Chapter 33 Ethan
Ethan
“How can you be friends with her?” Jax glowers at Aurora from his plush leather seat on the private jet. “She called you a doormat—death’s doormat.”
“I’m pretty sure that was aimed at me.” Facing them, I stretch out my legs and get comfortable for the five-hour flight ahead. “Bennett was saying I’m death and Aurora is my doormat. She was pissed I wouldn’t let Aurora out of my grip. She thinks I control you both…and maybe the Rossi family too.”
Leaving the condo and boarding the plane was uneventful.
Bennett and two other agents escorted us.
I could tell Reece’s commander was itching to get Aurora alone, which wasn’t going to happen.
Even when our girl turned over evidence, I kept her and Jax close, my hand clasping Aurora’s nape the entire time.
Bennett glared at me as if I were the enemy. I don’t blame her, nor do I care. I did end Jax’s interrogation, and I am a tad controlling when it comes to what’s mine—none of which is about to change.
Am I annoyed with Aurora for going behind my back and setting up something with Bennett? A little. Am I surprised? No. She’ll always protect Jackson. Will I allow her to continue working with Homeland Security? Absolutely not. I’m about to lock her in the loft in New York.
Our girl casts a glance at Reece, who’s next to me, before turning to Jax.
“I’m not her friend.” She holds his heated stare.
“But I’ll play along if I have to. You think I don’t know that vacant look?
The one you had at the hospital?” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard.
“I haven’t seen those lifeless eyes in a long time, and if I need to act ditzy and bubbly to keep Bennett focused on me and not you—fine. I’ve got a lot planned.”
His gaze softens, but his jaw remains tight. “I don’t want you involved in this. I never have.”
“But I am.” Imploring him to understand, she steeples her fingers at her chest. “From the moment we met, I’ve been a part of this, possibly even before then.” She shrugs. “Who knows? Without you, I might have followed in Emily’s footsteps.”
He shakes his head and furrows his brow. “You wouldn’t have. That’s not you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She waves him off. “Think about it, Jax. Emily was associated with your father and Hugo. She dated one of your best friends, who she lost interest in once we moved in together. You knew nothing about her, but she knew everything about you. You hated her, but she still hung out with you and the guys after we broke up. Why? I thought she wanted to be a wealthy hockey wife. How stupid am I?”
“Aurora,” I growl. “Watch your mouth.”
Of course, she ignores me. “I was pretty fucking dense. Who was at the Laguna Beach penthouse the day before Kyle showed up?” she asks Jax.
“How did he find out I was pregnant and staying with you? I didn’t trust Emily enough to tell her about Ethan.
Kyle found out about him by following me to New York, where Emily was supposed to be.
She knew the address. Kyle assumed the baby was yours, which is what we let Emily believe.
Throughout our entire relationship, your dad has always known what we were up to. ”
“And that’s how Kyle discovered the loft, took pictures of us, and shared them with Hugo,” Reece adds. “God-fucking-dammit, I hate her.”
Jax drops his head into his hands and pulls at his hair.
My stomach plummets. “We’re lucky Emily didn’t harm Aurora or the baby to appease him.”
Jackson snaps upright, his face pale and eyes wide. “Are we sure she didn’t?” His breathing grows rapid and shallow. “Aurora was sick in New York, and we never figured out how Kyle drugged me.”
Rage floods my veins, and my heartbeat pounds in my ears, drowning out Aurora’s response. I turn to Reece for answers.
Thinking, he peers up and to the side. “I ordered all her food, made all her meals. She was only out of my sight once—at Emily’s. Still, it’s highly unlikely. I would’ve become suspicious if Aurora were suddenly sick.”
Thank fuck he was there, takes his job seriously, and caters to her every whim.
It doesn’t ease the fury in my chest though.
“I was throwing up from the beginning of my pregnancy.” Her words shake, and her lip trembles. “The baby is fine—he has to be—and each ultrasound has been perfect.”
Jax wraps her in his arms. “He’s perfect, babe. I promise. I’m paranoid, that’s all. I’m sorry.”
He comforts her while I ponder homicide. What constitutes a murderable offense? Where do you draw the line? Assisting a predator in harming what’s mine? Definitely crosses the line, right?
I flip my phone over in my hand and contemplate texting Rocco or Dante. Maybe I’m not so different from my father after all. I just needed love to understand hate.
“Lucas will find her,” Reece says quietly. “We should watch her anyhow.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything else?”
“No, Dimitri is getting me the name of the obstetrician his daughter uses. The loft is almost finished—furniture came last week. I’ll let Aurora pick the nursery…
” I inhale deeply then exhale slowly. I still have to tell her she’s staying in New York.
“And we’ll get it put together before the baby is born. ”
Aurora lifts her head and wipes away her tears. “Well, I guess that ends my idea of personally connecting Bennett with Emily.”
A collective “Absolutely fucking not” echoes in the plane’s cabin.
My tone drops an octave. “We need to have a serious conversation, baby girl.”
Those whiskey-brown eyes flash with defiance. “What’s the point of having a conversation? You’re sending me to New York no matter what.”
“Your safety,” I retort, not denying her accusation. “Bennett is a wild card we can’t control, and Emily is a snake. As much as I’m trying to be patient and appreciate all you’re doing, I’d rather you didn’t.”
Her eyes narrow, her hand cradling her swollen belly. “I’m not a child.”
“No, you’re not.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees.
“You’re the mother of my child and the heart of this family.
There’s no us without you. Your safety is nonnegotiable.
Befriending Bennett is one thing; making plans to meet up with Emily is completely different.
” I rub my tired eyes with the heels of my palms. “This isn’t a game, Aurora.
These people have proven they’ll do whatever it takes to harm us. ”
“You think I don’t know that?” She cocks her head, her voice rising. “Again, I’m involved in this. They were after me too.”
“That’s precisely why you’re going to New York,” I cut in, my tone brooking no room for argument. “The loft is secure, and you’ll have round-the-clock protection. The twins and Lucas plan to stay in the apartment below ours. No one will mess with our family in New York.”
Her eyes, brimming with tears, hold mine, and the weight of her unspoken anguish crushes me—and pisses me the fuck off.
She should be happy, dancing around the house, dressing up, buying tiny baby clothes, baking damn cupcakes if she wants…
not holding back her emotions for our sake and making deals to protect us. Jesus, that’s my fucking job.
Except I haven’t been home, and Jackson is going through hell. Reece is injured, and then there’s Lucas. She’s carrying it all on her shoulders.
I undo my seat belt. “Come here.”
She doesn’t.
“Now,” I rumble low.
She huffs, unbuckling with deliberate slowness, and Jax snickers. When she stands, I drag her onto my lap and wrap her in my arms.
She tries to maintain her stubborn stiffness, but after a moment, she softens and lays her head on my shoulder. “I’m getting too big to sit on your lap.”
“Never.” When she says nothing more, I continue, “I’m not trying to punish you by sending you to New York. I’m fucking terrified.”
“Then you know how I feel.”
“Won’t being in New York be less stressful? You can set up your studio and start designing.”
“For how long?” She sucks in a shuddering breath. “I hate being useless.”
“You’re growing our son. That’s far from useless.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“I understand what you mean. You wanna help. I get it.” I press my lips to her forehead. “But if you’re not happy and safe, everything we do is pointless. Our world crumbles.”
Her fingers fidget with the hem of my shirt. “Don’t say things like that. It makes it impossible to be irritated with you.”
“Good.” I caress her stomach, hoping to feel the baby move.
“I hate this,” she sighs. “I hate being separated. I want our house. I want my grandma close by.”
“I know.” I twist her braid around my fist and try to find the words to soothe her.
There’s nothing I can promise, nothing I can say with certainty. We will be separated—not always, but at times, when Jax and I travel—and I can’t replicate the beach house.
Jackson clears his throat. “Properties are investments, babe. I can sell ours and design another. I don’t mind. I actually enjoy it.”
He’s talking as if he realizes this isn’t temporary, and I meet his gaze over Aurora’s head. His eyes are shadowed with worry, his brows furrowed, but there’s trust there too. Trust in me to figure this out.
The connection between us—between all of us—tightens something in my chest and fuels my need to protect this bond we’ve built.
“And Gram can come to New York,” Reece offers. “We’ll find her the best assisted-living facility, or I’ll help with her. There’s in-home care. We have plenty of options.”
“Talk to Gram.” I clasp Aurora’s chin and raise her mouth to mine for a gentle kiss. “Let me know, and I’ll arrange it—although I’m not sure I can handle the trouble you two will get into.”
“You’d do that for me? Move my grandmother all the way to New York?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“What about the baby? Doctor appointments. The delivery?”
“I’ve got it covered.”
Her eyes narrow to slits. “You’ve been planning this.”
“I spent a long time talking with Rocco and Dimitri.”
Jax leans forward, his sandy-blond hair falling across his forehead. “We’ll be in New York between games, even if it’s just for a day. We’ll make every appointment, without question. I’m not missing a single ultrasound.”
She turns her head to peer at Reece. “You’ll be with me?”
“Where you go, I go. Remember?” He tucks an unruly wave behind her ear. “But you better stop keeping shit from me. We don’t lie to each other.”
“We don’t lie to each other?” Her brows raise. “You lied to me about your birthday.”
“Fuck,” he curses, his lip curled. “Did my sister tell you?”
“Sadie did, yes. You didn’t think they were planning to celebrate your thirtieth birthday?”
He throws his head back into the headrest and groans, “This is a nightmare.”
“Thirty?” Jackson smirks. “Damn. Now we know why you wear cargo pants, Grandpa.”
“They’re tactical pants,” Reece shoots back. “And I’m pretty sure the cutoff age for skinny jeans is twenty. It’s time to retire the nut-huggers.”
Jax kicks his leg out. “These aren’t skinny jeans! They’re a normal fit.”
The corner of Reece’s mouth twitches. “Normal for middle schoolers.”
I stifle a chuckle. “Speaking of your family, what are we doing? Are we pretending Jackson is with Aurora?”
“Oh.” Our little devil scrunches her nose. “I kind of took care of that too.”
Reece’s expression falls. “What did you do?”
“I made a tiny…” She stretches out the word, pinching two fingers together. “…donation to their church to improve the daycare. I saw it on their website.”
“They don’t have a daycare, Aurora. They have an empty room.”
“Well, they do now,” she singsongs. “I told Sadie it was a surprise and not to tell you. So, surprise,” she finishes with jazz hands.
“I left you alone for one fucking day—not even a full twenty-four hours—and you managed to bribe a federal agent and my parents?”
“I know, right? I got a lot done.”
She grins brightly, once again proud of herself, and a snort escapes me.
“Aurora,” Reece scolds.
“What?” she snaps playfully. “I used my own money, and, per Sadie, your mom is thrilled to furnish the daycare. She’s also been showing off pictures of us and is over the moon about you coming home.”
“You sent pictures to my mother.”
“No, I sent pictures to your sister, which you approved of.”
Jackson shakes his head. “I’ve never been happier not to have siblings.”
Same.
She adjusts herself on my lap to face him. “Maryanne, Reece’s mother, loves cooking and baking—that’s your in.” At his blank stare, she adds, “You can be charming when you want to be. I know you can. This is important.”
I tug her braid. “What about me?”
“His dad is a pastor.” She shrugs. “Probably not gonna have a lot in common.”
Definitely not.
“Holy shit, dude.” Jackson’s brows shoot up. “Your dad is a pastor? That explains everything.”