailing of his eyes up my legs.
I’m still not used to them looking at me as a woman and not as Kellan’s irritating little sister. I have no problem using my body and my sexuality, if it means getting what I want. I just never expected my own response to these guys to be so strong. I shouldn’t be attracted to them at all, but those lines have been slowly blurring as each day passes. Teenage girl crushes aside, there’s something about the three of them, even my bastard of an ex, that has sparked a wildfire inside of me and has painfully brought me back to life, kicking and screaming. I don’t know how to handle it after feeling dead inside for so long.
Jax scrolls through something on his tablet, and I imagine his inked fingers as paintbrushes. I want to reach out and grab his hand, so I can study the intricate red and black designs that flow over each digit. I start to wonder how those fingers would feel inside of me, and I bite back a moan as I readjust my legs, taking them off the desk and tucking them under me in the chair.
A shrink would have a field day inside of my head with the yo-yoing of emotions I’m having today. Lust is the very last thing I should be feeling.
Keane motions to Rafe. “You need to meet with Dante as soon as possible.”
“Who’s that?” I ask. Like Matteo, there are a lot of new men on my father’s payroll who are unfamiliar to me.
“He’s in charge of security for Friday’s dinner party.”
“Why aren’t you in charge?”
Keane looks up at the ceiling and sighs. I guess he doesn’t like that I ask questions and finds it annoying.
“We need to make sure we coordinate efforts with Julio’s men. Know how many of his own personal security he’ll be bringing, and make sure they understand we’re meeting on neutral ground.”
“And that means?”
Luckily, Jax speaks coherent English, so I can understand. “No weapons. What they bring, they check at the door.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. Turning to Keane, I say, “See? That wasn’t so hard to explain. You should learn to use your big-boy words.”
I think I hear him mumble “smartass,” but I’m not sure.
Tilting my head back so I can see Rafe, I ask, “You okay with all this?”
No matter how angry I may be at him, I’m still concerned how he’s handling the fact that his father will be coming here. I don’t think Rafe has seen him since he left home when he was younger.
Rafe looks away from me, and I have my answer.
Wanting this little pow-wow to be over with, I ask Keane, “Anything else?”
The deadly scowl Rafe aims at Keane makes me uncomfortable. There has been a tangible tension between the two of them lately, and I don’t like it.
“Jax has been looking into Declan Levine. He was able to decipher an encrypted message sent over the dark web.”
Genuinely interested in how one does that, I ask Jax, “If it’s encrypted, how do you know where and what to look for?”
Jax’s moss-green eyes smirk back at me. “Because I’m that good.”
“Apparently not that good, since the last place we were at exploded. Seems all your fancy computer know-how failed big time.”
He doesn’t have a comeback for my snarky observation.
Keane leans his elbows on the desk, his biceps bunching and expanding the material of his gray T-shirt. “You were right. Declan wants you. We just need to figure out why and stop whatever he has planned next.”
“I still don’t understand what he wants with me. He’d be better off kidnapping one of you.”
If there was a feasible way where I could take Sarah and run without fear of us being found, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, every scenario I have run through my brain the last half hour ends up with both of us eventually captured, me dead, and Sarah back in the clutches of my father. And there is no way in hell I will ever let that happen.
A more horrifying scenario pops inside my brain. What if Levine comes after Sarah? Does he know about her?
Shoving myself up from my chair, I plant my palms flat on the desk and implore Keane. “You need to move Sarah to a safer location. She shouldn’t be in this house, especially with a known drug lord and his thug cronies coming for a visit. No offense,” I tell Rafe. I want to add something excessively bitchy about bringing his fiancée to the party, but I hold back.
Keane crosses his arms over his chest. “She’s safer here.”
“No, she’s not!” I argue.
Even with Julio, Alejandro, and Declan Levine lurking around, Sarah will never be safe around my father.
“The discussion is over. You need to keep out of the way and let me do my job. And stay away from Sarah. We don’t want her more confused than she already is. She’s still processing Kellan’s death.”
The audacity of this motherfucker. “You can’t keep me from her. She’s my niece. She’s Kellan’s daughter. I’m her blood.”
“I’m fully aware of who you are, Andie.”
The way he says that has me cocking my head, the braid of my honey-brown hair falling over my shoulder and brushing the desktop. It’s a loaded sentence. One that tells me that Keane doesn’t trust me. He shouldn’t.
Then a thought hits me and causes my lungs to constrict. “Does she even know she has an aunt? Did Kellan tell her he had a sister?”
A painful, stabbing of my heart happens when Keane simply states, “No.”
I fold my lips together when they start to tremble. Kellan never told her about me? Never showed her a picture? Nothing?
At the desolation that must be written all over my face, Keane’s entire demeanor softens with regret.
Feeling overwhelmed, I decide I need a minute to compose myself. Kellan kept Sarah a secret from me. Now I find out I wasn’t even worthy of a mention. Sarah has no clue who I am or that I ever existed until she found me in the kitchen. She doesn’t know she has an aunt who loves her and would lay down her life for her. God dammit, Kellan. How many more of your lies will I uncover?
Without speaking another word, I walk out of the library, my feet guiding me without my consent up the stairs straight into Kellan’s bedroom.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Of course, his ghost decides not to show up. Coward.
His bedroom is exactly the same. Untouched after all these years. The bed is unmade, almost as if he was alive today and had just woken up. There’s a thick layer of dust coating everything. I can’t believe that our father hasn’t made anyone come in here and box his things up. At least strip the bed or something. It’s morbid as hell.
There’s an old picture of me and Kellan sitting in a small five-by-seven frame on his nightstand. I pick it up and wipe off the glass. It’s a selfie Kellan took of the two of us. Anger rapidly builds, and I hurl the picture across the room.
Spinning on my heel to leave, I stop dead in my tracks when I’m met with the shrewd green eyes of the Grim Reaper.
“Not now, Jax.”
He closes the door.
“I’m really not in the mood to listen to whatever it is you want to say to me.”
One moment Jax is standing there, and the next moment, he has me shoved against the wall, his hands tenderly cradling the back of my head, while his tongue plunders my mouth.
I react instinctively. And do the one thing I shouldn’t.
I kiss him back.
Because I can’t stop myself. Because I’m messed up in the head. Because I want to feel something other than the heartache that’s bleeding through the pores of my skin.
I moan when he sucks on my tongue, tasting me. Devouring me. I’m like Pavlov’s dog. My body responds to his heat and his scent. Arousal soaks my underwear, and my nipples tighten to the point of pain, begging for his lips to wrap around them. My mind recalls the night in the pit when he touched me. Kissed me. Owned me. And how good it felt.
A semblance of sanity returns, and Jax must anticipate my next move. He’s able to stop the knee I bring up, and instead lifts my leg and hooks it around his waist. I try to shove at his chest, but he presses closer, trapping me to the wall like an insect pinned on a mounting board. I bite his tongue, the coppery, metallic taste of blood bitter to my palette. Nothing stops him. He just kisses me harder until I submit. Until my body arches into him, and I pull him closer. Until nothing is left but an animalistic need for him to take me against the wall.
Jax forces his hand down my pants, trailing a finger up the top of my thigh to the crease where it meets my hip, lighting a path of fire and goose flesh wherever his finger touches. Dipping two fingers inside the seam of my panties, he inches them across my soft pubic hair, and stops. When his eyes meet mine, he thrusts two fingers inside me, and I buck off the wall at the electric sensation it causes. And then, I’m attacking his mouth, kissing him as a jagged moan rolls up from my throat.
Breaking us apart, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean, while spearing me with his stormy, chaotic eyes.
What is wrong with me? First Rafe, and now Jax. I’m turning into a wanton hussy.
“Stop,” I pant, repulsed by what he’s doing, but also turned on more than I have ever been in my life.
Jax murmurs unintelligibly against my clavicle. His voice is like a caress over my overheated skin. He licks up the column of my neck, across my cheek, and I tremble with excitement when I feel his pierced tongue grazing my flesh. I never noticed he had a piercing. Probably because he never smiles.
I’m so confused by my body’s duplicitous reaction to this man. A man I should hate.
“Jax, stop,” I say more forcefully.
He bites me on my neck at the dip of my shoulder and lifts his head. We’re both panting, our chests rising and falling with effort. As soon as he relaxes his grip, I duck under his arm, circle to his back, and reach around his neck with one arm, while kicking out his right knee. He hits the floor, and I scramble away from him until the backs of my legs bump Kellan’s bed.
Instead of getting up and coming after me like I expect him to, he swivels around on the floor and stretches his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. Propping back on his heavily inked arms, he cants his head at me, a warm, pleasant smile spreading across his too-handsome face. This entire encounter is absolutely bizarre. It’s like I’m Alice when she first wakes up in Wonderland and discovers she’s in a twisted, topsy-turvy world that makes no sense. It’s funny how I keep thinking up those analogies. I wonder if Sarah would enjoy it if I read her the book.
Jax’s eyes, behind those sexy-as-fuck glasses he wears, rove over me. My gaze treats him to a similar inspection. He’s dressed in a plain tee and jeans, his dirty blond hair mussed from my hands.
When he just sits there as if he’s waiting patiently for me to speak first, I lift my chin in defiance. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I wanted to.”
“I don’t like you.”
He grins at my ridiculous statement. “You’re shivering.”
I really do need to stop underestimating him.
When he stands up, I automatically take a step back, but I’m stopped by the bed behind me. As he stalks forward, my heart rate kicks up like a trapped rabbit’s.
I flinch when he raises his hand to my shoulder, the backs of his knuckles caressing the clavicle and dip of my throat with a gentleness I wasn’t expecting. Using a tender touch I’m not prepared for, his finger smooths over the bruises coloring my face. His hand migrates to my shoulder, and he circles the area under my shirt where I gouged the microchip out with his knife. He finishes by tracing the line of the shallow cut he gave me.
“You are so beautiful like this,” he says.
“Like what?” I ask a little too breathlessly.
He kisses my shoulder, and my eyes close as I sigh.
“Damaged.”
A short bark of laughter comes out. “That’s not a very flattering thing to tell a woman.”
“But it’s honest.”
There is no place for honesty here. My life is filled with lies layered upon more lies.
Dropping my forehead to his chest, I give myself a moment of peace in the solace of his arms that wrap around me. I can hate him later. Right now, I just need a semblance of comfort, even if it’s in the embrace of my enemy.
Breathing in the clean, soapy smell of him, I let questions whirl around my confusticated brain. Declan Levine is going to a lot of trouble to get his hands on me. I’ve never met the man in my life. I’m nobody. No one of importance. So, why? And where’s Liam? What does he have to do with all of this? There are also personal questions I’ve avoided but need to deal with. Jax has kissed me twice now. Rafe is engaged to my cousin. However, everything from finding the bracelet I gave to him, to what happened in the pantry between us, tell me a different story. Then there’s Keane. He had a photograph of me as a teenager on the wall of his room at Kellan’s cabin. He has a tattoo of Tinker Bell on his leg. Kellan also called me Tinker Bell, so it can’t be a coincidence.
“Andie, I don’t know what’s going on, but I promise you, I’m going to find out.” Jax lifts my chin. “About everything,” he concludes, and I know that he’s referring to me, as well as what happened at the house.
My plan for revenge is on borrowed time. Once Jax figures out why I’m back, he’ll put a bullet in my head, or he'll more than likely slit my throat with his knife. He won't have a choice because I’m not going to stop.
“Want to go spend some time with your niece?”
“But Keane said?—”
Jax grips the back of my neck hard and takes my lower lip between his teeth. It’s as if there’s a string connected directly to my pussy, and I feel the pull when he sucks my lip into his mouth.
“She’s with her nanny right now. Let’s go,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me out of the room.
The person who Sarah mentioned earlier, Meribella, must be her nanny.
Jax guides me to the west wing of the house, toward the sound of a child’s laughter. Letting my hand go, he gives me a small push. I stop at the entryway of a room and see Sarah sitting on the floor, two small dolls clutched tightly in each hand. She pretends to walk them across the floor and does different voices for each. It’s cute as hell.
There’s a woman sitting on a nearby Queen Anne chair, quietly knitting, of all things. She must detect my presence because she looks up.
Meribella is much younger than I would have expected of a nanny. Mid-to-late twenties, give or take, with kind, milk chocolate eyes, and gorgeous dark-brown hair left loose to curl around her shoulders. The nanny Kellan and I had growing up was this dour, mean old lady, who wore her hair in a severe bun and had resting bitch face all the time. I hated that woman. She didn’t have a single kind bone in her body. Why the hell she would choose to care for children as her profession is still a mystery to me.
I carefully step into the room, hovering briefly with indecision, before taking a seat on the floor in front of Sarah. She’s humming to herself as she changes one of her doll’s clothes. There’s a small tea service laid out around her. I finger the top of one tiny, pink porcelain cup, instantly recognizing the butterfly pattern on it. It’s the mini toy tea set my mother gave me when I was three. We would have tea parties together with this set. It’s one of the only good memories I have of my mother before she decided she couldn’t stand the sight of me. Before she blamed me for her husband’s disinterest with her. She became jealous of her own child.
Did she ever care about what he was doing to me? Or did I become competition for his attention—attention I never wanted and never asked for?
I stroke a shaky fingertip along the uneven dip around the lip of the cup where it’s chipped.
“Here. You can be Jasmine,” Sarah says, shoving a doll with long, blonde hair at me.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “She’s a very pretty doll.”
“Jasmine is her favorite,” Meribella says with a thick Spanish accent.
I look at Sarah, her big, soft brown eyes shining at me. Her features are so similar to Kellan’s, but I guess they would be. If she and I stood side-by-side in front of a mirror, would I be able to see any part of me in her?
“Well, I’m honored then. I will be very careful with her.”
I take the small brush she hands me and begin sliding it down the doll’s hair. Sarah beams a smile at me, and I see that she’s missing two of her lower baby teeth. That must be why she pronounces her l’s like w’s. I still find it adorable.
“We’re having a tea party.” She nods her head like it’s already decided that I am coming to the party, her tight spirals of curls bouncing like miniature springs on her head.
“ Mariposita , am I invited too?” Rafe asks, appearing to my left.
He takes a cross-legged seat between us and pretends to pour tea into each cup.
I go a little mushy seeing him holding a girl’s pink teapot and ingratiating himself into the overtly feminine role-playing game. Do the guys play with her like this whenever they’re here? And why I find the image of that hot as hell is something I shut down real quick.
Looking over my shoulder, I smile at Jax, who is watching from the doorway.
I get lost when Sarah and Rafe start speaking to each other in Spanish again. I guess I’ll need to learn the language now. I picked up some things when Rafe and I were together. I can speak Italian and Russian fluently, so learning Spanish shouldn’t be too hard.
I do catch the meaning of Rafe’s comment, “ Su nombre es Alejandría . ”
“Just Andie,” I tell Sarah when she looks at me.
I tuck a stray curl behind her ear because I can’t help myself. I want a connection with her. I want what Rafe has with her. What Keane seems to have with her. God only knows about Jax. He’s more than likely her boogie man. If I had met him when I was four, I would’ve shit my pants. The man is scary and intense on a good day.
Sarah accepts Andie as what to call me, and continues to play, gathering a few more dolls. Meribella has been watching everything with quiet interest, but I notice how her eyes keep darting longingly at Rafe. Is she infatuated with him? He’s probably sleeping with her, too. A woman doesn’t look at a man like that unless he has fucked her, and the experience was mind-blowing. I shouldn’t feel jealous. Rafe isn’t mine. He’s Rita’s. But he used to be mine .
“Looks like this is where the party is at,” Keane announces, startling me.
If he tells me to get out, I’m going to castrate him.
Sarah jumps up and runs over to him, but switches gears when she sees Jax. And holy shit, all the air gets knocked out of me when he picks her up and flips her upside down, both of them laughing. Jax is laughing. And damn , what a sight that is to see. Hefting her onto his shoulders, he and Keane take their places on the floor. Sarah climbs down Jax’s back and happily begins the tea party. I see I’m not the only princess here, as she lords over us, telling us exactly what to do and how to do it, not afraid to chastise us when we don’t do it right. Little Miss Bossy. I love it.
I spend the next hour having the most surreal experience of my life and enjoying every single second of it.