Chapter Six
Kane
Jade’s hair brushed my chin with every breath. One bare leg hooked over my thigh, warm and heavy against my skin. She’d anchored her hand flat on my chest, right over my heart, while we slept.
I woke without my pulse racing or ghosts clawing out of sleep. No gunshots echoed in my head. No old scenes replayed behind my eyes. The steady rise and fall of her breathing filled the room instead, peaceful in a house where the memory of violence hadn’t yet visited this morning.
I lay still and watched dust drift through the light. My palm rested against the small of her back under the blanket, fingers spread, feeling cotton and heat -- proof she hadn’t vanished while I slept.
She shifted with a soft sound, then burrowed closer. Her nose brushed my throat. Muscles went tight for half a second, breath catching, then eased when awareness settled in.
“Morning,” I murmured.
She tilted her head enough to meet my gaze. Strands of hair cascaded across my arm while sleep softened her eyes, lashes clumped together. The bruise on her cheek had lightened but remained ugly, a mark I couldn’t help noticing.
“You sleep okay?” I asked.
A slow nod followed. “No nightmares. First time in months.”
Relief crashed through me alongside something close to pride. “Good. This house scares off monsters pretty damn well.”
Her mouth curved. “This house has you.”
“Same thing.”
A snort escaped her before she winced and shifted her leg. “Everything hurts in a weird way. Not bruised. Just sore. Like I used muscles I forgot existed.”
“Range yesterday,” I reminded her. “Adrenaline wears off. Tension lets go.”
“Maybe.” Her gaze dipped lower, slow and deliberate. “Either way, the view helps.”
I lifted a brow.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Sharp. Insistent.
We both froze.
I reached for it without moving my other arm. Spade’s name lit the screen.
Duty shoved everything else aside. “Yeah.”
His voice sounded wrecked. “Got something. You and Jade need to come in after breakfast. Bring coffee. I’ve been staring at this shit all night.”
My gut tightened. “The SUV?”
“That and more.” A pause. “I think I found your girl’s insurance policy.”
I went still. “You have the drive?”
“Yeah, and we found something else.” Another pause. “Face-to-face. Feed her first.”
The line went dead.
Jade watched my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Spade dug up something tied to Jason,” I told her. “He wants you there.”
Fear flickered, then settled into something steadier. “Okay.”
“You want a few minutes?” I asked. “No rush.”
She shook her head. “If I stay here, I might never leave. That feels dangerous too.”
A grin tugged loose. “Not the worst danger you’ve faced.”
“Still pacing myself.”
We untangled slowly. Cold air bit as soon as she slid out from under the blanket. She made a startled sound and grabbed my hoodie from the end of the bed.
I watched her pull it on. Sleeves swallowed her hands. The hem hit mid-thigh. She already wore my shirt. She looked like she’d robbed me and planned to do it again.
She caught me staring. “Coffee first. Then staring.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We moved around each other in the small space, shoulders brushing, hips bumping. She claimed the bathroom for a few minutes. I pulled on jeans, a clean shirt, then my cut. The new patch still felt stiff across my back.
In the kitchen, I started coffee and scrambled eggs. Routine helped. Control helped.
Jade sat at the table, arms wrapped around herself, watching me.
“Keep feeding me this way,” she warned, “and my standards will skyrocket.”
I shook my head. “I only make eggs, bacon, and grilled cheese.”
She smiled anyway.
We ate in comfortable silence. I slid extra toast onto her plate. She accepted without hesitation.
“How are you holding up?” I asked. “After yesterday.”
Her gaze dropped to the table while she considered. “Scared. Tired. Though somehow stronger. The sensation reminds me of finding my spine again.”
“Your spine never went missing,” I said. “You needed a safe place to stand tall.”
Her eyes softened. “I have that now.”
“Yeah.”
She glanced at the fence. “Think he’ll drive by again?”
“If he does, I hope he waves,” I said. “I think Spade needs a better look.”
“And if Roth doesn’t drive past?”
“Then we make him.”
That earned a small laugh.
Inside, the clubhouse smelled like coffee and pancakes. Marci worked the griddle. Ace stole one and dodged her swat.
“Morning,” Marci called. “You eating?”
“Already did,” I said. “Spade called us in.”
“Of course he did. Man lives on caffeine and spite.”
Jade lifted the travel mug. “We came prepared.”
“Smart.”
Spade’s office door stood half-open. Voices drifted out. I knocked once and pushed it wider.
Screens glowed everywhere. Spade looked wrecked. Atilla leaned against a cabinet. General sat back, watching. Knuckles sprawled nearby.
Spade appeared haggard, with bloodshot eyes and stubble darkening his jaw.
“You resemble death warmed over,” I told him.
“Accurate assessment.” He grabbed the coffee from Jade and gulped down half the contents in three desperate swallows, as though someone might snatch the mug away. “God bless your beautiful soul.”
She took a seat near the desk. I stayed behind her, hand resting lightly on the chair.
Spade turned a monitor toward us. “I dug into Jason Fairmont’s case,” he started. “The DA leaned hard.”
“Because they wanted someone higher,” Jade said quietly.
Spade nodded. “Your brother sat in a sweet spot. Useful. Disposable. When they grabbed him, he talked.”
He clicked through documents. Redactions everywhere. “He gave specifics,” Spade continued. “Names. Routes. Fronts. Enough to scare his bosses. Here’s the part someone missed. He mentioned a secondary record, and that one of his contacts knew about it. Told them he’d given it to his sister.”
Jade went pale. “The flash drive.”
“They didn’t take him seriously,” Spade said. “Street-level guys did.”
“Roth,” she breathed.
“Or someone above him.”
Another file opened. Ledgers. Codes. Accounts.
“This drive ties into a bigger skeleton,” Spade said. “Jason tracked everything.”
“He always did,” Jade said. “Notebooks. Lists. Details.”
Spade studied her. “You want to see this?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Start small.”
He opened schedules. Dates. Abbreviations.
“That’s his handwriting,” she said. “RK. I think that might be Roth.”
“Good.” Spade made a note.
Videos came next. Grainy footage. Jason’s whispered voice logged drops and names.
Jade covered her mouth.
“He thought he could trade this for a way out,” Spade said. “He underestimated how far it reached.”
“And sent it to me,” she said. “Like a grenade.”
“He trusted you,” General said.
“What now?” she asked.
“We use it,” Atilla said. “Carefully.”
Plans formed fast. Pressure points. Names. Routes.
“And me?” she asked.
“You help decode,” Atilla said. “Then you rest.”
She didn’t argue. While her brother hadn’t exactly kept her in the loop on things, she seemed to know him better than most people. If anyone could figure out his system, it was probably her.
We left the office together. Her shoulders slumped once we hit the hall.
“You okay?” I asked.
She rubbed her forehead. “Sad. Angry. Confused.”
“All valid.”
Outside, sunlight hit her face. She breathed deep.
She noticed my expression. “Did they see something at my place?”
I didn’t lie. “Yeah. Well, I don’t know if see is the right word. Knuckles hasn’t had a chance to talk to me yet. He did say they found something.”
Her jaw tightened. I knew she had questions and wanted answers. Hell, I did too.
She looked at me. “Stay with me.”
“Always.”
That night, we lay facing each other again. Hands linked. Breathing slow.
“I’m glad I’m still here,” she whispered.
“So am I.”
Outside, the world kept spinning. Inside, she slept.
And I kept my promise.