Chapter 49 Jackson #2
He took a breath before continuing. “Homelessness can happen to anyone and the reasons for it are complex, including family breakdowns, mental health concerns, job losses, bereavement, and care leaving, among many others. Young people are particularly vulnerable, and providing support to those who find themselves without a home, through no fault of their own, at a time when most of us have family to turn to, is especially important.”
Leah’s drink froze, hovering somewhere midway between the bar and her lips.
“This year, all the money raised from tonight’s ticket sales and silent auction will go to Cricklade House in Kalamazoo—an amazing charity that provides safe and secure housing and related services for young adults.
Your money will not only buy interview outfits for those trying to get a job but will help to fund regular workshops for residents, ranging from money management and life skills, through to team building and mental wellbeing sessions.
With your support, we can try to give young people in crisis the lifelong tools they need to thrive.
” Jackson took a long breath, the shadow of a smile playing on his lips.
“So, please—relax, have a wonderful evening, and thank you again for joining us tonight.”
He stepped down from the lectern to enthusiastic applause and a swell of renewed conversation, only to be immediately engulfed by friends and acquaintances offering congratulations.
There was no way of avoiding his official duties, however much he itched to drag Leah away so he could speak to her alone.
Even as he chatted politely, answering questions and deflecting others, he searched her out, over and over again, never able to get any nearer to where she sat at the bar.
Bidding on the silent auction lots was fast and furious.
Relief loosened the stranglehold of tension on his lungs.
At least the fundraising part of the evening was a success.
Jackson worked the opposite side of the room to his father, circling closer to Leah—conversation by painful conversation—as he networked, listened, and nodded.
It took him more than an hour to cross the gallery.
He bypassed Sam and Kash, trapped by a verbose member of the Michigan State Board of Real Estate Brokers the background chatter faded away and Jackson became an active radar missile, locked onto his target. Only Peake remained in high definition at the center of his vision. Adrenaline rocketing, he held himself back with cotton-thin restraint. He wanted to fucking kill him.
“Not here.” His father stepped in to block his way. “This isn’t the place.”
“You’re wrong.” Jackson suppressed a snarl.
“You can’t.”
“I fucking could if I wanted to.” His eyes blazed. “I don’t care about causing a scene. I don’t care about your reputation. I’d love to take on that asshole in front of everyone—but there’s no need. I’ve got someone else who’s going to do it for me.”
He gestured and his dad spun around.
Two people strode with authority toward the country club group—one female in dark pants and a burgundy shirt, one male in police uniform.
“Mr. Landon Peake?” The woman in plain clothes spoke first.
“That’s me.” Peake was still laughing as he turned. The upward curve fell from his lips once he properly registered the new arrivals. Jackson stalked closer, his father on his heels.
“My name is Lucy Lam, Special Agent in Charge of the FBI Chicago Field Office.” She held out her warrant card.
“You are under arrest for making extortionate extensions of credit without a license to lend, and attempted malicious arson. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”
Everyone nearby had fallen silent. Peake’s mustache twitched. “That’s ridiculous! You’ve made a mistake.”
Agent Lam gave a hard smile. “I don’t make mistakes.”
The uniformed officer stepped forward and reached for Peake’s elbow. “This way, please, sir.”
Landon’s eyes were wild. A flush worked its way up from his shirt collar, his usual polish oozing away.
He resisted long enough that the officer reached for the cuffs hanging from his belt.
With a smothered curse, Peake gave in and allowed himself to be led from the room.
Guests in the close vicinity parted to allow the trio to leave.
“Good decision,” the special agent murmured evenly. She sought out Jackson, gave him a brief nod, and followed along behind, boot heels tapping sharply on the wooden floor as she left.
Alistair ran shaky hands over his face. “God, what have you done?”
“What I should have done before now.” He had no regrets. “Chief Martinez from Pine Springs will be in touch with you soon. I suggest you think about what you’re going to say. He’s a decent guy but I wouldn’t advise you to hold out on him.”
Jesus Christ, this night was turning out to be a lot.
He was suddenly desperate for Leah’s unique brand of comfort and reassurance; he craved being inside her orbit. She was his strength and his purpose. How had he not seen it until now?
Jackson left his father without another word, feet slowing as he gradually neared the bar.
Leah, with her back to the room, was unaware of his approach.
Her spine was a little less straight now, her elbows propped sloppily next to an empty shot glass.
Riotous curls flowing loose, she outshone every primped and lacquered person in the room.
Pausing behind her shoulder, Jackson looped a strand of black hair around one finger, so lightly she didn’t even feel his touch.
He let it fall again, digging around for the right words, the right place to start.
Leah finally turned her head. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed and softened by alcohol. She listed a little to the left. It was pretty obvious she’d missed all of the drama of Peake’s arrest. “Oh, Jax. I’m the worst date ever.”
“How d’you figure that?”
She blinked at him steadily. “I meant to be so elegant and charming you’d have to eat your words. I wanted you to be blown away.” Her downturned mouth was endearing.
“Job done, I’d say, Raven.” He leaned one hip against the bar, relaxation easing through his bones.
She ignored him. “But then your dad was a dick and I shouted at your parents and my hair fell down and I drank so much to try to blot it all out that I thought it would be best to stay over here.” Leah searched his face with shadowed eyes.
“I’m kind of sorry I embarrassed you but I’m also not sorry I said what I said. ”
“You haven’t embarrassed me, Leah.” His voice was gruff. “You couldn’t if you tried.”
She looked confused. “I didn’t try. I promise. I tried to be the best date you’ve ever had.”
“And you succeeded. Best. Prettiest. Most memorable, by far.”
Leah shook her head, unconvinced. “Not true. Not true at all. That’s the drink talking.”
Jackson laid an unsteady hand over his heart. “I swear it’s true. I’ve hardly finished a drink all night. I’ve been rubbing shoulders instead.”
She studied his hand so closely her eyes nearly crossed. “I wish you’d rub my shoulders.”
He had a sudden need to clear his throat. God, she was adorable. “What have you been drinking, Raven? You were sober when I left you.”
Leah brightened. “You need to meet Lucas. He’s my new friend. He gave me a Fireball.” She waved over the bartender, hitting herself on the nose in her exuberance.
“Not just one, by the looks of it.” Jackson kept his tone shy of accusatory but his glare was sharp enough that Lucas the Bartender raised both hands in easygoing surrender.
“I cut her off after the fourth. She’s been drinking shots of apple juice for the last fifteen minutes and she hasn’t noticed yet.” The bartender grinned, saving the empty glass from Leah’s elbow.
She propped her chin on her hand. “Look at the two of you getting on so well. I knew you would because you’re both so clever.
Lucas is the best cocktail maker in all the world, Jax.
You should see him make the ombré one that’s darker at the bottom—it’s amazing!
And Jackson is brilliant at everything, Lucas. Honestly, there’s nothing he can’t do.”
Jackson rubbed his ear. “I think it’s time to go home, Leah.”
“He is a super high-powered property-developing executive person—” She stumbled over the words and waved her hand. “But he can also fix things and make things and change lights. And he knows about tires. And he’s the best bodyboarder I’ve ever seen.” She was unstoppable.
Lucas didn’t bother to hide his laughter. “Wow. Your boyfriend sounds quite the catch.”
Jackson shot him a dirty look but there was no heat in it. He felt absurdly proud of being the object of her praise. If only he possessed the same generous spirit she did. If only he was that kind of person.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Leah shook her head so firmly she almost overbalanced, and he caught hold of her arm to make sure she didn’t.
“Jackson’s my landlord. He’s way out of my league.
” She swept a lock of hair out of her face and reached toward the suspended lights hanging down from the ceiling.
“He’s up here and I’m like—” Leah waved a wobbly finger at the floor.
He saw the hurt in the slope of her lips before she wiped it away with a resolute but bleary smile.
“Only in height, short stuff. You outstrip me in every other way.” He needed to get her out of here before she smashed his heart to pieces. “Let’s head home. We don’t need to stay any longer.”
“Where are Sam and Kash? I came in their car.” Leah’s head swiveled to scan the milling guests.
“We’ll find them on our way out. I’m driving you home.” He helped her down from the stool, stood as she insisted on hugging Lucas goodbye, and steered her gently across the room.
Natalia intercepted them halfway; reading his intent as they approached. “Oliver and I can finish up here. Any last instructions?”
“The event coordinator assures me the clean-up is all in hand, so there should be very little to do. Call me if you need me but we’re heading out now. Can you tell Sam and Kash I’m taking Leah home?”
“See you soon, Tally!” Leah said, smothering her in an exuberant hug.
“Wow, someone’s made full use of the bar,” Natalia sniggered, returning her embrace.
Ten minutes later they were in his car. He’d always intended to drive home, although he’d assumed he’d be heading for his condo, even though most of his belongings were now in packing boxes.
Bone-tired and on edge, Jackson’s fingers were clumsy as he made sure Leah’s seatbelt was fastened and shifted the Aston into drive.
For once, the I-90 flowed freely. Light and shadow played starkly over Leah’s face as they headed out of the city. He thought she might fall asleep quickly but she held on for some time, her cheek against the seat rest, head turned, dark eyes blinking hazily in his direction.
“I love this car,” she said eventually. “It’s so pretty and so smooth. Just like you.”
Jackson gave a gruff chuckle. “You’re going to have such a headache in the morning.”
Leah’s sigh was the lightest exhale of air. Her breath smelled of cinnamon and whiskey. “At least it’ll take my mind off my heartache.”
If he hadn’t been driving, he would have closed his eyes as his chest cracked wide open. “Leah—”
She didn’t let him finish. “Florence’s brother says Landon Peake isn’t allowed to lend money with menaces.”
“Florence’s brother?”
“Chief Martinez.”
“Ah. That makes sense.” Jackson gave a slow nod, glancing sideways at Leah. “I think you missed it, but Peake was there tonight. He bought a ticket in someone else’s name. Two officers arrested him.”
Her lips parted. “In front of everyone?”
“Yeah.”
“I wish I’d seen that.” She laughed. “He’s a snaky, no-good sneaky-snake. I’m glad he had a worse evening than me. I should never have come. It was a stupid idea.”
“Leah—”
She interrupted him again. “You’re donating the auction money to Cricklade House.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone deserves to feel safe, Leah. No one should have to sleep in a shed.” He concentrated hard on the road. “I can’t change the past and I wish I could do more. But it’s a start.”
She hmmed softly and fell silent. He felt her eyes on his face. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.” He held his breath. Whatever she asked, he’d tell her the truth. Whether she’d remember or not. Whether this was the right time and place or not. He was done with holding back.
“What’s your favorite memory of us?” There was something so wistful in her voice that his fingers tightened on the wheel.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start, Raven.” A movie-reel of moments played on fast forward through his mind. “But having you stroke my hair after my migraine was a highlight. I was ready to die until I felt your fingers on my face.”
Leah’s eyelids fluttered. She curled the palm of one hand beneath her cheek to cup her chin. “If I die and I’m still alone, I’m hoping one of my book boyfriends will keep me company in the afterlife.”
Jackson shook his head and swallowed. His eyes burned.
It took him two tries to clear his throat enough to speak.
“If you die and you are alone, it will only be because I’ve let you slip through my fingers.
And if I’m that much of a dumbass, I give you—and every book boyfriend you’ve ever had—my permission to haunt the shit out of me. ”
She smiled sleepily. “Thanks, Jax. That’ll be fun.”
He wasn’t sure if she’d properly taken in his words. And he didn’t get the chance to check. When he turned his head to look at her, Leah’s eyes had closed.