Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
ANDIE
Tripping into the kitchen around five in the morning, I’m surprised to see the guys already congregated around the center counter island, drinking coffee. I think I got maybe ninety minutes of sleep after Jax left my room.
My hair, still damp from the shower Jax and I took, is styled in a loose fishtail braid that falls over my shoulder. What I notice most is how sore my body is from the pounding it took from Jax. I may also have gleaned several finger imprints and bite marks over my chest, hips, and ass cheeks when I caught my naked reflection in the bathroom mirror. Jax and I were not gentle with each other.
I’m already dreading today, not knowing what’s going to happen tonight. I hope the guys have figured something out because the clock is ticking. But first, I need to find a way to get Sarah out of the house. I don’t want her anywhere near here tonight, if things go bad. Which I’m pretty sure they will.
“Good morning,” I mumble to no one, walking over to the coffee maker.
I ignore the visceral heat in Jax’s eyes when he looks up at me from where he’s standing next to Keane, because, damn , I want to go another round with him right now.
Rafe steps in front of me, stopping me from getting to my caffeine fix. Not a smart move on his part. When he doesn’t get out of my way, I notice he’s staring at the hickey on my neck, and I immediately feel guilty. But then I think, fuck you. He’s engaged to my prissy cousin. We’re not together anymore. He can shove whatever opinion he has about the matter up his ass.
“I’ve got it. Sit down and eat.” Rafe pushes me over to the plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast I hadn’t noticed on the counter.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Keane says because, of course, he has to be an asshole first thing in the morning.
I look down at myself. I ran out of clothes that would fit me. This was the only thing left in my closet that did. The wrap dress has three-quarter sleeves, long enough to cover the injuries on my right arm and shoulder. They’re scabbed over and healing nicely, so I stopped bandaging them. I’m just thankful the lingering bruising on my face can be easily covered with the make-up I stole from Meribella’s bathroom.
I smooth a hand down the dress. It’s pale blue in color and hits above my knees. Fifteen-year-old me dressed in mostly prim and proper attire; stuff my mother would pick out for me. Wearing this dress now makes me feel like a kindergarten teacher or a librarian. All I need are some reading glasses to complete the look.
“It’s called a dress, jackass,” I tell Keane.
His gaze roves slowly over me. He may ridicule what I’m wearing, but his eyes tell a very different story.
Jax comes up behind me as I’m spearing a forkful of fluffy eggs into my mouth, and I almost spew the food all over the countertop when he drops down and lifts up my dress.
“What are you doing?” I ask almost breathlessly, because yeah, my mind is skydiving straight into hell with a slew of very dirty, lurid thoughts about what his tongue and fingers did to me mere hours ago.
Jax doesn’t answer me. He straps something to my upper thigh. When he stands back up and reaches for his coffee, I hitch the right side of my dress up to my waist to see what he did. A leather knife holster grips my flesh, but what’s most shocking is that secured within it is his knife.
“Jax, I can’t take this.”
“And yet, you will,” is his response.
His scarlet-handled knife is like an extension of him. There hasn’t been a day since we were twelve that he hasn’t carried it around with him. I also know the death toll it carries, and the thought of having something that has killed so many sends a shiver down my spine.
Rafe looks suspiciously between me and Jax and frowns. Does he suspect that his best friend fucked me within an inch of my life a few doors down from where he sleeps? Inside my head, I’m gloating that I can make him jealous. Just to needle him, I give him a saucy wink and drink my coffee. His frown deepens.
Still scowling at me, he asks Keane, “Has she agreed?”
“ She is standing right here,” I snap at him. Seriously, what the hell? I set down my mug and turn to Keane. “And the answer is yes. Not like I had much of a choice. I went with the lesser of two evils and ding, ding , you win hands-down over Alejandro.”
Rafe tries to hide his hurt expression, but I catch it, and it makes me feel like shit. But, honestly, what does he expect after everything that has happened? Ignoring the niggly finger-jab of my conscience, I run my hand over the knife’s holster. Jax giving this to me packs a lot of different meanings, many of them too personal and ones I refuse to acknowledge. It also shows that he trusts me, and the fact that Keane and Rafe have said nothing means they must have a sliver of trust in me as well. Why else give me a weapon that I could so easily use on them?
“So, what’s our story?” I ask Keane. “My father isn’t going to believe for one second that we’ve been secretly seeing each other while I was in Switzerland. Besides, he had a fucking tracker on me. And it’s been a week since you guys found me at the warehouse. So again, not believable that we’d suddenly fall in love while hiding out and evading Declan and his bomb-happy trigger finger,” I continue. Did he even think this plan out at all?
“We can tell him we secretly eloped before you left.”
My eyes widen at the stupidity of it all. “I was fifteen! What backwoods state do you think we live in?”
Keane runs a frustrated hand over his jaw.
I want to roll my eyes. “You guys really are stupid as hell. You should have discussed this with me beforehand. Jesus ,” I complain.
Keane slams his fist down on the counter island, those dark brows furrowing with anger. “Forgive me, princess, if my plan to save you from marrying Alejandro and becoming his tortured fuck toy doesn’t meet your grandiose expectations. You’ve done nothing but lie your ass off to us and cause trouble since the moment we rescued you.”
The nerve of this guy. I mirror his outburst with one of my own and slam my hands down on the table, rattling the coffee mugs.
“Rescued me? You kidnapped me! I’ve been cut, hit, choked, body slammed, thrown in a goddamn pit, and almost blown up!”
Jax covers my clenched fist with his hand. I take a deep breath and focus on the letters tattooed across the backs of each of his fingers: DEATH. Keane’s eyes go directly to where Jax is touching me, and his jaw clenches until the vein in his neck throbs visibly when I make no move to extricate my hand from Jax’s.
“You both need to keep it the fuck down before one of the others hears you,” Jax warns us, his voice low, so it doesn’t carry.
He looks around the room to check to see if nosy ears are eavesdropping. Rafe walks over to the kitchen entryway and nonchalantly pokes his head out. There is one camera that I know of that monitors the kitchen. Hopefully, it looks like we’re arguing and not up to something.
“Clear.”
Whispering over my coffee mug so it looks like I’m taking a sip, I tell Keane, “From now on, I need to be included in any future discussions. If you’re doing this with me, then do it with me. If not, then stay the fuck out of my way.”
Rafe keeps his position near the door. “She has a point. If we’re going to do this, we do it together. Keane, fuck, man. You know how badly I want out. I don’t want this life anymore. The price we pay is too high, and I want some fucking peace before I die. I’m tired of the death and the drugs and the fucking high body count. I’m not losing someone else I care about.” He drops his eyes when I look over at him. “We already lost a brother,” he quickly adds.
He means Kellan.
Since I woke up this morning, I’ve been dissecting the deal my father made with Rafe’s father and came to the same conclusion I did before: Why give me to Alejandro when Rafe is going to marry Rita? There’s something else going on that I’m not seeing. Since I’m the last Rossi heir—and this is assuming my father hasn’t sired any other children that I don’t know about—he must know that as soon as I produce a male heir, Julio will more than likely break the agreement and start a war to take over my father’s empire. Having me married to his oldest son, the future king of the Ortiz Cartel, would make the coup legitimate.
“I honestly don’t know why we can’t just put a bullet in Max’s head and be done with it,” Jax states matter-of-factly. I’d had a similar thought the day I arrived here.
Keane shakes his head slowly from side to side. “Cut off one head of the hydra, and another springs up in its place. We have to do this carefully. Smart. Marrying Andie would cement my standing in the organization. I think I could get Dom to support me. He hasn’t been happy for a long time with how Max has been running business. He doesn’t want this merger with Julio. I need to garner more support, get more allies. It’ll take time. It can’t be half-assed, and we can’t leave any loose ends. Otherwise, we’ll be looking over our shoulders the rest of our lives.”
His plan has merit. Perhaps it’s not a lost cause after all. Or maybe I’m getting my hopes up. I look at the three men before me. Maybe I’m being played. Keane is my dad’s second now, having quickly filled the role that used to be Kellan’s. What he’s suggesting is a complete power restructure with him at the top of the pyramid. Power. Control. Money. Reputation. Respect. Is that what Keane is after? Am I being used and manipulated once again? A means to an end?
And then there are Jax and Rafe. They’ve been Max’s trained pit bulls for a very long time. They are still working for my father. They could have jumped ship after Kellan died. Given my dad a big fuck you and left. But they didn’t. They stayed. And now, I’m supposed to believe that after hearing my sob story—albeit a horrifically true one—has them plotting with me to take my father down.
I’m being played. I have to be. There is no other rational explanation. Right? But then I remember how Jax held me and comforted me. How he fucked me.
“We can finish this discussion later,” Keane abruptly states, after checking his watch.
“Someplace you need to be?” I ask him.
“Something like that,” he replies and walks out of the kitchen.
“Surprised Rita isn’t here,” I casually comment, picking my coffee mug back up.
Rafe smirks at me, and I want to smack myself for being so obvious.
“I don’t do sleepovers.”
Jax bends to my ear, his warm breath cascading over my neck and going straight to my clit. “I need to get back to work. Don’t get into any trouble.”
My eyebrow quirks up, but I nod yes. With Father returning soon, there are a few things I need to do to prepare for tonight. What we’re about to set into motion—there’s no coming back from it. I also need to borrow an evening gown, and I know just the woman to talk to.
But first, I’m going to spend some time with Sarah, and then find a way to get her the hell out of here. This may be the final time I see my niece. She’s the last piece of Kellan I have. She’s also my new purpose. And I’m about to serve myself up to slaughter in order to make sure Sarah gets to live a life free from the devil.