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TO ALL WHO FIND LOVE:

Loveisawildride.Withoutthepassion,wewouldn’tsurrenderandconquerwhatwenever

thoughtcouldbeours.

Truelovestoriesdon’thavehappyendings,becauseforthosewhotreasureit,truelovenever

ends.

PART 1

Chapter 1

MAYFIELDREALTIESWASsituatedonthesixtiethfloorofTrumpTowerinoneofthe

mostpopularbusinessdistrictsofNewYorkCity.Iwasstandinginfrontofthelargewindows
inmynewoffice,watchingthebusystreetbelow.Hundredsofpeoplepassingby,barely
acknowledgingeachother.Soonforgotten.Twenty-fourhoursaday,sevendaysaweek,
somethingwasalwayshappening.Icouldfeeltheirrushofexcitement,thedread,thestress,
theanticipation,andtheiruncertaintywhetheraparticulardaywouldturnintoanepisodeof
acomedy,atragedy,oranythinginbetween.Ilikedtheideaofthemchasingtheirdreamsand
theirfutures.JustthewayIhadoncebeen.EversinceIwashiredbyJettMayfield,Ihad
enteredawhirlwindofchaos.Ihadmetthemanofmydreamsinthecityofmydreams.New
York,thecitythatneversleeps,wasmyhome;JettwasthemanIwantedtobewith,andwhile
everythingseemedperfect,Ifeltsomethingwasmissing:theanswerstomyquestionsabout
theLucazzoneestateIwasabouttoinherit.EventhoughIhadpromisedJettI’dstayinNY
withhim,becauseitwastheonlywayhecouldprotectmefromthem,Ifeltnopeaceknowing
thatpeoplewereafterme.

Asoftknockonthedoormademeflinch.Asecondlater,Emma’sheadappearedinthe

doorway.Hercageyglancetoldmeshehadn’tyetfullydigestedthefactthatIhadbeen
promotedfrommereassistanttoahigherpositionthanhers.Wehadbeenclosetobecoming
friendswhenIstartedworkingatMayfieldRealties.Nowshewasdistancingherself,whichI
attributedtomychangeinposition.Thepasttwoweeksshehadbeeneyeingmewith
suspicion,herpreviousfriendlinessreplacedbybadlydisguisedarrogance.

“IhopeI’mnotinterruptinganythingimportant,Brooke?”Hervoicewascoldand

sarcasticasherglancesweptovermestandingatthewindow.Shewasholdingahuge
bouquetofredrosesdecoratedwithpearlsinbetweentheirvelvetpetals.Igapedattherich
burgundycolorandtheexquisiteperfectionofthepetals.

Sheplacedtherosebouquetonmydesk.“Mr.Mayfieldaskedmetopersonallytakethese

toyou.”

Emphasison“personally,”asifthewordonitsownconveyedasecretmeaning.
IfeltmyselfblushingathearingJett’sname.
IwonderedifsheknewIwasdatingtheCEOofMayfieldRealties.Asifsensingmy

thoughts,sheturned,herlightblueeyespiercingthroughmewithdisdainandsomething
else.

Envy.
Pure,undilutedenvy.
Thekindthatcouldturnmeltinglavaintoice.Iflookscouldkill.
Igroanedinwardly.OfcourseEmmaknew.Shewasn’tstupid,justliketherestofthe

company’sNYheadquarters.Inthelasttwoweeks,JettandIhadtriedtokeepourcontactat
worklimitedtoastrictlyprofessionallevel,butofcoursethereweresubtlesigns:thewayhe
touchedthesmallofmybackwhenheledmeoutoftheroomorthewayhisfingertipsgrazed
myarmtoolongwheneverhetriedtogetmyattentionduringameeting.Ormaybeitwasthe
waywehadbeensittingtogether—tooclose,toointimate—myfranticheartthreateningto
burstoutofmychestwitheachbeat.Surely,ifIcouldhearit,thenothersmightaswell.

“Thanks,”Isaid,andwatchedherleave.Thedoorclosedbehindher,andIwasalone

again.Iretrievedthecardtuckedinbetweentheroses,andopenedit,myglancesweeping

overJett’sharriedhandwriting.

Formybeautiful,pregnantgirlfriend,

Jett

P.s.Thanksforthewildrideyesterday.

Ismiledandturnedthecardaround.

I’minmyoffice.Wehaveadealtogoover.

Joinmeifyou’renottoobusy.

Eversincestartingthisposition,Jetthadinvolvedmeinvariouscompanydeals,telling

mehetrustedmyjudgment.Ihadlearnedtheinsandoutsofhiscompany,theprojectsthey
hadbeenworkingon,dealingwiththetopclientsandseekingoutthemostdesirable
properties.So,naturally,whenJettinquiredifIwantedtogooveranewdeal,Iwasreadyto
jumpattheopportunity.NotonlydidIenjoyworkingwithhim,tomethiswasanotherexcuse
toseehim.

IthadbeenhourssinceIlastsawhim,andalreadyImissedhimlikecrazy.Bigneedy

girlfriendalert,butIcouldn’thelpit.Ifishedmymirrorandlipstickoutofmyhandbagtofix
mymakeup,andtuckedafewstraystrandsofhairoutofmyface.Happywiththeresult,I
grabbedmysmartphoneandacquisitionsfolder,andleftmyoffice.Thefoldercontainedall
myresearch,notesonpastandcurrentdeals,myschedule,anddailyto-dolist—incaseJett
neededanything.Icarrieditwithmeatalltimes,notleastbecauseJettwasn’tknownforhis
patience.Mystomachtwistedintoknots,andmykneesbegantoshakewithapprehensionasI
knockedonhisdoor.

“Yeah,”hisdeepvoicecalledout,betrayinghisirritationthewayitalwaysdidatwork.I

hadyettogetusedtohisbrisknessandone-syllablecommands.

Iopenedhisdoorandsteppedin,catchingmybreath.Hewassittinginhisleatherchair,

hisdarkhairframinghisface,thenewspaperinhishandshidinghisgreeneyes.Hisjacket
wasthrowncarelesslyonavisitorchair,andthesleevesofhiswhiteshirtwererolledup,
exposinghisstrongforearms.Hisshirtclungtohisbroadchest,leavinglittletothe
imagination.

Sexy.
Helookedlikethekindofmanyoucouldbeobsessedabout.Ineverknewthemeaning

oftheword“sexy”untilImetJettMayfield.

Justlookingathim,Ihadtoforcemyselfnottosmile.
“Closethedoor.”
Ifollowedhiscommand.“Thankyoufortheflowers.They’rebeautiful.”Regardinghim,I

inchedcloserandplacedthefolderonhisdesk.HeremainedsilentsoIcontinued,fillingthe
silence.“I’mdonewiththeColtonestatedeal.It’sallinthefolder,readyforyoutosign.”I
pointedatthefolderneedlessly,waitingforhimtolookinside.Jettfoldedthenewspaperand
placeditonhisdesk,andstood,hisintensegazefinallyfixingonme.Hisexpressionwas
unreadableasusual,buttherewassomethinginhiseyes.Hewaswatchingme,takinginmy
everymovement,whichmademenervous.

Howcouldheremainsocoolwhenmyheartwasflutteringinmychest,andIwasn’t

unsurewhethertojumpintohisarmsorleapoutthedoor?

“Anythingspecificyouwantedtotalkabout?”Iprompted.
Jett’sgazeremainedgluedtome.
Unreadable.
Unfazed.
Eversoslowly,hewalkedaroundhisdesk,hisheightbothintimidatingandarousing

me.Hislipscurledintoadazzlingsmile.Hisgreeneyessparkled,remindingmeofadarkwild
forest.Icouldstareintothemforeverandlosemyselfintheirdepths.

“Whatelsedoyouhaveforme?”Hisdeepvoicewasbarelymorethanawhisper,

caressingmysenseslikesilk.Hisfingersclaspedmychin,forcingmyheadup.Idrewashaky
breathandheldit,bothmesmerizedandterrifiedbyhisproximity.Histhumbbrushedmy
chinwhilehisotherhandtracedmyhips.Hisbodymovedagainstme,pinningmeagainstthe
closeddoor,knockingtheairoutofmylungs.“Ihopeit’smoreinterestingthanthedealsIhad
totakecareofwhenallIwantedtothinkaboutwasallthedifferentwaysI’dliketofuckyou.”

Hewasdoinghissexythingagainwithouteventrying.
“Thefile’sallIhaveforyou,”Iwhispered,mortifiedbymysuddenarousal.Mybodywas

likeabuttonforhim—easytopress,andtheheatwason.Everycellofmybodywantedhim
andprotestedwhenevermybraintriedtokeepatbaythecascadeoflustwreakinghavoc
withinme.

“Yousure?BecauseIthinkyou’remissingsomething.”Hishandtraveledsouth,pastmy

abdomen.

“Irecalladeal,”Jettwhisperedinmyear,sensingmyconfusion.Andthenhislipswere

onmyneck,biting,nibbling,turningmillionsofmysensebudsintosparks.Hishandscupped
myass.“OrshouldIsayabet?Someone’sabouttoloseandIwanttoclaimmyprize.”

Mycheeksflamed.
Oh,God!
I’dcompletelyforgottenthat.
EversincechallengingmetoagameofSpadesinItaly,Jetthadbeendelayingthe

inevitable.ThemostlikelyexplanationIhadwasthathewasafraidI’dwin,becauseIwasthe
bestSpadesplayerIknew,andImadenosecretofit.

“Areyoutalkingaboutourarrangement?”Ipushedhimaway,buthedidn’tbudge.His

touchbecamemorefocused.Hishotbreathcontinuedtocaressmyskinasonehandtraced
thecontoursofmybreastsoverthethinfabricofmyshirt.Hismouthwassoclosetomylips,I
couldsmellthefaintaromaofcoffee,mint,andhisintoxicatingscent.

“I’mtalkingaboutourbet,Brooke.Whoeverwinsthegamegetstohavewhateverthey

want,andrightnowI’dlovetotameyou.”

Arushofexcitementwashedoverme.
“Youcan’ttameme,becausetamingwouldimplyI’vesurrendered,andasfarasIknow

youhaven’twonyet,”Iwhispered.“Ifyou’rereadytolose,I’mchallengingyoutodayafter
work.Eventhoughwe’redatingandwomenaresupposedtolettheirboyfriendshavethe
upperhand,I’mnotgoingtoletyouwin.”

“Notafterwork…Iwantitnow.”Helaughedquietlyintomyear.“WhichiswhyI’veset

upatableoutside.Intheopen,whereIcanbesurethere’snocheating.”

Islappedhisarminmockannoyance,ignoringthesuddenurgetorunmyfingertipsover

hisstubble.“I’dnevercheat.”

“Iknow.”Hewinked.“ButI’mnotsureIwouldn’t.”
Iraisedmyeyebrows,andhisgrinwidened.HeknewhowIfeltaboutcheating.
“Iwastalkingaboutgaming,Brooke.”Helaughedatmyscowl,revealingperfectwhite

teeth.“I’dcheat…toletyouwin,baby.”

Iscowledagain.“Nocheating,Jett.”
Heignoredmystatement.Histeethgrazedthesensitivespotbehindmyear,then

moveddownmyneck.Stiflingalowmoan,Iwaitedafewseconds,andwhennoreplycame,I
added,“I’mserious,Jett.Ifyoucheat—inanyway—I’llbepissed.Iwantyoutogiveyourbest
becauseitwon’tbeenough.I’llstillwin.”

“Sure.”Helaughed,andhishandtuckedmyshirtoutofmyskirt.
“Seriously?”Istoppedhisimpudentmovementbeforehereachedmybraandshothim

mymostmenacingglare,hopingmyheavybreathingwasn’tgivingawaymyexcitementatthe
prospectofhishandsroamingovermybody.“Youhaven’twonyet.”

“Iwasjustgivingyouatasteofforeplay.”Jettremovedhishandandgrimaced,almost

disappointed.“AgameofSpades,then.Areyoureallyupforit?”

“Morethanyouthink.”Ishothimmymostself-assuredgrin.Soontheguywouldn’t

knowwhathithim.“Yousaywhenandwhere,andI’llbethere.”

“Thengrabyourstuff,MissStewart.Becausewe’redoingthisnow.”Hepickeduphis

jacketfromhischairandablackleatherbagfromthecouch,andusheredmeoutofhisoffice.

Withinminutes,westeppedintothecoldafternoonair.Visitorsandco-workerswere

gatheredingroups,turningaswewalkedpast.IsmiledbutpaidthemnoattentionbecauseI
couldn’tpeelmyeyesofftheonlypersonwhomattered.

“Wherearewegoing?”IaskedJettasheusheredmeintoawaitingtaxiand

communicatedtothedriveranunfamiliaraddress.

“It’sasurprise.Italwaysis.”
Ismirkedathismysterioussmile.
Oh,God.Ihatedsurprises.
Jettknewthislittlefact,andyethewasstilltryingtogethisway.Icouldonlyhopehe

wasn’taimingforcrazy.

Chapter 2

“I’MNOTGETTINGonthatthing.Sorry,”Isaid.JettandIwerestandingonanarrow

landingstripinfrontofthetiniesthelicopterIhadeverseen.Okay,Ihadneverseenonein
reallifesoIcouldn’treallyjudgeitbasedonitssize,butitlookedhorriblyfragile,withbarely
aninchofmetalstandingbetweenmeandadeepplungeintosuredeath.Jettknewhowmuch
Ilikedsolidgroundbeneathmyfeet.“Idon’twanttocrashanddie.”

“Noone’sdying,Brooke.”Hisbrowsshotup,amused.Infact,hewashavingahardtime

nottolaugh,whichIcouldtellfromthewayhislipskeptjerkingatthecorners.Mytemper
boiledjustalittlebit.Ihadissueswithheight.Nobigdeal.Alotofpeopledid.AndIwasready
totellhimjustthatwhenheinterruptedme.

“DoIhavetoremindyouthatyoualsowentonboardwithme?What’sthedifference?”
“Itwasaboat,Jett.Therewaswaterallaroundus,andIcanswim.Icannotfly.Idon’t

wanttogetonahelicopter,thousandsofmilesupintheairwithnogroundundermyfeet.”

“You’lllikeit,Ipromise.”Hewrappedhisarmsaroundmywaistandpulledmeclose.

Glaring,Iinhaledhisscent,fightingwiththevoiceinsidemyheadthatkepttellingmetogive
itashot.

Tryeverythingonce.
Nofrickin’wayinhell.
“I’vedonethisathousandtimes,andasyoucansee,I’mstillalive.Justcloseyoureyes

andholdontomyarmwhileIgetustoourdestination—safe.I’llhelpyouovercomeyourfear
ofheights,”Jettsaid,soothingmewiththatdeepvoiceofhisthatcouldprobablypersuadea
grizzlytogiveuphishalf-eatenprey.

“Tellthattomysubconscious.EvenifIclosedmyeyes,I’dstillknowyouwereflying.I’d

feelitinmybonesthatI’mhighupintheskywithnowaybutdown.”Thethoughtmademe
shiverwithdread,andatrickleofsweatrandownmyspine.

Jetttookahalf-stepback,regardingme.“What’swrongwithmeflying?”
Oh,God.Wasthattheonlythinghewasworriedabout?ThatImightbequestioninghis

competenceandabilities?Igroanedinwardly.

“I’msureyou’reanawesomepilot.”HowcouldIexplaintoamanwholovedtakingrisks

andwhohadoncebeenaddictedtoadrenaline,thatIwasscaredofalotofthings,including
flying,andthatIharboredabsolutelynowishtoovercomethisparticularfear—andespecially
notinahelicopter,whichwasmorepronetocrashingthananairplane.

“But?”Jettdrewouttheword,prodding.Whycouldn’thejustdropit?
Okay,Iadmit,maybeIcouldn’tpayhimthesamelevelofconfidenceImightgivea

professionalpilot.ThewayIsawit,wouldIratherhavesurgeryperformedonmeinahospital
ERbythepersonIhadhotsexwith,orbyapersonwhowasunbiased,withplentyof
experienceandaresumetodemonstratehisskills?AsmuchasIlovedJett,thedecisionwasa
no-brainer.

“Look.IknowI’mbeingunreasonable.”Iheavedanexaggeratedsigh.“ButI’mnotlike

you.”Itwastrue.Theguyhadnofears.He’djumpheadfirstintoanysituationjustsohecould
demonstratehewasn’tscared.

“It’snotthatdifferentfromaplane.Itjustfeelsmorereal.”Hiseyesglimmeredwith

pride.Icouldhearitinhisvoice.Icouldseeitinhisconfidentstance,andIwasonceagain
remindedhedidallkindsofcrazystuff,thankstohisfather’scompetitiveupbringingand

bankaccount.Andwhatdidhemeanby“real?”

Myfearwasinstantlymagnifiedatthethoughtofsensationsupintheairbeingmore

intense.Ididn’twantintense.Iwantedearth—oratleastaworkingparachute.

Takingonestepback,Ishookmyheadandcrossedmyarmsovermychest.Iwasnot

gettingonahelicopterwhereIcouldfeeleveryjolt,jerk,andshaking.Notwhenthetiniest
possibilityexistedthatabirdmightcollidewithus,orsomethingdroppedfromthesky,
makinguscrash.AndparticularlynotwhenJettmightbetemptedtoshowoffwithsome
impressiveaerobaticmaneuverinmidairsuchasloopsandspins.IhadseenthoseonTV,and
whilethecrowdusuallycheered,Ipreferredtostare,horrified,thankfulforchoosingmy
professionwisely.

“Mypointis,I’mnotkeenonbeingstrappedtoaseatwithnooptiontoexit.Iwanttobe

abletojump.”

Thecornerofhislipstwitchedagainatmychoiceofwords.Jumpingoffaplane—why

wasitsoeasytoimaginehimsuggestingjustthat?

Becauseit’sprobablyoneofhisfavoritehobbies?Donotevengothere,Stewart!
Ifeltsickalready.HoldingontoJett’sarmforsupport,Itookadeepbreathandletitout

slowly.Jettbegantorubmyback,butthemovementdidn’tmanagetosootheme.

“Baby,there’snothingtobeafraidof.We’renotflyingfar,”heinsisted.“Everyone’s

doingitinNY.Itwillbefun.”

Yeah,right!
Funforhimtofly.Nightmareforme.Butfunforhim,nevertheless,toseemesweatinga

river.

“Whycan’twejusttakeataxi?”
“Becauseit’dspoilyoursurprise.”
Icoveredmyeyesandgroaned,hatingthefactthatIhadtodisappointhim,hatingthe

factthathekeptpersisting.“AsmuchasIwantto,Ican’t.”

Hecuppedmyfaceandplacedasoftkissonmylips.“Iwantyoutoseeyourhometown

thewayyou’veneverseenitbefore.Anddon’tsayyoucanwatchitallonTV,becausethat’s
notthesameandyouknowit.”Heforcedmygazeuptomeethis,andhisvoicesoftened.“I
knowyou’rescared,butdoyouknowwhyIwanttoshowyoueverything?Theboat,thesea,
Italy?”Ishookmyhead,notknowingwherehewasheading.“Iwanttobeonyoursidewhen
youexperiencethingsforthefirsttime.Iwanttobethefirstoneineverythingyoudo.”

Mybreathhitchedinmythroat.“Why?”
“Becauseyoutaughtmethatfirstmomentsmatter.Wedon’tforgetthem.Likeourfirst

kissorourfirstdate.OrthewayI’mgoingtokissyou,righthere,rightnow.”

Inoneswiftmovement,hepulledmetohim.HislipsfoundminewithahungerIhad

neverseenfromhimbefore.Itwasdelicateyetpossessive,softyetdetermined.Adelicious
shivertorethroughmewithwarmththatradiatedfrominsideout,fillingme,calmingmea
little,persuadingmethatIwasready.Myheadwasspinningwhenhepulledback,andfora
fractionofamomentIforgothewasstillwaitingformydecision.

TherewassomuchhopeandwarmthinhisgestureandexpressionthatIknewIhadlost

thebattlewithmyself.ForhimIwasgoingtofacemyfears.

Asifsensingmycrumblingresolution,Jettsaid,“Youwererightwhenyousaidthatno

matterhowmanyyearsmaypassorhowmanygoodorbadexperiencesyouhaveinlife,first
memoriesarepriceless.Fromnowon,Iwanttobeinallofyours,sonoonecantakethem

fromyou.Fromus.”

“I’mstillafraid.”
Thewindblewastrandofhairinmyface.Gently,hepusheditback,hiseyesfocusedon

me.

“Allbeginningsarescary,likeallendingsaresad,butthat’sthejourneyandeverything

inbetweenisworthexperiencing.Hegesturedatthehelicopter.“Iwasjokingaboutmeflying.
Iwanttositnexttoyouandenjoythetour.Iwanttoholdyourhand,helpyougetoveryour
acrophobia,soI’vehiredaprofessionalwho’llshowustheview.Ifyouseeitthrough,youtake
thefearoutofflying.Youknow,fearisnothingbutatrickofyourmind,becausewebothknow
you’veneverbeeninahelicopter.You’venevercrashed.Theoddsareoneinabillion.”

ItookadeepbreathandnoddedslowlybeforeIcouldchangemymind.Ifiguredinthe

eventwecrashed,atleastI’ddiewithasexyguyonmysideandplentyofhappymemories.
AndnobodycouldsayIhadn’ttriedtotalkhimoutofthismadness.

“Okay.”Iwhispered.“Butif—”
“Noifs,”Jettsaid,determined.“Everythingwillturnoutfine.Italwaysdoes.You’llsee

thisentireexperienceisgoodforourbaby,too.”

It’snotevenbornyet,IwantedtopointoutlikeIhadseveraltimesduringourheated

conversationwhenhementionedhisrigidbeliefsonprenataleducation.Jettsupportedthe
beliefthatthemajorityofneuronsinanadult’sbrainwereformedduringthefirstfivemonths
insidethemother’swomb.SoonafterourarrivalfromItaly,hehadstartedtoimplementhis
beliefbygivingmemoreresponsibilitiesandtasksatworksoourunborncouldlearn.Not
thatIcomplained,butclaimingconqueringmyfearswouldbenefitmybabywasridiculous.

Shortlyafter,ourpilotarrived.Hisreassuringsmilecalmedmealittle,andafterwewent

throughtheusualprecautionarysafetyandemergencyinstructions,Idecidedheseemed
competentenough.Ididn’tknowifmyfearwaswrittenacrossmyforeheadorwhetherJett
hadmentionedsomethingtohim,butheassuredmehehadthirtyyearsofflyingexperience.
Andthenmydecisionwasmade.

Jetthelpedmetogetintothehelicopterandthepilothandedusbothaviationheadsets.

Asheswitchedonafewbuttons,myheadstartedtohurtandmyheartbegantobeatsohardI
feareditmightbeabouttoburst.Beingafraidwasanunderstatement.Iwasparalyzedtothe
spot,barelyabletosuckinoneshakybreathafteranother.SittingnexttoJett,withhim
smilingatmeinthatconfidentwayofhis,Irealizedthatagreeingtogivethisatrywaspure
madness.IopenedmymouthtotellhimIhadchangedmymindwhenthemachinewhirredto
lifeandwebegantotakeoff.Mynailsdugintotheseatbecauseitwastheonlythingthatfelt
real—untilJettgrabbedmyhand.Thewarmthofhisfingersseepedintomyskin,soothingme,
remindingmethathewashereforme.WhetherIwanteditornot,Ihadtotrusthiswordthat
everythingwouldbeokay.

***

Jetthadpromisedthatthetripwouldbeoverintwentyminutes.Anditwas,downtothe

exactminute,eventhoughitfeltlikeaneternity.Duringourflight,thepilotshowedusthe
breathtakingsceneryNewYorkCity’sskylinehadtooffer.AswesoaredabovetheHudson
RiverandflewrightbythemagnificentStatueofLiberty,myawe,eventually,grewbiggerthan
myfear.Lookingdownatthehighbuildings,thelinesofvehicles,andthesmalldotsthatI

assumedwerepeople,Icouldn’tshakeoffthefeelingthatwehadbeentransferredtoa
differentdimensionwhererealityhadbecomefantasy,andtheordinaryhadturnedintothe
extraordinary.

Jett’seyesconnectedwithmine.“Areyouokay,baby?”hewhispered,thedeepbaritone

ofhisvoicebarelyaudibleovertheengine’swhirring.OnlythendidInoticethatIhad
tightenedmygriponhisarm.Iletgoquicklyandplacedmyhandsonthearmrests,my
knucklesturningwhiteasIclutchedatthemforsupport.

“I’mfine.”Inoddedjustincasemythinvoicebetrayedmylie.
Thehelicopterdippedlowoverthebeach.Gazingoutthewindow,Irealizedthat,being

rich,Jetthadprobablyseenitallbefore,andthateverythinghedid—hewasdoingitforme.
Toourleftstretchedoutthecity.Toourrightwasnothingbutsparklingwater.Thesunwas
shining,heatingmyfrozeninsidesandmeltingmycore.Ormaybeitwasn’ttheheat,butthe
wayJettkeptregardingme,histhumbstrokingmyskin,hisfingersinterlacingwithmine.

Jett’sarmwrappedaroundmyshoulders,andhepulledmetohischest.ToolatedidI

realizewhy.Mypulsepoundedhardandmystomachturnedasthehelicopterhitadowndraft,
andthenthepilotdescended.Iclosedmyeyes,sendingashortprayertoanyhigherpowerout
there.Jettlaughed,butthesoundbarelyregisteredwithme.Mybackwasslickwithsweatand
mylegsfeltsoweakIthoughtImightfaintonthespot.Andthenthehelicopterhittheground
withasoftthud,andthepilotswitchedofftheengine.

Iopenedmyeyeswarily,notquitetrustingthesuddensilence.Jettwasstaringatme

withanirritatinggrinonhislips.Iglaredathimandgrabbedhisoutstretchedhandashe
helpedmeup.

“Don’tsayaword,”Iwhispered.
“Iwasn’tgoingto.”Helaughed,whichwasworsethanwords.
Mylimbscontinuedtoshake,andIfeltoddlylightheadedashehelpedmeoutofthe

helicopter.Withasighofrelief,Isteppedfootontosolidground,thankfulthatitwasover.We
werestillalive,andforthatIwastemptedtokissthegroundbeneathmyfeet.Thepilotsaid
hisgoodbyeandtookoff,leavingJettandmealone.

“Youdidgreat.”Jettgrabbedhisbagfromthefloorandhungitaroundhisshoulder.

“Howareyoufeeling?”

“I’lllivesoIguess—”Ishrugged.Maybeitwasthehappinessattheprospectofhaving

madeitoutalivethaturgedmetotellthetruth,ormaybeitwastheadrenalinecoursing
throughmyveins,butforsomereasonIfeltatthetopoftheworld.“Tobehonest,itwasn’tas
badasIthoughtitwouldbe.”

Jettcockedabrow.“You’ddoitagain?”
Isnorted.
Hell,no.
Readingmymortifiedexpression,heletoutadeeprumblethatresembledalaugh.“I

knowyou,andyou’rechanged,baby.Doitagain,andyou’llneverwanttostepfootoutofthis
thing.”

Ibitmylip,fightinghardtocomeupwithakickasscomeback.ButJettwasright.

Somethinginmehadchanged.Iwasproudofmyself.AndwhileI’dbescaredtogetintoa
helicopteragain,deepdownIknewI’ddoit.

WhowouldhavethoughtthatI,themostresponsiblepersonIknew,hadadanger-

seekingboneinmybody?Ihadtotakeapicture,becauseSylviewouldneverbelieveit

otherwise.

“It’snotthatdifferentfromaplane,right?”Jettsaid,grillingme,windingmeup,waiting

todropthe“Itoldyouso”bomb.Iignoredtheamusedlookonhisfaceandshruggedagain.

“I’dsayyoucan’tcomparethem.Whenwehittheturbulence,IfeltlikeIwastheone

holdingupthechopperbythearmrest.”Iscannedtheareaoftheheliport.“Bytheway,where
arewe?”

“IntheHamptons.”
“Ah.”Whattheheckwherewedoingthere?IopenedmymouthtoaskwhenJettheldup

hishandtosilenceme.

“Comeon,MissStewart.Ihavebigplansforus.”Touchingthesmallofmyback,Jett

guidedmeacrosstheplatformtoadooranddownthestairsuntilwereachedthelowerlevel
andareceptionarea,whereamaninhisthirtieswaswaiting.

“Sir.Ma’am.”Heheldouthishandashesawusapproaching.
Jettshookitandwhisperedtome,“He’sourdriver.”
“Where’shetakingus?”
Jettwinked.“You’llsee.”
Igrumbledbutdidn’tcommentasIfollowedhimtoourwaitinglimousine.

Chapter 3

TENMINUTESLATER,thedriverletusoutinfrontofahugeRenaissancepropertywith

Greek-stylecolumnsandastonepavementleadingtoanarchedfrontdoor.Thekindof
mansionthatscreamedhighsocietyandcelebrities,luxuryandbuyingstuffnooneneeds.The
kindofmansionthatcanonlybefoundportrayedinmagazinesalongsideamulti-million-
dollarpricetag.WhileIhadseenitallbeforeduringmyvisittotheLucazzoneestate,thiswas
different.EventhoughIlovedtheestateinItaly,withitsmagnificentbackyardandthe
vastnessofitsrooms,itpaledincomparisontothecream-coloredbuildinginfrontofus.

“Wow,”Iwhispered.“Magnificent.”
“Itbelongstooneofourclients.”JettheldouthishandandIplacedmypalminhis,our

fingersconnecting.“MayIinviteyouin?”

“Sure.”IstifledthegiggleformingatthebackofmythroatathearinghisSouthern

accentsopronounced.Itwasstrange,becauseusuallyhetriedhisbesttohideit.

Hepulledasetofkeysoutofhispocketanddangleditinfrontofmyface.“It’soursfor

thenight.”

Ah,thenight.Iswallowedhardatthesuddenblastofheatrunningthroughmybody.
“Doesheknow?”Ididn’tknowwhatmademeasksuchaquestion.
“Youmean‘she’?No,shedoesn’tknow.It’sbeenemptyformonthsbecausetheprice

she’saskingisridiculouslyhighandnoonewantstobuyit.Itoldher,butshewon’tlisten.”He
trailedoffforamoment,asthoughannoyedthatsomeonewouldnotlistentohisexpert
opinion.Hewasanexpertwhenitcametoprimerealestate,sotheownerwasprobablyan
idiot.“Anyway,”Jettcontinued,“whydon’twetakeatouraroundthisplace?”

Isqueezedhishandtostophimbeforeheunlockedthedoor.“Jett,wecan’tstayina

propertythatwe’resupposedtosell.It’snotright.”

Hisintentgazefixedonme,andforamomentIthoughtIcaughtahintofamusementin

hiseyes.“Whynot?We’reheretogetafeelforitsowecancomeupwiththerightsalespitch.
Howelsearewesupposedtoflockitoffifwedon’tknowwhatwe’retalkingabout?”

Icouldn’targuewiththat.
Jettunlockedthedoorandenteredtoswitchoffthesilentalarm.Ididn’tmovefromthe

spotuntilhepeeredoutagainwithaquizzicallook.“Areyoucoming?”

Ishookmyhead.“Idon’tfeelcomfortablewiththis.Whatifshefindsout?”
“ShelivesinFloridaandaskedmetopersonallytakecareofit.”Hewinked.“WhichI’m

doing—literally.”

“Whatiftheneighborsseeus?”
Hepulledmeinsideandclosedthedoorbehindme.Itclosedwithaloudbang.I

regardedhim,shockedbyhisboldness.Jettdroppedthebagandturnedtofaceme.

“Whosayswecan’t?”HiseyeshadthatdangerouslookIhadfirstglimpsedthedaywe

hadsexonthebeach.Theonethatalwayspromisedasizzlingtime.Theonethatdidn’ttake
“no”forananswer.“Firstofall,we’reherrealtors,Brooke,andit’sinhercontractthatwe
enterthehouseinherabsenceatourconvenience.Andsecond,whatareyouafraidof?”He
raisedmychin,andhislipscamesocloseIcouldfeelhissexybreathashisvoicedroppedtoa
whisper.“AfterIwin,IgettochoosewhereandhowItakeyou.WhatifIwantithere?Willyou
denyme?”

Hisfingercurledaroundthebuttonsofmybusinessjacketasheopenedthemoneby

one.Onebuttonandthenanotheruntilmythinblousewasexposed.“WhatifItoldyouthat
theonlyreasonIbroughtyouhereistohavesexinthepool,onthebeach,inthebackyard,or
onthepooltable?”

“Thanksforyourhonesty.Butitdoesn’tmatter,Jett,becauseyouhaven’twonyet.”It

tookallmywillpowertopushhishandfromundermyblouse.

“Havingyoutwenty-fourhoursjustformyselfsoundstootemptingtoletyouwin.You

knowthat,right?”

“Peoplewhoreachtoofararetheoneswhofallfromthegreatestheight.”Mysmile

matchedhiscockygrin,whenallIwantedwastogetthisoveranddonewithsowecouldhave
sex,anywhere,everywhere.

“Brilliantpeoplelikemeneverfail.”
Seriously,hisegowassoinflateditwasbeyondmehowhecouldpossiblysqueezeit

throughthedoor.Irolledmyeyesathisarroganceandwalkedpasthim,takingtheplacein.
Wewerestandinginanopulentfoyerwithcandelabrasandamarblefloor.Inthemiddlewasa
staircaseleadingtotheupperstory.Behinditwasanopendoor,throughwhichIglimpsedthe
livingroom.OrwhatIassumedwasthelivingroom,becauseitwashuge—probablyaslarge
asanentireapartmentfloorinBrooklyn,witharchedbaywindowsandafireplacedominating
theentirerightwall.Jettshowedmetheupperfloorwithitsfiveoversizedbedroomsand
bathrooms,andyetanotherlounge.Thenwereturneddownstairstoinspectthelandscaped
backyard,theoutdoorBBQarea,thein-housecinema,the850-footfitnessarea,theopen-plan
kitchen,andanotherleisureroom.Ihadneverseensomuchopulence.

“Thisplaceisamazing.Whydoesshewanttosellit?”Isaid,backinthelivingroom.We

weresittingonthecream-coloredleathercouchfacingthefireplace,drinkingaglassofnon-
alcoholicredwine.Theglassdoorscoveredtheentirewall,throughwhichwecouldseethe
landscapedyardwithitsperfectlysculptedshrubsandbloomingmagnolias.Itwassoserene,
theworldoutsideforgotten.Atinyparadisejustforus.Onlyitwasn’tourparadise,andthe
poorownerdidn’tknowwewereintruding.Iputtheglassonthetableandsatupstraight,my
backnottouchingthesoftleather.

Jettshrugged.“Peoplechangetheiropinionallthetime.Whattheywantisn’talways

whattheyneed.Andthemomenttheygetwhattheywant,itlosesitsspark.”Jettshrugged
again.“Sheboughttheplacewhenshewasdatingsomemusician,instantlyassumingthey
wouldlivehereforever.Whenthingsdidn’tworkoutandshemetsomeoneelse,shemovedto
Floridaandforgotaboutthecharmofthisplace.”

“Areyousayingsheneverlivedhere?”
Henodded.“Shecomplainedaboutthelackofspace.”
Ialmostchokedonmybreath.Lackofspace?
Holycow.Ourentireneighborhoodcouldliveinhereandbarelyseeeachother.Ididn’t

wanttobeinquisitive,butmycuriositygottheupperhand.Ihonestlyneededtoputafaceto
thisplace.

“Whoisshe?IsitsomeoneIknow?”
“Maybe.Itdepends.DoyouknowKimDessen?”
“KimDessen?”Myjawdropped.“Wow.Youhaveherasaclient?”
Shewasn’tjustoneofthebiggestsinger-songwritersintheword;shewasacelebrity

famousforgoingthroughguyslikesomepeoplegothroughtheirunderwear.Scratchthat.She
hadmoreguysthanpeoplehadunderwear.ApangofjealousyhitmeasIrealizedthat

someoneassuccessful,well-knownandbeautifulasKimknewJett.Kimwasstunning,andso
wasJett.Twobeautifulpeoplebornintowealth—therehadtobesomesortofattraction
becausetheybothweren’tblind.

“So,youknowherpersonally?Like,mether?”Itriedtohidethetremorinmyvoiceby

forcingcheerinessintoit,butIonlyendedupmakingitworse.

“Acoupleoftimes.It’sherfourthpropertyI’mselling.”Heshruggedasifitdidn’tmatter.

Myheartdroppedatthewayheseemedtofindthehardwoodfloormoreinterestingthanme.
Hemetwithheratleastfourtimes.Alotcouldhappenduringfourmeetings.Likehaving
drinksandendingupinahotelroom,theirperfectbodiesentangledinsweat-soakedsheets.

Uncomfortablesilenceensuedbetweenus,duringwhichIpickedupasparkling

Swarovskicrystalcenterpiecefromthecoffeetableandturnedittowatchthesunlight
catchinginthedelicateredroses.MygazekeptskiddingbacktoJettasmyhandsglidedover
thesmoothglass.Sofragile.Soeasilyshattered.Justlikemyheart.Onetumblewasallit’d
take.Suchasfindingouthehadsleptwithher.Evenifithappenedbeforewemet,Ihadno
ideahowtodealwithit.WomenlikeKimDessenwithPlayboymodellooksgotwhatthey
wanted.IneverknewhowmuchIlovedJettuntilIrealizedthethoughtofhimwithsomeone
elsewasenoughtobreakmyheart.

Iswallowedpastthelumpinmythroatandputthecenterpiecebackinplace.
“Didyoutwo—”Mywordstrailedoff,fillingthevoidbetweenuswithunspoken

indictment.Ithadn’tbeenmyintentiontomakeitsoundlikeanaccusation,butsomehowit
cameoffassuchbecause,ifJettconfirmedmysuspicions,Icouldn’tstayinahousewherehe
oncehadsexwithsomeoneelse.

Jett’seyesnarrowedonmeandhisjawset.“Fuck,Brooke.She’sjustaclient.Idon’tsleep

withmyclients.”

Iavertedmygazetohidemydisbelief.Hesigneddeals—andalotofthem;hewhisked

offhisclientstoexpensiverestaurantsandstunningvacationdestinations.Didhereally
expectmetobelieveheandKimnevergotintimateonsuchanoccasion?

Hewalkedovertome.Icouldfeelhishandsonmyshouldersasheturnedmearoundso

thatIfacedhim,butIdidn’tlookup.

“Brooke,justbecauseI’maguydoesn’tmeanIsleepwithanythingwalkingontwolegs.

Kim’snotevenmytype.Nooneis,exceptyou.”

“Itwasjustaquestion,Jett.”
AquestionIwouldprobablyaskmyselfeverytimehemetsomeone.
AquestionIwouldalwaysbeafraidtoaskbecauseIknewinmyheartIdidn’thavethe

strengthtohandlethekindofanswerIfeared.AsmuchasIwantedtobelieveeverywordhe
said,andasmuchasIlovedhim,Ididn’ttrustlifewouldn’tsendanotherwomanhisway—
someonemorebeautiful,bettersuitedtohissocialstatusandlifestyle.Someoneableto
changehisfeelingsforme.

“It’snotabigdeal,”Ilied.Myeyesmethisgaze,imploringhimtodropthetopicbecause

Ididn’twanttosoundinsecure.Insecuritywasn’tanattractivetrait.

“Ijustwondered.That’sall,”Imumbledwhenhekeptstaringatme.
“Doyoutrustme?”Hisquestionwasunexpected.Inarrowedmyeyesinsurprise.
“Ido,”Isaid.
“Doyou,Brooke?”
Hemovedcloser,toweringoverme.Peeringintomyheart,hisgazelingeredonmetoo

long,makingmenervous.HewassotallIhadtoleanallthewaybacktolookintohisgreen
gaze.Greenlikeahauntedforestreflectingthemorningsun.SodeepanddarkIwouldhave
dippedmyfingersinittostainmysoul.Becausehauntedhewas—webothwerebyourpasts
—onlyheknewbetterhowtodealwithit.

AsJettregardedme,Icouldseethecolorofhiseyesshifting—thewayitoftendid,

dependingonhismood.Lighterwhenhewastired.Darkerwhenhewasagitatedor
infuriated.IrealizedIwasgettingtoknowhim.TherealJett.Andrightnowhewasdownright
angry.

“Doyoureallytrustme?”Hisfingertipslingeredonmycheek,coldasice.
“Insomeway,”Iwhispered.ButdidI?Hisexpressionchallengedmetotelltotruth.“I

don’tknow.Iknowyou’reinterestedinme,andnotintheestate.Ialsoknowyouwouldn’t
betraymytrust,butIfeelthere’salotmoretoyou.HiddenlayersthatIstillhavetogetto
know.”

Hisfacebetrayednoemotionsashemoistenedhislips,carefullypreparinghiswords.

“Brooke,I’mnotjustintoyou…I’minthisforthelonghaul.Idatedothers,butIalwaysknew
theyweren’ttherealdeal.Thatwhateverattractedmetothemwouldpass.Withyou,it’s
different.”

“Howdoyouknow?”Iaskedbreathlessly.
Hesmiled.“Youmakemewanttobeabetterperson,andIcannotimagineafuture

withoutyou.”Hisvoiceloweredtoawhisper.“Wehaven’tknowneachotherforlong,butdeep
insideIfeellikeweunderstandeachother.IfeellikeI’vebeenwaitingforsomeonelikeyouall
mylife.Besides,youmakemethinkofsexnonstopandthat’salwaysagoodsign.”

Icouldfeelmyselfblushing,myinsidesturningallwarmandfuzzy.Hewasn’ttheonly

onewhocouldn’tstopthinkingaboutsex.

“That’syourlibidotalking,”Ipointedout.
Heshookhishead.“No,itisn’t.YouturnmeonlikeIknowI’mturningyouon.Yourwet

pantiesareproofenough.”

Hisfingersbrushedmyneck,andthenhislipsgentlytouchedthesensitiveskin.Hishot

breathsentadeliciousshiverthroughme.“Ifwe’rebothhonestwitheachanother,ifwetrust
oneanotherandwementionwhateverisonourmindratherthankeepthingsburied,then
nothingcangowronginthisrelationship.Wewon’tlosethis.”Hepointedtotheairbetween
us.“Iwon’tletithappen.Itdoesn’tmatterwhatweoncedidandwhowesleptwith,because
theydidn’tmatterandtheknowledgeisallthatcounts.That’sallyou,orI,everneedtoknow.”

Hewasright.Ofcourse.Themerementioningofmyexwasenoughtomakehimjealous.

Ifitupsethimseeingmewithothersandhewasreadytoneverask,thenitwastimeformeto
letgoofmydarkthoughts.Icouldn’texpectfromhimsomethingthatIcouldn’tgiveinreturn.

“Ibroughtusheretospendtimealone.”Histonedroppedtoasexywhisperagain.“Are

youreadyforourgame?”

Iputonmypokerface.“Youbet.IfIwin,Iwanttogobacktoourapartment,andIwant

totortureyouinyourownwalls.I’llteaseyouallnightanddriveyoucrazyuntilyoubegfor
mercy.”

Hegrinned.“Now,thatsoundstempting,MissStewart.Iliketheideaofyoupunishing

me.Buttobehonest,rightnowIliketheideaoffuckingyou,ineverypossibleposition,even
more.We’renotgoinghometoday.”

Holycow.Helookedlikehemeantit.

Ilaughedashewalkedovertohisblackbagtoretrieveasetofcards.Andforthefirst

timeIwonderedwhyhehadbroughtsuchahugebag.Whatwashehidinginthere?

Chapter 4

DAMN!
Iwaslosingbigtime.
“Thisgamesucks,”Isaid.AsmuchasIwantedtocrossmyarmsovermychestto

expressmyfrustration,Ifirstneededthemtohideasmuchskinaspossible.Itwasn’tbecause
Iwasashamedofmybody.ItwasJett’shungrystarethatmademewanttohidebehinda
curtain.Ididn’tneedtoaskhimabouthisthoughts.Icouldseethemwrittenalloverhisface
asheponderedallthethingshewantedtodo—withme,tome.

Sittinginsidetheopenpavilioninthebackyardwithbarelyanyclotheson,Ifeltmore

exposedthanever.

Jetthadn’tbeenkiddingwhenhedemandedweplayourlittlegameoutside.Ijustdidn’t

expecthimtowantitoutsideonprivateproperty—hedidn’town.Intheyard,whereanyone
couldseeuslounging,laughing,andbeingcompetitivehalf-naked.

“You’resosexywhenyou’repissed,Brooke.”Hegrinned,andmyheartmeltedafew

inches.“IpromisewhenIwinthelastround,I’llconsidergoinginside.Ifyouasknicely.”

Sofar,hehadwonfiveroundsstraightinarow,eachtimegivingmeachanceto

“redeemmyselfandgetachancetowinthetwenty-fourhoursofpuresex”bywinningthe
nextround,whichheendedupwinning…again.

IfIcouldhavewipedthesmugsmileoffhisface,Iwouldhave.Witheveryloss,Jett

requestedthatIremoveonepieceofclothing,andwitheveryprotectivelayerremoved,his
smuggrinwidened.Hehadalreadyremovedmyshoes,socks,businesssuit,andbra…oh,God.
Washesniffingmyblouse?

“Whatthehellareyoudoing?”Iasked,mortified,fightingtheurgetosnagmyblouse

fromhishands.

“Smellingthescentofsuccess.I’mgivingyouonemorechance,baby.Youknowsixismy

favoritenumber.It’smyluckynumber.”Hewinked,justincaseIdidn’tgethisdrift.“IfIwin
onemoretime,IhavetoremoveyourpantiesandgettodowhatIwanttodowithyou.”

“Stopbragging,Mayfield.”IpulledupmylegstomychestsoIcouldrestmyheadonmy

kneesandhidemysmile.Tocallmypinksheerthong“panties”wasridiculouswhenitwasso
tinyandsee-throughyoucouldseeallthewaytoAlaska.

Hesniffedmyblouseagain.
“Givemethat.”Ileapeduptosnagmytopoutofhishands,coveringmyexposedbreasts

intheprocess.Jettevadedmyassault,laughing,ashisgazefocusedonthesidesofmybreasts
wheretheyseemedtospilloutofmyhands.

“Yousmellamazing,baby.Likeasummerdream.”
“It’scalledperfume.”
Hetookanothersniff,thenpointedtomytinythong.“Whateveritis,I’msurewhatI’m

goingtosmellnextisevenbetter.”

Iscowled.“Icanstillwin.”
Helaughedoutloudasheshuffledthecards.“Youkeepsayingthataftereachlost

round.”

“Let’sgetthisnonsenseoveranddonewith,”Isaidthroughgrittedteeth.
“Didn’tyousayitusedtobeyourfavoritegame?”Hecouldbarelyhidehiswickedgrin

ashepulledplayfullyatoneofmycurls.“Soundslikesomeoneisasoreloser.”

“Iamnot,”Iprotested.
Iwas.Bigtime.
ButIwasnowherenearreadytoadmitthattohim,andparticularlynotwhenIdidn’t

expecthimtowin.MyfatherusedtosayIwasthebestSpadesplayer.Ihadn’tlostinyears.I
knewIwasbeingchildish,butIcouldn’thelpmyself.Thatannoyinggrinofhiswasdrivingme
nuts,whichinturnmanagedtomakemeboldandcareless,takingrisksIwouldn’tusually
havetaken.Whatdrovemeevenmorecrazywasthefactthathealwaysseemedtoknowmy
nextmove.Theideaofhavingsexwithhiminastranger’shousefilledmewithshame
becauseitwasimmoral.Ihadtowin,justforthesakeofstoppinghimfromturningmeintoa
mirrorimageofhiswanton,sex-starvedself.Iwasn’tgoingtolosemymorals.

“Youhaveonemorechance.”Hekissedmyshoulders,hishotbreathbotharousingand

irritatingme.“I’llletyouwinifitmakesyoufeelbetter.”

“Itoldyou,nocheating.I’llbeatyoufairandsquare.Andthenwe’llgobacktoyour

apartment.Becausethere’snowayI’deversleepwithyouinastranger’shouse.Butletme
guess,you’donlyletmewinifIagreedtodoithere?”

“You’redamnrightaboutthat.”
“Well,inthatcase,I’mnotchangingmyplans.”Idrewalongbreathandletitoutslowly,

imploringmymindtofocusonthegameratherthanJett’spresenceandhislipsonmyskin.

“Me,neither.”Hewinked.“Luckily,Iwon’thaveto,whichmakesthisroundevenhotter.”
Ishookmyheadathisinflatedego.
MaybethistimeIwaslucky.Nobodycouldwinsixtimesinarow.Itwasimpossible.

Right?

Onewinwasallit’dtaketohavemysayandtakecontrolofthesituation.
Justoneoutofseven.Theoddsweren’tsobad.
“How’sitgoing?”Jettasked.Hewassittinginawickerchair,relaxed,ashesurveyedme

thewaysomeonewouldlookatpotentialprey.Hisgazebrushedovermyneck,myexposed
breasts,thenmoveduptomylips.Hewasclearlyrelishinghispre-coitalfantasies,unleashing
roaringchaosinsidemewithjustaglance.Sosureofhimself,whichmademenervousand
unabletothink.

Damn,Ineededmybraintowork—andfast—beforeitwastoolate.
“It’dbegreatifyouwerenaked,too,”Iadmitted.“Ican’tfocus.”
“Youthinkyou’llbeabletofocusonceI’mnaked?”Helaughed.“Sure,baby.Whatever

rocksyourboat.”

“Itwasn’tacompliment,”Isaid,irritated.“Ican’tfocusbecauseyou’restaringatme.”
“Fairenough.Thenletmehelpyoufeelmoreatease.”Hegrinnedandundidthetop

buttonofhisshirt.Myeyesfollowedhisfingers,drinkingineachmovement,asheunbuttoned
hisshirtallthewaydown—slowlyasifhehadallthetimeintheworld,revealingrowsof
tonedmuscle.Mygazelingeredonthetribaltattooonhisupperarmbeforemovingtohis
chiseledchestandthenarrowtrailofhaironhisabdomen.

Hewaspureperfection.
Forgetperfection—hewasagod,sentintotheworldtomentallytorturewomenwith

hisimpossiblysexybody.

Iswallowedhardandclenchedmylegstogethertohidethebetrayingsignsofmy

arousal.Ittookeveryounceofmywillpowertofighttheneedtoclosemyeyesforasecond,
justtoescapethefilmplayinginsidemymind.Hislipsonmine.Ourbodiesentwined,moving

inaccord,pleasuringtheotheraswesoughtourownrelease.Igroanedinwardly.WhydidI
havetotellhimtotakeoffhisclothes?Ishouldhaveknownbetter.

Hedroppedtheshirtonthefloor.
Notyourbrightestidea,Stewart.
Knowingtoowelltheeffecthehadonme,Jettsatbackinhischair,hisgazelingeringon

me,andIcould’veswornIcouldseethesexmovieplayingbeforehiseyes,too.Asharp
electricshockrandownmyspineandgatheredinmyabdomen,sendingdeliciousjolts
throughmyprivateparts.

Focus,Stewart.Hewantsyoutolose.That’swhyhe’spilingonthesexappeal.Whythehell

didyougivehimtheidea?

“Youknowtherearemanywayswecouldplaythis?”heasked.
Pureawesomenesscametomymind.
“How?”Iaskedcasually.Itwasmyturntodrawacard.Twoofspades.Idecidedtokeep

it.

“Youcouldgiveup,andI’dtakeiteasyonyou.I’devenagreetospendinghalfadayhere

andtheotherhalfbackinNY.Deal?”

Hewasabouttolose.ForsomereasonIcouldfeelit.Thiswasmychance.Ipeeredatmy

cards,confident.

“Thanks,butno.”Ilookedup,grinning.
“Yousure,baby?It’syourlastchance,”Jettsaid,grinningback.
Icouldseerightthroughhisbluff.
“No.”Ishookmyhead.“Becausethere’snowayyoucouldpossiblywinthisone.”
Hedidwin.Acoupleofminuteslater,Itossedmycardsonthetable.
Crap!
Ididn’tknowwhatwentwrong.ItmightbethewayJettwassitting,soconfidentand

sexywithhalfhisbodyexposed.Ormaybeitwasthewayhelookedatme,hiseyesalready
makingplanswhathe’ddotome.Ormaybe—andI’dneveradmitthattohim—hewasthe
betterplayer.Luckier,too.Whateveritwas,Iwasscrewed.

Jettstretchedouthislonglegs,obviouslyenjoyingeverysecondofhisglory.IfiguredI’d

nevergetmenandtheircompetitivealphabehavior.

Ishookmyheadindisbelief.“Howdidyoudoit?”
“It’scalledmotivation”—hiseyessparkled—“togetlaid.SeemsIwantitmorethanyou

do.”

“Idoubtit.”
Hisbrowsshotup.“YoudoubtIwanttosleepwithyoumorethanyouwantwithme?”
Heatshotupmyneckandface.“No,that’snotwhatImeant.I—”
Hebegantolaugh,andIclampedmymouthshut.
“Iknowyouweretalkingaboutmystrategy,”Jettsaid.“Icouldteachyoumytechnique.

Infact,Icanteachalotofthings,MissStewart.Thingsyouneverexperiencedbefore.”

Holymotherofdoublemeanings.
MyheartjumpedinmychestasIwatchedJettgetupandreachmeinonestep.
“Youknowyou’remineforthenightandIgettodowhateverIwantwithyou?”he

continuedinthatunfazedvoiceofhis.

Toocool.Tooconfident.Toomuchofeverything.
WhytheheckdidIthinkIcouldeverdealwithamanlikehim?Ifitwasn’tforourunborn

child,Imighthaverun.

Maybe.
Probablynot.
Becausehewaslikeadrug,andIwasaddictedtohim.
Inodded,barelyabletopeelmygazeoffhissculptedandverynakedchest.
“Doyouhaveanyideawhat’sinstoretonight?”Hekneeledbeforeme,handsrestingon

bothsidesofme,andoureyesconnected.Ipressedahandagainstmypoundingheart.DidI
haveanidea?No,butitsoundedsexyandforbidden.Whateveritwas,I’dtakeit.

“MayIhavethepleasure?”Withoutwaitingformyapproval,hisfingersmovedupmy

legs,puttingjusttherightamountofpressure.Awhiplashofelectricpulsesrushedthrough
me.Gentlyhepushedmylegsapart.Mybreathcameheavyashestartedtokissmyknees,
thenhiswayuptheinsideofmylegs.

Hislipscaressedmysensitiveskin,workingupwardcloserandclosertothegrowing

wetnessbetweenmylegs.Icouldfeeltheneedinsidemegrowingashekissedmythong,his
tonguerunningoverthedampspot.

Inspiteofthelayeroffabricseparatinghishotlipsfrommypulsatingclit,thesensation

wasstrongerthanIeverimaginedittobe.Iclosedmyeyesandasoftmoanescapedmy
throat…whenhestopped.Openingmyeyes,Iglanceddown,confused.Jettopenedhisbagbut
helditawayfrommesoIcouldn’tglimpsewhatwasinside.Hecaughtmyinterestedglance
butdidn’tcomment.

Excitementrushedthroughmeatthethoughofhimtakingcharge.Hehaddoneit

before.Only,thebagmademenervousbecause,forsomereason,itkick-startedmy
imagination,pushingittorunwildwithimagesofsextoysandkinkylingerie.

“You’renotamasochist,areyou?”Itriedtoreadhiscrypticexpressionandfailed.

“Becauseifyouare,weneedasafeword.AndyoushouldknowinadvancethatI’mnotinto
spanking,choking,infactanythingthatinvolvesunbearablepain.”

Helookedup,hisgreeneyesfullofmischief.“Painwasn’tquitepartofmyplans.”
Holyshit!
Whatdidhemeanwith“quite”and“plans?”
Iwouldhavegivenanythingtoknowhisplans,yethisreplywasascrypticashis

expression.Igrimacedbutdidn’tpursuetheissue.Eventually,heretrievedatimerfromhis
bagandplaceditonthecoffeetable.

“Ready?”Jettpressedaredbutton,andthetimerstartedtocountbackward.
Twenty-threehours.Fifty-nineminutes.Fifty-nineseconds.
Thesecondsbegantotickbyasmynervesbegantofray.Iclaspedmyhandsinmylap,

unsurewhattodo.

“Backinsideyousaidyoutrustedme.”Jett’sstatementtookmebysurprise.
“Idid.Whyareyouasking?”IfrownedasIwatchedhimpulloutasheetofpaperfromhis

bagandpassitontome.

“Thosearetherules.”
Ialmostchokedonmybreath.“Seriously?Youhavesexrules?”WhywasIeven

surprised?Thiswasthesameguywhodemandedanondisclosurecontractbeforesleeping
withme.

“IdobecauseI’vewonyouforthenight,whichiswhyI’msettingtherules.Soconsider

yourselfobligatorilyatmymercy.”Hissmilewasgonenow,replacedbyadead-seriousness.I

hadneverbeenataman’smercy,andIdidn’tknowhowtofeelaboutit.

Iswallowedpastthelumpinmythroatasmyeyesbegantoscanthecomputerprintout.

RULES

Thelosingpartyagreestokeepthephoneswitchedoffatalltimes.

Thelosingpartyagreestoshoweranddressinthewinner’spreferredoutfitto

lookmostenticinginaccordancewiththewinningparty’swishes.

Thelosingpartyagreestobewillingtoexperimentwithnewthingsinaccordance

withthewinningparty’swishes.

Thelosingpartyagreestopaymaximumefforttobothreachingandcausing

physicalpleasure.

Thelosingpartyagreesnottodiscusstheeventshappeningonthisdaywithany

thirdparty.

AchangeinTermsistobesuggestedinwrittenformthrougharecognized

lawyer.Thewinningpartyreservestherighttodeclineanyandallsuggestions
madebythelosingparty.

Thewinningpartycan’tbeheldresponsibleforanystrongreactionsexperienced

asaresultofthisgameanditsrulesandimplications.

Myeyeswidenedatthewordslosing…enticing…commands…nottobediscussed…

strongreactions.

“Seriously?”Irepeatedforthesecondtime.“Youknow,thislookskindofformal,notto

mentioncreepy.”

Onthebrightsideitwasn’tanagreementtohavingsomekindofdepravedsexthat

might’vescaredthehelloutofme.Itwasshortandtothepoint—andabsolutelynon-
descriptive.IwasascluelessasIhadbeenbefore.

Ipointedtoparagraphsix.“It’simpossibleformetosuggestanythinginwrittenform

becausethere’snolawyeraroundandI’mboundtothehouse.BythetimewegetbacktoNew
York,yourtwenty-fourhoursmightbeover.”

“Exactly.”Hegrinned.“IthoughtIshouldmakeitsoundlikeyouhadanysayinthe

matter.”

Igrimacedagain.“Howkindofyoutothinkofme.Whydon’tyoualsothrowinsome

feedbackform?Youknow,thekindIcouldsubmitafteryou’redonewithme.”Myvoice
drippedwithsarcasm,andhelaughedoutloud.

AsIhandedtherulesheetbacktohim,hisfingertouchedmineandasparkignited

betweenus,travelingallthewaydownmyspineandintomyabdomen.Iflinchedandmyeyes
connectedwithhis,searchingforacluethathehadfeltitaswell.Hisexpressionremainedas
composedasalways.

“Yousureyoudon’twantmetosignovermysoul?”Iasked,joking.
“That’satemptingoffer,Brooke.Imightindeedtakeyouuponitlatertomakesure

you’llalwaysbemine.ButfornowallIwantisthechase.”

Hepointedtotheshirtnexttome,andIthrewittohim.HecaughtitinmidairandI

watchedhimpullitonagain,almostregretful.

“Gotakeashowerandgetdressed.”Jettopenedhisbagagain,andthistimeIcaughta

glimpseofawhitegiftbox,whichhehandedtome.“Iwantyoutowearthat.”

Theboxwassurprisinglylightforitssize.Curious,Iopeneditandretrievedasexyred

andblacksetoflingerie,apairofmatchinghighheels,asatinrobethat’dbarelycovermyass,
and…werethosestockings?

“Oh,God.”IheldupthenarrowstripoffabricIassumedwasathongbutIcouldn’tbe

surebecauseitwastheskimpiestIhadeverseen.Itwassexy,madeofmeshandchiffon,and
leftnothingtotheimagination.“Youexpectmetowearthis?”Somehowthethoughtmademe
excited.

Jettnoddedslowly.“AsIsaid,yes.Mygame,myrules.”Thecornersofhislipscurledinto

alazysmile.“EversinceIsetmyeyesonyouinthatbar,I’vebeenwantingtoseeyouin
somethinglikethis.Canyoublameamanforlivingouthisfantasy?”

Icouldn’t.Ijustwisheditdidn’tinvolveprancingaroundastranger’shomehalfnaked.

Chapter 5

ASPERJETT’Srequest,Ifirsttookashower.Underthehotwaterrunningdownmybody,

thetensioninmymusclesslowlysubsided,butmythoughtsofbeinganuninvitedguestin
thismansionweren’tsoeasytoswitchoff.

Thebathroomwasaslargeasabedroom,andpureluxury,withahugeJacuzzitofit

severalpeopleandaTVsetmountedonthewall.Thetinylightsintheceilingreflectedinthe
blackmarbletiles,makingthemsparklelikehugediamonds.Isteppedoutoftheshowerand
wrappedatowelaroundmynakedbody,thenwentaboutcleaningupaftermyselftorestore
thebathroom’spreviouspristinecondition.SylvieusedtocallitOCD,butwhenever
somethingbotheredme,Icleaned.Andrightnowwhatbotheredmewastheprospectof
havingsexinastranger’shouse.

BythetimeIchangedintoJett’sideaoflingerie,thethoughtofhavingsexwithhimin

thismansionbothscaredandexcitedme.EventhoughIdidn’twanttoadmitit,mybodywas
wetandreadyforhim.Itwasn’tjusttheprospectofdoingsomethingillegal.Itwastheideaof
doinganotherfirstwithhim.LettinghimbeincontrolthewayIhadneversurrenderedtohim
before.HavingtotrustJettknewwhathewasdoing,whenIhadastrongfeelingthehousehad
atleastoneortwohiddencamerasinstalled.

Islippedintothebraandbarelytherethong,rolledupthestockings,andtriedtogeta

feelforthehighheels.Therobehuggedmyfigureinalltherightplacesand,asexpected,
barelycoveredmymodesty.Theblackhighheelswithstrapsmademylegslookamilehigh.I
ranmyhandsthroughmyhairtogivemycurlssomedefinitionandappliedatinybitof
lipstick.Pleasedwiththeresult,Iregardedmyselfinthehugemirror.Ilookedsexyandfelt
justthesame.Thiswasthekindofoutfitthatwouldmakeanywomanlookhot.Whoever
advisedJettonwhattobuysureknewtheirwayaroundlingerie.Only,walkinginthoseheels
requiredsomeskill.Rightinfrontofthewindowwasanarrowstripofwhitesand—prime
privatebeach.IwonderedifJettwouldinsistontakingawalk?Ifso,IhopedIdidn’thaveto
weartheheels,becausetheyweresohighIdoubtedIcouldtakemorethanafewstridesin
them,letaloneenjoyaneveningstroll.Withalastglance,IleftthebathroomandjoinedJettin
themasterbedroom,wherehe’dsaidhe’dbewaiting.

AsIsteppedinside,partlynervous,partlyexcited,mybreathcaughtinmythroat.Hehad

spreadablacksatincoveronthesheetsandredcandleswerearrangedonthenightstand,
theirsoftglowgivingtheroomaromanticflair.Thedelicatescentofroseshungheavyinthe
air.

“Youlookstunning.”Jett’svoicewashoarse.Iturnedsharplyandfoundhimstandingto

myright,obscuredbyamassivedresser.Hishandswereburiedinhispockets,hissleeves
rolleduptorevealhisstrongforearms.Hiseyesscannedmyhighheels,mystockings,myhalf-
exposedbreasts,wanderingfartherupuntilhisgazemetmine,andasmilelituphisface.
Therewassomethinginhiseyes—aglimmerIhadseenbefore,onlyIcouldn’tremember
where.

“Thankyou,”Iwhispered,unsurewhattodowithmyself.“Youhavegoodtaste,albeita

bitkinky.”Ipointeddownmyfront.

“No.”Heshookhisheadandwalkedovertome.“You’rebeautiful,Brooke.Everything

wouldlookamazingonyou.”

Myglancesweptbackoverthecandles,totheirsoftflickeringglow,thekingsizedbed,

thenbacktoJett,allthewhileignoringtheonethingthatscaredthehelloutofme.Ihadnever
donetyingupandwebarelykneweachother.WhileItrustedhim,Ididn’tknowwhetherI
trustedhimthatmuch.Hispreviousquestioningofmyleveloftrustmadesomuchmore
sensenow.

“What?”heasked.
“Youdidn’tstrikemeasthiskindofguy.”Ishruggedandpointedaroundme,asthough

itdidn’tmatter.“Ithoughtyouwouldgoforoutdoor,daring.Idon’tknow.Ijustthoughtyou
wouldbemore—”Itrailedoff,lookingfortherightwords.Heregardedmeintently,butdidn’t
helpmeout.

Romantic?Daring?Hehadbeenallofthosethingssofar,includingtheexhibitionistic

outdoorsytype.Ijustdidn’texpect—

Bondage.
Beingtiedandatsomeoneelse’smercy.Holycow.WhenIhadmadethatjokeonthe

needofestablishinga“safeword”Icouldn’thavebeenclosertothetruth.

Jett’seyesnarrowedonme.“Nothingwrongwithvariety.AtleastI’mexperiencingit

withoneandthesamewoman.Ican’tclaimthesamethingformanymen.”Histonewashalf
accusing,halfamused.“ButIguessyou’rerighttosomeextent.”

“Howso?”
“Youdon’tknowhalfofthethingsyoushouldknowaboutme.This—”hepointedtothe

candles“—ismeanttosetthemoodandrelaxyou.Nothingmoreandnothingless.”

Whattheheckdidthatevenmean?Thatitwasn’thisstyle?Thathewouldn’thavedone

it,ifhedidn’tfeelaneedtomakemefeelcomfortable?

MystomachflutteredandmymouthwentdryasIwatchedhimwalkacrosstheroom

withslowmeasuredsteps.Hisfeetwerenaked,barelymakingasoundonthehardwoodfloor.
Hiseyesremainedfocusedonme,andfortheumpteenthtimeIfeltlikehisprey,scaredbut
hypnotized,waitingforhimcaptureorreleaseme.TonightIharborednofalsehopethatit
wouldbethelatter.

“Wecan’tstayhereforthenight.Wecouldgetinbigtrouble,”Iprotestedweakly.
Hestoppedinfrontofme,andhisarmwrappedaroundmywaist.AtfirstIthoughtit

wastocaressmyback.OnlywhenhisfingerstrailedupmyspineandgatheredinmyhairdidI
feelthegentlepull,urgingmetoraisemyheadandmeethisburninglips.

Itwasagentlekiss,hislipsbarelygrazingmine.
“Myrules.”Hespunmearoundslowly.“That’swhywe’rehere.I’mteachingyoutobreak

afewrules.”Hisgazebrushedmylipswithsuchhungeritsentatinglethroughthem.“I’lllove
youinanywayIwant.I’llloveyouinanywayyouneed.Aslongaswestayhere,baby,you’re
mine.”Hegrinnedashepulledmedownonthebed.“Youhadyourchancetowin.Notmyfault
youdidn’twantto.”

Ihadwantedto,butIhadbeentooweaktomakeithappen.Ormaybe,onan

unconsciouslevel,Ihadwantedtosurrendertohim.Eitherway,Iwasathismercy,andhe
knewit.

“Stoprubbingitin,Mayfield.”
“Whydon’tyouadmityoulikewhenI’mincharge?”
Iswallowed.
“I’mnotintoallthatsubmissioncrap,”Imuttered.Givingupcontrolwaskindofnice

everynowandthen,buthedidn’tneedtoknowthat,orI’dlivetoregretit.Jetthadthe

unnervingtendencytogetalittletoointense,likewiththisgame.Hecouldn’tjustestablish
thathewasthebetterplayerbywinningandshuttingupaboutit;hehadtotranslatehis
dominanceintoourlovemakingandriskcriminalchargesbybreakingafewlawsinthe
process.

“Ididn’texpectyou’ddoitwithoutputtingupagoodfight.”Heraisedmylegandstarted

totrailsoftkissesontheinside,themovementsendingadeliciousshiverthroughme.

Isuppressedamoanashislipskissedmyinnerthigh.Histonguestartedtodrawsmall

swirlsonmyskin,inchbyinchmovingdowntowardmyknee.

“I’llalwaysbeyourbest,Brooke,”hewhispered.
Ihadnodoubtaboutthat.
Slowly,hepeeledoffmyhighheelanddroppeditnearthebed.
“NoonewilleverloveyoumorethanIdo,”Jettcontinued.Thesecondhighheelhitthe

floorwithathud.

Intense?Yes,butIlovedit.
Myheartracedashisattentionshiftedtomyotherthighandheproceededtotorture

mybody.Histeethgratedmyskingentlyandturnedintosoftbites.

“Closeyoureyes.”
Ifollowedhiscommand,anticipatinghisnextmove.Somethingsilkytickledmyskin.I

openedmyeyesandlookeddownatthetiesinJett’shandandthenaughtyglintinhiseyes.

“Arethoseyoursfromtheapartment?”Iasked,sittingup.Hepressedmebackdown.
“Yeah.They’rejustrightforthisparticularpurpose.”Hestretchedthematerial,

conjuringimagesofpunishment,whipping,andbondageinsidemyhead.

“I’mnot—”
Hishotmouthstifledmyprotestandhishandspulledmyarmsovermyhead.Icould

feelthesilkyfabricfirstonmyleftwrist,thenaroundtheright.Ipulledgently,andthenwitha
littlemorefervorasIrealizedIwasbeingboundtothebedpost.

“Relax,”Jettwhispered.“I’dneverhurtyou.”
Inodded,eventhoughmyheartwasbeatingamillionmilesanhour,andnotfromthe

sexualtensionintheair.Thesmoothmaterialfeltcoolagainstmyskin.Sexy.Erotic.
Menacing.

“Thiswasactuallymyidea.Yourealizethat,right?”Ilaughednervously.“Itoldyouwhat

I’ddotoyouifIwon,andnowyou’reclaimingitasyourown.”

Hisbrowsshotupinmockoffence.“AreyouimplyingI’mstealingyourideas,Miss

Stewart?”Heshiftedhisweightoffofmeandmovedtomyankles.Mybreathcaughtinmy
throatasIrealizedwhathewasabouttodo.

“MaybeI’mimplyingIhavenofreehandtohelpyou.”Ihopedhegotthehintanduntied

me.

“I’mdoingjustfinebutthanksforoffering.”
Hegrinnedwiththekindofglintinhiseyesthatsaidheharborednointentionstofollow

myunspokenrequest.Infact,hewasgoingtoteasemeandteasemehard.Iwonderedwhere
hewasheading.Thetiebrushedmyskin,thecoldsatinagainstmyanklessendingshiversof
delightupmybody.

“Areyougoingtokeepontalking?”heasked.“BecauserightnowI’mthinkingofshutting

yoursexylittlemouthsoIcanfollowthroughwithmyplans.”

“Whatplans?”Athisdispleasedexpression,Ihaltedthehundredsofquestionsinsidemy

head.Ihadbeentalkingagain.IalwayswaswhenIwasnervous.“Sorry,”Imuttered.

Heshiftedbackontopofmeandproppeduponhiselbows,hismouthsoclosetomineI

wantedtoreachupandsuckhislowerlipbetweenmyteeth.

“Dirtyplans.I’mgoingtoravishyouuntilyoucan’tgetmeoutofyoursystem.Thereare

amillionwaystomakeyoucomeandI’mplanningontestingeachandeveryoneofthem.But
firstyou’llneedtobe—”Heliftedthelasttietoshowme.

“Ofcourse,”Imuttered.
Iliftedmyheadsohecouldblindfoldme.
Thesuddendarkness,hishotbreathonmyneck,andtheweightofhisbodyonmemade

myheartpoundharder.ItwassodarkIcouldn’tseeadamnthingandtheideabothscared
andarousedme.Mylegswerespreadwideopen,invitinghimtodowhateverhewantedto
me.Whatwashedoing?Whydidn’themove?Ibitmyliphardtostoptheneedtoask.

Icouldfeelhisgazeonme,caressingmybody,makingmyskintingleallover.Icould

sensethesmileonhislipsbutcouldn’treadhisintentions.

“Iwanttofuckyou,”Jettwhispered.“Slowly.Recklessly.Teasingly.HoweverIfeellike

doingit.Inallpossibleways.Screamasloudasyouwantbecausenoonewillhearyou.AndI
wantyoutoscream,baby.”

Hisfingersbegantotrailmyabdomen,gatheringbetweenmylegs.Ifelthimprodding

me,spreadingmygatheringjuices.Tiedandinastranger’shouse,Iwasopenforhim.My
sensesheightened,myprimalinstinctsaskingtobefilled.Hisfingerslippedinsidemeslowly.
Imoanedandliftedmyhips,welcomingthesensation,drawinghimdeeper.

“Notyet,”hewhispered.Hisfingerpulledoutofme,leavingmeemptyandfrustrated.I

frownedasIlistenedtohisfootstepswalkingacrosstheroom,Jettpickingsomethingup,then
layingbackdownonthebed.

Somethingrustled.
“Openyourmouth.”Hissharptoneleftnoroomfordiscussion.Myheartpounded

franticallyagainstmyribcage.Iswallowedhardbutdidn’tfollowhiscommand.

“Doit,Brooke.”Hisdeepvoicedrippedwithimpatience.
Thiswashischancetoprovehelovedmeandwouldneverhurtme—hischancetoearn

mytrust.Ihadtotaketheplungetoseeitformyself.SoIopenedmymouthandinthatinstant
IknewIdidfarmorethantrusthim.Mypassionforhimwasbig,butmyloveforhimwas
bigger.IwantedtopleasehimbecausewhenIlostmyhearttohim,Ialsogaveawaymy
vulnerability.Isurrenderedtohimandheconqueredme—bodyandsoul.Trustwastheonly
thinglefttogivefreely.Theonlythingwecouldearn,theonlythingwearestilllearning.

Somethingstickyhitmytongue.Sweet,softandcreamylikechocolate.
“Bite,”Jettinstructed.
Ibitandsucked,thenswallowedandopenedmymouthagain,realizingitwaschocolate

transitioningfromarichcocoaflavortoanintense,sweethazelnutcream.Hismouth
descendeduponmineagain,thechocolatemeltingbetweenourtongues.

Imoanedbecauseitwasdelicious.
Hiskisswasheavenlychocolatemeltingdelicious.
Heatgatheredbetweenmylegsandmyclitbegantopulsegently,silentlydemanding

attention.Asthoughreadingmythoughts,Jett’smouthleftmeandbegantomovedownmy
chestandabdomenassomethingcoldandstickypouredbetweenmylegs,tricklingdownmy
entry.

“Whatisthat?”Iaskedbreathlessly.
“Chocolate.”IcouldhearhisamusementanditdrovemenutsthatIcouldn’tseehis

expression.Hishotbreathtraveleddownmyabdomen,andthenhistonguetouchedtheright
spot,thesensationoflickingandsuckingsendingmypulseintoafrenzy.Mynipplespeaked
forhim,urginghimtotouchthem,buthisattentionwasfocusedelsewhere.

Morechocolatedrippeddownmyskin—somuchIwassurehewasusingthewhole

tube,smearingitalloverthebed,whenIrememberedthespread.Hehadthoughtof
everything.Imadeamentalnotetogivehimcreditforthat,butthethoughtwasshort-lived
becausehistonguebegantoswirlinacircularmotion,andhisfingerfoundmyentry,filling
andstretching.

Oh,God.
Iwasdying.
Scratchthat.
Iwasdyingandgoingstraighttoheaven.
OrmaybehewasmydownfallandIwasgoingtohell.
Imoanedandswitchedoffmybrainasheatbegantopoolintomyabdomen.Hisfinger

thrustinsideme,twistingandcirclingashislipssuckedmyclitsohardmywholebody
reacted.Moisturegatheredbetweenmylegs,spreadbyhisfingersthrustingrhythmically
untilIreachedthebrinkoflust.Fromthereitwasamerestepintototalsurrender.

“You’resogood,”Imoaned.“Iwantmore.”
“Ilovewhenyoudemand,”hewhispered.“Chocolateandyourjuices.It’smyfavorite

combination.”

Mycheekscaughtfire,butIhadnotimetofeelmortifiedbecausehisteethbeganto

grazemyclit,suckinggently.

Andthenhismouthwasbackonmylips.Onehandsqueezedbeneaththenapeofmy

neck,theotherliftedmyleg.Inoneswiftmovementheslammedinsideme,histhickerection
burningitswaydeepintomycore.Thebedshook,ormaybeitwasmybodyashebeganto
crashintome.Ididn’tcarethatwewerespreadingchocolatealloverthesheets.Iwantedhim.
Iwantedeverybitofwhathehadtooffer.Imovedmyhipstomeethisthrusts,listenedtothe
sexynoisescomingoutofhishotmouthashisthrustsbecamedeeperandfaster.Hotwaves
ofheatrockedmyabdomen,promisingtoeruptinaragingfire.

Iliftedmyhipstogivehimdeeperaccess,andmorehetook.Feelingeveryhardinch

impalingmyflesh,Ilostreason,consumedbyhispassionforme.Thehotflamesofanearing
orgasmbegantobuildinsidemywomb,andmybodyrockedwiththefirsttremors.

“You’resodamnaddicting.Likeanarcotic.”Hishipspushedhiserectiondeepintomein

fastshortthrusts.Hewasclose.Icouldfeelhisshudders,andmyclitachedinresponse,
desperateforrelief.

Indarkness,Imoanedandliftedoffthebedasfarasmyrestraintswouldallow,my

mouthsearchinghis.Ourtonguesconnectedinafasteroticdancemirroringthemovementof
hiships,sendingelectricalshardsofpleasurethroughmyheartandsoul.Jett’sfingerspressed
againstmyclithard,thesuddensensationunbearable.Igaspedagainsthismouth.Mysoft
fleshtightenedaroundhishardshaft,andIcameundonearoundhim,faintlyawareofJett’s
groanoffulfillmenttearingfromhischest.

Myskinsizzledwithelectricityasourbodiesmergedintoone,overandoveragain,until

therewasnothingmoretogive.Exhausted,Islumpedagainstthesheetsandclosedmyeyes.

Fingersremovedmyrestraintsandblindfold.Jettpulledmeagainsthishotbodyandwrapped
hisarmsaroundme.Theintoxicatingscentofchocolateandourlovemakingwasmylast
consciousthought.

Chapter 6

ANHOURLATER,myfingerstracedthecontoursofhistribaltattoo.Itwasagangthing,

heonceexplained,andpartofhisformerlife.Hehaddonesomanythings,seentheworld
fromdifferentperspectives,andinsomewaytouchingitwasmychancetoconnectwithsome
aspectofit.

Iwatchedthelightofthecandlesreflectedonhisbronzeskinandwonderedforthe

umpteenthtimewhetherImighteverknowhim—therealhim,thepartshesocarefullykept
hidden.

“What’swrong,sleepingbeauty?”Jettasked,sensingmyemotionalundercurrents.
Ishookmyheadandtookadeepbreathtoclearmythoughts.“Nothing.”Iknewhe

wouldn’tdropit,soIsaidthefirstthingthatcametomymind.“IjustrealizedIneverhadsex
inapuddleofchocolatebefore.It’skindofstrangetowakeupsurroundedbythescentof
chocolate.”

“Ifeelthesameway,andI’mgladyouweretheonetoexperienceitwith.”Hekissedthe

topofmyhead.

“HopeI’llgettoreturnthefavoroneday.That’sifIeverwinoneofyourgames.”
“We’llseeaboutthat.”
Ihatedtobeawayfromhim,butsomeneedscouldn’tbeignored.“Ineedtovisita

certainroom,”Isaidwithanapologeticsmile.

“Ah.”Hemovedaside,buthisgripdidn’tletgoofmeimmediately.“Bebacksoon.”
“Iwill,”Iwhispered,andleftforthebathroom.Afteraquickshower,Iwrappedmyselfin

anoversizedtowelanddecidedtoborrowKim’shairdryer.Itusuallytookmeawhiletoget
myhairdry,courtesyofmyunrulycurls,soIleftithalfdampbeforeJettgotboredandkicked
inthedoor.Notthathehadeverdonethat,buthewasonaschedule,soIfiguredhemight
haveafewmoreplanslinedupbeforehistwenty-fourhourswereup.

Ishruggedintotherobeagain,ignoringjusthowshortitwasinthebathroomlight.

KnowingJett’sappetite,Ireckonedweprobablywouldn’tventurefarfromthebedroom,sono
onebesideJettwouldeverseemyass.Withalastglanceinthemirror,Isteppedoutofthe
bathroomandstoppeddead.

ThefirstthingInoticedwasthelightstreaminginthroughthewindows.Jettmusthave

pulledbackthecurtains,bathingtheroominglaringbrightness.ThenextthingInoticedwas
that,inmyabsence,hehadremovedthecandles,andthesheetcoveringthebedwasgone,
togetherwithhisbag.

“Jett?”Callinghisname,Iwalkeddownstairsandstopped.Hisvoicecarriedoverfrom

thelivingroom.Istrainedtolistenbutcouldn’tmakeoutanywords,soIinchedcloserasa
senseofdéjàvugrippedme.OnthelastdayinItaly,Jetthadalmostshottwointruderswho
gotawaywithallevidencewehadgatheredontheLucazzoneestate.Thefearofhaving
someonewatchingus,waitingtostrikewhenweleastexpectedit,hadcausedmeafew
nightmaresandneverquiteleftme.Andnowitwascomingbackfullforce.

Ignoringthefranticdrummingofmyheart,Isuckedinairafewtimes,forcingoxygen

intomylungs.UnlikebackinItaly,nooneknewwewerehere,somysuddenpangoffearwas
unreasonable.Still,Icouldn’tstopthebeadsofsweatgatheringatthenapeofmyneck.Itook
anotherlungfulofairandsteppedintothelivingroom.Jettwasstandingnearthewindows
overlookingthebackyard;hisbackwasturnedtome,andhisphonewasgluedtohisear.

“Youdothat.”Hisvoicesoundedstrangelyanxiousandstrained,whichmanagedto

worrymeevenmore.

Iknockedsoftlyonthedoorframetogethisattention,andheturnedtosignalhehad

acknowledgedmypresencebeforeturningawayagain.

“I’llbefine,”hesaid.“Don’tworry.I’lltakecareofthings...Okay.”Hehungup,hishand

clutchingathisphone,hisgazefixedonapointoutsidethewindow.

Hesitating,Iinchedcloserandstoppednexttohim.Hiseyesweredistant,andhisface

wasamaskoffury.Fromthewayhewasstanding,motionless,withhisshouldersslouched,I
couldn’tshakeoffthefeelingthatsomethingbadhadhappened.Somethingfelthorribly
wrong.Myfingersitchedtotouchhim,butIdidn’tdare.Notbeforehetoldmewhathad
happened.

“Jett?”Iprobedsoftly.
Hedidn’tstir,didn’tlookatme.
“Jett?What’swrong?”
Afewsecondspassedinsilence.Histroubledgazebrushedourfeet,asifrecallingwhere

hewas,ormaybehejustfoughtforstrength.

“Myfatherdied,”hesaidatlast.Hisvoicewassolow,strainedandchoked,Iwasn’tsure

Iheardright.

“What?”Iwhispered.Ishookmyhead,unabletocomprehendthemeaningofhiswords.

Itcouldn’tbe.Iclaspedmyhandovermymouthinshock.“Oh,myGod.”

Jettturnedtome,hiseyesmeetingmine.Theywerefilledwithpain.
“Mybrotherwascalledtothemorguethismorning.Hephonedtosaymyfatherhad

beenonhisboatwhenitblewupyesterday.”Iwatchedhimwalkovertothecouchandslump
down.“Hedidn’tsurviveit.”

Isatdownnexttohim.
“I’msosorry,Jett.”Isqueezedhishandinthehopethegesturewouldconveymore

meaningthantheprobablymostoverusedphraseintheworld.Eventhoughtheyhadnot
beencloseandRobertMayfieldusedtobelongtoAlessandro’ssecretclub,hewasstillJett’s
father.IwatchedthewayJettsat,defeatedwithhisheadburiedinhishands,andcouldn’tstop
mytearsfromfalling.Wenevergotthechancetotellhisfatherwewereexpecting.Ihadnever
evenmethim.

“It’sallmyfault.”Jettlookedup,hiseyesmeetingmine,searchingfortheconfirmationI

wouldn’tgivehim.Iinhaledasharpbreathandletitoutslowly.Itkilledmetoseehim
sufferinglikethat.

“No,Jett.Youcan’tblameyourself.”
“Butitis,andwebothknowit.”Hepulledhishandoutofmygripandgotup,hisface

turningintoamaskofanger.HepunchedthewallandIjerkedbackinshock.“Hecalledtwo
weeksago,rightafterwereturnedfromItaly.Ididn’twanttotalkwithhimbecauseIwas
angry.IfonlyI’dmetwithhim,maybethiswouldn’thavehappened.”

“Whatareyousaying?”Iasked,shocked.“Youthinkitwasn’tanaccident?”
“No,Brooke,itwasn’t.”HeglancedbacktomewithsomuchangerIflinched.“Aboat

doesn’tblowup.Hewould’venoticedafireandcalledforhelp.Maybewhoeverdidthisshot
himfirstbeforesettingfiretogetridofanyevidence.Itwasarson,I’msureofthat.”

Ididn’tknowwhatwasmorefrightening:thatIhadneverseenhimsoupset,orthefact

therewasn’tasinglethingIcoulddotohelphim.IregardedJett’sangryface,afraidofhisnext

move.Afraidofwhatthiscouldmeanforus.

Secondspassed,whichturnedintominutes,andJettdidn’tbudgefromthespot.
“Fuck!”Jettmumbled.
“IwishtherewassomethingIcoulddo,”Iwhispered.
“Thereisn’t.”Histonesoftened,andforamomenttheangerinhisvoicedisappeared,

onlytocomebackdirectedathimself.“Ishouldhaveknown.”

Ishookmyheadinconfusion,unabletofollowhischangesinmood.“Knownwhat?”
Hiseyesglazedover,lostinthoughts.Hewalkedbacktothecouchandsatdown.

Anotherminutepassed,andnoreplycame.

“Whatmakesyouthinkhewaskilled,Jett?”Iaskedcautiously.“Yourbrotherwouldhave

saidsomething.Thepolicewouldbealloverit.”

“Doyourememberthefivepeopleonthelist?”heasked.
Inodded,thinkingbacktothelittleblackbookwehadfoundinAlessandro’sbasement.

Jetthadmentionedfivenames,andoneofthemwasRobertMayfield.

“Ithinkthatwasahitlist,”Jettcontinuedinatonethatmadeshiver.
Isatdownnexttohimonthecouch,watchinghiminsilence,ashiswordsslowlysankin.
“There’snowaythefivenamesweretheonlyclubmembers.It’simpossible.Myfather

said—”Jett’svoicefalteredwithemotion“—hesaidtherewereseventy-eightmembers
beforeheleft.Maybetheotherfourdecidedtooptoutaswell.”

“Youthinkhewaskilledbecausehewantedout?”Iaskedneedlessly.Ihadn’tseenthis

perspectivebeforeanditcertainlydidn’tmakeahellofalotofsensetome,butIcouldn’trule
itout.Aclublikethatprobablythrivedonwealthymembersandtheirdedicationforlife.
Maybesomeonehadtakenthe“silencetothegrave”oathalittletooliterally.Possible.I
thoughtbacktoJett’swords.

Idon’tthinkyourwayisthewaythey’reworking.They’renotaspeaceful.

EvenIhadknownatthatpointthatnoonewasletineasily,anddefinitelynotoutwitha

merehandshake.

“Myfathersaiditwasamistaketojointheclub,”Jettsaid.“Theyprobablywantedtoget

ridofhim.IfIhadmentionedthebookandthelist,Icouldhavepreventedhisdeath.Iknowhe
wouldhavelistenedtome.”Hisvoicesoundedchoked.“Iwouldhavebeenabletosavehis
life.”

“No,Jett.”Ishookmyhead,myhearthurtingbecauseJettblamedhimself.
“Don’tthinklikethat,”Iwhisperedandshookmyheadagain,myhandclutchingathis

armtoforcehimtolistentome.Hiseyesboredintomeandforthefirsttimehisangerwasn’t
directedathimself,butatme.

“Butit’sthetruth.Thefuckingtruth,Brooke.Whywon’tyouacceptthatImadea

mistake?”

Chapter 7

LIFEHASAwayofthrowingeverythingaround.SometimesIcouldn’tstopthefeeling

thatwewerealltrappedinsideacupcalledlife,andlikediceshakenaroundandthrownout.
Readytobetestedandplayed.Readytoriskandfacetheunthinkable.Readytoloseandget
hurt.Anditdidn’tmatterhowhighthesocialstatuswasorhowmuchmoneyapersonhad,it
couldaffecteveryone,anytimeandanywhere.Wewereallatthemercyoftheshakingcup
calledlife.

WatchingthevariousemotionscrossingJett’sfeatures,IrealizedhowmuchIlovedhim

andthatI’ddoanythingforhim.However,whateverIdidorsaid,therewasnorecipefor
takingawaythepain.Nothingtoeasehismindorguilt.Nothingtoridhisconscienceofthe
demonshauntinghim.AsmuchasIlovedhim,lovewasnotenoughtoreleasehimfromthe
guilthe’dprobablycarrywithhimfortherestofhislife.Itwasasifguilthadbecomehis
companionandIhadbecomehisshadow—onetryingtohealhimandtheothercausingas
muchhavocaspossible.AndIknewallaboutguiltandthedirtytricksitplayedsoitcould
hauntyouforever.

ThemomentJettfoundoutabouthisfather’sdeath,Ifelthimdistancinghimselffrom

me.Wepackedupquicklyanddrovebacktohisapartmentinfreezingsilence.Themomenthe
unlockedthedoor,Ifeltlikeanintruderinhisworld.

“Gottagotowork,”Jettmumbled,anddisappearedagain,leavingmealoneinthe

perfectionofhisplace.

“Okay,”Isaidweakly,buthewasgonealready.
Workhadtobeanexcusetoburyhimselfinhisgrief—orwhyelsewouldheleave

withoutgivingmeakissgoodbye?Thatnighthedidn’tcomehome.Andthefollowingnight,
hewastherewithmeandyetnotthere.Listenedtome,andyetnoneofmywordsreached
himthroughtheshieldhehadbuiltaroundhimself.Iknewthiswouldhappen.Ialmost
expectedit.WhatIdidn’texpectwasforhimtoshutmeoutofhisworld.Tonotletmeget
close,refusingtotalk,refusingtolisten.Hehadbecomeemotionallydistantandattimes
unavailable,buttheworstwasthatIcouldfeelhimchanging.

Itwasasifguilthadcreatedaninvisiblebarrierthatbegantoseparateus,harmingour

relationship,hisplayfulnaturereplacedbysomethingthatscaredthehelloutofme.Like
sickness,leavingabitteraftertasteinitswake.

Witheachday,thewallsgrewhigher,distancinghimfromme.AndnomatterhowhardI

poundedandshookatthegates,theyseemedtobestrongerthanI,myloveforhim,or
anythingthatusedtomattertohim.

MaybeIhadn’tknownhimaswellasIthoughtIdid.Thesilenceanddetermined

continuationofhisritualsconsistingofnothingbutworkandsleepingwashiswayofcoping.
However,thewayhewasshuttingmeout—physicallyandemotionally—mademefeelas
thoughhewasshuttingmeoutinhisheart,too.

Ipreferredtears.Theyweregood.Theywouldpurify,cleanse,andhelphimheal.I

preferredangerbecauseitwoulddrawoutthepoisonofguilt.Buttheynevercame.Iwanted
anoutburst;Iwantedsomethingtoshowmethathewasn’ttoobrokentoheal,thewaymy
motherhadbeenaftermyfather’sdeath:motionless,herbodylivingandbreathing,buther
souldeadwithinthephysicalcarcassofherself.ThatwasalotworsethantheangerIwanted
Jetttoletloosesohecouldeventuallymoveon.

WithRobertMayfielddead,mythoughtskeptcirclingbacktothebreak-in,theblack

book,andAlessandroLucazzone.Icouldfeeltheconnection,anditscaredme.Maybe
someonehadpanicked,andourdiscoverieswerethereasonwhyJett’sfatherwasmurdered
inthefirstplace.Icouldn’tshakeoffthefeelingthatifJettandIhadneverbeguntodate,we
wouldneverhavebrokenthroughthewallandfoundtheblackbookthatwassoimportant
peoplewerereadytokillforit.

“That’swhysecretsshouldstayburiedforever,”ImutteredtomyselfasIslippedintoa

demureblackdressforRobertMayfield’sfuneral.

IfJettheardme,hedidn’treply.
Idrewinashakybreathandclosedmyeyestogetridofthestingingsensationasanew

thoughtenteredmymind.

HowterriblewoulditbeifnotJettbutIweretoblameforhisfather’sdeath?

Chapter 8

THESKYRESEMBLEDaloomingdarkpitcarryingtheheavypromiseofrain.Astrong

gustofwindtuggedatmyblackdress,itscoldcaresskeepingmestrangelygroundedand
remindingmethatamidstallthegraveswewerealive,continuingtoswimintherivercalled
lifewhiletherestwouldbesoonforgotten,whetherwewanteditornot.

IglancedatJettwhowasstandinginfrontofRobertMayfield’sgrave,hiseyesfocused

onaspotonthehorizononlyhecouldsee.Thepeoplearounduslistenedtothereverend’s
emptywordsinsilence.Afewwerecrying,theirsoulstormentedbythelossofsomeonethey
believedtohaveknown.Mostofthembarelyblinked,lockedinastateofmemoriesandself-
reflection,theirmindsfullofpromisestore-evaluatetheirownlifeandmakeitbetter.Iknew
becauseIhadbeenoneofthemaftermysisterandfatherdied.Icouldseeitinthemourners’
guiltyexpressionsandthedeterminationintheireyes.Ialsoknewfromexperiencethat
whateverpromisestheymadetothemselveswouldrarelylast.Intheend,thestupidthings
wediddidn’tmatteranyway;whatmatteredwasappreciatingthepeopleinourlife,spending
enoughtimewiththem.

Materialbelongingsalwayswasteaway,whilememoriesneverfade.
Iblinkedawaythetearsgatheringatthecornerofmyeyesandpeeredaroundme.I’d

neverseensomanypeopleatonefuneral.Thenagain,Ihadneverbeenrichorfamous,while
Jett’sfatherhadbeenboth.

Thedrivetothefuneralservicewasshortandsilent.Bythetimewereachedthe

penthouseJett’sfatherhadinhabitedduringhisstaysinNewYork,hundredsofpeoplehad
alreadygatheredandmorewerefloodinginbytheminute,allhurryingtoofferJetttheir
condolences.

Ilistenedtocountlessspeeches,allpraisingRobertMayfieldasagoodmanwhohad

broughtmanygreatchangestothosewhohadenteredhislife.Ilistenedtorecalledfond
memorieswhilemygazebrushedthepicturesonthewallsandmantelpiece.Mostwere
hiddenbehindcountlessflowerbouquetsandgoodbyeletters,butafewstoodout—mostlyof
RobertMayfieldandwomen.OneortwoshowedhimwithtwoyoungboysIassumedwere
JettandJonathan,anditmademewonderhowmanyofthefuneralvisitorsactuallyknewthe
kindofmanRobertMayfieldhadbeenhidingbehindthefaçadeofnormalityandperfection.

Bitingmyliphard,IpeeredatJett’sstonyexpressionandthehardnessinhiseyes,andI

recalledthewayhehadknownhisfather.Asahardman.Asaterriblerolemodelwhoneither
acknowledgedhismistakesnorapologized.Butnooneseemedtowanttomentionanyof
that.

“Willyoustayhere?Ihavetoseesomepeople,”Jettsaid,jerkingmeoutofmythoughts.
“Sure.I’llgocheckoutthebuffet.”Ipointedinthedirectionoftheopen-plankitchen

area,whichIhadspieduponentering.Thelargeassortmentoffingerfoodwouldhavedonea
weddingreceptionjustice.“Wantanything?”

Jettshookhishead.“I’mokay.”Heshotmeatendersmile,andthenhewasgone.
Iwalkedovertothebuffetandgrabbedaplate,thengotinline,unabletodecidewhether

togettheoystersorthesalmonrolls.Everythinglookeddelicious,andthebabyinsideme
knewit.

“You’reBrooke,right?”Avoicebehindmestartledme.Iturnedsharplytoregardatall

guywithdarkhairandblueeyes.ThefirstthingInoticedabouthimwasthetailoredblack

designersuit;thesecondwastheconfidenceinhiseyes.Hislipswerecurvedintojustahint
ofafriendlysmile—nottoomuchandnottoolittle,giventhecircumstances.

“Yes.”Inodded.“Andyouare?”
“I’mJonathan,Jett’sbrother.CallmeNate.Everyonedoes.”Heshookmyhand.“Jett’s

toldmeeverythingaboutyou.”

“I’msorryforyourloss,”Isaid.
“Iappreciateit.”Nate’ssmiledidn’tshift,butIcaughtthesuddenglanceatthefloor.I

rememberedatimewhenIhadtosmileandpretendtheworldwasallrightwhenallIwanted
wastocrawlintoacornerandbawlmyeyesout.Maybefindingcommongroundwaswhat
mademelikeNateinstantly.

“Itwasaterribleaccident,”NatemurmuredandforthefirsttimeInoticedthedark

circlesframinghiseyes.Iswalloweddownthelumpinmythroatandnodded.

“Terribleandsad.”Unawareofmygesture,Ibrushedahandovermyflatabdomen.A

briefmomentofawkwardsilenceensuedbetweenus,duringwhichawaitercarryingglasses
ofchampagnewalkedpast.Natepickeduptwo,handingmeoneglass,thenpointedtoacouch
inthecornerofthehugelivingroom.Inoddedandfollowedhim,myhandsclutchingtheglass
ofalcohol.Hesatdownandinvitedmetodothesame.

“How’sJettholdingup?”heasked.Hisvoicewasstrained.Ashudderrandownmyspine

atthethoughtthathewastheonewho’dbeencalledtothemorgueinordertoidentifyhis
father’sbody,scorchedbeyondrecognition.Icouldn’timaginehowdifficultitmusthavebeen
forhim.Iwasgladitwasn’tJett.

“Asokayasthecircumstancesallow.”
“Mybrother’satoughguy.Ifsomething’stroublinghim,heworkshardtogetridofit.”

Hetookasipfromhisglassandwatchedmeforamomentbeforecontinuing.“Afterour
motherleft,hetookcharge.It’sthewaymylittlebrothercopes.”

Ileanedback,hidingmysurprise.OfcourseNateknewhisbrotherwell.Theyhadgrown

uptogether.Buttalkingabouthimsointimatelyjarredme.Asthoughsensingmythoughts,
Natesmiledandtookanothersipofhisdrink.“Justbethereforhim,andhe’llbefine.”

“Youtwousedtobeveryclose,”Isaidmatter-of-factly,rememberingthefewstoriesJett

hadtoldmebackinItaly.TwoboyswatchingtheLucazzoneestateinsecret,theirimagination
thrivingwiththeoriesofmysteryandconspiracy.Backthentheydidn’tknowjusthowspot-
ontheywere.

“Correction.Westillare.”Nate’seyesboredintome.“We’refriends.We’vealwaysbeen.

Toobadwe’relivingindifferentstates.”

“JettsaidyouworkinAustin?”Iasked.
Hiseyesmovedtomyglass.Ifoughttheurgetotakeanobligatorysip.
“Yeah.I’mmanagingthesoutherndivisionofMayfieldRealties.NotmissingNewYorka

bit.”

“Why?”Iasked,alittlestunned.Itwasoneofthebestcitiesintheworld.Somanypeople

movedtoNewYorktofollowtheirdreams,Ialmostexpectedeveryonetolovethecity,the
magicoftheholidays,thebestshoppingstrips,andthespiritingeneral.Hepointedatthe
grayskyoutsidethewall-to-ceilingwindow.Inspiteoftherainyweatherandthecrowded
skyline,itwasstillastunningview.

“I’masouthernguy,andtomeNewYorkistouristy.I’mnotsayingTexasisbetter—I

justpreferitduetoitsweather,goodschools,thebeststeaksintheworld,lowcrime,thehigh

employmentrate,tonamejustafewthing.”Helaughed,andIfoundmyselflaughingwithhim.
“I’mnottryingtosellanythingtoyou,butyoushouldcomevisit.Youmightendupwantingto
persuadeJetttomovedownthere.”

“Imight,”Isaid.
“InwhichcaseI’llhavetoinsistyoudoitsoonerratherthanlater.Wecoulduse

someonelikeJett.NotleastbecauseIwanttogoonavacationeverynowandthen.Wesure
misshim.”

Ileanedforward,listeningintentlyasIsensedmyopportunitytofindoutmoreabout

myboyfriend’spast.“JettusedtoliveinTexas?”

“WewereraisedinSmithvilleonahugeranch.Whenourmothergotsick—”hepaused,

andIknewhemeantheraddictiontovarioussubstances“—ourfatherdecidedthattheSouth
wasn’tgoodforus,sowemovedtoNewYork.IwassixteenandJettwasjusttenwhenwe
movedfromcountlesshorsesandlazyafternoonstosmogandconcretebuildings.Itwasn’t
easy.WhenIsawmychancetogobacktoattendcollege,Itookit,butJettstayedbehindwith
Dad.”

Natepausedlongenoughtohelphimselftoanotherglassofchampagnebefore

resuminghissmalltalk.

“So,Brooke,thisisprobablyoneofthoseclichéquestions,buthowdidyoutwomeet?

Wereyoudoingyourcatwalkandhehappenedtositinthefrontrow?”

“No.”Ilaughed.“It’salongstory,actually.Itwasinabar,andweweresupposedtohave

abusinessmeeting,whichnevertookplace.”

“Supposed?”Hisbluegazeboredintomeagainwithastrangeinterest.
“Supposed,yes,becauseIdidn’tknowwhoJettwas,andhisstyledidn’texactlyscream

businessmeeting,soIbrushedhimoff.”Ismileduncomfortablyatthememoriesinmyhead.I
hadn’tjustbrushedJettoff;Ihadbeendownrightrude,whichwasjustified,givenJett’s
intentionsatthattime.IwonderedwhetherNateknewofthose.“Didn’tyousayJetttoldyou
everything?”Iasked,eagertochangethesubject.

“Ah,youcaughtme.Iknowthestory,actually.Ijustwantedtohearyourversion.”He

helduphishandsinmockresignation.“Unfortunately,Jettforgottomentionyouwerethis—”
hegesturedwithhishandandlaughed“—beautiful.”

Hemovedclosertome,invadingmypersonalspace,ashewhisperedinmyear,“I’mnot

surprisedmylittlebrotherfellforyou.We’vealwayssharedthesametaste.IfIhadbeenthe
onetomeetyou,Brooke,Iwouldhaveaskedyouout,too.”Heleanedbackagain,watchingmy
reactionwiththekindofself-assuredexpressionIknewwellfromhisbrother.Itseemed
beingcockyandfullofoneselfraninthefamily.

“Thanks,Iguess.”
“I’mhappymybrothermetyou,”Natesaid.“Itwasabouttime.”
Ihesitated,unsurehowtoreacttohisstatement.
“Ishouldgetgoing,”Isaid,standing.“Jettmightbelookingformeand—”
“Sure.”Natereachedintohisblazerandhandedmeabusinesscard.“Here’smynumber.

Callmeifmybrotherneedsanythingor,youknow,ifyouneedsomeonetotalkto.You’repart
ofthefamilynow.I’msuremyfatherwouldhavelovedtomeetyou.”Hisexpressionseemed
painedbutdisappearedquickly.“MaybeyoucouldconvinceJetttovisitusforaweekend.It’d
begreattohaveyouguysaround.Bringbacksomenormality.”

“Sure.”

Ifiddledwithmyglass.Nate’sbrowsshotup.Ifrownedandfollowedhislineofvisionto

thehotdark-hairedguywhoseemedtobeaheadtallerthaneveryoneelsemakingabeeline
forus,andmyheartjumpedinmythroat.IhadyettogetusedtotheideathatIwasactually
datinghim.

“Iseeyou’vemetmygirlfriend,”JettsaidtoNate,agrinlightinguphisface—thefirstI

hadseensincehisfather’sdeath.Hisarmlockedaroundmywaist,andhepulledmejusta
littlebitcloser,asthoughtoestablishhisterritory,whichmademesmile.

“Lookatyou.You’reachangedman.Howhaveyoubeendoing,littlebrother?”Nate

pattedJett’sshoulderalittleharderthanIwould’veexpected.Iregardedthemastheybriefly
huggedeachother,theireyeslockedinsomethingIcouldn’tquitepinpoint—untilI
rememberedsomethingJettoncetoldme.

Competition.
Hischildhoodandteenageyearshadbeenfullofbattlestobethebetter,thestronger,

themoredaringoutofthetwoofthem.

“How’sthelovelyNatalia?”Jettasked.
“Good.She’sbeenbuggingmetomakeyoucomevisit.”
“I’mplanningto.Inafewweeks,maybe,wheneverything’ssettled.”
“Hopefullystillthisyear.”Natechuckledandshotmeameaningfullook,whichItookfor

aninvitationtopersuadeJetttochangehisplans.

“I’vebroughtthecompanyrecordsyouwantedtosee,”Natesaid.“Doyouwanttogo

overthemnoworlater?”

“GivemetwominuteswithBrooke,andthenwecantalk.”Jettglancedoveratme.Isaid

ahurriedgoodbyetohisbrother,andthenNatewasgone.

“Hashealwaysbeenthis—?”Ibegan.
“Confident,yetcomplex?”Jettcutmeoff.“Yeah.He’slikethecenterofahurricane.You’ll

neverknowwhatyougetbeforeithitsyou.”Hiseyesmetmine,andforamomentIwantedto
wrapmyarmsaroundhimandkisshimliketherewasnotomorrow.ImissedtheoldJett,
whenhewasn’tangryattheworldandplaguedbyguilt.“Youcanalsoeasilypushhisbuttons.
Youdon’twanttoseehimexplodewhenhe’sdrunk.Nataliahasseenherfairshareofhimin
thatstate,whichiswhyI’msurprisedshe’sstillwithhim.”

“Who’sNatalia?”Iasked.
“Hisfiancée.”
Natewasengaged.Ididn’texpectthat,justasmuchasIdidn’texpecthimtohavea

possibledrinkingproblem.

Jett’seyesfellonmyfullglassandhetookitfrommyhand.“You’renotsupposedto

drinkthat.”

“Ididn’tintendto,”Isaiddryly.
IwantedtoknowmoreaboutNateandhislifebutthereweremoreimportantquestions

thatneededanimmediateanswer.

“Doesheknow?”Iwhispered.
“What?”Jettfrowned.
“Abouttheestate?”
Jetthesitated,ponderingwhethertotellthetruth.Iscowledinthehopehewouldn’tdare

lyingbecausewehadsworneachothertohonesty.

“Itoldhim,but—”heheavedasigh“—hedoesn’twanttobelieveit.Inhiseyesour

fathercoulddonowrong,maybebecausetheyweresomuchalike.UnlikeRobert,Nate’sa
goodguy.”

“Youguystalkoften?”
“NotasoftenasIwished.Thedistanceisn’thelping.”
“Weshouldheaddownthereforafewdays,”Isaid.Itmightdoyougood.ButthatIdidn’t

add.“Wecouldtelleveryoneaboutthebaby.”

“Yeah.”Heglancedathiswatchimpatiently,signalingthatmytimewithhimwasup.“I

needtogooversomepapers.Itwon’ttakelong,Brooke.Willyoubeokay?”Inodded,andJett’s
eyesfilledwithworry.“Ifyou’retired,Icouldhavesomeonedriveyouhome.”

“I’mfine,Jett.”Isqueezedhishandandshothimadazzlingsmile.“Youguysdowhatever

youneedtodo.I’llwaithere.”

“Itreallywon’ttakelong.”Hekissedmeandhurriedout.
Iwatchedhimdisappearinthecrowdandthenreturnedtothebuffet.EversinceI’d

foundoutaboutthepregnancy,I’dfelthungrierthanusual,soIgrabbedaplatewhenmy
phonerang.AlookatthedisplayshowedmeitwasSylvie.Shehadcalledseveraltimesinthe
pastfewdays,andinalltheturmoilIhadfailedtogetbacktoher.

“Hey.”Shesoundednervous.“I’vebeentryingtoreachyou.”
“Thefuneral’stoday,”Isaidtoremindherincaseshehadmissedmytexts.
“Iknow.”Shepaused,hesitating.Icouldalmosthearhernervousnessthroughtheline,

whichturnedmeinstantlyanxious.“Iwaswonderingifwecouldmeettomorrow.Ihaven’t
seenyouinawhile.”

“Sure.Iseverythingokay?”
“Yeah.”Shehesitatedagain.“Whataboutyou?”
“I’mfine,”Ilied,thenchangedmymind.Asbestfriends,itwasmydutytotellherthe

truth.“Actually,no.Jett’sbeenblaminghimselfforhisfather’sdeath,andIdon’tknowwhatto
doaboutit.”

“That’shuge,buthehastoacceptallthebadthingsthathappened,andthat’ssomething

youcan’tdoforhim.It’sanaturalprocess,Brooke.”

Inodded,becauseeverynowandthenSylvieopenedhermouthandsomethingamazing

cameoutofit.Itwasrarebutithappened,andrightnowwasoneofthosetimes.Somewhere
atthebackofmymindIregisteredthatsomeonehadstartedtotalkintothemicrophone
again,andafewguestshadbeguntoeyemeupanddownwithdisdain.

“Wecan’treallytalkrightnow,”Iwhispered.“Let’smeettomorrow.Threep.m.Same

placeasalways?”

“I’llbethere.”

Chapter 9

THEBISTROWASsituatedinatinycul-de-sac,shieldedfromthebusymiddaytraffic.I

pushedthedooropenandheadeddirectlyforourusualspotinthefarcorner.Sinceshewas
hiddenbyahugeplant,IspottedSylvie’sstilettoslongbeforeIspiedher.Asusual,theywere
mile-highandmatchedtherestofher.Herblondehairwasglossy,hernailsweredone,her
makeupimpeccable.Dressedinabluefitteddressthatmatchedhersapphireeyes,shelooked
stunning.Ikissedheronthecheekandslidintotheseatoppositehers.

“I’vemissedyoulikecrazy.”Sylviesmiled,scanningmeupanddown,whichwasnevera

goodsign.Eithertherewassomethingwrongwithmyoutfit,orshethoughtIlooked
exhausted,orboth.Whateverwasthematter,shekeptherthoughtstoherselfandwouldonly
startdroppinghintswhenshethoughtIwouldn’tnotice.“Theapartmentfeelslonelywithout
you.”

“I’msorry.”Irealizedwehadneverbeenseparatedthislong.“IfeelterribleIneglected

you.SomuchhashappenedthatIdidn’trealizewehaven’tseeneachotherforweeks.”

“Fifteendaysandninehours.”Shepointedathersleekcellphone.“I’vekepttrackincase

JettlocksyouupforeverandIhavetosuehisasstogetfiveminuteswithyou.”

Iopenedmymouthtoprotestwhenawaitressappearedtobringustwolattes.
“I’veorderedtheusual,”Sylviesaid.“Hopeyoudon’tmind.Thedecafisforyou.Because

ofthe—”Shewassoscaredofkids,shecouldn’tevenbringherselftosaytheword.

“Baby.”Smiling,Irolledmyeyesandtookasipofmycoffee.ItwasdeliciousthoughI

couldtastethelackofcaffeine.EventhoughIwasstillinmyfirstterm,Icouldn’twaittoget
thispregnancyoveranddonewithsoIcouldreturntomyusualknockoutcaffeinedose.

“Haveyoutoldyourmotheryet?”Sylvieasked,playingwiththespooninhercup.
“Notyet.”
Sylviefrowned.Iheldupmyhandbeforeshecouldstartherinterrogationand

persuadedmeintomakingadecisionIdidn’twanttomake.

“I’mwaitingtoseewhetherit’sseriousbetweenJettandme.Knowingher,themomentI

mentionaboyfriendorbaby,she’llgoalltraditionalonme,youknow—”Iwavedmyhand,
ignoringtheurgetorollmyeyesagain“—insistthatwegetmarriedandall.Idon’twantto
scareJett.”Themerethoughtofmentioningmarriageandscaringthehelloutofhimalmost
causedmeapanicattack.“God,Sylvie,Ifeellikeashittyfriendnotgettingintouchwithyou
sooner.Howareyou?”

“It’sokay.I’mgood.Tobehonest,Ihavebeenbusy,too.”Sheshotmeadazzlingsmile,

whichusuallyscreamedoneoftwothings:she’dsnaggedupadesignerhandbagpeople
usuallywaitedformonths,orshewasinrelationshipbliss.Itookasipofmycoffeeagain,
thinkingIknewherwellenoughtoguesswhatevershehadtosay.“IgotajobofferfromDelta
&Warren,andI’mstilldecidingwhethertotakeit.”

Igapedather.“Wow.Sylvie,that’shuge.That’sbeenyourdreamjobforever.Whatare

youwaitingfor?Afewweeksagoyousaidyou’ddoanythingtogetit.”

“Iknow,right?”Sylvieheavedanexaggeratedsigh.InarrowedmyeyesinthehopeI’d

makesenseofhercrypticexpression.Thewayherfingerscouldn’tstopplayingwiththehem
ofherdressinstantlyraisedmysuspicion.

“Why?”Iprompted.
“I’vebeendoingsomethinkingthesepastfewdays.”

Sylvieneverthought.Sheactedonimpulse,doingwhateverherlittleheartandhotbody

desired.

“Idon’tunderstand.Thisisyourdreamjob.Youworkedhardforit,andnowyoutellme

you’vebeenthinking?”

“Iknowhowthissounds.”Sheavoidedmygazeagain,andinthatinstantIknewmy

initialinstincthadbeenright.“KennywantstoshowmeArkansas.Thiscouldbemyfirsttry
atarealrelationship.Idon’twanttomessitup.Besides,he’sseensomanyplaces,Ifeellike
I’vebeenmissingout.”

Iblinkedseveraltimes,unabletocomprehendthemeaningofherwords.“Youwantto

goonaroadtripwithKenny?”Iasked,shocked.“Whathappenedto‘neverputaguyfirst’?”

“It’sjustfortwomonths,afterwhichI’dbebacktomyusualboringlife.”
Boring?Sylviewouldn’tknowwhatboringwasifitcameknockingonherdoor.
“Butyou’reacitygirl,Sylvie.Youhatesittinginacar,orsittinganywhere,forlongerthan

anhour.Yousayitmakesyouitchy.”

Sheshrugged.“MaybeI’mconverted.Lifechangespeople.I’vebeenstudyingand

workingmybuttoffmywholelife.MaybeI’msickofitall.MaybeIneedsomethingnew.”

Inarrowedmyeyesonheragain,assessingher.Somethingelsemusthavehappened,

becausetheSylvieIknewdidstupidthings,buttheyweren’tmonumentallystupid.HadJett’s
father’sdeathaffectedherinanyway?Shehadn’tknownhim,butmaybehispassingaway
madeherawareofjusthowfleetinglifewas.Deepinmyheart,IcouldacceptthatSylvie
soughtsomethingnew,becauseIwantedtoseeherhappyandsupporther,nomatterhow
crazyitallwas.Ijustwantedhertobeawareofanyconsequences.

“Whenareyouplanningtogo?”Iasked.
“KennywantstoleaveassoonasI’mready.Ithoughtmaybebeforethemonth’sup.”
“Ifthat’swhatyouwant,I’llsupportyou,”Isaid.“Youdon’thavetopleaseanyone.And

youlovevacations.”Ofthefive-starcateredkind,whichIdidn’tadd.“Butbeforeyoudecide,I
justwanttoremindyouthisjobwasyourbigdream.Itmightbeaonceinalifetime
opportunity.”

“Iknow,”shewailed,“whichiswhyit’ssohardtodecide.Andthenthere’syouandthe

—”

“Baby.”
Shewavedherhand.“Yeah.Idon’twanttoleaveyouonyourown.”
“Well,don’tworryaboutus.I’msureyou’llbebackbeforeit’sborn.Westillhaveafew

moremonthstogo.”

“Yousure?”Shesoundeddoubtful.“MaybeJettandyouneedabreak.Ifyouwant,you

cancomewithus.”

Ifrowned.IhadwatchedSylvieforthepastminutesandsomehowfromthewayshe

behaved,Ijustknewshewashidingsomething.Shewasnervous,morethanusual.Andwhat
wasshesayinganyway?ThatIendmyrelationshipandleaveJettaloneinhisgrief?

“AreyousuggestingIbreakupwithhim?”Itriedtokeepmyvoicelowandcasualbut

didn’tsucceed.

Sheleanedoverthetableandgrabbedmyhandtostopthesuddenwaveofanger

washingoverme.“No,Brooke.Iwasthinkinghemightneedsometimealonetodealwithhis
grief.Peoplearen’tthemselveswhentheysufferloss.Idon’twantthingstotaketheirtollon
you.”

“Ican’t,Sylvie.”Myvoicecameoutmoreagitatedthannecessary.Itookadeepbreath

andletitoutslowly.“Heneedsmemorethanever.Evenwhenheshutsmeoutofhislife,it’s
likeapartofmeiswithhim,feelingwhathefeels.Itliterallypainsmetoseehimlikethat.”

ThemereideaofnotseeingJettdailyandnotwakinguptotheroughstubbleofhis

cheeksgratingmyskinmademeanxioustocallhimjusttohearhisvoice.

“Iknow,sweetie,butIhonestlyfeelyoushouldthinkaboutit.”Shetookmyhandagain,

hervoicechangingtoawhisper.“Thereareotherthingsyouneedtoworryabout.”

Mywholebodystiffened.“Whatdoyoumean?”
Shebitherlip,hereyesavoidingmine.“That’swhyI’vebeencalling,butyouwerenever

available.Iwould’vetextedyou,butwhenJett’sfatherdied,youwerebusy,andit’snot
somethingyoushouldeverputinatextmessage.”

“Pleasedon’ttellmeyouhadthekindofsurpriseIhadbackinItaly.”Ilaughednervously.

AnunwantedpregnancywasSylvie’snightmare.“Therehasalreadybeensomuchdrama.”

“No,that’snotit.”Shelookeddown,stalling,avoidingmygazeonpurpose,whichwasn’t

agoodsign.Worrysetin.WasKennyabusive?Thosethingshappened.Youhearditeveryday,
readabouttheminthenewspaper.Ididn’twantSylvietobeavictim.“IsitKenny?Whatever’s
wrong,youcantellme.JustbecauseJettneedsmedoesn’tmeanI’mnothereforyou.”

“Thingsarefinewithhim.We’redating.He’sgreat,”Sylviesaid.Iopenedmymouthto

pushforananswerwhensheheldupahand.“Pleasestop,Brooke.It’snotaboutme.It’sabout
youandJett,andit’sbad….God,thisissohardtosay.”

“Bad?”Myfingersclenchedaroundmycupsotight,Ifeareditmightsnapashundredsof

thoughtsracedthroughmymind.

WhatcouldSylvieknowthatIdidn’t?Washehavinganaffair,andshedidn’tknowhow

tobreakittome?

“Promisemeyouwon’tkillme,”shesaid,squeezingmyhand.“Ineedyoutopromise,

becauseIswearotherwiseI’mnottellingyouanything.”

Myheartstartedtorace.Allofasudden,Ididn’twanttoknow.IfeltlikeIshouldjustrun

outofthedoorandnotlookback,pretendthisconversationneverhappened.Butmyfeet
weregluedtothefloorwhile,inside,thechainsofmyheartwereabouttounleashatornado
ofchaos.

WhatcouldbesoterriblethatSylviewastooworriedtotellme?Iknewmybestfriend.

Shewasneverafraidtoshareherhonestopinion.Andthenitdawnedonmethatanaffairwas
theonlyreasonwhySylviemighthavebeensojumpy.

Jettwashavinganaffair.Iknewitbecausehe’dbeenworkinglonghourslately,often

arrivinghomepastmidnight.

Whatdidyouexpect,Stewart?He’saguywithanoversizedegoandthekindoflooksno

manshouldpossess.Whatwomanwouldeversay“no”tothat?

“Iknowwhatyouwanttotellme,”Iwhispered.“Ishouldhaveknownallalong.”
Sylviegrimaced.“Idon’tthinkwe’retalkingaboutthesamethinghere.”
“Areyoutalkingaboutcheating?”
“What?No,thebook.It’sbeenwithmeallalong.”
Shestaredatme,anxiouslyawaitingmyreaction.Hereyesshimmeredwithsomething

andnowIunderstood.Herjumpinessdidn’tstemfromfrayednerves.

Itwascausedbyfear.Purerawfear.
Thekindthatmakesyouwanttojointhewitnessprotectionprogram.Thekindoffear

thatmakesyouwanttobuyagun,andthenbarricadeeveryoneyouloveinsideapanicroom.

“Whatareyoutalkingabout?Whatbook?”Iasked,butevenbeforesheconfirmedmy

biggestnightmare,Ifeltphysicallysick.“Howisthatevenpossible?Itwasstolen.”

“Notreally.”Shesmirked.“Ifounditinsidemybag.SomehowImusthavegrabbedit

withtherestofmystuffbeforewedrovebacktoBellagiotobuythepregnancytests.”She
squeezedmyhandapologetically.“I’msosorry,Brooke.MybagislikeatinyBermudaTriangle
thatswallowsupeverything.IswearwhateverIputinthere,it’seitherlostorforgotten,only
toresurfacewhenitwantsto.It’sallmyfault.”

“Youmeanit’sbeenwithusallalong?”Isaidslowly.
Shenodded.
“Whataboutthedisk?”
Shenoddedagain.“Thebook,thedisk,they’reallhere.Theonlythingtheytookarethe

financialreportsandthesheetsofpaperyoufoundinthebasement.”

Mymindbegantospin.“Oh,God.Yourealizethiscouldbethereasonwhytheykilled

Jett’sfather,right?”Iclosedmyeyes,wishingIcouldhideforever.

Descendintodarkness,butintodarknessIwasalreadydescending,anditseemedworse

thanIeverimaginedittobe.

Jett’sfatherdidnotdiebecauseJettdidn’twarnhim.Hedidn’tdiebecausesomeonehad

puthimonsomehitlist.Hewaskilledbecausethepeopleinvolvednevergotwhattheycame
for,andtheyweredangerousenoughtocommitmurder.

“RobertMayfieldwasapotentialwitness,”Isaidslowly,thewordsechoinginmybrain

withtheintensityofdrumrolls.“Heknewtheclubinsideandout.Heheldalltheinformation
wecouldhavewanted.BeingJett’sfather,theyfearedhemightsaytoomuchtous.Addhis
statementtothebookandthedisk,andwecould’vehadrealevidenceagainstwhatever’s
goingoninthere.”

Myheadpoundedhard,reinforcingthesenseofsicknessinsidemeatthethoughtof

whatthismightmeanforus.

“Ifeelsick.”
Iranforthebathroom,faintlyawareofSylvie’spresenceasIstormedintoacubicle.I

lingeredoverthebowluntilmystomachwasempty.Sylvie’shandbrushedmyback,butshe
remainedquietasIwashedmyface.Thecoldwatercooledmyhotskinandhelpedclearmy
head.AndthenIbrokedown.Likeaburstingdam,thetearsbegantospillbeforeIcouldstop
them.

“HowamIsupposedtotellJett?”Iasked.“Afterwhathappenedtohisfather,hemight

thinkI’mnotworththeriskandendthingswithme.”

“Youdon’ttellhim,Brooke.”Sylvie’seyesmetmine,andforamomentIwasleft

speechlessbythecalculationanddeterminationIglimpsedinthem.“Youjustpretend
nothing’shappened.”

“Untilshithitsthefan?”Isnorted.“Areyoufuckingnuts?”
“ThenI’lltellhim.It’smyfault,notyours,soI’lldealwithhim.”
“Areyousureit’syourfault?”IthoughtbacktothedayIfoundoutIwaspregnant.My

memorieswereablurrymessbecauseofthehugenewsIthoughtwouldbreakmyworld
apart.Irememberedahandbagandpapersandushurryingout,butwhograbbedwhat?“It
couldjustaswellhavebeenme.Youalwaysforgetstuff,andIalwaysmakesuretoremember
toretrievewhateveryouleavebehind.Besides,Itendtoshovemystuffinsideyourbag

becauseyoursisalwayslargerthanmine.”

“Itdoesn’tmatterwhodidwhat.Ihonestlydon’tthinkyoushouldtellhim.”Sheshook

herhead.

Acoldfeelingsettledinthepitofmystomach.Wehadpromisedeachotherhonesty.

Technically,nottellinghimwasn’tlying,butkeepingsecretssurefeltlikeit.

“Ican’t.”Igrabbedhershouldersinaweakattempttomakeherunderstandmy

dilemma.“Whatiftheyhurtmorepeople?Hehastoknow.”

Ilookedintohereyesandsawmyownfearreflectedinthem.Wasthatthereasonwhy

shewassohell-bentongoingonaroadtrip,farawayfromthedramaandthedangerIseemed
toattractlikeamagnet?

“Ifhebreaksupwithme,I’llbefine,”Isaid,mymindmadeup.“It’llbreakmyheart

probablyevenmorethanbeforeandit’lltakealongtimetoheal,butatleastI’dhavecome
clean.”

“Whywouldhedothat?It’dbestupid.Jettmightbemanythings,buthe’snotanidiot.”

Shesmiled,butIknewitwasfakeandmeanttomakemefeelbetterfromthewayitdidn’t
quitereachhereyes.Theslighttremorinhervoicesignaledshewasjustasunsureofwhat
thefutureheldinstoreforusasIwas.“You’retoogoodforhim,andheknowsit.”

“I’mnotsosureaboutthat.”Ishookmyhead.
Ihadbeenkiddingmyself.
Afterthebreak-in,Jetthadassuredmethatitwasover.Icouldstillrememberhisexact

words.

Theyhaveeverythingtheywanted,sothereisnoneedforthemtocomeback.
Buttheydidn’thavewhattheywanted.Maybetheyhadintendedtosendoutamessage

bykillingRobertMayfield.Ifthatwasthecase,noonewassafe.NotI,norSylvie,Jett,orNate.
Butthatwasn’tmybiggestfear.Jett’sguiltkeptnaggingathim,andIcouldn’tshakeoffthe
feelingthateverythinghadhappenedbecauseofme.FortheumpteenthtimesinceSylvie’s
confessionIwonderedhowJettwouldreactonceIdisclosedthetruth.Whatifhestartedto
blamemeforhisfather’sdemise?And,mostimportantly,wouldhebeabletoforgiveme?
Becauseassureasthesuncomesdownafterabeautifulday,promisingacoldnight,hewould
bemadandIdidn’tknowwhatafullconfessionmightmeanforus.Wouldwestaytogether?
Wouldhecontinuelovingme?

AndtothinkofallthetimesIhadexpectedJettwouldletmedown;ofallthetimesIhad

mistrustedhim.EversinceIfoundoutJetthadliedtome,Ihadbeenworriedabouthim
hurtingme,whichseemedludicrousinlightofthedisasterthatwasabouttounfold.For
weeksIhadwatchedhimandtriedtoreadeverygestureandwordwhilethethoughtnever
occurredtomethatImightbetheonetomakeamistakesograveitwouldcostalife.Inever
realizedImightbetheonewhofailed,andIhatedmyselfforit.

IfJettlovedmetruly,he’dforgivetheunforgivable.Butevenifhedid,wouldIbeableto

forgivemyselfforkillinghisfather?Mysisterwasonething.Herdeathhadbeenmyfaultand
itstillhauntedmeinmydreams.ButwhataboutJett’sfather?CouldIlivewithaseconddeath
onmyconscience?

Chapter 10

NONEOFUSspokeduringthetaxiridetoSylvie’sapartment,whichwehadsharedfor

yearsuntiltwoweeksago.AfterourarrivalfromItaly,JettandIhaddecidedthatitmightbe
saferforthebabyandmetomoveinwithhim.Ihadagreedreluctantlybecausehehada
point,but,standinginmyformerlivingroompaintedthecoloroflavenderanddecorated
withwaytoomuchfluff,Icouldn’thelpthenostalgiawashingoverme.Maybemymemories
werewhatpreventedmefromreturningthekeyorfromtakingallmybelongingswithme,but
IrealizedIwasn’tyetreadytoclosethedooronthispartofmypast.

Insilence,IwatchedSylviedropherhandbagonthecoffeetableandshrugoutofher

jacket,tossingitontopofthebag,beforesheturnedtome.

“Ican’ttellyouhowsorryIam.Ijust—”
“Don’t.”Icutheroff.“Let’sfocusonthenowandworrylater.Showmethebook.”
“Stayhere.I’llberightback.”
“AsifI’dgoanywhere,”Imumbled.
WaitingforSylvie,IfiguredImightaswellmakemyselfcomfortable,soIgotustwocans

ofsodafromthekitchenandslumpedonthecouch,thenopenedoneandtookasip.Iputit
downonthecouchtableandseriouslyconsideredcheckingonSylviewhenshefinally
returned.ThetensionwassothickIcouldalmosttasteit.Ipeerednervouslyatthebundle
Sylviehandedme.

Theblackleather-boundbookseemedlightinmyhands,butitlookedjustasominousas

Irememberedit.TherewasstillachancethatSylviehadsomehowgottenherhandson
someone’sjournalwithyellowedpagescarryingthejoyofanewrelationshipormaybethe
secretsofaloveaffair—anythingbutfivenamesandafewstringsofnumbers.Iopenedthe
firstpage,andmylastmorselofhopethatitmightallbeamisunderstandingdissolvedinto
thinair.IwisheditwasjustanightmarefromwhichIcouldn’twakeup,butnomatterhow
manytimesIpinchedmyself,IknewIwasn’tdreaming.Nodreamcouldbesoterribleand
shattering.Nodreamcouldeverevokethekindofdevastationthosefivenamescausedinside
me.

Istaredatthemastheycircledbeforemyeyeslikearecordonreplay:

DavidMcMuldrow
EricStatham
ClarenceHolton
RobertMayfield
TroyBradleyWilson

“HaveyoutoldKenny?”Ifinallysaid.
“No.”Sylvieshookherhead,herblueeyesmeetingmine.“Iwantedtoshowyoufirst.

What’sthebigdealwiththenames?”

“Jettthinksit’sahitlist.Hebelievestheytriedtogetout.”
“That’sfuckedup.”Sylvieletoutadeepbreath.“Actually,IGoogledthem.”
“Youdid?”Isatup,interested.“Didyoufindanything?”
“IknowClarenceHolton.Notpersonally,buthe’sfriendswithmyfather.Theyusedtogo

golfingtogether.OwnshalfthegossipmagazinesinEurope.”

“Right.”Itappedmyfingersonthebook.Ididn’tlikethefactthatClarenceHoltonwas

acquaintedwithSylvie’sfamily.“Whatabouttheothers?”

Sheleanedforwardconspiratoriallyandbegantowhisper,“There’sasemi-famousTroy

BradleyWilsoninCanada.He’steachingphysicsinMontreal,haswonafewawards,andisa
householdnameinvariousjournals.Buthedidn’tstrikemeastheguywe’relookingfor,soI
dugfurtherandIfoundanotherTroyguy.He’sasuccessfulpublicspeakerandtheco-founder
ofacompanyinSanDiegocalled—wait!”

Shedisappeareddownthehallandreturnedwithanotebook,thenbegantoreadout

loud.“Latrix.Theyspecializein,nowlisten,importingsexproducts.”

“Sexproductsandaclub.Muchofacoincidence?”Isaid.
“Yeah.”Sheraisedhereyebrowsmeaningfully.“Movingontothenext.GooglingEric

Stathambroughttoomanyhitsbut,assuminghe’srich,whichseemstobeaprerequisite,he’s
eitherasuccessfulentrepreneurorafamousfootballplayerfromIllinois.Idon’tthinkhe’sa
footballplayerbecausetheguy’shot.Like,seriouslyhot.Heprobablydoesn’tneedthatsortof
clubtogetlaid.”

“Sotheentrepreneuritis.”Iglancedatthelasttwonamesonthelist.“Noneedto

establishwhoRobertMayfieldis.WhataboutDavidMcMuldrow?Didyoudigupanythingon
him?”

Ireadhisnameoutloudagainandthenlookedup.Sylviewasstaringatme.Hersudden

hesitationwasn’tagoodthing.

“Whoishe?”Iprompted.
“He’samurderer.Hekilledhiswifeandtwochildren.Psychologistsdeclaredhimas

mentallyunstable,buthewasallowedtowalkfreeduetoalackofevidence.”

Mybloodfrozeinmyveins.
“It’ssocruel,”Sylviewhispered.“I’veseenpicturesofhischildrenandtheabusethey

endured.Itistoohorribletoevenimagine.”

“It’saharshandunfairworld,”Isaidbitterly.“Evenifyoufightforjustice,expecttolose

andmaybeevenberidiculedfortrying.”Ilookedattheblackbookinmyhands.“Mysister’s
boyfriendDannywalkedfreebecausethejudgewasswayedbypersonalbiasesandfailedto
seethatbehindDanny’ssmilingfaceandcharmingwordshidamonster.Nolawintheworld
willhelpifjusticeisswayedbyahumaninabilitytojudgebetweenrightandwrong,goodand
evil,andthatbeautifuldoesn’tequalgood.”

“Iknow,”Sylviesaidweakly.
Iclosedthebook,wishingit’dbeaseasyformetoshutoffevil.Putitaway.Hideit.Burn

it.Dowhateverwasnecessarytomaketheworldasaferplace.

“SometimesIwishIcouldkillhim.TherewerenightsIwantedtoseehimdeadforallthe

tortureandpainhecausedmysister.”Ilaughed—notbecauseitwasfunnybutbecausethe
thoughthurt.

Iwipedastraytearfrommyface,thereminderoflosstooheavy,andwatchedthe

moistureonmyfinger.“Theygrantedhimprotection.WhilemyparentsandIwere
threatenedbyDanny’sfriendsandfearedforourlives,thatpieceofshitspenthisdayscozyin
asafehouse.Nomatterhowmanyyearspass,Ican’tstopthinkingaboutherandallthethings
Icouldhavedonetosaveher.Peoplekeepsayingshithappensforareason.I’dlovetoknow
whatthatreasonis.”

Sylvie’sarmswrappedaroundmeinatighthug.InthesilenceoftheroomIknewshe

understoodme.Thatshewasthereforme—shealwayswas.Assimpleandstraightforwardas
hertouchseemed,itmeantalotmorethanwords,whichwerecheapandworthless,spoken
withnorealintentionbehindthem,exceptmaybetoputanuncomfortableconversationto
rest.Besides,therewerenowordsSylviecouldsaytoeasethepaininsideme.Sheknewit.I
knewit.Sayingsorrywassimplynotenough.

Timecouldn’terasemymemories.Timecouldn’tmakethemhurtless,butmademe

appreciatethemmore.Witheveryday,witheverybreathItook,Icouldfeelmyselfgrowing,
becomingstronger—abravermewhoacceptedthatthisworldwasn’tjustbeautiful.Itwas
cruel.Itwasheartbreaking,andonlythestrongestsurvived.Thekindofworldthathadtaught
metheneedtokeepgoing,tocontinuefighting,tokeeplearning.Togetupafterfallingand
keepgoingsomemore,withoutrelyingonanyone,withoutlookingback.

“I’msorryforlayingthisonyou.Myhead’sahorribleplacetobeinrightnow.Idon’t

knowwhenitallturnedsoserious,”Isaid,feelingguiltyformyemotionalrollercoasterride.I
forcedasmileonmyfaceandpeeledmyselfoutofSylvie’sembrace.

“Iwishyou’dtalkaboutit,”Sylviesaidgently.
Ishookmyhead.Nowwasn’tthetime.“ThepointIwantedtomakeisthatwecan’tbe

surewhethertheguywe’relookingfor,EricStatham,isn’tthefootballplayer.Nomatterhow
hotheis,don’tlethisappearanceswayyou,becauseevilpeoplelookjustlikeyouandme.An
evilmindisn’talwaystheresultofbadupbringing.It’stheresultofbadcharacter,anditcan
happenwithoutanyoutsideinfluence.Thereareattractivebadpeople,notbecausetheywere
createdthatway.It’samatterofchoice,onewe’llneverunderstandnomatterhowhardwe
try.”

“Ialwaysthoughtthebadguyslookinsane.”Herlipstwitched.Herfeebleattemptat

infusinghumorintoatensesituationwasmorethanwelcome.

“You’vebeenwatchingtoomanyhorrormovies.”
“Youmakemethinktwiceaboutinvitingthepizzadeliveryboyin.Makesmewantto

hideinsidearoomlikealoonybinandtrustnoone.”

“Isfindingthebookthereasonwhyyouwanttogoonaroadtrip?”Ihadbeenwantingto

askthequestionsinceSylvietoldmeaboutherdiscovery.“Isrunningawayfromitallyour
solution?”

“Neverthoughtaboutthat,”sheadmitted.“KennyaskedmebeforeIfoundit.Butin

someway,yes.IthoughtifIphysicallydistancedmyselffromitall,Icouldescape.Maybe
whenIreturneverythingwillbeover,becauserightnowIfeellikeI’mbeingwatched.Iknow
that’sparanoiatalking,butstill.”

“Running’snottheanswertoourproblems.”Iglancedatmywatch.Inlessthananhour,

Jettwouldfinishwork,andIwantedtobehomebeforehewasback.Ipushedthebookand
diskinsidemyhandbag.“Gottago.”Istoodandheadedforthedoor,thenstoppedmidway,
rememberingIhadn’taskedaboutthedisk.“Didyoucheckoutthediskaswell?”

“Itried,butitrequiresapassword.”
“We’llhavetotalktoKenny,then.Bytheway,he’sawesome.”Ishruggedintomyjacket.

“Ittookmeawhiletofigurehimout,butI’mgladyou’redating.”

“Yeah,me,too.WhoknewItalywouldturnoutthewayitdid?”Hercheeksflushedalittle

bit,whichneverhappenedwhenSylvietalkedaboutaguy.“SpeakingofItaly,Iforgottoask.
Haveyoubyanychanceseenmytennisbracelet?IrememberIstillhaditwhenwecame
back.”

Ishookmyhead.ThetennisbraceletwasoneofSylvie’sfavoritepiecesofjewelry.“It’s

probablyinthebathroom.Ifit’snotthere,I’llstopbylaterthisweektohelpyoufindit.”

“It’sokay.ForallIknowitmightbesomewhereinsidethesuitcase.Ihaven’tunpacked

yet.”Shelaughedandaccompaniedmetothedoor,hesitating.“Wantmetocomewithyou?”

“No.I’llbefine.”Ihuggedherbriefly.
“Areyousure?”
Iheavedanexaggeratedsigh.“I’mnotafraid.Istoppedbeingafraidofbadpeoplealong

timeagobecauseIdon’tcarewhathappenstome.WhatscaresmeisdisappointingJett,so
rightnowIreallywanttogetthisoveranddonewith.”

Sheleanedagainstthedoorframeandcrossedherarmsoverherchest.“It’scalledbeing

inlove,Iguess.Yousimplytreasurewhatyouwanttokeep.Ifhedoesn’tforgiveyou,he
doesn’tfeelthesamewayaboutyou.Youdeservesomeonewhostandsbyyouinevery
possibleway.Ifhetrulylovesyou,he’llwalktheextramilejustforyou.”

“Thanksfortheinsight,Oprah.”Itwasourfavoriteline.“I’llcallyoulaterwithanupdate

ontheJettsituation.Wishmeluck,andmakesuretolockup.”

“YouknowIalwaysdo.”Whichwasalie.Shealwaysforgot.
Sylviedidn’tmoveoutoftheway,andinspiteofherencouragingsmile,hergaze

imploredmetostay.IwantedtosobadlyIalmostcavedin.ButIneededtotalkwithJett.

“I’llseeyouwhenIseeyou.”Iwalkedpasther,eagerforsomealonetimetosortthrough

mythoughts.

Chapter 11

OUTSIDE,THERAINhadstopped,buttheskywasstillapaletteofgray.Theaircarried

thescentoffumesanddampearth,andafaintpromisethatfallwouldsoonbecoming,
coloringthestreetsinhuesofcopperandorange.Iforcedoxygenintomylungsandheaded
downtheroadinsearchofataxi,mindingthepuddlesateverycorner.

Ireachedacrossingandstopped.Ablacklimousinepassedbyandturnedacorner,

headingforSylvie’sbuilding.

Thelightschangedtogreen.IwasabouttocrossthestreetwhenInoticedaguywalking

towardme,waving.

“Excuseme?”hesaidinastrongforeignaccentIwasn’tabletoplace.“Canyouhelpme?”

DressedinjeansandaT-shirtwiththelogo“IloveNY”slappedacrosshischest,helookedlike
atourist.Andalostoneatthat.Ismiled.

“Sure.Whereareyouheading?”Iasked.
Heinchedcloser.Hisarmsbrushedminecasuallyasheshowedmethemap.Hedidn’t

seemtomind,butIleanedawaytoputsomeinchesbetweenus.Ithappenedbefore.People
whodidn’tknowwhentheywereinmypersonalspace.

“Sorry.”Hesmiledapologeticallyandpointedtoaspotonthemap.“Ineedtogetthere.”
“Youshouldgetataxi.It’swaytoofartowalk.”Ihadlookeduptomakesurehe

understoodwhensomeonegrabbedmefrombehindandcoveredmymouthwithsuchforceit
knockedmybreathoutofmylungs.Myhandbagwasyankedoffmyshoulder.Foramoment
mymindwentblank,unabletoputameaningtothesituation,andthenawarenesskickedin.
MyheartalmostfrozeinmychestasIstruggledagainsttheirongripdraggingmetoanearby
carIrealizedwastheblacklimousine.

“Letmego!”Iscreamed,butnosoundescapedmythroat.IbitashardasIcouldonthe

handclampingmymouthshut,myteethpiercingthroughskin.

“Bitch,”amalevoicehissedamomentbeforeIwaspushedflatonmykneesandthecar

doorslammed,bathingmeinpitch-black.Inspiteofthesharppangofpainshootingthrough
myleftkneeandcarryingthroughmythigh,Idashedforthedoorandyankedatthehandle.It
didn’topen.

Iwastrapped.
Fuck!
Mybreathquickenedascountlessthoughtsbegantoracethroughmyhead.Iwasbeing

abducted,andnobodyknewwhereIwas.IfIdidn’talertsomeonenow,Imightnevermakeit
outalive.Slammingmyfistsagainstthewindow,Iscreamedforhelp.Myvoiceechoedinmy
ears,butnothingstirredandnoonecametomyaid.Thewindowsweren’tjusttinted,making
itimpossibletopeerinside—orout;thecarwasprobablyalsosoundproof.Theengine
whirredtolife,andthenwebegantomove.

Think,Stewart.
Itookadeepbreathandletitoutslowlytocalmmyfrayednerves.MaybeifIwerelucky

enough,myabductorsmightmakedowithmyhandbagandthevaluablesinside,anddump
mebackonthestreet.IknewIwasholdingontofoolishhope,butIcouldn’tletrealitykickin
justyet.

IfiguredIcouldwriteanoteandthrowitout—ifthewindowopened.Someonemight

finditandcallforhelp.Ialwayscarriedpaperandpeninmyhandbag,andmymindalready

cameupwithamessage:Helpme.Iwasabductedinablacklimousinebytwoguys,onewithan
accent.Thanksanddon’talwaystrustatourist.

IlaughedbitterlyatmyownhorridjokeasIsankbacktomykneesandbrushedmy

palmsacrossthefloorinsearchofmyhandbagandamiracle.IfonlyIcouldgetmyhandson
mycell,thefirstthingI’ddowascall911,andthey’dtrackthecar.OrsendatexttoalertJettof
thesituation.

Andthensomeoneswitchedonthelights.Iblinkedseveraltimesuntilmyeyesadjusted

andItookinthefiguresittingontheotherside.

Noshit!
Mymindplacedanametotheface,butitcouldn’tbe.Iwaseitherhallucinatingorgoing

crazy.ButhelookedprettyrealandtherewasnomistakehewasthesameguyIhadseeninall
thepicturesatthefuneral.Infrontofme,hisfingersinterlaced,bentforwardtoregardme
intently,wasRobertMayfield.Andhewasverymuchalive.

Chapter 12

“YOU’REPROBABLYlookingforthis.”RobertMayfieldtossedmyhandbagmyway,andit

landedatmyfeet.Isnaggedit,thankfulhehadn’topenedittocheckitscontents.WhileIdidn’t
knowforsurewhathewantedfromme,orwhyhewasalive,Ihadaprettygoodidea.Fora
moment,Iwastemptedtoretrievemycell,butIcouldn’triskhimdiscoveringtheblackbook
anddisk.IneededthoseincaseIhadtohaggleformylife.

“Iknowyouhaveacellphoneinthere.Don’teventhinkabouttryingtocallanyone,”he

continued,readingmythoughts.“Infact,handitover.”

“Iwasn’tgoingtocallanyone,”Imuttered.Iopenedthezipperjustenoughtosqueeze

myhandthroughandrummageforthephone.WhenIfoundit,Ipasseditontohim,making
surehedidn’tglimpsethesidecompartmentwhereIhadhiddenthebookanddisk.

Hemotionedformetositdownoppositefromhim.“CanIofferyouadrink,Brooke?”

Withoutwaitingformyanswer,hepouredwhiskyintotwoglassesandhandedmeone.Isat
downintheleatherseatandtooktheglassfromhisoutstretchedhandbutdidn’tdrink.“I
havetoapologizeforthewaymytwoguardstreatedyou.It’snotstandardprocedurewithour
employees.”

“Ithoughtyouwere—”Ibegan.
“Dead?”hefinishedforme.“That’swhateverybody’sthinking.It’swhatIwantthemto

believe.”

Hepointedatmydrinkinvitingly.Iwatchedthegoldenliquidlikeitwaspoisonbecause

Ididn’ttrusthim.Peoplewhowantafriendlychatdon’tabductyou.Theyusuallyinviteyou
overforcoffeeinsteadofmakingyouthinkyoumightbeabouttobesmuggledtoMexico.

Alarmbellsbegantoringinthebackofmyhead,andmythroatfeltparched.
“Idon’tunderstand.Whywouldyouwantyoursonstobelieveyouweredead?”I

whispered.“Whywouldanyoneputtheirchildrenthroughsomuchpain?”

“Drink.It’ssafe.”
Ididn’tfollowhiscommand.MyfingersclutchedattheglassasIwatchedhimforafew

seconds,waitingforhisexplanation.Itnevercame.

RobertMayfieldraisedhiseyebrowsandgesturedattheglassagain.Hewantedmeto

drinkup.Ifigureditwassomesordidpowergame,andifIwantedtosurviveandescape,Ihad
toplayalong.Judgingfromtheexpressiononhisface,heknewitjustaswellasIdid.Maybeif
hethoughtIwasbeingcooperative,hemightconsiderlettingmego.Iliftedtheglasstomy
lipsandtookasip,thenletthewhiskeyburnitswaydownmythroat.

Pleasedwithmyaction,hetookasipandleanedbackwithasmile,swirlingthegolden

liquidinhisglass.

“Toansweryourquestion,it’scomplicated,”hesaidatlast.“I’mdoingthemafavor.”
Ihopedhe’delaborate.Whenhedidn’treply,IrealizedthatwasallI’dgetoutofhim.As

muchasIwantedtoprobe,amoreimportantquestionlingeredinmymind.

“Whatdoyouwantfromme?”
“Somanyquestions,Brooke.”Heshookhisheadslowly,asifhehadtoeducatean

ignorantchild.“Jettdidn’texaggeratewhenhesaidweshouldhireyoubecauseyouwere
feisty.”Herefilledhisglassandleanedbackagain,hisgreeneyesassessingme.Eventhough
theywerethesameshadeasJett’s,Ididn’tseeanywarmthinthem.

“Areyougoingtohurtme?Isthatwhatyouwant?”Iaskedquietly.

Hissmiledisappeared.Icouldn’tsuppressalighttrembleasacoldshudderrandown

myspine.Whateverhehadtosay,IwassureIwouldn’tlikeit.

“Quitetheopposite.Ihaveapropositionforyou.Let’scallitachancetostartover.A

newlife,Brooke.”

Hisfingersmovedinsidehispockettopulloutacheckheslidovertowardme.Seeingall

thezeroes,Ialmosttoppledoffmyseat.

Holyhell!
Twomillion!
“MovetoPortland,Oregon,andthemoneyshallbeyours.”
“Why?”Inarrowedmyeyes.Noonegiftedsomuchmoneyunlesstheyreceived

somethinginreturn.RobertMayfieldwantedsomething.Guyslikehimalwaysdid.

“Iwantthebook.Youstillhaveit,don’tyou?”
Deepinsideofme,I’dseenitcoming.
Ofcoursehewantedthebook.Thefactthatithadlaidburiedinabasementshowedits

truevalue.Ipressedthebagtomychest.

“Itdepends,”Ianswered.“Whatelsedoyouwant?”
“Iwantyoutostayoutofmyson’slife.”Hisvoicewascold,justlikehisicystarethat

nevershiftedfrommeashespoke.

Iblinkedseveraltimes,unabletograspthemeaningofhiswords.
“You—”Myvoicefailedme.
“Youunderstoodright,Brooke,”RobertMayfieldsaidcalmly.“Tomorrowyou’llleave

NewYorkandJett.You’lldisappear—justlikeme.Youwon’tgetintouchwithmyson,norwith
yourfamilyorfriends.Everybodyyoueverknewwillbelieveyoudisappearedwithouta
trace.”HisvoicedroppedtoawhisperasheleanedsocloseIcouldsmellthealcoholonhis
breath.“Don’teventhinkaboutrunningornotacceptingmyoffer.I’llmakesurenoonewill
everfindyou.Mypeoplewillwatchyoutoseeifyoufollowtherules.”

“No.Idon’twantthemoney.”Ishookmyheadvehemently.“AndI’mnotgoinganywhere.

Youcan’tstopmefromseeingJettormyfamily.Peoplemeanmoretomethanfinancialgain.”
ThethoughtoflosingJett,myfamily,myoldlife,scaredandangeredme.“Youcanhavethe
book,butI’mnotleavingmyoldlifebehind.I’mdecliningyouroffer.”Mylegswereshakingso
badlyIfearedtheymightbucklebeneathme,butmyvoicewassurprisinglycomposed.

“Youwillwantit.”HisvoicewassoforcefulIflinched.“Youdon’tunderstand,Brooke.If

yourfamily,friends,orJettmeananythingtoyou,anythingatall,you’dbetterdowhatIsay,or
I’llmakethemgoaway.Justlikethat.”Hesnappedhisfingers.Hislipscurledintoasmile,but
hiseyesbetrayedhisrealemotions.“Youhavenochoice.Ifyouwantthemaliveandsafe,
you’llbringmethebookandleaveyourlifebehindwithouttellinganyone.”

Iinterlacedmyhandsinmylaptostopthemfromshaking.
“Youwouldn’t.”ForsomereasonIfelttheurgetoappealtothehumanpartofhim

because,inmystupidity,Ithoughttherehadtobeone.

“Leavemenochoice,andIwill,”hesaid,misinterpretingmygesture,andretrieveda

jewelryboxthesizeofhispalmfromacompartment,thenopeneditandhandedittome.I
staredatthepieceofjewelryinsilence.Ofcourseitcouldbeanyone’sbutIknewitwas
Sylvie’smissingtennisbracelet,andthethoughtscaredthecrapoutofme.

“Shewasasleep.Didn’tevennoticethetwomenbreakinginandunclaspingitfromher

wrist.Iknoweverythingabouther.Theplacesshevisits,thepeopleshemeets.Let’ssay,one

ThursdayeveningshevisitsVixen’sintotheearlymorninghours,thewayshealwaysdoes,
butthistimeshe’snotmakingithome,andnoonewilleverknowwhathappenedtoher.’

Thethreathungheavyintheair.Iswallowedhardtogetridofthebilerisinginmy

throat.Myheadfeltheavyandtired,andmylungsburned,asthoughIhadbeenunderwater
fortoolongandcouldn’tcomeupforair.

“IfIdowhatyousay,whatguaranteedoIhavethatyou’llkeepyourwordandnotharm

them?”Iraisedmybrows.“Orme.”

“None.Mywordshouldsuffice.”Hiseyeswereprobingmine,challengingme,observing.

Theyremindedmeofahawk—readytocatchhisprey.Thelimousinecametoahalt,butthe
enginecontinuedtowhirrsoftly.Atrafficlight,Iassumed.Peopleandcarsallaroundus.And
yetnoonecouldpeekinside,noonecouldbealertedtothismostbizarresituation.

Thecarbegantomoveagain,rollingslowly,thenpickingupspeed.Inthesilenceofthe

car,Iwatchedhimadjusthistie.Itwasjustatinymovementbutenoughtotellmehewas
gettingannoyedwithme.

“Arentedapartment’swaitingforyouinOregon,”RobertMayfieldsaid.“Tomorrowmy

driverwillpickyouupfromtheundergroundparkinggarageatelevena.m.Don’ttake
anythingwithyouexceptforyourhandbagwiththebook.You’llbeprovidedwitheverything
youneedforyournewlife,yourflighttickets,andyournewpassport.Themoneywillbein
yournewbankaccount.I’llgetintouchwithyouonceyou’reinOregon.I’lldowhateverit
takestokeepyouawayfromJett.Ifyoubreakonerule,yourfriendisthefirstonetogo.”

Histonewasserious.Somethingrosewithininme—despair;hopelessnessatthe

prospectofabandoningJett,myfamilyandSylvie;furythatRobertMayfieldhatedtheideaof
Jettdatingme.Thiswasmylastchancetochangehismind.IfIdidn’ttry,I’dregretit.

“WhydoyouwantmeoutofJett’slife?”Iasked.“WhatifIbreakupwithhimandgive

youthebook?IcouldstillstayinNewYorkbutkeepawayfrom—”

“Aren’tyoulistening?”Hecutmeoff.Istaredathiminshock.“Letmemakeitclearto

you,Brooke.Youhavenochoice.”

Hewipedimaginarylintfromhisslacksbeforecrossinghislegsandleaningback,self-

satisfied.“Whydoesn’tmatter.I’dhatetoseeyousuffermorethannecessary.Yoursisterwas
aprettyhardloss.”Iswalloweddowntheknotinmythroat.Soheknewaboutmyfamilyand
mypast.Nobignews.Nothingtoscaremethere.WhatscaredmewasthefactIdidn’tknow
himandconsequentlydidn’tknowwhathewascapableof.Hepressedabutton.The
passenger’sdooropened,butIdidn’tmove.Didn’tcallforhelp.Neverbeforewasfreedomso
closeandyetsofaraway.

“Thismeetingneverhappened.Ifanywordgetsoutoryoutrytoseekhelp,I’llmakeyou

andallthepeopleinyourlifepay.Don’tmakethemistakeofthinkingyoucanoutwitme
becauseyoucan’t.”

“Iunderstand,”Iwhispered.“Therewon’tbeanyproblems.”
Pleasedwithmyreply,hissmilewidened.“Good.I’mhappywe’vecometoanagreement.

Thismightbehardtobelieveatthispoint,butI’mdoingyouandyourchildafavor.”

Myheartstopped.
Howthehelldidheknowaboutthepregnancy?
TheonlypeopleIhadtalkedwithwereJettandSylviewhoprobablytoldKenny.
“Let’ssayIhavemyownresources,”RobertMayfieldsaid,asifsensingmyshock.

“You’vebeenwatchedeversinceyouenteredJett’slife.”

How?
Andthentheanswerdawnedonme.Emma.HowcouldIforgether?Shewasalways

there,listening,watching.ShehadbroughtJett’sbouquetofrosesandhadprobablyreadthe
cardtuckedinside.AndshehaddatedRobert.ShetoldmesoherselfwhenIcommencedmy
initialpositionwithMayfieldRealties.Shewasmoreinconspicuousthanaprivate
investigator.

“Tomorrow.Elevena.m.sharp.”Hepointedatthedoor.“We’redonefortoday.”He

noddedmeaningfully,waitingformetoleave.Withoutalookback,Iexitedthelimousine.
Withmyheartpoundinginmychestandmymindablurrymess,Islammedthedoorshutand
stoodgluedtothespot.TherealityofwhathappenedhitmesohardIcouldn’tforma
coherentthought.Longafterthelimousinedroveaway,Ididn’tmove.Minutespassed.People
walkedpast,somecursing,somesimplydodgingme.Afewcastcuriousglancesmyway,and
stillIremainedfrozeninplace,lockedintimeandspace—untilsomeonesteppedinfrontof
meandsqueezedmyarmgently.

“Youokay,miss?”
Iraisedmygazetopeerataguy,latefifties,dressedindirtypantsandajacketthathad

seenbetterdays.Aguitardangledonhisback,keptinplacebyafrayedleatherstrap.Inodded
andheraisedaplasticbottle,offeringmewhatlookedlikeorangejuice.Ishookmyheadand
openedmybagtopulloutmywallet,thewayIalwaysdidwhenIsawapersoninneed.

“Ihavenoneedforit,”Isaid,pushingallthebanknotesintohishand.Itwasthetruth.

SoonIwouldliveadifferentlifewithanewidentityandspendmoneyIdidn’tearn.Robert
Mayfieldcouldbuymeanewidentity,buthecouldn’tbuymelove.Hecouldn’tbuyme
happiness.Afamilyoraplacethatfeltlikehome.

“Pleasedon’tkillyourself.”Heheldmyarm,hiswarmhandnotabletopenetratethecold

blanketcoveringmyheart.EventhoughIhadn’tbeenthinkingofcommittingsuicide,IknewI
hadbeenclosetoformingthethought.Soveryclosetoit,becauseIfeltlikejumpingoffacliff.
Stepinfrontofacar.Drowntostopthepicturesofthehappyandfamiliarfacesflickering
beforemyeyes.

IwouldraiseachildonmyownwhileJettwouldn’tstopsearchingforus.Eventuallyhe’d

believeIhadlefthim,orthatweweredead.Iknewwhatdeathbroughtuponpeopleanddidn’t
wantanyonewhocaredaboutmetogothroughsomuchpain.Theguiltwouldkillmeslowly.

Wherelaythedifferencebetweenstartinganewlife—fullofemptinessandloneliness,

knowingthatmyabsencecausedpaintothosewholovedme—orstoppingitrightnowto
entercompletedarkness?AplacewhereIcouldrestandforget,wheresomethinglikea
consciencemightnotexist.

IswallowedhardasIconsideredmyoptions.
Theoutlookofforgettingwaspleasing.Muchmorethananewlifewithhappymemories

hauntingme,remindingmeofallthethingsIhadlost.Livingalifethatwasforceduponme,
ratherthanchosenbyme,wassenseless.Ididn’twanttogothroughthatkindofagony.

“Don’tkillyourself,”herepeated,hispalegrayeyesinterlockingwithmine.“It’snot

worthit.”

“Thatwasn’tentirelymyintention,”Iwhispered,“butthanks.”
“Well,inthatcasenewcannotalwaysreplacetheold.”Heletgoofmyarm.
Ifrowned.DidhethinkIwasinvolvedinalovetriangleandcouldn’tdecide?Iopenedmy

mouthtosetthingsstraightwhenhecutmeoff.“Whateveryoudecide,neverchoosethemost

straightforwardoption.BelievemewhenItellyouthis:theeasiestchoiceisalwaysthewrong
one.Choosethepaththatmattersinthelongterm,thechoicethatwouldneverhurtothers.It
mightseemdifficultatthispoint,buttherightchoiceistheonethattakesthemostcourage.
It’stheonethatseemsimpossibleatfirst.”

Hepressedmymoneyintomypalmsandthenhecuppedmyhandsinhis,theroughness

ofhisfingertipschafingmyskin.

“Please,keepit,”Isaid,weakly.
Heshookhisheadbutdidn’tletgo.“Eventhebestofushavebaddays.Wefall,weclimb.

That’slife.Icanpromiseyou,yourworstdayisneveryourworst.Yourworstday’stheday
yourealizeyougaveuptoosoonandyoucannolongerrectifyyourmistake.”Hescannedmy
face,waitingforhiswordstosinkin.Mythroatwastightfromtheknowledgehewasright
despitenotknowingme.Hewassoclosetothetruth.

“WhatifIhavenochoice?”Iasked.“Whatifthatchoicewastakenfromme?”
“There’salwaysachoice.Maybenotnow.Maybenottomorrow.Butlifeneverstaysthe

same.Soonerorlater,maybeinafewdaysorafewweeks,somethingyouneverthought
possiblewillhappen.That’sthebeautyoffate.”

Inodded,overwhelmedbythefactthatofallthepeoplewhohadwalkedpastme,itwas

thepoorandprobablyhomelessmanwhoshowedcompassionstillexisted.

“You’llbeokay,kid.”Hesmiledgently.“Godwouldnevergiveyouasituationyoudidn’t

possessthestrengthtohandle.Youhaveeverythingyouneedtodealwiththatsituation
withinyou.Theonlythingmissingiscourage.”

“Thankyou,”Iwhispered,meaningeveryword.“Pleasetakethemoney.”Igentlypulled

myhandsawayfromhim.

“No.”Heshookhisheadagain.
“ButIinsist.”
“Thenletmeplayasongforyousoyourgenerositymakessense.”Hesatdownonthe

pavement,backpressedagainstthedirtywallofabuilding,andbegantostrumthechords.I
recognizedthesong.TearsformedinmyeyesasIlistenedinsilencetotheoldman’ssoft
voiceashesangTearsinHeaven.Whenhefinished,IrealizedIknewwhattodo.

“Youhaveagift,”Iwhispered.“Youtouchpeople.”
Withalastsmileathim,Istartedtowalkslowlyasmymindkeptcirclingaroundhis

words.

Weweretworandomstrangers,andyethedecidedtolisten.Evenwhenhehadnoidea

whatIwastalkingabout,hewasright.Icouldn’tdowhatIwanted.Icouldn’tstaywithJettjust
becauseIlovedhimandcouldn’tbeartobewithouthim.Ihadtostopthinkingaboutmyself
andtostartcaringforthesafetyofthosewhomattered.Itwouldbehardtoleavethem
behind,butitwouldalsobeselfishofmenotto.

MaybeRobertMayfieldwasbluffing,butatthispointIcouldn’trisknotbelievinghim.
ItwouldbethehardestdecisionIhadevermade,butitwastherightchoice.Itwouldbe

thechoicethatwouldcomewiththesmallestrisk—abrokenheart.Icoulddealwiththat,butI
wouldn’tcopewithfearandregretkeepingmeawakeatnight,knowingtheirlivesmightbeat
riskbecauseofme.Andifthismanwasright,maybesoonerorlater,hopefullynottoolate,the
tidesoflifemightturninmyfavor.

Chapter 13

THEWALKTOJett’sexpensiveneighborhoodwaslongbutgavemeenoughtimeto

understandwhathadjusthappened.BythetimeIarrivedatJett’sapartment,thesunwaslong
goneandmymindhadsettled,acceptingthatfatehadmademydecisionforme,whichmeant
thiswouldbemylastdaywithJett.

IgreetedtheconciergeinthefoyerandrodetheelevatoruptoJett’spenthouse,mygaze

shyingawayfromthemirror.Icouldn’tbeartolookatmyselfbecausemyimageremindedme
thatsoonIwouldn’tbeBrookeanymore.Ipulledthekeysoutofmyhandbagandletmyselfin.
Fortheumpteenthtime,IwonderedhowJettwouldreactifheknewhisfatherwasstillalive
andthathewasthethreatJettfeared.Wouldhebelieveme?

Feelingtiredanddefeated,Iopenedthedoor,expectinganemptyapartmentsinceJett

spentmuchofhistimeattheofficelately—untilIsawthelightsswitchedon.

“Wherehaveyoubeen?”Jettwasstandinginthedoorway,hishandsburiedinhis

pockets,afrownonhisface.

“IgrabbedacoffeewithSylvie.”IavoidedhisgazeasIkickedoffmyhighheels.“Wehad

agirltalk.YouknowSylvie.Shecouldn’twaittotellmeallaboutherrelationshipwithKenny
andhernewjoboffer,soIstayedalittlelongerthananticipated.”

Ipeeredupathimandinstantlynoticedthedarkshadowsunderhiseyesandthesoft

lineonhisforehead.AsmuchasIwishedtohughim,Icouldn’tbecauseIwasafraidI’dbreak
downintearsifIdid.

Changethetopic.Don’tthinkoftomorrow.Don’tgothere.
“Howdidyourbusinessmeetinggo?”Iaskedcasually.“Ididn’texpectyoutobeback

thisearly.”

“It’sbeendelayed.”Hehesitated.“Natehasdecidedtostaywithusforawhiletohelpme

gooverthedata.Ifwe’relucky,wewon’thavetosellsharesinthecompany.Assoonas
everything’ssortedout,Ihopewe’llhavemoretimeforourselves.”Hewalkedoverand
wrappedhisarmsaroundmywaist,pullingmeagainsthim.

Myheartfeltasthoughitwasbeingrippedapart.Icastmyeyesdownandleanedmy

headagainsthischest,thereminderwewouldnotspendanymoretimetogethertoopainful.

“TodayallIcouldthinkofwasyou.Naked.Inmybed.I’vemissedthat.I’vemissedyou.

Likefuckingcrazy,”hewhisperedandkissedmyneck.

“I’mgratefulmybrother’sstayingbecauseitmakesthingssomucheasier.I’mlooking

forwardtospendingmoretimewithyou,Brooke.”

Icouldn’thelpmyself.Tearsstartedtorolldownmycheeks.Iburiedmyfaceagainsthis

chestinthehopehewouldn’tseethemasIfoughtagainstthetornadothreateningtoripmy
chestapart.Myfingertipsbrushedhisneck.Hearingthesoundofhisvoiceandthesteady
rhythmofhisbreathing,smellinghisscentandfeelingthewarmthofhisbody—wasjusttoo
much.Icouldn’tbearit.

Theyremindedmetoomuchthatinalittlemorethansixteenhours,ourtimewasup.I

swallowedhardtogetridofthebileinmythroat,whichonlymademytearsfallharder.I
couldfeelthefirstwaveofsobsripplingthroughmychest.Ifhekeptgoinglikethat,I’dbreak
down.Icouldn’taffordthat,soIsteppedbackandturnedawayhastily,headingstraightforthe
bathroomasfastasIcouldandlockingthedoorbehindme.Poundingstepsfollowedright
behind.Amomentlater,heknocked.

“Brooke?”Histonesharpenedwithalayerofworry.“Areyouokay?”
Myheartpoundedpainfullyhard,thetinymovementspiercingmelikeknives.Iwiped

thetearsawaywithmysleeveanddrewslow,measuredbreathstocalmmyself.

“I’mfine.”Myvoiceshook.
“DidIsaysomethingwrong?Ididn’tmeantoupsetyou.”
HowcouldItellhimthat,yes,hehaddonesomethingwrongbysayingalltheright

things?

“No.It’sme.”Iinhaledandheldmybreathasmyheartbeatspikedagain.“I’mtired,

emotional,andalittlebitsick.Myhormonesareactingup,whichisnormal.”

Thatpartwastrue.MygynecologisthadtoldmewhenIwenttoseehimtoconfirmthe

pregnancyuponmyreturnfromItaly.

“Wantmetogetyouanything?Maybeorderdinner?”
“No.”Ishookmyheadeventhoughhecouldn’tseeme.“Iwon’tbeabletokeepanything

down.”

God,itwassohardtopretendinfrontofhimbutsomucheasiertoliebehindclosed

doors.I’dneverlethimseehowbrokenIwas.

“I’mgoingtotakeabathandgotobedearly.”Ipausedforhisanswer.Whenitdidn’t

come,Icontinued,“Don’tworryaboutme.Justgivemealittletimealone,Jett.It’sbeenalong
day.”

Wefellsilent,butIknewhelingeredoutside.Inchesseparatedus,andyettheyfeltlike

milesofsand-covereddunesreadytopullusapartifwetriedtoneareachother.Hemightnot
knowmewellenough,buthewasanexpertinreadingbodylanguage.IfIopenedthedoor,I
fearedImightconfess.Ihadtostaystrong,formyself,forhim,forourbaby’ssake.

“Brooke.”Hisvoicewaslikesilkcaressingmysenses.
“Yeah?”Iheldmybreath.
Heletoutasharpbreath.“IknowI’vebeenneglectingyou—us—thosepastfewdays.”

Hishandbrushedoverthedoor.Ormaybehewasleaningagainstit.Icouldn’ttell,butI
imaginedhimoutthere,sensingsomething,worrying,andmyheartbrokejustalittlebit
more.”I’msorryIdidn’tspendasmuchtimewithyouasusual.Ijustdidn’twanttostressyou
outwithmyproblems.”

Myeyesmoistenedagain.IwantedtoassurehimthatIunderstoodbecauseIknewthat

losinghisfatherhadbeenhardonhim,butdidn’t.InsteadIsaid,“Youdon’thavetoexplain.”

“Let’sgooutfordinnertomorrowafterwork.I’llbookusatablewhereveryouwant.You

pick.”

Toolate.
Bytomorrowevening,I’dbeinOregonandJettwouldbewaitingforme,wondering

whereIwas.He’dcallmycell,thenSylvie’s,afterwhichhisworrywouldmagnify.Howlong
wouldhewaitbeforefilingamissingpersonreport?WouldhehireKennyagaintofindme?
Probably,onlythistimetherewouldbenocreditcardpurchasesandnoflightticketstoshow
meboardingaplane.Tearsrandownmyface.Therewouldbemanymoreinafuturethat
seemedblankanddepressingwithouthim.

“Baby?”Jettsaid,jerkingmeoutofmydepressingthoughts.Histonewaspleading,andI

realizedhehadmisinterpretedmysilence.“Iwanttomakeituptoyou.Maybethisweekend.
Nophones.Nowork.Justyouandme,whitebeaches,andgoodfood.”

“I’dlovethat.”Ismiledbitterly,meaningeveryword.Nowwasthetimetotellhimallthe

thingsIwouldn’tgetthechancetosaytohiminthefuture.IthoughtoftheonethingIcould
saywithoutraisinghissuspicion.“Icouldn’twishforabetterboyfriendthanyou,Jett.Thank
youforalwaysbeinghereformeandforlovingmethewayIam.”

Thanksforeverything.
Iwalkedovertothehugecornerbathtubandturnedonthecold-waterstream,and

shruggedoutofmyclothes.

“I’llbeinmyoffice,”Jettsaidsoftly.“Callmeifyouneedanything.”
Iwaiteduntilhewalkedaway.OnlywhenIwascompletelysurehewasgonedidIstep

intothefreezingwater,knowingthatnoteventhecoldcouldnumbthepain.Pullingmyself
underuntilmybodywassubmergedwiththeonlysoundthebeatingofmyheartdrumming
hardinmyears,Iletmytearsflowfreely.

Chapter 14

ICONSIDEREDMYSELFblessed.Itrulydid.Ihadexperiencedlove.Ihadmetthat

someonespecialwhomademyheartflutterand,mostimportantly,reciprocatedmyfeelings.I
hadabestfriendwho’dalwaysbethereforme.Iwasblessed,becauseIhadlived.

Betterloveandlosethanneverloveatall.
Ikepttellingmyselfthateverysinglesecondofeveryhourthatpassed.Sowhywasitso

hardtoletgowhentimedemandedthatwepart?Lifedidn’talwayswarnuswhenwehadto
saygoodbye.Ifweknewwhenitwastimetoleave,maybewe’dmakemoreofaneffortto
spendasmanymomentsaspossiblewiththepeopleweloved.Andtherelaymyproblem—
eventhoughIknewmymomentswerecounted,Icouldn’tdealwithit.

Isatinadarkplace,onanunknownroad,withabsolutelynocluewhereIwasheaded.

DesperationwashedovermeasIrealizedImightneverexperiencethiskindofhappiness
again.I’dnevermeetsomeoneasgreatasJett.KnowingI’dlosehimbroughtouttheworstin
me.ApartofmewantedtowritealettertotellhimhowtrulyhappyIhadbeenwithhim.I
wantedhimtoknowjusthowmuchIhadlookedforwardtoafuturefullofhappiness.Andyet
Icouldn’t.IfJettthoughtIhaddied,thisletterwouldneverbringhimconsolation;itwould
bringhimguilt.Idecidedtodoitthehardway—noletters,nohints,nothingtotracebackto
thisonemoment.

BythetimeJettfinishedupwork,itwaspastmidnight.Apartfromasliverofmoonlight

fallinginthroughthepulledcurtains,thebedroomwasbathedindarkness.Themattress
groanedunderJett’sweight,ashelaydowngently,carefulnottowakeme.Myeyesremained
closed,butIcouldsensehisgazeonme.Hisarmwrappedaroundme,barelytouchingmy
skin,andhiswarmbreathtickledthenapeofmyneck.Eventuallyhisbreathingsloweddown.

Eveninthedarknessoftheroomwithnothingbutthefeelingofhisarmsaroundme,my

mindcontinuedtoseekhim,asifhewasalreadyfaraway.Ilayawakefacingthedigitalwatch.
Witheveryminutethatpassed,witheveryhourthatwentby,mydreadintensified.At3.15
a.m.,JettstirredandIturnedtoregardhissleepingfeatures.Myheartbrokeatthesight.
Carefulnottowakehim,Iletmyfingerstracethecontoursofhisface.ButJetthadalways
beenalightsleeper.Heopenedhiseyesgroggilyandpulledmetohischest.

“Troublesleeping?”
MythroatwassochokedwithemotionIcouldn’treply.Instead,Ijustnodded.There

werenomorewordstosay,somylipstouchedhismouthgently.Itwasjustabriefkiss,but
enoughtowakehimupinstantly.

Ismiled.Itwasabitterkindofsmileasmyfingerstouchedhisnakedchest,marvelingat

thesmoothnessofhisskinandthewarmthseepingintomybody.Ittookhimonlyasecondto
processwhereIwasheading,andthenhishandsslidaroundmyheadasIkissedhimagain.I
thoughtcrushingmylipsagainsthiswouldhelpsubduethepain.Thatit’dbringmereliefby
stealingthatonelastkiss.Insteaditatemeupfromtheinside.Breakingmeapart.

“Ineedyou,”Iwhisperedagainsthislips,andclimbedontopofhim.“Deeply.Whatever

youwish.”

“You’reaskingforit?Inthemiddleofthenight?”Hesoundedunconvinced.Inthe

moonlighthisgreeneyesshimmereddark,everytraceofsleepgone.

“Yes,”Iwhispered.
Ihadbeenwrong.Thepainwasn’tbreakingmyheart;itwaskillingme.Iwantedtohave

itrippedoutofmybody.Fuckedoutofmysystem.Tomorrowhadbecometoday,andIdidn’t
wanttothinkaboutitanymore.

“Iwantitrough,”Isaid.“Iwantyoutofuckmelikeyoudon’tcareaboutme.LikeI’mjust

astranger.”

Theairbetweenuswaschargedwithquestionsunspoken.IcouldfeelJett’shesitation,

hisdoubts,hisconfusion.

“Ican’tdothat.”Hesatupandpushedmeawaygentlybutdefinitely.“Idon’twantto

hurtyou.”

RejectingmewhenIneededitthemostwasthelastthingIexpected.
Iwassofurious,Islappedhim.Nothard,buthardenoughtomakehimlookup.Itried

slappinghimagain,butthistimehecaughtmywrists,pullingmeclosetohim.

“Brooke,no,”hesaid,determined.“I’mnotthatkindofperson.”
Iyankedmyarmsaway,buthedidn’tletgo.
“Ineedyou,Jett.Ineedyourightnow,”Iwhispered.Ibentforwardtokisshimagainbut

hewithdrewwithaconfusedexpressiononhisface.

“BackintheHamptonsyousaidyou’renotintoroughsex.”
“I’vechangedmymind,”Iwhispered.“It’swhatIneednow.Please.Don’tyouseethatI’m

askingyou?Iwantyoutofuckmehard.”Irockedmyhipsagainsthisgroin,notwantingto
giveup.“Please.”Hedidn’tpullback,whichshowedmehisresolutionwasweakening.

Iinchedcloseragaintokisshim,andthistimeherespondedthewayIexpectedhimto.

Heletgoofmyhandandflippedmebackonthebed,positioninghimselfontopofme.His
mouthhitminewithsuchferocity,itknockedalltheairoutofme.Ilookedup,suddenly
scared.Hiseyesshimmeredwithadangerousglint,andtherewasjustthehintofasmileon
hislips.

“Youwantitrough,baby?Ifthat’swhatyouneed,you’llgetit.”Hiskneessqueezed

betweenmylegs,partingthem.“ButI’llhaveitmyway.”

Chapter 15

JETTMAYFIELDWASthefirstonetoreciprocatemyloveandsetmyheartonfire.He

wasmysummerlove,andmyfeelingsforhimwerereal.IknewbecauseIcouldn’tstandthe
thoughtofhimbeingwithsomeoneelse.Mymindkeptseekinghimwheneverhewasn’twith
me,andmyhearttrembledjusthearingthesoundofhisname.Intermingledwithmyloveand
thehappinessIfeltaroundhim,therewassadness—ablackheavysadnesscomingfroma
suddenbutuglyawarenessthatnoteverythinginlifeismeanttolast.Totastehappinessin
piecesandthenhaveittakenfromyou,leavingbehindnothingbutjadedmemoriesthatare
likebullets,tearingyouopen,woundingyou,scatteringyouintoamillionfragments—Iwasn’t
sureIwasreadyforthatjustyet.

Iwasn’tsureifIcouldfaceafuturewithouthim.
Istoodinfrontofthebathroommirrorandstrokedmyhandovermybelly,asifthe

motioncouldprotectmyunbornchildfromtheknowledgethatIwasabouttobreakthetrust
oftheoneIloved.Iwasdoingitforus.Itwasbetterforus.IfheknewwhatIwasabouttodo
today,thatI’dbreakmypromiseandleavehim,he’dtrytostopme.Ijustknew.Icouldn’trisk
anyonehurtinghim.I’dratheritwasmewhoendeduphurt.

Atfivea.m.,Idressedinthebathroom,grabbedmybag,andleft.Ididn’tevenbotherto

takeashowerorputonmakeup.Fuckmyappearance.Thereweremoreimportantthingsto
takecareof.

Itwasanewdawn—adarkdawn—asItookataxitoMayfieldRealtiesandtoldthe

drivertostopablockaway.Hewasn’tthrilledtoletmewalkthedistancebutdidn’targue.I
paidandsteppedoutintothechillymorningair,wrappingmyjacketaroundmeasIheadedin
theoppositedirection.InalittlemorethanfivehoursI’dbedrivingtotheairport.IfIwanted
toinitiatechanges,Ihadtodoitbeforeanyonenoticed.

MaybeRobertMayfieldthoughthecouldremovemefromJett’slife,buthecouldn’ttake

awaymydignityorsenseofjustice.He’dgetthebookhedesperatelywanted,butIhadno
intentionofgivinghimthedisk,andIsurehadnointentionofmakinghimawareofits
existence.

Isteppedintotheself-servicekioskofahotellobbyandjotteddownSylvie’saddresson

aprepaidflat-rateenvelopeandsealedthediskinside.AngeredbytheuglyawarenessthatI
couldnevertellSylviewhatreallyhappened,norincludealetter,Ipaidwiththeonlyprepaid
creditcardIownedandleftthekiosk,hopingtheenvelopewouldarrivesafely;hopingthat
somehowSylviewouldunderstandthesilentmessage.Iknewshe’dfeeltheurgency.She’d
knowwhattodo.Theymightneverfindme,butwithKennybyherside,maybetheycouldstill
unravelthesecretoftheLucazzoneestate.

Leaningagainstthecoldwallofthebuilding,Ifeltbetter.Hopefulalmost.Notaboutmy

future,butaboutthefactthatRobertMayfieldhadn’twon.Iwonderedwhatwouldhappento
thebeautifulItalianmansiononcethelawyerrealizedtheheiresswasgone.Would
AlessandroLucazzonesell?WouldJettstillbeinclinedtobuy?

Withthesunrising,thestreetsbegantofillwithlife.Iwalkedtheshortdistancetomy

officeandletmyselfintothefoyer.ThemorningsecurityguardsexchangedglancesasI
showedthemmyID.

“Busyday,”Imumbledbymeansofexplanation.Iignoredtheirchatterandheadedfor

theelevator,readyforthesecondpartofmyplan.

Ihadeveryintentiontomakemylastdayinmyjobaspainlesstoeveryoneaspossible

—evenifthatinvolvedkeepingpeopleatasafedistanceand,inJett’scase,breakingupwith
him.Itwasanecessity,andtheonlywayhe’dmoveonwithhislifesoonerratherthanlater.If
onlyIcouldfindawaytomakehimbelieveIdidn’tcareabouthim,IknewI’dfeelbetter
knowinghewouldn’tbehurtbythewayI’dsuddenlydisappearedfromhislifeforever.

***

Iwasabouttofinishsortingthroughthepapersforthefirstconferencemeetingand

placingfilesbackinthecabinetwhenIheardJett’svoicedownthehall.

“IsBrookeinside?”
Someoneanswered,andwithinsecondsthedoorwasthrownopenwithoutsomuchasa

knock.Hewasangry,andhemadenosecretofit.

“Whydidyouleave?”
Iremainedsilent.Hemovedaroundthedeskandstoodinfrontofme,armspressed

againstthecabinet,inchesawayfrommyface.Hisimpressivestatureblockingmysight,Ihad
nochoicebuttomeethisgazeandanswerhisquestion.

“Icouldn’tsleep,soIcametoworkearly.”Ipretendedtosearchthroughthefolders,

tryingtofindtheoneIneeded.

“What’swrong?”Hiseyesscannedmeupanddown,noticing,analyzing.Ihadbeen

stupidtothinkJettwouldn’tpickuponmyemotionalundercurrents.

“Nothing.”Ishrugged.“It’snotevenabigdeal.Youwereasleep,andIdidn’twantto

wakeyou.Don’tblowitalloutofproportion.”

Hisvoicedroppedtoawhisper.“DidIhurtyoulastnight?Isthatwhyyou’remad?”
“No.”Ifrowned,thinkingbacktoourlovemakingsession.Hehadbeenroughbutnotto

thepointofhurtingme.“Iwantedit.Remember?”

Hiseyescontinuedtoscanmyface,mybusinesssuit,andthenhenoticedthedark

bruiseonmyarm—theresultofmyunfortunateencounterwithJett’sfather.Ialmoststopped
breathingwhenhegrabbedmywristandhelditup.Ihadseenitthepreviousnightwhile
soakinginthebathtub,buthehadn’t.

“What’sthis?”
Ishrugged.“Ifell.Nobigdeal.”
Hiseyesnarrowedonmeasheconsideredwhethertobelieveme.Somethingflickered

inthem,andIknewIhadtocomeupwithabetterlie.

Damn!
Hewasbeingsuspicious,andIhadneverbeenagoodliar.Iwalkedovertothewindow,

puttingasmuchdistanceaspossiblebetweenus,andturnedaway.Inalittlemorethanhalfan
hourIwasexpectedtogetintoacarandleaveeverythingbehind.Nowwasthetimetorelease
him.

“Thisisn’tworking,Jett.Idon’tthinkit’sagoodideawe’redating.”Thewordsflowedso

fastfrommylips,Icouldbarelythink.Iheldmybreathandbitmyliphardtokeepmyselffrom
lookingathim.Theroomwassoquietmyheartbeatsoundedlikeadrumcountingdownthe
secondsinmyears.

“Whynot?”hefinallyasked.Histonewascold,anytraceofhisloveformegone.I

shudderedandpushedmyhesitationtothebackofmymind.

“WerushedintothisandI—”Myvoicefailedme.Eventhoughweweren’ttouching,I

couldfeelhimallaroundme.Hewasbeautifulandsoveryangry.Thepressurebehindmy
eyesgrewstronger.IloweredmyheadsoIwouldn’tgiveintothemagneticpullurgingmeto
lookathimjustonemoretime.“Ithinkweshouldtakeabreak.”

Heinchedcloser.Hisfingersclaspedaroundmyshoulder,andIhadnochoicebutto

turnandfacehim.Iexpectedanger,sadness,indifference,anythingbut—

Gentleness.
“Whatareyouafraidof,Brooke?”
MyeyesfilledwithunshedtearsbeforeIcouldstopthem.Ididn’tseethisreaction

comingandhadnoideawhattosaytohim.ThatIworriedforeveryone’ssafetybecauseI
wasn’twelcomeinhisfamily?

“MaybeI’mafraidofthefactthatyoumeanmoretomethananyotherpersoneverwill,”

Iwhispered.“I’mnotusedtohavingsuchfeelings.Theyscarethehelloutofme.”

Hisfingerssettledbeneathmychinandpushedlightly,forcingmetomeethisgaze.
“I’mscared,too,”hesaid.“Butthat’snotwhyyou’dbreakup.What’stherealreason?”
Hiswordsdidn’tmanagetosettlethestorminsideme—theymadeitworsebecause

theyremindedmejusthowmuchIbelievedhim.

“MaybeIdon’thaveachoice,”IsaidbeforeIcouldstopmyself.“MaybeIwantto,but

that’snotanoptionforme.”

Hestaredatmeconfused.“Whatthefuckareyoutalkingabout?Wealwayshavea

choice,Brooke.”Ihadhearditallbefore.Everyoneseemedtomentionchoiceslately.Ishould
neverhavestarted,becauseJettwouldn’tunderstand.Noonecould.

“I’mnotafraidoflovingyou,Jett.I’mafraidofwhatitmightmeanforus…andmychild.”

Hiseyesnarrowedonme,andtheglintofangerfrombeforeresurfaced.Iswallowed.“Idon’t
thinkwhatwehaveishealthy.Ijustthink—”Istoppedinmidsentence,foramomentlostin
themagicofhisgreeneyesrimmedbydark,longlashes.“There’snoassuranceinlifethat’ll
last.Iwanttogetawayfromyoubeforewecollide.Justbecauseweweremeanttomeet
doesn’tmeanwe’remeanttolast.”

Hestaredatmewithalookthatsaidhecouldn’tunderstandme,thatIwascrazy.Maybe

Iwascrazytogiveitallup,buthedidn’tknowmydilemma,andhisdrawingatstrawsand
tryingtounderstandwhenIwasrunningoutoftimemademedesperate.

“Damnit,Brooke!”Glowering,hewipedhishandoverhisfaceinfury.Theintensityin

hiseyesmademeflinch.”Ithoughtwehadleftallthosefearsandinsecuritiesbehindus.I
thoughtyouhadlearnedtotrustmethatI’mnotgoinganywhereafterthebaby’sborn—if
that’sevenwhatyou’resoworriedabout.Obviously,Idon’tknow,becauseI’venoideawhat
you’retalkingabout.”Hisshouldersslumped,thetenseexpressiononhiswaygivingawayhis
disappointment.

“I’msorry,”Iwhispered.
Heshookhishead.“No,you’reright.There’snoguaranteeit’lllast.Butthere’sonetruth,

Brooke.AsimplenakedtruththatI’ddoanythingforyou.Doyouknowwhy?BecauseIdon’t
careaboutanyonebutyou.Idon’tcarethatyouhaveissues.Idon’tcarethatyoudon’ttrust
me.Myfeelingsforyouwillneverchange.”

Theheavinessintheairwasoppressing—theseawasabouttocrashuponme.Ismiled

tohidemytears.Hedidn’treturnmysmile,andhisvoicewascoldashespoke.“Thebaby’s
notyours,it’sours.There’snowayI’dletyouraiseheralone.Maybewe’llcollidesomeday,but

youknowwhat?We’llmakeup,becausewhatwehaveisn’tsomethingthatwillcrumble
easily.”

Aknockonthedoor,andEmma’sheadpoppedin.Jett’sexpressionchangedtoanangry

frownatthedisruption.

“MissStewart?Yourmeeting’sabouttostart.”
“Giveusfiveminutes,”hebarked.
“I’llberightthere.”IturnedmyheadfromEmmatoJettandwhispered,“I’msorry.Gotta

go.”

ThedoorclosedbehindEmma.Grabbingmyhandbag,IstoppedandshotJettasmile.

“Let’stalkoverdinner.”

Adinnerthatwillnevertakeplace.
“Okay.”Hehesitated.Mybodyburnedtotouchhimonelasttime.Runmyfingers

throughhishair.KisshimsoI’drememberthetasteofhislipsforever.Instead,Ibitmylip
harduntilIdrewblood,grabbedmyhandbagandafolder,andwalkedpast.Hishandgripped
myarm,stoppingme.

“Brooke?”
Ifrozetothespot,unabletorespond,unabletoturnaroundasanelectricshockran

downmyspine.Therewasnopointinsayinganythingelse.NopointintryingwhenIhad
failed.Hewasn’treleased.Hewouldn’tbeforalongtime.

“Youcan’tbreakupwithme.Iwon’tletithappen,”hewhispered.“Ifyoudon’twantme,I

understand,andyou’refreetogobecauseIwanttoseeyouhappy.ButifyoulovemethewayI
loveyou,Iwon’tletyougo.I’mnotgivinguponus.Ican’tforceyoutolovemejustasyoucan’t
forcemetostoplovingyou.”

Andthenheletmego.Iwalkedoutofthedoor,awayfromhim,awayfromhispromises

andthefutureIhadlookedforwardto.MyfeetcarriedmesofastIbarelyacknowledgedthe
peopleinthecorridorandintheelevator.

Walk.Walk.Walk.Donotthink.Donotfeel.Donotlookback.Justwalk.
NeverinmylifedidIforcemyselfsohardtogetawayfromtheonepersonIlovedthe

most.

Mycheeksweredampwithtears,andIwipedatthemangrily.Lifesucked.Absorbedin

mythoughts,Ididn’tnoticetheguyaroundthecorner—untilIbumpedintohimandhissoda
candroppedtothefloor.

“Whoa.”Nate’sarmwentaroundmywaist,steadyingme.
Hewasstandinginfrontofavendingmachine.Ipickeduphissodacanfromthefloor

andgaveitbacktohim.“Sorry.”

“Areyouokay?”Hepointedatmylip.“You’rebleeding.”
“I’mfine.”Iwipedawaythebloodwiththebackofmyhandandranthetipofmytongue

overmyliptostoptheflow.“Justhavingabadday.That’sall.”

Theexcusecameouteffortlessly,probablybecauseitwasn’tmuchofalie.Iwasn’tjust

havingabadday;Iwashavingthedayfromhell.

AsImethisgazeandsmiled,somethingpassedbetweenus.
“Don’tweall.”Hesmirked.“Wanttotellmeaboutit?”
Ishookmyhead,wishingIcouldtellhim.
“I’mnotsuremybrothertoldyou,butI’mstayingforafewweekstosortouttheissues

myfather’sdeathcaused,”Natesaid.“We’reresearchinganewbrandimage.”

Mybrowsshotup.MayfieldRealtieswashugeandsuccessfulalready.Whywouldanyone

wanttochangeanythingaboutthethat?“What’swrongwiththecompanyasitis?”

Heshotmeaquizzicallookandloweredhisvoice.“Iassumedyoualreadyknewwe’ve

beenintroubleforawhile.Internalchangeshavebeeninitiated.”Heopenedhiscanandtook
asip,hiseyesneverleavingmine.“Jett’sbeenworkingaroundtheclockthepastfewdaysto
savewhat’sleftbeforethemediagetholdofit.We’vebeenlookingintowaystotransferall
ouremployeesandtheirpositionstootherbranches,but—”Heclickedhistongue,leavingthe
restopentointerpretation.

Hetookanothersipandthenpointedatthevendingmachine.Ishookmyhead,

declininghissilentoffer.Toomanythoughtskeptswirlinginsidemyhead:Jettworking
aroundtheclock…newcompany…peoplebeingtransferred.

Hiseyesfocusedonmylips,andIwonderedwhetherIwasstillbleeding.
“Areyousureyoudon’twanttotalkaboutit?”Nate’svoicepulledmeoutofmytrance.I

peeredattheanalogclockabovehishead.Itwasalmostelevena.m.Theredpointerscared
methemost,becausewitheverysecondthatpasseditkeptmakingatickingsoundreminding
meofTNTreadytoblowup.

“Maybeanothertime.”Thewordsstumbledoutallmumbled.“Nate,myconference

meetingisstartinginafewminutes.Doyoumindtakingnotesforme?Justforafewminutes.
Ineedtousetherestroom.Everythingyoumightneedisinthere.”Ipressedmyfolderintohis
hands.

“Noprob.”Hesmiled,thesmoothskinbeneathhiseyescrinklingalittle.“Youcanrepay

melater.”

IpointedatConferenceRoom1,andwewalkedtheshortdistancetogether.Throughthe

glasspartitionIsawmyteamhadalreadygatheredandwerechattinganimatedly.

IsqueezedNate’sarm.“Thanks.”
“Anytime,”hesaid.
Nateenteredandwaved,thensaidsomethingandthemeetingstarted,thevoicesofmy

colleaguesnotabletopenetratethechaosofthoughtsfloodingmymind.Theywerean
effectiveteam,andIwasthankfulfortheopportunitytohaveworkedwiththem.

Withatwistingsensationinthepitofmystomach,Icheckedthatthebookwasstill

insidemyhandbag,justasominousasbefore,andjustascursedforruiningmylife.

Theclockticked.
Itwastime.
Fightingthenauseabubblingupinsideme,Imademywaytotheundergroundparking

garage.Theairwascolddownhereandashiverrandownmyspine,butmymindspunina
feverishtrance,mystomachtwistinglikeanevilsnake.Ireachedthefirstlevelandstopped,
realizingRobertMayfieldhadnevertoldmewheretomeethim.That’swhenIrecognizedthe
guywiththe“IloveNY”T-shirtpeeringfromunderasuitjacket.Hisblondhairwascombed
backinaslickstyle,revealingthesmoothfaceandstonyfeaturesofsomeonewhoIguessed
neversmiled.Whenhenoticedme,hegesturedatablacksedanwithtintedwindows.

IscannedtheareaeventhoughIhadn’treallyexpectedRobertMayfieldtoturnup.
“Getin,”touristguysaid.
MyheartpoundedhardagainstmychestasIslippedintothebackseatandheslammed

thedoorshut,lockingmeinside.Hejumpedintothedriver’sseatandstartedtheengine,but
didn’tdriveoff.

“Doyouhavethebook?”HisEnglishwasperfect,notevenahintofanaccenttosuggest

hehadeverlivedanywherebutinNewYork.Ihadbeenanidiottofallforhistrick,believing
hewasaforeigner.Myglancemethisintherearviewmirror.

“Yeah.”Ireachedintomyhandbagandretrievedwhathewanted,thenhandedittohim.
“Didyoutellanyoneaboutthis?”
Ishookmyhead.
“I’vekeptmypartofthebargain,”Irepliedthroughgrittedteeth.
“Doyouseetheblackleatherbriefcase?”
Itwasatmyfeet—ahugeuglything—thesortyouseeinmovieswithmoneyinit.
“Everythingyouneedisinthere,”hesaid.“Openit.”
Iliftedit.Itwasheavyandlocked,andsomethingIdidn’twanttotouch.“Idon’tknow

thenumbercombination.”

“PutinthezipcodeoftheEmpireStateBuilding.”Hesmiled,self-assured,probably

thinkingIwouldn’tknowthezipcodesoftheonlyfivebuildingsthatwerelargeenoughto
havetheirowncodes.

Myjawjuttedup.“Thatwouldbe10118.”Itypedinthenumber,andthecaseopened

withaclick.RobertMayfieldhadn’tlied.Stackedinsideweredocumentsandanewpassport,
aswellascashandafewcreditcards.IopenedthepassportandstaredatthephotographI
hadprovidedtogetmystaffIDcard.ThenamereadCarolLauraHarley.

Wasthatsupposedtobemynewname?Iscannedtherest.Evenmybirthdateand

birthplaceweredifferent.InmynewidentityIwastwoyearsyoungerandborninOregon.I
turnedthepassportaround.Itlookedoldandgenuine,andthecornerswereslightlyflakedas
thoughitusedtobelongtosomeoneelseandmypicturehadsomehowbeeninsertedinside.
RobertMayfieldwasn’tthecleanandgenuineguyeveryonemadehimouttobe.

Judgingfromthedriver’simpatientglance,wewereonaschedule.Iputthepassport

awayandfoldedmyhandsinmylap,unsurewhattodo.Thedriverkeptwatchingme,andfor
asecondIthoughtIdetectedpityinhisexpression.MaybehisjobwasmoredemandingthanI
thought.BeingRobertMayfield’sdriverprobablyalsoincludedthedutyofbeatingthecrap
outofpeople—orworse.

Don’tgothere.Don’teventhinkwhatthisguycoulddotoyou.
“Ready?”heasked.“Yourflightleavessoon.”
“Yeah.”Ibuckleduptheseatbelt.Hestartedtheengineandpulledoutoftheparkinglot.
That’sit,Stewart.Saygoodbyetoyourlife.
FromtheperipheryofmyeyeIcaughtadarkblurheadingtowardus.Iturnedbuttoo

late.Thecarhitussidewayswithaloudthud.Myheadbangedagainstthewindow.Inthe
samemomenttheseatbelttightenedacrossmychest,crushingalltheairoutofmylungs.

Itallhappenedtoofast.Ipeeredaroundme,tooshockedtofullygraspthesituation,

whenthefrontdoorwasyankedopen.Handspulledoutthedriver,andastifledgunshot
echoed.Ifroze,unsurewhethertojumpoutofthecarorhide.Inthetwosecondsittookmeto
decideaguyslumpedintothedriver’sseat.Oureyesconnectedintherearviewmirror.Inhis
oversizedsweaterandrippedjeans,hedidn’tlooklikeanyoneRobertMayfieldwouldemploy.

Isnorted.Seriously?Iwasbeingcar-jacked?Iopenedmymouthtoscreamforhelpwhen

thefrontpassengerdooropenedandaguyjumpedintothepassengerseat,pointingagun
withasilenceratme.Iwhimpered,butthesoundremainedtrappedinmythroat.

“Wegother,”hesaidslowlyintohisphone.

Myheartbegantoraceagainstmyribcageattherealizationthiswasn’tarandomcar-

jacking,oranaccident.Theywereafterme.Judgingfromtheguy’ssmuggrin,theyhad
plannedthismove.

PART 2

PROLOGUE

Jett

ITALLSEEMEDlikeamemory,adream,hardtograspandtoexplain,andsodifficultfor

hertoaccept,asifshecouldn’tallowhappinesstohappentoher.Rightfromthestart,Iknew
Brookewouldhavetroubletrustingme.Butbreakingupwithmewhenthingsweregoingwell
madenosense.

ForthepastfewhoursIhadbeentryingtofocusonthespreadsheetsonmycomputer

screen.Atsomepointtheyhadbecomenothingbutabigsmudgeofunrelatednumbers
becausemymindkeptcirclingaroundthethoughtthatBrookewashidingsomething.Ihad
seenitinherface,hearditinhervoice.Shewasn’taparticularlygoodliar.Infact,shecouldn’t
lieifherlifedependedonit.Shemightfoolthepeoplearoundher,butshecouldn’tfoolme,
andIhadeveryintentionofmakingitcleartonightatdinner.I’dputastoptohernonsensical
fearsbecauseshewasmywoman,andifthatmeantliterallyforcinghertositdownandtalk,
thensobeit.

“Pleasetakeaseat,sir.Mr.Mayfieldwillbewithyoushortly,”oneofmyassistantssaid

toaboardmemberinthehall.“Wouldyoulikeacupofcoffee?”

IgloweredandwishedIhadclosedthedamndoorandpretendedIwasn’tavailable

insteadofhavingtodealwithyetanotherclientwhowasafraidhe’dlosehismoneyoncethe
sharescrashedandburned.Eversincethenewsbrokeaboutmyfather’sdeath,peoplehad
startedtoquestionthecredibilityofthecompany,asthoughithadn’tbeenIwho’dbroughtin
mostofthemajordealseversinceIjoinedMayfieldRealties.

InthepastfewweeksIhadbeenworkingonsettingupmyowncompany.Ihadinvested

everythingIhad—mymoney,myapartments,mysharesinMayfieldRealties—andwasready
tostarttransferringthestaffIwantedonboardwhenaroutinecheckcamebackwith
devastatingnewsthatcouldcostmeboththenewbusinessventureandmycredibility.
Infusingconfidenceintothenewcompanyandmyabilitiestobuildanempireawayfrommy
father’sinfluencewouldhavebeenaneasytask,wereitnotforthefiftymilliondollars
missingfromtheMayfieldRealtiesaccounts.

Isqueezedmyeyesshutandrubbedmyforeheadtogetridofthepressurebuilding

insidemyhead.Thelastthingweneededwasboardmembersandshareholderspanicking
anddemandingtoseethefinancialreports.Icouldn’tmakethebookspublicuntilIfiguredout
whatwashappening.Thespreadsheetsonmyscreenweresupposedtoshedlightonwhere
themoneyhaddisappeared,onlyIcouldn’tfocuswithBrookeoccupyingmymind.

“Mr.Mayfield?You—”Myreceptionist’svoiceechoedthroughtheintercom.Ipressed

theresponsebuttontocutheroff.

“Sendhimin.”
“Rightaway,sir.”
Aknockonthedoor,andamaninhisfiftiesentered.Oneoftheassistantsplacedafile

onmydeskandthenclosedthedoorbehindus.

“Takeaseat.”Ipointedattheseatoppositefrommeandreadthenameonthefile:

ClarenceHolton

Thenamesoundedoddlyfamiliar.Iponderedforamoment,andthenithitme.Ihad

readthesamenameonthehitlistintheblackbook.TherehadbeenaHolton,nodoubtabout

it.Ijustcouldn’trememberthefirstname.

Mygazebrushedhissalt-and-pepperhairandtannedfacebeforesettlingonthesleeves

ofhistailoredsuit.Myfatherhadtoldmethatallmembersoftheeliteclubworespecial
cufflinkstorecognizeeachother.Theyweresilverroundbuttonsengravedwithasymbolthat
lookedlikeleavesgrowingovercirclesandendedinasharp“V”-splittailintheformofa
lizard’stongue—thesymbolofparasiticanimalisticpowergrowingoverphysicalmatter.

“Thankyouforseeingme,”Holtonsaid.Heliftedhishands,thencrossedthemonthe

desk.Mygazefellonthecuffs.TheyweresmallerthanIremembered,butthespittingimageof
thosemyfathershowedme.

Ilookedintohiseyes,myfaceastonymask.
“I’mabusyman.”Myvoicebetrayedamixtureofboredomandannoyance—awinning

combinationinthebusinessworld.ItwasthekindofvoiceIhadlearnedtouseduringmy
timeinagang;thekindofvoicethatalwaysearnedrespectandletpeopleknowtheycouldn’t
messwithme.

“InevergotthechancetotellyouhowsorryIamaboutyourfather’sdemise.”
“Don’tworryaboutit.”Idrewasharpbreathandletitoutslowly—anotheroneofmy

tacticstosignaltogettothepoint.Thespreadsheetswerewaiting,andthentherewasalso
mytinyproblemwithBrooke.Ihadnotimeforsmalltalk,andparticularlynotwithsomeone
likeHolton.

“YourfatherandIwereveryclose,”Holtonsaid.“Nowthathe’snolongerwithusand

you’reincharge,Ihopewe’llbecomefriends.”

Thewayhesaidtheword“friends”mademerecoilwithdisgust.Ihadnointentionof

beinghisfriend,notevenanacquaintance.

“I’llthinkaboutit,”Isaid.“Ifthere’snothingelse—”Theinvitationtoleavehungheavy

intheair.Iknewhecouldfeelitbythewayhiseyesnarrowedabit,whichhedownplayed
withlaughter.

“Likefather,likeson.Triadmagazine’shavingitsannualSeptemberissueparty.”He

raisedabrowmeaningfully,likeIwassupposedtoknowwhatthehellhewastalkingabout.
WhenIremainedsilent,hecontinued,“We’dlovetohaveyouasaguestofhonor.You’re
single,asfarastheworldknows.Plentyofattractivemodelswillbeattending.Maybeonewill
catchyoureye.”

“Ithoughtyouwereamagazine,notanescortservice.”
Mystatementcaughthimoff-guard.Hiseyesshimmeredwithannoyance,andinthat

instanceIrealizedClarenceHoltonwasn’therebecausehewasworriedaboutthecompanyor
hisshares;hehadbeeninstructedtorecruitme.Maybemyfatherhadlefttheclub,butHolton
wasstillanactivemember.

“I’llthinkaboutit,”Isaid,standing.Hefollowedsuit,andIaccompaniedhimtothedoor.

Forobviousreasons,Icouldn’tkickhisassoutofmyoffice.Theshareholderscouldn’tsellor
theshareswouldplummettoanall-timelow.Hisconnectionstothemediapreventedme
frommakingrashdecisions.AndIhatedit,becauseitfeltasthoughIsupportedhisdarkand
twistedsecretsandlifestyle.

“Thanksforstoppingby.”Iheldthedooropenandgesturedforanassistantto

accompanyhimtothelobby.

“Onemorething,Jett.”Heturnedtofaceme,hisfaceanuglymaskofpretense.“Please

stopby.You’llenjoyit.”

IclosedthedoorbeforeIsmashedhisfacein.Forthehundredthtimeasurgeofanger

pulsedthroughmeastowhymyfatherhadbroughtthismessuponus.Ishouldn’thave
refusedtotalktohimbeforehedied.IfIhadlistenedtowhathehadtosay,maybeI’dknow
whatwasgoingonandfigureawayout.

Takingadeepbreath,Isatinmychairandretrievedthespreadsheetfiles.Ihadtoo

muchonmyplate,andIcouldn’taffordanotherdistraction.Thecompanyandmyrelationship
withBrookecamefirst.I’ddealwiththeclublater.

***

Brookewaslateandaworkaholic.Iwouldn’thavebeensurprisedifshehadforgotten

aboutourdate.Myphonecradledbetweenmyshoulderandmyear,Iwaitedforhertopickup
hercellphone.Thelinewentstraighttovoicemail—likeithadforthelastfewhours.I
should’vecheckedonherafterherconference,butshareholdercallskepttricklinginandIhad
notime.Besides,Ifiguredshe’dbebusyandwe’dtalkoverdinneranyway.

“Fuck.”Islammedmyphoneonmydeskandturnedtolookoutthewindow.Clearlyshe

waspissed,andIhadnoideawhy.I’dprobablygonetoofarbytellinghershecouldn’tbreak
upwithme.Brookedidn’tliketobetoldwhatshecouldorcouldn’tdo.Butdamnit!The
womanhadissues.

“CanIgetyouanythingbeforeIheadhome?”Emmaaskedfromthedoorway.Iturned,

realizingIhadn’tevenheardherwalkin.Shewasdressedinafittedtrenchcoatandwas
holdingabriefcaseinonehand.Ahandbagdangledfromtheotherarm.Iwonderedhowmuch
theyhadcosther.Myfatherhadn’tbeenknownforhisgenerositywithhismistresses.Maybe
hehadbeenmoresmittenwiththisonethantherest,eventhoughtheyallsurelookedthe
same,albeittheyweregettingyoungerwitheachnewconquest.

“No.Youcango,”Isaid.“Onsecondthought,haveyouseenBrooke?”
“Sheleftduringhermeeting.Ihaven’tseenhersince.”
Ifrowned.“Whichmeeting?”
“Theonethatstartedatelevena.m.Shedidn’treturnfortheafternoonacquisitions

talks.Yourbrotherjumpedin.”Shesmiled.“Wantmetocallhim?Hemightstillbearound.”

“I’lldoit,”Isaidtogethertoleave.EvenifIcalledNate,heprobablywouldn’tknowmore

thanIdid.

Emma’sgazelingeredonmeasifshewantedtosaysomethingelse,andthenshesettled

on,“Haveagoodweekend.”

Imumbleda“yeah,haveagoodone,too”andturnedmyattentionbacktomycellphone.

Aftersheclosedthedoorbehindher,Isankinmychair,myfingerstappingonthehugedesk
inannoyanceasIrecalledmyconversationwithBrooke.IwassureI’dheardhercorrectly
whensheagreedtotalkoverdinner.Whywouldshedothatandthenleavewithouttelling
me?Ialwaysthoughtofherasresponsible,whichmademeassumewhateverissuesshehad
wouldn’tencouragehertorunfromme.Itwasn’tlikeher.OrmaybeIdidn’tknowheraswell
asIthoughtIdid.

At7:30p.m.andcountlesscallslater,Irealizedshewasn’tgoingtopickup,andIdialed

Sylvie’snumber.Thelinerangafewtimesbeforeshereplied.

“Where’sBrooke?”Iaskedbymeansofintroduction.Thetelevisionwasblastinginthe

background.Abriefpauseensued,duringwhichsheloweredthevolume.

“Jett?”Shesoundedsurprised,probablynotexpectingtohearfromme.“Isawher

yesterday.”Shehesitated.“Iseverythingokaybetweenyouguys?”

Sylvieprobablyknewweweren’tokay,butIwasn’treadytogointothat.
“We’regood.Shetoldmeyoumet,”Isaid.“Apparentlysheleftworkearly,andIthought

shemightbewithyou.Weweresupposedtomeetforanearlydinner.IgotusatableatLe
Bernardin.”

“Wow.Thatplaceisbookedmonthsinadvance.WishIcouldcomealong.”Sylvieletout

asighofrelief.“I’msogladthingsworkedout.Iwasworriedshemightbetooscaredtotell
you.”

Tellmewhat?Ifrowned,realizingIwasmissingapartofthepicture.Brookehadn’tbeen

particularlytalkativethenightbefore.Infact,Ihadneverseenhersoquiet.Thefollowing
morningshehadbeenevenmorecryptic.

“Sowhatdoyouthink?”sheasked.
“Aboutwhat?”Iaskedcautiously.
“AbouthowIfoundthebookwiththedisktuckedinsidemyhandbag,”shesaid.Ifroze.

“Iswearitwasanaccident,butI’mtakingtheblameeventhoughBrooke’sadamantsheput
theminsidemybag.Don’tlistentoher,though.”Shelaughed.

“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?”IrubbedmytemplesasItriedtomakesenseof

herdrivel.“Whatbook?”

Thelineremainedsilentforamoment.
“Shedidn’ttellyou,didshe?”Sylviewhisperedeventually.“Oh,shit.”Thelinewentdead.

Withoutasecondthought,Iredialedhernumberbecausenoonehunguponme.Thistime
Sylviepickeduponthefirstring.

“Sorry,Jett.Igotdisconnected.Badsignal.”Shelaughed.Whatwasitwithpeopleand

laughingwhentheywerelying?“So,Brooke’snotthere?”

Ignoringherquestion,Idecidednottobeataroundthebush.“Arewetalkingaboutthe

samebookanddiskthatwerestoleninBellagio?”

“Yep.Unfortunatelyorfortunately,dependingonthewayyouseeit.Theywerenot

stolen,just—”shepaused“—misplaced.”

ItookadeepbreathandletitoutslowlyasIsortedthroughmythoughts.
“Wherearetheynow,Sylvie?”
“WithBrooke,ofcourse,”shesaid,andthenshestartedtochataway.Herwordsflewso

fastitfeltlikeasledgehammerwaspoundinginsidemyhead.“Honestly,Ithoughtshehad
toldyoualready.Shewantedtodoitlastnightbecausesheknewyou’dbeangryandshe
wantedtogetitoffherchest.”

“Whoa,slowdown.”Ipinchedthebridgeofmynose.“First,whydidBrookeassumeI’d

beangry?That’scrazy.”

“Idon’tknow.Maybebecauseyoucouldblameherforyourfather’sdeath?”Shemade

thequestionsoundlikeastatement.

“Bullshit.”IwassoangryIfeltlikeIcouldhitawall.“I’dneverblameherforanything.”
“Brooketoldmehowguiltyyoufeelaboutyourfather’sdeath.Shethinksthatsincethe

bookwasneverstolen,shemighthavecausedhisdeath.”

“Whatthefuck?”Forsomeonesoclever,Brooke’sreasoningsucked.“That’sthemost

fucked-upthingI’veeverheard.SheknowsRobertandIneverhadacloserelationship.I
stoppedgrievingaboutmyfatheraweekago.”RightafterIfoundoutaboutthemissingfifty

milliondollars.

“Right.Thewayyousayitmakesitallsoundreallystupid.Brookewasconvincedyou

blamedyourself.”

“Ido.”Myvoicedroppedtoawhisper.“Butfordifferentreasonsthanyouthink.”Istood

andbeganpacingtheroomupanddown,myangercoursingthroughme.“Look,I’mworried
aboutthecompany.I’vekeptusfromdrowningforyears,butmyfather’slegacyisahuge
financialholethatcouldswallowhalfNewYorkCity.Thebooksdon’tmakesense,andIcan’t
tellanyoneaboutitwithoutriskingthesharestakingadive.Iknowyouhaveabusiness
degree,soyoucanimaginewhatthatwouldmean.”Myglancefellontheclockonthewall.“It
doesn’tmatternow.IneedtotalktoBrooke.Doyouhaveanideawhereshemightbe?Coffee
shopsshefrequents?I’mnotcomfortablewithherbeingalone.Notwhenshehasthatdamn
bookandshe’sinaconflictedstateofmindthinkingI’mtheenemy.”

“Haveyoutriedcallingher?”
“Yeah.”Icringedinwardly,notstatingtheobvious.“It’sswitchedoff.Iwouldn’thave

calledyouifitwasn’t.”

“Switchedoffasin‘youcan’treachherbecauseshe’sblockingyourcalls’orswitchedoff

asin‘switchedoff’?”sheasked.

“Seriously?”
“Sorry.”Sylviecontinuedinherannoying“sorryforevenasking”voice.“Ijustcan’t

believeshewouldswitchoffhercell.Sheneverdoes.Maybethebattery’sdeadorsheleftit
somewhere.Didyouguyshaveafight?”

“Sortof.”Ibreathedout.“But,likeIsaid,theonlythingthatmattersisfindingher.”
“Iknowacoupleofplacesshecouldbe.Areyouatwork?”
Finally.
“Yeah.”
“I’llbethereintwentyminutes,”shesaid.“Bytheway,Jett,I’mreallysorryaboutyour

father.Notjustbecausehe’sdead,butalso…youknow…”Shetrailedoff.

“Thanks.”
Ihungupandlookedoutthewindowatthelastraysofthesettingsuncoloringthesky

indarkcopper.Ididn’tlikethefactthatBrookehadn’ttoldmeaboutthebook.Icoulddeal
withthefactthatshehadtriedtobreakupwithmebecauseIcouldseeherpossible
motivations.Maybeshethoughtshewasprotectingme;maybeevenprotectingherselffrom
whatevershethoughtI’dsaytoher.Icoulddealwiththat,butIcouldn’tdealwiththefactthat
shekeptsecretsfrommethatmightriskherlife.

Ipeeredatmycellphoneforthehundredthtime.Thewholestorysoundedtoofar-

fetched.MygutfeelingtoldmeIwasmissingsomething.EventhoughBrookedidn’ttrustme,
shehadpromisedshe’dstay,sowhatmadeherchangehermind?

Speed-dialingtheonepersonIknewwouldneverfailme,Ipressedthecelltomyearand

whispered,“Kenny,IneedyoutotrackdownBrooke’sphonerightnow.Ineedtoknowwhere
sheisandwho’swithher.”

“Stalkinghermuch?”Kennylaughed.“Yougotit.”

Chapter 16

Brooke

SOMEONESLAPPINGMEwasthefirstsensationIhaduponwakingup.Thesecondwas

theoverpoweringsmellofdecayandexcrement.Bileroseinmythroatandmystomach
turned,urgingmetovomit.Ibitmytonguehardtofightitandtriedtoprymyeyesopen,but
everythingaroundmeremaineddark.Atsomepointachillmusthavecreptintomylimbs
becausemylegsandarmsfeltnumb,andIcouldn’tstopshivering.Iwassocold,itfeltasifI
hadbeenshiveringforalongtimeinthedarknesswhereIhadresided.

Anotherslap—thistimeitwassohardIknewitwasacrossmyface.Apangofanger

flickeredtolifeinsideme,givingmeenoughstrengthtostirfrommyuncomfortableposition.
Theleftsideofmyfacetingledandburned,asifsomeonehadusedawhiponme.Ipriedmy
eyesopengroggily,andastrangledgaspescapedmythroat.ThecoldsensationIhadassumed
wasinsidemeactuallycamefromthecementfloorunderneathme,penetratingmybusiness
suit.Throughthehazycurtainbeforemyeyes,thepicturebeforemedidn’tmakemuchsense.
Thewholeroomseemedcloudyandfilledwithlightmistthatwasspinningsofastittookmy
eyesseveralsecondstoadjust,butIcouldsmelltheputrid,sickeninglysweetair.

Sittingup,Itriedtokneelandstumbledforward.Mypalmscaughtmyfall,andIrealized

bothhandswereboundinfrontofmeinsomekindofprayingposition.Iwaiteduntilthe
spinningslowedtoabearablelevelandopenedmyeyesagaintotakeinmysurroundings.

Iwasinaroomthesizeofacellwithdirtygraywallsandanakedlightbulbhanging

fromthelowceiling.ThefloorwascoldandshowedbrownspotsIassumedweredrieddirt
andGodknowswhat.Behindmewasadirtymattresswithyetmorebrownishstains.Myhead
hurtlikeabitch,butthatwasn’tmyprimaryconcern.AllIrememberedwasthecar-jacking,
RobertMayfield’sdriverbeingshot,andaguypointinghisgunintomyface.Anotherguygot
intothebackseatandpressedaclothagainstmymouth,thesickeningsweetsmellof
chloroformstillembeddedinmymind.Nothingafterthat.

WherewasI?Whathadhappened?
“Good.You’reawake,”someonesaid.Hisvoicewasfamiliar.Iturnedtowardthedoor

andnarrowedmyeyestofocusonhisheight,age,oranythingImightcatchthroughmy
blurredvisionandusetohelpmeidentifyhimlater.

Hewalkedin,andthedoorclosedbehindhim.Asheinchedtowardme,hisfeatures

becameclearer.ItwasonlywhenhesquattedthatIrecognizedhim.

Yearshadchangedhisfaceandbody.Hehadputonweight.Hisnosehadbeenbroken

andtherewerescarsonhischeekandonhislefteyebrow,buttheresemblancewasuncanny.
Itwasthefacethatstillhauntedmydreams.

“Danny?”Myquestionwasbarelymorethanahiss,ormaybeIcouldn’thearmyown

voicethroughthedrumminginmyears.MyheartpoundedsohardagainstmychestIwas
surehecouldhearit.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”

“I’mworking,that’swhat’shappening.”Hisvoicewasnonchalant,unaffected,lightly

mocking.Helickedhislipsashisdarkbrowneyesassessedme.

SeeinghimbroughtbackthememoriesIhadbeentryingtoburyformorethanten

years:thetimemysisterfellinlovewithhim,thedaysaftershedied,andthewayhesmiled
whenhewasallowedtowalkfree.Dannymusthaveseenmyshockandfeltmythoughts
becausehestartedtosmile,andashiverrandownmyspine.

“YouthoughtIforgotthetroublesyoucausedme?”Histonehadawarningundertoneto

it.“Youreallythoughtyoucouldgetaway?”

Istaredathim,barelyabletoswallowthebileinmythroat.Mymindwaschaos,

completelyoverwhelmedbyhispresence.IthoughtIhadputenoughdistancebetweenus,
bothphysicallyandemotionally.Ofallthepeopleintheworld,howcouldImeetDannyand
underthosecircumstances?Mybodywasburningwithrepulsionandhate.Somuchhateand
disgust.Inspiteofthecold,Iwasburninginside—burningsohotIwantedtopushaside
anythingthatstoodinmywayofhurtinghim.Iwantedtoclawathisfaceandeyes.Iwanted
toseehimbleed,likeJennahadbled—slowlyandwithnocompassion.

“YouseemsurprisedIstillrememberJenna,”hesaid.“It’snoteasytoforgetaprettygirl

likeher.Shewasagoldmine.”

“Yousonofabitch,youkilledher,”Ispatout.Ipusheduponmyelbowtokickhim,

smashhisfacein,buttheropeskeptmeboundinplace.Angrily,Ispatinhisface.“IwishI
couldkillyou.”

“I’lladmitIdeservedthat.”Hewipedhisface,amused.“Butit’snotmyfaultshewas

weakandtookmorethanshecouldhandle.”

“Youhookedheronyourshit,”Iwhispered.Jennawasdruggedthatfatefulnight,butthe

coronerreportclearlystatedshediedofinternalbleeding,notofanoverdose.“Youshared
her,youpieceoffilth.Youpassedheralonglikemerchandise.”

“Businessisbusiness.Besides,it’sinthepastnow,isn’tit?”Heshrugged.“Forwhatit’s

worth,Ihavetothankyou.Withoutyou,I’dneverhavemetyoursister.Iwouldn’thave
receivedgoodmoneyforagoodtime.Foroldtime’ssake,I’llmakeyouagift,Brooke.”

Iflinchedathearingmynamerolloffhistongue.Heleanedforward,andhisvoice

droppedtoawhisperdrippingwithfakesecrecy.“Doyouwanttoknowwhatitis?”

“Gofuckyourself.Idon’twantanythingfromyou.”
Hesmiledagain,onlythistimehisexpressionbetrayedhisfeelings.Mywordshad

displeasedhim.Itriedtomoveafewinchesback,butitwastoolate.HemovedsofastIbarely
hadtimetoblinkorflinch.HegrabbedmyboundarmsandtwistedwithsuchforceIfeared
myboneswouldbreak.Painshotthroughme,andIwincedashisotherhandforcedmychin
uphard.

“Idon’tusuallytakesecondhandsbutontheoffchanceyou’reluckyandmakeitout

alive,I’llmakeanexception.I’llevenbegenerousandgrantyourelease.”

“I’dratherdiethan—”
Hetwistedmyarmagain.Mywordsdiedinmythroatasmyvisionblurredfromthe

excruciatingpainshootingthroughmyshoulderandspine.

“Whenhe’sdonewithyou,”Dannywhispered,“you’llwishIwereyourfirst.”Heletgoof

me,andIstumbledforward,tumblingtothefloor.Iturnedwarily,watchinghiseverymove.
“I’llgiveyouagoodfuck,Brooke.Oneyou’llneverforget.Iwillfuckyourbrainsharduntilyou
break—justlikeIdidwithyoursister.”

“You’resick.”Ifoughttosortthroughmythoughts,pickingoutallthethingsIwantedto

saytohim,butmyhateblindedme,renderingmeunabletospeak.

“Savethatfortheonewhowantsyoufirst.”
Hewalkedtothedoorandknocked,thenturnedbacktomeashewaited.Hissmilewas

gone,andIrealizedhiseyesshimmeredwithpityashestaredmedown.

“Idon’tseewhytheywantedyou.You’refartooold,”hesaid.“Icanonlyimaginethatit’s

eitherapersonalpreference,ortheywantthesisteroftheonetheyhad.”

Footstepsechoedinthecorridoroutsidethedoor.
“Whatdoyoumean?”Iasked,hiswordsswirlinginmymind.
“Areyoureallythisstupid?”hemockedme.Hislipscurledupwardandalltracesofpity

disappeared.“IwaspaidwelltoprovideJenna,andtheywereveryhappywithher.Evenif
you’dtestifiedagainstme,you’dneverhavewon.Peopleappreciatemyservices.Orhowelse
doyouthinkIwalkedoutinnocent?Thinkaboutit.”

Thedooropened,andDannyleftwithoutsomuchasalookback.Thenthedoorclosed

again,andIwasaloneintheroomwithhisvoiceringinginmyhead.Mymindrecalledthe
eventsafterJenna’sdeathandventuredtothemanwholetDannywalkfree.

Dannyluredmysisterintoaworldofdrugsandsoldhertoothersforsex.Ihadknown

thatforalongtime;whatIneverunderstoodwaswhyajudgewouldlethimgofree.Icould
onlyimaginethereasonnow.IthadnotbeenDanny’scharmsorthewayhehadliedthat
swayedthejudgeinhisfavor.Itwasprobablythejudge’spersonalinterestinJennaorhim
playingapartinwhathappenedtoher.Iwasreadytobetonthelatter.

Chapter 17

THELIGHTBULBabovemyheadcastaglaringlightonthedirtyfloorandtheropes

aroundmywrists.Thestale,putridscentlingeredintheair.Atsomepointmysenseofsmell
gotusedtoit,andIdaredtodrawdeeperbreaths.Ididn’tknowwhenIfellasleep,butthatwas
allIwanted.Notthinking.Notfeeling.Justsleeping—untilIcouldforgetwhereIwasandwhat
I’dheard.Evenmynightmareswerebetterthanreality.Wakingwaslikefallingstraightinto
hellwithnoescape,wherethepainfromthetightropescuttingintomyskinprovidedmore
reliefthandiscomfort.

“Youshoulddealwithit,youknow?”afemalevoicewhispered.Ispunslowlyinacircle

toscanmysurroundings.Therewerenowindows—justwallsandonecloseddoor,behind
whichDannyhaddisappeared.Myonlyescaperoutewasthatdoor,onlymyropesweretoo
shorttoreachit.AshudderrandownmyspineasIrealizednobodybutIwasintheroom.Was
Igoingcrazy?

“Hey,I’mtalkingtoyou,”thesamevoicesaid.Iscannedtheroomagain,andthistime

myglancefellonasmallventinthewallImust’vemissedbefore.Paleskinshimmered
throughthegrids,buttheholesweretoosmalltoseebehind.Craningmynecktogetabetter
look,Iignoredthenauseainthepitofmystomachandwalkedafewstepsforward.Asif
sensingmycuriosity,whoeverwasontheothersideshiftedandsqueezedtheirfingertips
throughtheopenings.Thenailswerelonganddirty,anddefinitelybelongedtoafemale.“I’m
intheroomnexttoyours.Canyouwalkover?”

“No.”Myeyesremainedfixedonthevent.Thefingersdisappeared,andfinallyIcould

seetheeyesandlipsofawoman.Icouldn’ttellherage,butfromthesoundofhervoice,she
wasyoung,maybeyoungerthanIwas.“I’mbound.”Iliftedmyhandstoshowher.

Sheletoutagroan.“Youneedtostopcrying,Brooke.”
“Howdoyouknow—”
“Yourname?Theymentioneditoutside,”shesaid.“Andyouneedtostopsleeping.”
“Why?”
“Becauseyoumakeiteasyforthemtoinjectyouwithdrugs,andyouwon’tevennotice.

Trustme,you’llwanttokeepcontroloveryourbody.”

“Whoareyou?”Icrawledclosertotheventasfarastheropearoundmywristallowed

untilIwassixfeetawayfromtheopening.Upclose,Icouldseeherfacemoreclearly.

“I’mLiz.Andbeforeyouask,Idon’tknowwhereweare.”Shewasslightlychubbyandin

herlateteens—maybearoundseventeenoreighteenyearsold,withablondebobandbangs.
Evenwiththeventobstructingmyview,Icouldseejusthowprettyshewas.Anormalgirl—
wereitnotforthecakeddirtonherface.IheldmybreathasIrealizeditprobablywasn’tdirt
—morelikedriedblood.

“Howlonghaveyoubeeninthere?”
“Almostthreemonths.Istoppedcountingawhileback.”Shesmilednervously,buther

eyeslookedatmewithsuchintensityIknewshe’dgonethroughalot.Mychestfeltheavywith
dread.Threemonthswasalongtime.Clearly,whoeverheldherhostageharboredno
intentionoflettinghergo.Irealizedtheeyeslookingatmeweretheeyesofsomeonewhohad
seenhorriblethings.“Youhaveabetterchancetosurviveifyou’restrongbutcompliant.If
youwanttolive,youhavetoplayalonganddowhatevertheyaskyoutodo—andthey’ll
alwaysaskjustonce.Ifyoustruggleordon’tfollowtheircommands,they’llaskforpermission

tokillyou.”Shepausedbeforeadding.“Andsomeofthemlovedoingthat.”

InoddedandforcedairintomylungsasItriedtomemorizeeverysingleword.
“Theybringfoodonce,sometimestwiceaday,”Lizcontinued.“It’susuallythesame

thing:breadwithonedishconsistingofricewithmeat,orsteakwithfries,andaglassof
water.Ifyou’relucky,you’llalsogettwobluepillsandonelittlewhitepill.Eatthebread,drink
thewater,andalwaystakethebluepillsassoonasyoucan.Butdon’teattherestofthefood
becauseit’sspiked.Whateveryoudon’teat,findawaytogetridofitwithoutthemknowing.
Andremember,thebetteryougetatplayingalong,thehigheryourchancesofstayingalive.
Betteryet,trytoexceedtheirexpectations.”

“Whatarethebluepillsfor?”Iasked.
“They’llkeepyouawakeandnumbthepain.Ialwaystakethem.”
“Andthewhitepills?”
“Takethewhiteonesonlywhenyou’rereadytoabort.”Sheraisedhereyebrows

knowingly.“TheytendtogiveMisoprostol.It’sforstomachulcersandabortion,andshould
notbeusedwiththeblueones.”

“Howdoyou—”
“Iheardyouinyoursleep.Youwereloud.Talkingweirdstuffaboutadisk—andmore.”
Thediskandthebabywereasecret.Icouldn’tblurtitalloutinmysleep.Wavesofpanic

rushedthroughmeasIrealizedwhatwouldhappenifwhoeverhelduscaptivefoundout.

“Howdoyouknoweverything?”Iasked.
“Dannymademeworkonthestreetsuntilhisemployernoticedmeandaskedhimto

bringmehere.”Shewascutshortbythesoundofacarhorn.Ifiguredwewerenearastreetor
ahighway,butIwasn’tsure.Wekeptsilentforafewseconds.Whennothingstirred,she
continuedinahushedtone.“Youcan’tactlikethis,youknow?ThewayyoudidwithDanny.
Heisn’ttheworstone.Imean,thereareworse.”

Iglanceddownatmyhands,atthewaytheropecutintomyskin,thepainkeepingme

focusedandgroundedinrealitywhilemyfearparalyzedme.Thewholesituationseemedhard
tograsp,butIknewIhadtolistentoLiz’sadvicetogetoutofhere.Itwashardtoimaginethat
Dannywasn’ttheworst.Hehadfooledmywholefamilybypretendinghelovedmysister.He
knewwhatwouldhappentoherandstilllethercometoharm,whichdemonstratedhehadno
heart,nosoul,andsurelynoconscienceorcompassion.Tomehehadnoneofthequalities
thatmakeushuman.

“Idon’tcare,”Isaid.“Hekilledmysister.”
“I’mnotmakingexcusesforhim,”Lizwhispered.“He’soneofthesuppliers.Basically,he

providesgirlsinexchangefordrugsandmoney.Buthedoesn’ttakepartin—”Shedrewinher
breathandletitoutslowly.ThewayshedefendedDanny,Icouldn’thelpbutwonderwhat
theirrelationshipwas.

“Arethereotherslikeus?”Iasked,almosthopeful.Ifthereweremorewomen,maybewe

couldworktogetherandescape.Therehadtobeaway,orelseIdidn’tknowhowIcouldget
outonmyown.

“Therewere,”shereplied.“Theygetanewsupplytwiceamonth.Thefirsttwoweeksare

crucial.Afterthat,dependingonhowwellyoubehave,youhaveonlyoneworth.”Shefell
silent.Ourgazesconnectedthroughthegrids,andhereyesfilledwithfearandsomething
else:hopelessness.Hervoicedroppedtoawhisper,whichinawayfilledmewithmoreterror
thanthethingsshehaddisclosedsofar.“Youdon’twanttomesswiththem,orelseyou’llbe

punished.Ifyouhopethatsomeonewillhelpyou,don’t.Itwon’thappen.It’sneverhappened.
We’reonprivateproperty.Noone’sgoingtocomelookingforusherebecausethepeoplewho
ownitarerich.It’sliketheextremewingofaclub,orsomething.Dannytoldme,andIbelieve
him.Andhonestly,it’dbeastupidideatotrytorunaway.Twohavetried,andlookwhereit
gotthem.”

Aclub?
Istoppedbreathingforamomentasthepiecesofthepuzzleslowlyfellintoplace.

RobertMayfieldhadtriedtoprotecthisinterestsbygettingridofme.Andthensomeoneelse
steppedin.ThatwasthereasonwhyIwashere,eventhough,accordingtoDanny,Iwasolder
thanthegirlstheyusuallywentfor.

“Whywouldyoutellmeallofthis?Ifnoescape’spossible,then—”IshookmyheadasI

struggledtomakesenseofmythoughts.IfLizknewnoonemadeitout,whywasshestill
tryingtohelpme?Thelifeshewaslivingwasnolifeatall.IrealizedIwasspiralingintoadark
abyssofemotions,andIhadn’tevenfoundoutwhatwasreallygoingon.

“Becauseitdoesn’tmatter,”shesaid.Hervoicesoundedchokedasshecontinued.“I

wanttokeepyousafe,eventhoughIprobablywon’tbeableto.”Shemovedawayfromthe
vent,outofmyview.Iwaitedforhertocomeback,butshedidn’t.

“Liz?”
Whennoreplycame,Iunderstood.Withouthopeandfaith,shehaddoneallshehad

thoughtshecould.Whygetattachedtothe“newgirl”whoprobablywouldn’tmakeitpastthe
two-weekmarkanyway?

Isatdownonthecoldfloor.FortheumpteenthtimeIwonderedwhatitmust’vebeen

likeforherallaloneinhercell,beingatotherpeople’smercywithnoonetotalkto.Three
monthsmightnotseemlikealongtime,butitwaslongenoughtoneedsomeonenearherto
remindherthatshewasstillhumanratherthanaworthlessobject,someonewhounderstood
thehellshewasliving,someonewhowastheretosharethepainratherthaninflictitupon
her.

Maybeshehadfoundthatsomeone.
Whenmylimbsbegantostiffen,Icrawledbacktomysleepingplace,whichconsistedof

adirtymattressonthefloor,andsatdown.Iburiedmyfaceinmyhands,unabletoavoidthe
feelingsofdismaywashingoverme.

Jetthadn’texaggeratedwhenhesaidtheclubwasdangerous.Healsohadn’tliedwith

hisstatementthatwewereconnectedthroughasimilarpast.Ijustneverrealizedhowclose
hehadbeentothetruth.Howhorriblewoulditbeforhimtodiscoverhisfather’sclubkept
mehostage?He’dneverfindout,notleastbecausehe’dprobablynevercomelookingforme
afterIendedourrelationship,givinghimagoodreasontobelieveIhadwalkedoutonhim.It
hadbeenabadmistake.Iknewitnow;Ihadsenseditthen.AndIhadnooneelsetoblamebut
myself.

Thehourstickedby,andLiz’scellremainedquietasatomb.Thelightabovemyhead

keptburningrelentlessly,makingitimpossibletosleepforlongerthanafewminutesata
time.Itwashardtotellwhetheritwasdayornight,ifonedayhadpassedorseveral,butsure
enough,itfeltlikeaneternity.BythetimeIheardfootstepsagain,thefearinmymindand
coldinmylimbshadturnedmeintoashellofnothingness:functioningwithoutreacting,or
thinking.ItwasonlywhenthedooropenedthatIliftedmyheadandsatup,unsurewhatto
expect.

Ashortguyholdingatrayentered.Heplacedthetrayonthefloorandpushedittoward

mewithhisboot,thentookastepback.Ilookedfromthetraytothegunintheholsteraround
hiswaist.Heremainedquiet,buthisdarkeyesdidn’tstrayfromme.Therewasnowarningin
hiseyes.Justamusement.Icouldn’thelpbutthinkofacagedanimalinaglasshouse—asick
experiment,duringwhichIwasn’tconsideredanequalbecauseIdidn’tmatter.

“Thanks,”Imuttered,rememberingLiz’sadvicetobecompliant,eventhoughIwanted

tochargeathimtogettothatgun.

Itseemedtodothetrickbecauseheturnedawayandleft,lockingthedoorbehindhim.
Inearedthetraywarily.JustlikeLizpredicted,thefoodconsistedofamaincoursedish

—chickenwithriceandwhitesauce—andbread.Nexttotheglassofwaterwerethreepills:
twoblueandonewhite.WhatIdidn’texpectwasthatthebreadwascoveredinathinlayerof
bluemold,andthewaterinsidetheglasslookeddirty.EvenifLizwasright,Icouldn’tpossibly
eatanyofitinmycondition.

Besides,mynervesweretoofrayedtokeepanythingdown.Theprospectofstarvingto

deathsoundedmoreappealingthandyingbyviolenceordrugsbecauseatleastI’dkeepmy
self-respect.Icouldeatanothertime,onceIescaped.Ihadtobelievethatamiraclewas
possible.ButIwastoothirstytoabstainfromdrinkingthewater.Itookasipandgrimaced.It
tastedjustlikeitlooked.

Igrabbedthetrayandscannedthecelltofindahidingplace.Onthefarthestsideofthe

doorwasaventilationshaftinthefloor.Itwaswiderthantheoneinthewallandinthe
middlewasahole,whichIassumedservedasanopentoilet.Thesmellofexcrementwafting
fromitwassostrongIalmostthrewup.Ikneeleddownanddiscardedmymealandwhitepill.

Thethicksliceofbreadwastoolarge,soItoreitintobitsandthrewitintothehole

alongwiththewater.Iheldupthebluepills,consideringmynextmove.Lizwasright.IfI
wantedtoescape,Ihadtostayawake.Butnotlikethis.Mymindhadtoremainclear,without
theneedofwhateverthosepillswere.

Ireturnedthetraytothesamespotwheretheguardhadleftit,pushedthepillsinside

mypocketsincaseIneededthemlater,andsmashedthewaterglassagainsttheconcrete
floor.Thenoiseofbreakingglassechoedfromthewallsunnaturallyloudly,andforamomentI
wasconvincedsomeonewouldbargeintodemandanexplanation.AsquicklyasIcould,I
pickedupthelargestshard.Itwassmall,butasmallweaponwasbetterthannoweaponatall.
Ifitwassharpenoughtocutthroughskin,thenitwoulddoitsjob.

Therewasjustenoughtimetohideitinasmallholeofthemattressbeforefootsteps

approachedandthedoorswungopen,justlikeIknewitwould.

“Don’tmove!”oneofthetwoguardscommanded.Myhearthammeringhard,I

pretendedtofinishchewingasIwatchedoneofthemcleanuptheshards.

“Brooke,right?”theotheronesaid.Inoddedbutdidn’tdarelookup—orbreathe.He

stoodsocloseitgavemethecreeps.Heheldupmyhandstocheckthembeforesteppingaway
again.“Youmightbenew,butletmetellyouthis.Ifithappensagain,youwon’tgetourfancy
treatmentanymore.”

AsifIcared.
Icouldfeelhisintentstareandalmostsmiledwithreliefwhentheyretreated,andthe

doorfinallyclosed.Listeningforanysounds,IwaiteduntilIwassuretheywouldn’treturn,
thenretrievedtheshardfromthemattressandcutaholeintheinseamofmybusinesssuit,
thentuckeditinside.

AglanceatLiz’sventtoldmeshewasthere,watchinginsilence.
“Pleasedon’t,”shewhispered.
Ihadnointentiontogetherinvolvedorendangerherlife,butIwasn’tgoingtoaccept

mynewcircumstancesanddonothingaboutthem,either.Ignoringher,Isatdownonthe
mattressandbegantorockbackandforthinanattempttokeepmyselfawake.

Chapter 18

WHATEVERHADBEENinthatwaterbegantokickinalmostimmediatelyandanodd

senseoffloatingandbeingweightlessfilledme.Mybodybegantoshakeslightly,andthenthe
tremorsintensifiedandmybreathingquickened.Itwasverysimilartoapanicattack,andI
realizedwhateverwashappeningtomemighttakealongtimetosubside.Maybethewater
hadbeenspikedandLizdidn’tknow,ormaybeIwasindeedhavingapanicattack.Eitherway,
Ihadtogetagriponmyself.

Foralongtime,Ijustkeptstaringatthewalls.Iwasexhausted,butmymindwastoo

activetosleep,evenifIwantedto.Aguardcheckedonmeatregularintervals,buthenever
spoke.

Ididn’tknowhowmuchtimehadpassedwhenaclickoutsidemycellmademesitup,

alerted.Anotherclickfollowed,andIrealizedLiz’sdoorhadbeenopened.Severalpeople
enteredherroom.Thehushedvoicesweretoolowtounderstand.

Someonelaughed.
Andthenasoundthatmademybloodfreezeinmyveins.Iknewthatsound.Maybenot

knewasinhavingexperienceditbefore,butknewasinknowingwhatwashappening.I
couldn’ttellhowmanymenwereinLiz’scell,butIcouldheartheirlaughter,theslapping,the
grunting—theirbodiesslammingagainsthersastheyeachtooktheirturn.Shaking,Ipressed
myhandsagainstmymouthtostopanysoundsfromformingatthebackofmythroat.That’s
whenthewhimperingandscreamingbegan.Whatevertheyweredoingtoherdidn’tleave
muchtomyimagination.AsenseofpowerlessnesswashedovermeasIrealizedtherewas
nothingIcoulddotohelpher.

“Areyoufilming?”somebodyasked.
“Noshit,man.YouthinkI’dmissthat?”Thesecondguylaughed.Itwasadeepunnerving

sound,onewhichIinstantlyrecognized.ItwasthesameguywhohadthreatenedmeafterI
broketheglass.

“Let’sgetthenewoneinhere.Whatdoyouthink?”thethirdguysaid.Hisvoicewas

deepandhoarse.Asmoker’svoice.

Thefirstonespokeagain.“Remembertherules?Dantewantsherforhimself.”Fromthe

wayhesaid“her,”Irealizedtheyweretalkingaboutme.ButwhowasDante?Danny’swords
thatsomeonewantedmefirstcrossedmymind,andashudderrandownmyspine.Maybehe
hadbeentalkingaboutthesameguy—Dante.

“Ifwedrugher,shewon’tremember.Problemsolved,”thesmokervoicesaid.“Noone

wouldbelieveheranyway.”

Shit!
Myheartbegantopoundagainstmyribcage,andIforcedmyselftotakeslow,measured

breaths.Panickingwasn’tgoingtohelpanyone.

“No,that’snotagoodidea,”thefirstonesaid.Hesoundedtense,anxiouseven.“Dante

wantsherintheconditionshe’sinnow.Hewasclearonthat.”

Laughter,thenaclickingsound,likeabeltbuckle.
“Youdon’thavetodoit,”theguywiththesmokervoicesaid.“ButIwantmyfun.Youin,

Stu?”

“Countmein,”thesecondvoicereplied.“Buttakehertothewheelroom.”
Thewheelroom?Whatkindofroomwasthat?Cometothinkofit,Ididn’twanttofind

out.Thevoicescontinuedtospeak,theirwordsnolongerreachingmebecausethesoundof
mybloodrushinginmyearsdrownedoutallnoise.Iscannedmycellforaplacetohideand
escapebut,likebefore,therewasnosecretentrance.NoholeinthewallIcouldfitthrough.

WithtremblinghandsImadesuretheglassshardwasstillhiddenintheinseamofmy

suit.MybreathingmadeawhistlingsoundasIsatdownonthemattress,waitingtoseehow
eventswouldunfold.

Lifeordeath.BecauseifIfailed,IwassureIwouldn’tsurvivethenight.
Thedoorslammedopen,andinwalkedtwomen.Theywerebig,theirexpressions

relentless.Bothcarriedagun,andIrealizedmychanceswereprettyslim.Butmaybethatwas
whatthegunswerefor:tointimidatesoawomanwouldn’tputupagoodfight.Theblondone
—theonewhohadpickeduptheglassshards—hadthesunkencheeks,mottledskin,and
holloweyesofamethaddict.Theotheronewiththesmokyvoice,whodidn’tseemtocare
aboutDante’srules,wasbroadwithacroppedmilitaryhairstyleandacrookednose.I
recognizedhimastheguywhohadheldtheguninmyfaceintheparkinggarage.

Mymouthopenedtoscreamandclosedshutbecausetherewasnopurposein

screamingwhennoonewouldhearme.Iwantedtofight,scratchtheirfaces,eventhoughI
probablystoodnochanceagainsttwomaleswithguns.

Thedark-hairedguypulledmeup,removedtheropes,andshovedme.Weakfromalack

offood,water,andsleep,Istumbledforward.Butmymindwassharpenoughtotakeinmy
surroundings.

Thecorridorwaslongandnarrow,withdoorsoneitherside.Itlookedlikeanempty

storagebuildingwithlockedcells,fromwhichacorridorledintoanopenspacewithtwo
doors.ThesoundofmykittenheelsresonatedfromthewallsasIwasledthroughonedoor
intoanadjoiningparkinggaragewiththreeparkedtrucks.Ontheeasternside,almosthidden
bythelargesttruck,wereadozenadjustableshelvesliningthewall.Stashedontheshelves
wereboxes.Icranedmyneck,buttheyweretoofartopeekinside.

“Yougoin—I’llbringtherest,”thedark-hairedguysaid.Ipeeredovermyshoulderto

seehimwalkingovertotheshelvesandrummagingthroughtheboxes.

Theblondguy’shandclaspedaroundmyupperarmandurgedmeforwardtothetruck

inthefarthestcorner,thenpressedabutton.Arampdescendedandhegavemeanother
shove,urgingmetowalkup.

Inside,thelightwasdimmed,butIcouldseethatthetruckhadbeendecoratedto

resembleaplainroomwithwhitewallsandadoublebed.Cuffsandbeltsdangledfromeach
bedpost,andabrownrugcoveredthefloor.Mymouthwentdryasrealizationkickedin.

Thiswasthewheelroom—amoveabletransporterservingthesickpurposeofholding

womencaptive,andprobablyworse.

Ididn’twanttodieinhere.
Thiswasmychance.
ProbablytheonlychanceI’dget.
Damnit,Iwasn’tgoingtoletitgotowaste.
Slowly,Isqueezedmyhandintotheseamatmywaistandgrabbedtheendoftheglass

shardsotightthesharpedgecutintomyskin,sendingapangofpiercingpainthroughmy
nerveendings.ButIdidn’tcare.Withoutthinking,IturnedandplungedthetipashardasI
couldintotheman’sthroatandslicedtotheright,cuttingthroughskin,flesh,andnerves.His
bodyinstantlydoubledover,andhishandsmovedtohisthroat.Agushofbloodcoveredhis

skinandtrickleddownhisarmontothefloor.

“Stu!”Hisvoicewasmuffledbythegurglingsoundofblood.Hiswidenedeyesbetrayed

hispanicasheraisedhishandstohisface.

Ilefttheshardinhisthroatandrandowntheramp,inthedirectionwehadcomefrom

—andtheonlydoorIhadseen.

“Bitch.”Iheardthedark-hairedguyletoutalongstringofexpletives,whichwere

quicklyreplacedbyapproachingfootsteps.ButIdidn’tcareanddidn’tturn.AllIcaredabout
wasescaping.GetoutofthisplaceasfastasIcould.

Throughthedoor,Ireachedtheopenspace,butinsteadofheadinginthedirectionof

mycell,Idashedfortheotherdoor.Itwasarisk.AgambleIdidn’twanttotake,butIhadno
otherchoice.Thedrummingofmyheartstifledallothersounds,whichonlymademerun
faster.Ichargedthroughthedoor,thankfulthatitwasn’tlocked,andrealizedIwasina
stairwell.Iyankedattheemergencyexitdoor.Itwaslocked.Acurseescapedmylips.

Icouldn’tretracemystepsbecauseIhadnoideawheretheotherguy—Stu—was,soI

ranupthestairs,tryingeachdoorasIpassed.Bythetimethedooropenedagain,Ihad
reachedthethirdfloorandmylungswereburningfromthelackofoxygen.Ihadnoideahow
longIhadn’teatenanything,butIknewIcouldn’tgoonmuchfarther.Tomyrightwasadoor
leadingintothethird-floorcorridor.Thisonewasunlocked.Iwalkedthroughandclosedit
behindmeassilentlyasIcould.

Thecorridorlookedjustliketheonewiththecells,onlythedoorsstoodajar.Iquickly

scannedoneofthecellsasIranpastandrealizedtheywerestorageboxes,justliketheones
downstairs.Whoeverranthisbusinessclearlythoughtbig.Iheadedforthelastdoortomy
left,almostexpectinganotherparkinggarage.InsteadIenteredalargeopenspacewith
lockers.

Thedoorleadingfromthestairwellintothecorridoropened,andthepoundingsteps

toldmeIhadnotimetolose,soIopenedalockerdoorandsqueezedin.Thespacewastiny
butbigenoughformetofitinside.

Mybreathingcamelabored.Loud,even.Tryingtoslowdownmythumpingheart,I

pressedahandagainstmychest.Footstepsthuddeddownthecorridor,headingforme.

Iheldmybreathastheroomfellsilent.Throughthetinyslitsinthelocker,Icouldsee

Stu’sshape.Andthenthefootstepsdepartedagain,andthedoortothestairwellslammed
shut.

AsmuchasIwastemptedtostayhidden,itwasonlyamatteroftimeuntilStucame

back.ThethoughtofhimopeningthelockerandfindingmeafterwhatIhaddonetohisfriend
terrifiedme.SoIsteppedoutofthelocker,andhadjustheadedfortheotherendofthe
corridorwhensomeonegrabbedmywaistandsomethingpressedagainstmymouth.

IkickedandpunchedashardasIcould,fightingtheirongrip.
“Wheredoyouthinkyou’regoing?”Stuhissed.Hisbreathingcameheavyashepunched

thesideofmyhead,sendingmeagainstthewall.Instinctively,Icurvedintoaballtoprotect
mybaby,buthishandscurledinmyhair,pullingmebacktomyfeet.MyeyesfellonaguyI
hadn’tseenbeforeandonthesyringeinhishand.Asifsensingmysuddenpanic,hesmiled,
andIrealizedtherewereonlytwooutcomes.

I’dbepunishedbypayingdearlyformyout-of-orderbehavior.And,judgingbythelook

onhisface,henolongercaredtofollowDante’scommandsandleavemeunscathed.

Thesecondoutcomewasevenbleakerthanthefirst,soIpushedittothebackofmy

mind,notwantingtothinkaboutit.

Myscalpburned,butthepaindidn’tstopmefromfightingandpunchingthespace

aroundme.Myfootconnectedwithsomethingsoft,andStuletoutanotherstringofcurses.
Hishandletgoofmyhair,andforamomentIrelishedthesensationofbeingfree.Thenmy
legswerekickedfrombeneathmeandIcollapsed,knockingmyheadagainstthefloorinthe
process.

Myvisionblurred.Istruggledtogetupbutfingersmovedaroundmythroat,cuttingoff

myairsupply.Pinnedtotheground,unabletomoveorbreathe,Ipeeredintocolddarkeyes.
Stu’sfacewasamaskoffuryandarousalashecutoffmyairsupply.Theotherguykneeled
nexttohim.Iwincedwhenaneedlepiercedthroughmyskin.

Withinseconds,theanestheticdrugcoursingthroughmyveinsmademybodyweak.I

foughtandkickedhard,untilIrealizedtherewasnothingIcoulddo.Therealizationdidn’t
comefromfear.Mybodywasreadytogiveup,slowlyturningintoashellofnumbness.Itwas
asifmybodyhadnochoice.Iacceptedthatanythingcouldhappennow—thateverythingwas
myfaultandI’dbroughtthisuponmyself.

Stu’shandpulledupmybusinessskirtandtoreawaymypanties.Ifelttheairbetween

mylegsandheardthesoundofhiszipper.Iclosedmyeyestohidebehindmyeyelids—inside
mymind.Whateverhappened,Ididn’twanttowitnessit.

Noteventheloudgunshotmademeopenmyeyes.Northethuddingfootstepsaround

me.NorhearingJett’snameandsomeoneshouting,“Thisishowit’sdone,Jett.Youseemto
haveforgotten.”Thenanothergunshot,followedbyanother.ItwasonlywhenIheardJett’s
deepvoicethatIforcedmyheavyeyesopen,andmylipscurledintoaweaksmile.Hewasso
beautiful.Abeautifuldream.AtleastIwouldn’tfeelthepainbecauseIwasdreamingofhim.

“Brooke,baby.”HisgreeneyeswerefilledwithsomuchworrythatIwantedtoassure

himI’dbeokayjusttotakeawayhispain.Iwantedtotouchhim,toseeifhewashereor
whetherhisbeautifulfacewasjustanillusion,butmyfingerswouldn’tfollowmybrain’s
command.

“I’msorry,Brooke.”Heliftedmeinhisarmsandpressedmeagainsthischest.Through

thepaininsidemyheadandabdomen,Iinhaledthescentofhisaftershaveashekept
repeating,“We’llgetyououtofhere.”

“There’sagirldownstairs,”Iwhispered.“Pleasehelpher.AndJett,yourfather—”I

foughtagainsttheoverwhelmingfeelingoflosingcontrol.Everywordwasastruggle.Itriedto
keepmyeyesopen,butallIsawwasdarkness.“He’sstillalive.”

ThelastthingIheardwasJettshouting,“Callforanambulance,Brian.”
Andthendarknessdescendeduponme,swallowingmeupwhole.

Chapter 19

IWOKEUPinabedwithJettsleepinginareclinertomyright.Iwatchedthedeepworry

linesonhisforehead,thewayhisstubblecastashadowonhisface,darkeninghisfeatures.He
wasdressedinbluejeansandablackshirtthatbuiltastrongcontrasttothepristine
whitenessofthebedsheetsandthewalls.Hishairwasaknottedmess,remindingmeofthe
manytimesIhadrunmyfingersthroughit,butthememoriesquicklydissolvedinfavorof
reality.

Thedarkcirclesbeneathhiseyespaintedagoodpictureofwhathemust’vegone

throughinmyabsence.Eventhoughhelookedasthoughhehadn’tsleptfordays,myheart
fluttered.Hewasbeautiful.Ididn’tdaretouchhim,fearinghemightjustbeadreamfrom
whichIcouldwakeupanymoment.

Toconvincemyselfthatitwasn’tjustadream,Ilookedaroundtheroomandrealizedwe

wereinahospital.Brightraysofsunlightwerespillingthroughthewindows.Thedoorwas
closed,andapartfromJett’ssoftbreathing,noothersounddisturbedtheserenityaroundus.
Thepaininsidemyheadmadeitallfeelreal,butwasitreal?

Theroomwasdecoratedinwhiteandmutedyellow.Theonlysplashofcolorcameinthe

formofapinkcallalilybouquetinavaseonthenightstand.Icouldsmelltheirfaintscentand
rememberedtheywereSylvie’sfavoriteflowers.Andthenthememoriesslowlystartedto
pourin.Aheavyweightpinningmetothefloor.Ashot,followedbyJett’sfaceandhisarms
aroundmybody.Peoplespeakinganimatedly.Oh,God,andthepain.Irealizedthiscouldn’t
possiblybeadream.Iwashere—forreal—inahospitalbedbecauseJetthadsavedme.

Again.
Ismiledinspiteofthepainshootingthroughmytemples.
Somehowhehadfoundme.Wewerereunitedandthebaby—
Myheartdroppedasmorememoriesbegantotakeshape.
Jett’sfather.Thearrangement.Liz.Therape.Thedark-hairedguypunchingme

repeatedly,myheadhittingthefloor,andthewaytheotherguyplungedaneedleintomyarm,
injectingsomedrugthatrenderedmeunabletomoveandeventuallyunconscious.I
swallowedthelumpinmythroat.Evenifmynightmarewasover,itwasn’tquiteover.Ihadno
clueifLizsurvivedtherape.Ididn’tknowwhethermybabysurvivedthebeatingand
whateverhappenedafterthat.

Jetthadbeenreadytobeafather.Carryinghischildinsidemeandthenlosingitwould

feelalmostlikeabetrayaltowardhim.IhadtofindoutifIwasstillpregnant,andIhadtodoit
alone,beforeJettwokeup.

AsImoved,InearlytoreouttheIVneedlestuckinmyvein.Iwinced,andJettopenedhis

eyes.

“Brooke?”Hestoodandtouchedmyshouldergently.“I’mhere.Everything’sokay.”
Hiseyesassessedmeasifhewasn’tsurewhetherIsufferedfromamnesiaandwouldn’t

rememberhim.Ismiledinspiteofthetearstricklingdownmycheeks.Iwasoverwhelmed.
Justseeinghim,feelinghim,hearinghim—whenIthoughtIneverwouldagain—wasmore
amazingthanIhadeverenvisioned.Ihadforgottenhowbeautifulhiseyeswere,andtheway
heawakenedbutterfliesinsidemystomachwhenhejustlookedatme.

“Oh,God,I’msosorry,”Iwhisperedandlethimhugme.“Ican’tbelieveyoufoundme.”

Mythroathurt,butIdidn’tcare.“Thanksforcomingforme.”

“Iwouldnevergiveuponyou,youknowthat.”Hesatdownonthebed,pullingmewith

him,andgentlykissedmyforehead,mytemples,thebridgeofmynose,thecornersofmylips,
andfinallysettledonmylips.

Thescentofhim,hiswarmbody—everythingwasoverwhelming.Itwastoogoodtobe

true.Werestedineachother’sarmsforalongtime.Jettpulledbackfirstandtuckedastray
strandofhairbehindmyearashelookeddeepintomyeyes.“Icould’vebeentoolate,though,
inwhichcaseIdon’tknowwhatIwould’vedone.”

Hiswordstouchedmetothepointtearsbegantocloudmyvisionagain.Ismiled

bitterly.“Youwouldhavemovedoneventually.”Iknewmyattempttolightenupthe
conversationsucked,butIhadtogiveitashotanyway.“Youwouldhavemetanothergirlto
replaceme.”

Helaugheddarkly.Ilookedup,surprised.
“You’venoideawhatyou’retalkingabout.MaybeIdon’twantanothergirl.WhenIfellin

lovewithyou,IknewI’dloveyouatyourworst.Mostofall,Iknewyouhadthepowerto
destroymeinyourabsence.”Hisdarkgreeneyesprobedmine.“You’renotjustanygirlfor
me,Brooke.You’retheonlyonewhomatterstome.”

“Evenifthebaby’slost?”Iwhispered.Admittingittohimwaspainful,butitwasa

possibility.

Hiseyesreflectedhisemotionsashecuppedmyfaceanddrewmetohim.“Thebaby’s

okay,Brooke.Italkedwiththedoctor.”Hisvoicetrailedoff,leavingthemagnitudeofit
hangingbetweenus.Ibreathedout,relieved,andnoddedasJettcontinued,“Thosemenwon’t
hurtyouagain.Theydeservedwhattheygot.”Hisserioustonesentashiverdownmyspine.I
didn’tneedtoaskiftheywerestillalive.I’dheardthegunshots,andIknewwhattheymeant.I
didn’tevencarewhoshotthem.Ilookedthroughhiseyesintothedepthsofhissoul,andthat
wasenoughforme.

“WhataboutLiz?”Iasked.
“She’llmakeit.Thenursesputherinroom122.”
Adarkshadowcrossedhisfeatures.Hewaswithholdingsomething.Iwatchedhimrub

thenapeofhisneck,ahabithehadacquiredfollowinghisfather’sfeigneddeath,whichinturn
remindedmeJettstillmightnotknowthetruth.Ialmostdidn’twanttobreakourmoment,
butIhadtotellhim.

“Wehavetotalk,Jett,”Ibegan,addingsoftly,“aboutyourfather.”
“He’salive.Iknow.”Heavoidedmygaze.“Youtoldmetwodaysago.”
Twodaysago?HadIsleptthatlong?
“Myfatherwillpayforwhathedidtoyou.”Anervetwitchedbelowhislefteye.“I

promiseyouhewon’tharmyouagain.”

“No,Jett.”Ishookmyheadvehemently.Strangely,Ifeltdefensiveofhisfather,despiteall

hehaddone.Comparedtothemen,Roberthadn’ttriedtokillme,butthenagain,maybeour
meetinghadbeennothingbutthestuntofagoodliar.“Wedon’tknowifitwashim.Themen
whocapturedmekilledhisdriverbeforetakingmetothatbuilding.Itwouldn’tmakesense.
Yourfatherwantedmeoutofyourlifebutpromisedtokeepmesafe.Heknewaboutourbaby.
Idon’tthinkhe’dbreakhispromise.”

Jettnodded,butIcouldtellbyhisskepticalexpressionhewasn’tconvinced.Iwasabout

torecountthemeetingwithhisfatherwhensomeoneknocked,andaphysicianwalkedin
holdingachart.Jettstoodandtheybothexchangedglances,beforethedoctorturnedtome.

“Iseeyou’reawake,MissStewart.”Hesteppedcloser,andIrealizedhewasyoung,

maybefiveorsixyearsolderthanJett.“I’mDr.Barn.Howareyoufeeling?”

“I’vebeenbetter.”Ireturnedhissmilehesitantly.
Heretrievedapenlightfromhispocketandshonethebeamintomyeyes.“Isyourhead

hurting?”

“Alittle.”
Ithurtalot,butacknowledgingitwouldonlyalarmJett.
Dr.Barnpushedthepenlightinsidethepocketofhisrobeandcheckedmyvitals.

Eventuallyhisattentionfocusedonthechartinhishand.

“Youreceivedablowtotheoccipitallobe,whichisthecauseofyourheadache.Results

shownosignsofswelling,though.Youhavenointernalbleedingandnosignsoftrauma.”He
peeredfrommetoJett,whohadn’tmovedfromthespot,andthenbackatme.“Yourblood
testshowsyou’repregnant.Wereyouawareofyourcondition?”

“Yes.”Inodded.“Firstterm.”
“Itlookslikeyouwerelucky,butIwouldstronglysuggestyouseeyourgynecologist

uponyourrelease,”hesaid.

“Why?”Jettasked.Itookadeepbreathandletitoutslowly,ignoringthesuddenneedto

groanandslaphisarm.Iwasalive,thebabywasokay,JettandIwerereunited.Basically,in
spiteofthebruisesonmyarmsandthethuddinginsidemyhead,Iwashavingthebestdayof
mylife.Yethelookedlikehewasabouttostrapthephysiciantoachairandcommencean
interrogation.

“I’msureit’sjustaprecaution.”IsqueezedJett’sarmgently,silentlybegginghimtostop

hisintimidationtactic,buthisintensegazeremainedfixedonthedoctor,staringthepoor
mandown.

“Well.”Dr.Barnshifteduncomfortablyasheconsideredhiswords.“AsfarasIcansee

fromthetestswe’verun,nothing’swrong,butofcoursethedrugs—eventhebriefexposure
—couldhaveinfluencedfetaldevelopment.Thechanceofdamageispossiblebutminimal.To
knowforsure,westronglysuggestregularcheckups.”Heletoutabreath,asthoughhehad
beenholdingit.

“Thankyou,Dr.Barn.”IshotJettaconfidentsmile.Hisfaceremainedastonymask.
Intense.
Possessive.
Overprotective.
MysmilewidenedatthewordsmybrainchosetodescribeJett.Eventhoughhedrove

mecrazyattimes,Iwasthankfulforthefacthenevergaveup.ItwasoneofthemanythingsI
lovedabouthim.

“You’rewelcome.”Dr.BarnshookmyhandandthenturnedtoJett.“She’llbereleased

today.Takeherhome,andmakesureshesleepsofftheheadache.Brianisexpectingyou
tonight.Sameplaceasusual.”

Therewassomethingstrangeinthewaythedoctor’stonehadbecomemoreintimate,

nottomentionitwasanoddthingtosay.Besides,thename“Brian”rangfamiliar.AndthenI
rememberedsomeonehadshouteditbeforeIblackedout.

Dr.Barnwishedmewellandleft.
“WhatwashetalkingaboutwhenhesaidBrianwouldbewaitingforyou?Whatplace?”I

askedassoonasthedoorclosed.

“Longstory.”Jettsighedanddroppedintotherecliner,facingmewithanexpression

thattoldmehewasn’tkeenonelucidating.

Iinclinedmyhead,myeyesmatchinghisstubbornness.“You’reluckyIhaveallthetime

intheworld,Mayfield.Sostartspilling.”

“Sam—Dr.Barn—andIgowayback.He’stheonlydoctorItrust,whichiswhyIbrought

youhere.”Hegesturedaroundhim.“It’shisprivateclinic,wherenoonewouldfindyou.”His
eyesshimmeredwithhesitation,signalingtherewasmorethanheleton.

“Okay,butwho’sBrian?WhatdoesthishavetodowithSam?”
Jettremainedsilent.Iwasn’tgoingtodropit,andheknewit.Finally,hecavedin.
“WhenKennycouldn’ttrackyourGPS,wehadnootherchoicebuttoaskmyoldgangfor

helptofindyourwhereabouts.”

Myeyeswidened.Iopenedmymouthtoaskthemillionquestionsambushingmymind

likewildfire,butJett’sfingerspressedagainstmylips,stoppingme.“Itwastheonlyway.
Eitherthatorgivingup.SoIstruckadealwithBrian,theleader.”

“Whatdeal?”Iwhispered.
“ThatIreturn.”Helookedaway,hesitating.
Itookadeepbreath,andthenanother,unabletospeak.Irememberedthefewstorieshe

hadtoldmeandknewthatpartofhislifehadn’tbeenapleasantexperience.Afterhehadleft,
hehadvowedtoneverreturn.Nowhewould—becauseofme.

“IdidwhatIhadtodo,Brooke.Itwastheonlywaytofindyou.Doyouunderstand?”He

tookmyhandsinhis,hiseyesmeetingmine.“Rightnowyou’renotsafe.It’sonlyamatterof
timeuntilwhoever’sresponsibleforyourabductionfindsyou.HidingwiththepeopleIonce
trustedistheonlywayIcanbesurenoonewillfindyou,untilIcantakecareofeverything.So
tonightI’mfulfillingpartthedeal.”Heranafingertipacrossmycheekandletoutadeep
breath.“There’sgoingtobearace.BrianwantstoseewhetherIstillhavewhatittakes.
WhetherI’mworthyofhiscrew.It’spartofthedeal.”

“Idon’tlikeit,”Iwhispered
“Me,neither.”Hesmiled.“Butthat’snotimportant.Idon’tcareaboutanyonebutyou,

andforyouI’ddoanything.GoingbackisworthwhateverBrianwillputmethroughtoearn
histrustback.”Hisexpressionsoftened,buthecouldn’thidetheglintofangerinhiseyes.“If
we’dlostthebaby,I’dhavemourned.Butyourlosswouldhavebrokenmeintopieces.It
wouldhavebeenevenworsethanyouwalkingawayorfindingoutthatmyfathertrickedus.I
would’verippedaparteverythingandeveryone,eventhoughitwouldn’thavestoppedthe
pain.I’dhuntdownanyoneresponsibleforhurtingyou.Andthat’sexactlywhatI’mgoingto
do.Withtherightresourcesatmydisposal,I’llletthembleedtodeathslowly.”Helookedso
resoluteIknewtherewasnopointinarguing.

Jettbentforwardandkissedme.“Now,Iwantyoutotellmeeverything,Brooke.Iwant

toknowexactlywhathappened.”Hisgazeglintedwithfury.“I’llmakethemallpay.Ipromise.
There’snowayinhellI’llletyoudownagain.Iwon’trepeatthatmistake.Nomatterwhat.”

Youdidn’tletmedown,Iwantedtowhisper,butdidn’tbecausehisimpatienceand

urgencywereclear.Andforachange,Iwasreadytolistentohisreasoningandfollowhis
plansratherthanmine.

Chapter 20

WESTAYEDINthehospitaluntillateafternoon.JettorderedlunchwhileItookashower,

visitedLiz,andthenjoinedhimdressedinthejeansandshirtSylviehadbroughttheday
before.JettinsistedthatIeatfirst.GiventhatIlookedlikeshit,withdarkcirclesbeneathmy
eyes,andpurplebruisesonmybody,Ididn’targue.

Isatdownatthetinytableandateinsilence,afterwhichItookthepainkillersanurse

broughtin,eventhoughmyheadachehadslowlybeguntoclear.Andthenwetalkedfortwo
hoursstraight,duringwhichIrecalledthepertinent:thedaySylviefoundthebookanddisk,
howImethisfather,thecar-jacking,andthenfinallythebuilding.Thesmellofexcrementand
dirtlingeredatthebackofmymind,andforamomentittookmeallmymightnottobreak
down.Jettlistenedquietly,hisfingersclenchinguntilthewhiteofhisknucklesshimmered
throughhisskinwhenIdescribedthethreemenandwhattheydidtoLizandme.

Asmorememoriesstartedtofloodmymind,IrealizedIhadforgottenonevery

importantthingthathappenedtomeonthefirstday.

Danny.
HowthehellcouldIforgetabouthim?
MaybemymindhadthebizarreabilitytoerasehimorIwassufferingfromselective

memory,asifforgettingwastheonlycopingmechanismitknewtostopmefromthinkingof
mysister.Likesomeonelivingtheirentireexistenceindarknessandonedayexperiencing
lightforthefirsttime,Ifelttherawpain,butIcouldn’tevadeit.SoIstartedtorememberall
thethingsI’dratherforgetagain.

“There’smore,”Iwhispered.MyhandswereshakingsobadlyIhadtohidethemunder

thetableclothasangerrippledthroughme.“IsawDanny.He’sworkingforthem.”

Jett’seyesflickeredandaflashofrecognitioncrossedhisface.Ididn’tneedtoelaborate

becauseheknewthepersonwhofrequentedmynightmares,eventhoughtheyhadnevermet.

“TheguyresponsibleforJenna’sdeath.”Itwasn’taquestionbutastatement.“Theone

whowalkedfreeandwhosefriendsthreatenedyou.”

Inodded,unabletolookstraightathim.“Afterallthoseyears,itwasthelastplaceI

thoughtI’dfindhim.”

Jett’seyesnarrowed.“Washeoneofthethree?”
“Ifyoumeantoaskwhetherhewasshot,no.Ionlysawhimonce—thedayIarrived.He’s

asupplierbutdoesn’tparticipatein—”Itrailedoff,unabletospeaktheterrifyingtruth.

“Didhetouchyou?”Hisbrowcreased.EventhoughIcouldn’ttellwhetherwithworryor

anger,thedangerousglintinhiseyesdidn’tescapeme.IrememberedthewayDannyhad
slappedme.Ithadhurt,butitwasnothingcomparedtothepainhehadinflicteduponmeby
talkingaboutmysisterthewayhehad.WouldJettunderstand?Probably.Butthiswasn’tthe
timetoburdenhim.Hehadenoughonhisplatealready.

“Itdoesn’tmatter.That’snotwhyI’mtellingyouthis.”Icastmyeyesdowntohidethe

shameandhumiliationburninginsideme.MythroattightenedwithhateforDanny,which
broughtonmoreshame.IhatedthemenwhohurtLiz,butthehateIfeltforDannywas
different.

Itconsumedme.
I’dneverforgethiswords.Hisface.Thatheseemedtothinkhewasuntouchable.
AnotherflickerofangercrossedJett’sface.Hetookmyhandinhisandhisthumbbegan

todrawcirclesonmyskin,encouragingme.Iclearedmythroat.

“Dannysaidhewould’vewalkedfreeregardless.Thatitwouldn’thavematteredifIhad

testifiedorfoundproof.Somehow,Ibelievehim,Jett.Ibelievehewasprotectedbytheclub.”

“We’llseeaboutthat.”Jett’seyesresembledachargeofforcewithsomuchpowerand

determinationIknewthatiftheopportunitypresenteditself,hewouldn’thesitatetohurt
Danny.Ihadseenthescarsunderhistattooonandbeneathhisupperarm,andtheysurely
hadn’tmagicallyappeared.He’dfightforme.AndIdidn’twantthat.Theriskofhimgetting
hurtwastoobig—ariskI’dnevertake.IfeltaglimmerofhopeinknowingthatIwassafewith
JettandwishedIhadtrustedhiminsteadoftakingoff,butatthesametimeIfearedforhis
safety,nowmorethanever.

Jett’seyesglazedoverasifhisthoughtswerefaraway.Idecidedtochangethetopicand

askhimtheonequestionthathadlingeredonmymindsinceIwokeup.

“Jett?”Itouchedhisarmtodrawhisattentionbacktome.“Howdidyoufindme?”
Hepushedhischairclosertomeuntilhislegbrushedmyjeans.“Wecheckedthe

surveillancecamerasinthegarageandsawthatyouweredraggedoutofthecarintoavan.
Thelicenseplate’sregisteredtoanoldladyoutsidethestate,soIfigureditmustbefake,like
theoneinItaly.WewenttoBrian,andheputusintouchwiththeguywhocreatesthebest
fakelicenseplatesinthestate.”Hepaused,andIleanedforward,interested.“Turnsouthe
issuedtheplatesafewweeksagotoaguyknownfordoingtheodddriverjob,andnotofthe
legalkind.”

“Youtrackedhimdown,didn’tyou?”Ididn’tknowwhethertobemortifiedorthankful.
“Yeah.Webeatthecrapoutofhimtofindoutyourwhereabouts.”Jettsmirked.“Let’s

justsayittookusseveralhourstogethimtalkingandfindoutwherehebroughtyou.Hewas
atoughSOB,Ihavetogivehimthat.”

“That’s—”Allwordsfailedme.
Hecockedabrow.“Impressive?”
“Iwantedtosay“scary”butyeah,“impressive”willdo.”Ilaughed,figuringJettdefinitely

deservedthepraiseforhisegoafterallhe’ddoneforme.“Whataboutyourfather’sdriver?”

“He’sdead,baby,”Jettsaidcalmly.“Wefoundhiminsidethevan.Theydidn’tgetto

disposeofthebody.”

Therewasno“probably,”no“maybe,”justadefiniteanswer.Ididn’tknowtheguy,but

forsomereasonIthoughthedidn’tdeservehisfate.

“Idon’tunderstandwhytheyhadtokillhim.”
“Iknowyouhavethishugeheartandtendtofeelguiltyalot.Butdon’t.It’snotyour

fault.”Jettkissedmypalmgently.“Theywantthebook,justlikemyfather,andthey’lldo
anythingtogetit.”

Maybe.
Ihesitated,unconvinced.
“What?”Jettprobed.
“Theyneveraskedforit,”Isaid.WorrysetinasIrealizedIhadnoideawherethebook

was.“Igaveittothedriver.Itwasstillinthecarwhenthevanhitus.”

“Iknow.Wealsofoundyourhandbagandabriefcase,”hesaidandshookhishead.“They

wereamateurs.Professionalswouldneverhaveclosedthecardoorsanddrivenoff,leaving
behindevidence.LikeSamsaid,wewerelucky.”

Ismiled.Yes,wewere,indeed.Wouldwebenexttime?Ididn’tknowbutIwassureI

wouldn’tgetmyselfintosuchamessagain.

“Sylviebroughtthedisk,”Jettsaid.
“ThankGod,”Imumbled.Ihadbeensostupidtoriskthatpieceofevidencebysendingit

viasnailmail.WhatthehellhadIbeenthinking?IthoughtJettdidn’thearme,buthislips
twitched.

“AreyousingingheavenlypraisebecausethediskarrivedsafelyorbecauseSylvieandI

workedtogether?”

“No!”Myjawdropped.“Youdid?Soyou’vetamedthedragon?”Sylviehadmadeit

perfectlyclearshewouldn’tforgiveJettforthefewdaysofheartachehehadcausedme,while
deepinmyheart,Ihonestlyhopedthey’dbefriendsoneday.

“She’satoughone.Anyway—”Hegrimaced,andhiselectricgreengazeboredintome.

Theseriousundertonesinhisvoicemademefearthequestionbeforeitcame.“Ihavetoask
yousomethingandIwantyoutobehonestwithme.”

Myheartstartedtohammerhardagainstmyribcage.Iwasn’tterrifiedofhim,butthe

thoughtofwhateverwasgoingoninhismindwasfrighteningintheword’struestsense.

“Whydidyourun,Brooke?”heasked,quietly.
“BecauseI—”Strugglingforwords,Imoistenedmylips.
“Myfatherofferedyouadeal?”Atmyshockedexpression,hesmirked.“Yeah,youtalked

inyoursleep,andwefoundthebriefcase.Itwasopen.”

IrealizedIhadnevercloseditbecausewewerecar-jacked,meaninghemusthavefound

thefakepassport,thecash,andthebankaccountstatement.Aterriblethoughtoccurredtome
—thathemightthinkmaterialgainwasmoreimportanttomethanourrelationship.

“Ineverwantedhismoney,Jett.HethreatenedtohurtSylvieandeveryoneelseinmy

life.Ifearedforthem,”Isaid,slowly.“Foryou.”

Henoddedbuttookhistimetoreply.“Iwishyouhadtrustedmeenoughtotellme

ratherthanrunaway.Icould’vetakencareofit.”

“Iknow,andI’msorry.”
Hisfingerskeptstrokingmyhand,andIrelaxedagainsthistouch.“Forwhatit’sworth,

evenafterfindingthebriefcaseIdidn’tbelieveyou’dtakeoffbecauseoftwomill.”

“Why?”
“Oneofmyfather’sclubbuddiesshowedupatmyofficetoinvitemetosomeparty,”Jett

said.

“Ofcourse.Howniceofhim,”Isaid,dryly.
“Mypointisthatafterhestoppedby,IcalledSylvie,”Jettsaid.“Aftershetoldmewhat

happened,Iknewsomeonemust’vecomeafterthebook.Inreturn,Ifigureditmustbethe
reasonwhyyouhadbeenactingstrangeandwantedtobreakupwithme.”

Iraisedmyeyebrows,andJettlaughedoutloud.“I’msorry,baby,butIdidn’tbelieveyou

whenyousaidyouwantedtobreakupwithme.”

Mylipstwitched.“Youhaveabigego,youknowthat?”
“IneversaidI’mperfect,andIcangiveyoutwoexamples.”Hepausedtothink.
Wow,onlytwo?
“First,Iwaswrong,Brooke,”hesaid.“Thebookisnotahitlist.Istillhavetofigureout

whatthenamesandnumbersareallabout,butwedidn’tgetthechancetoskimthroughthe
harddrive’scontents.Andsecond,Ineverapologized.”

Inarrowedmyeyes.“Forwhat?”

“Youalwaysaskedwhatthebigdealwasaboutthisclub.Itoldyouthatit’sagathering

thatcaterstothoselookingforextremesexualencounters,”Jettsaid,slowly.“WhatIleftoutis
thatsomememberskidnapanddrugwomentorapethem.”Hetookadeepbreathandletit
outslowly—almostasifthesecrethadbeentooheavytocarry,andhewasrelievedtoshareit
withme.“Accordingtomyfather’saccount,somemembersareprettyharmless,butafew
thriveonpower.Theypreyonfear.”Iopenedmymouthtospeakbutheheldupahand,
stoppingme.“Iwasn’tproudofmyfatherbeingpartofit,andIwastooashamedtotellyou.”

“Youdon’thavetoapologize.Evenifyouhadtoldme,itwouldn’thavestoppedthem

from—”Istoppedbecausetheshocksatdeep.

Gettingme.
SuchastupidmistaketothinkIcouldhavetakencareofitmyself.Ipushedmythoughts

tothebackofmymind,whereIcouldn’treachthemandponderoverthepast.

JettinterlacedhisfingerswithmineandforamomentIstaredatthem,admiringthe

beautyofhishands.Stronghands.Capable.

“I’llhavetoadmititwasaboldmove,Brooke.Sendingthediskinanenvelope,thatis,”

hewhispered.Icouldtellhewastryingtoeasethetensionbybeingplayful.Idecidedtoplay
along.

“Youtaughtmeboldwell.”
Hislipstwitchedwithamusement.“Good.Thenyou’rereadyforsteptwo.”
“Whichis?”Iraisedmybrows.Wewerebacktoourplayfulnature,howthingsusedto

be…andIlovedit.

“Livingfastanddangerous.Sincewe’restayingwiththegangforawhile,you’dbetter

getusedtolivinginthefastlane,MissStewart.”

AfterwhatI’dgonethrough,Icouldhandlewhateverlifethrewmyway.Joininghisgang

seemedtobetheleastofourtroubles.

“Whenareweleaving?”Iasked.
“You’rein?Justlikethat?“Heseemedsurprised.
“Whynot?”Ijuttedmychinout.“Youroldgangcan’tpossiblybeworsethanyour

father’sclub.Nooffence.”

“Nonetaken.”Aglintofamusementlituphiseyes.“Letmeguess,you’rethinkingafew

boyshangingout,drinkingbears,talkingabouttheir‘biaches.’”

HadIbeenthatobvious?
Irolledmyeyes.“Iknowthey’recarryinggunsandstuff.”
Helaughed,thedelicateskinbeneathhiseyescrinkling,andforthefirsttimeIcouldn’t

helpbutthinkhowstupidIhadbeentoleavehim.Nodaywould’vebeencompletewithout
him.

“I’vegottowarnyou,Brooke.They’reinsane.IhopeIwon’thavetotellyoutwice.”His

eyesneverleftmineasheliftedmyhandtohismouth.Iwatchedhimkissthetipofmyfingers
—slowandsensual,themotionstrangelyarousing.

“Insane…how?”Iasked,alittleshortofbreath.Thetemperaturewassoaring,andsurely

notbecausesomeonehadturneduptheheating.

Hissofttouchtrailingupmyarmsentashiverthroughme.Therewasnothingmore

deliciousthanthemixofshock,lust,andthevibeofmysteryandpossibledanger.

Yep,Jettwasdefinitelyrubbingoffonme.
Thepossibilityofseeinghisbadboypastforthefirsttimewaslikeanaphrodisiac.

“You’llfindouttonight.”Hegavemeawrysmile.“Ifanythinggoeswrong,we’releaving.

Deal?”Inodded,wide-eyed,andhisvoicesoftened.“Iwantyoutoknowthatifyoufall,I’llfall.
Youbelongwithme,andeverythingwedo,we’redoingtogether.”

“WhataboutLiz?”Icouldn’tjustgoandleaveherbehindwithoutprotection.NotthatI

wasmuchprotection,butstill.

“She’llbefine.”Jettsmiledgentlyashecuppedmyfaceandkissedme,hislipsbarely

brushingmine.Hisbreathsmelledofchocolateandcoffee.Togetherwithhismouth,itwasa
headycombination.“She’llbestayingattheclinicforafewmoredaysuntilwefindtheright
placeforhertostay.SamBarnwilltakecareofhereventhoughIdon’tthinkshe’stheclub’s
target,butyouneverknow.”

Chapter 21

ASUNCOMFORTABLEASIfeltattheprospectofleavingthesafetyoftheprivate

hospitalbehind,Ialsofeltastrongurgencytogetbacktonormality.Jett’ssilenceduringthe
drivestifledsomeofmyenthusiasm,though,replacingitwiththegrowingawarenessthatI
wasabouttofindoutmoreabouthispast.

Thegood,thebad,andthescary.Ormaybethesexy.
Thesunwasstreakingtheskyinshadesoforangeandcopperwhenwefinallyleftthe

highwayandturnedtowardwhatlookedlikeanindustrialestatewithwarehouses.Thecar
skiddedtoahaltinfrontofahighbarbed-wirefence,behindwhichIcouldseeastringof
buildings.Itwasn’tatallhowIimaginedtheplacetobe.Thethree-storywarehousesbuilta
clusterofrundownwallsthatseemedabandoned.Theyardlookeddesertedundunkempt.
Andsomewindowsweresmashedin.Iwould’vedoubtedJetthadtherightaddress,wereit
notforthehigh-techsecuritycamerasatthetopofthefence,theirtinyblacklensesflickering.
Ipeeredintoone,unabletoshakeoffthefeelingthatIwasbeingwatched.

Wereachedagatewithanintercom.IalmostexpectedJetttopressabuttonandthe

gatetoopen,butinsteadatallguywiththearmsofabodybuilderappearedfromsomewhere
toourright.HenoddedatJettandopenedthegatetoletusthrough,hisglanceamixtureof
mistrustandresentment.

“Doyouknowhim?”Iaskedaswedrovethroughthegateintoayardthesizeofa

footballfield.

“Yeah.”Jettstaredahead,hishandsclutchingatthesteeringwheelsotightlyIfearedit

mightsnapintwo.Maybehehadpersonalissueswiththeguard,inwhichcaseitwasnoneof
mybusiness.

Jettnavigatedtotheback,andIrealizedthebuildingswerearrangedina“U”shapewith

astripthesizeofatwo-carlaneinbetweenandwithparkingspacesoneitherside.Someof
theparkedcarslookedjustlikemineathome:oldandbattered.Icountedthem:twenty-three.
Jettpulledintoanemptyspacenearthefrontandkilledtheengine.

“Whyaretheresomanycars?”Iasked.
“They’rewaitingforus,”Jettsaidgravely.“Ready?”
Inodded,andweexited.Walkingpastthefirsttwobuildings,Iscannedthedark

windows.Movementontherooftopcaughtmyattention,andIcranedmynecktogetabetter
view.Something—Iguessedapieceoffabric—flutteredintheeveningbreeze.Someonewas
upthere,nodoubtaboutit.

“Don’tlook,Brooke,”Jettsaid.“Thisistheirterritory,andwehavetoshowrespect.They

don’ttakesnoopingaroundkindly.”

“Butyousaidthey’reexpectingus.”
Henodded,themovementofhisheadbarelynoticeable.“Theyare.Buttherearerules.”
IturnedbacktoJettbutkeptwatchingthebuildingsfromtheperipheryofmyeyes.Jett

didthesame—Icouldtellfromthewayhiseyesscannedtheareawithouthimturninghis
head.

“Dotheyhaveanythingtohidethattheykeepguards?”Iwhispered.
“Theyalldo.”
IwaitedforJetttoelaborate.Hekeptquiet.FromthecornerofmyeyesIcaught

someoneontherooftopsignalingsomething.

“They’rebeingcareful,”Jettsaideventually.“There’salotofrivalrygoingon.”
Rivalgangs—Iknewthestoriesfromnewspapers,thoughtheyalwaysseemedtobelong

toadifferentworld.Beingheremadeitallseemreal,andscarierthanIimagined.

Jettstoppedinfrontofthefourthbuilding.Ilookedupatthedirtywindows.Behind

themstretcheddarkness.Nomovement.Nolight.Nolife.Justshabbyoldwallsindireneedof
renovation.

“Areyousurewe’reattherightplace?”Iasked.“Itdoesn’tlooklikeanybodycould

possiblyliveinhere.”

Jettshotmeasarcasticsmilebutdidn’tcomment.Insteadhesaid,“Thepeopleyou’re

abouttomeetusedtobemyfriends.Someofthemstillare,butdon’ttrustthemuntilIsay
so.”

“Why’sthat?”
“Ibrokeafewrules.”
“Somerulesaremeanttobebroken,”Isaid.
“I’mnotsureaboutthat.”Grimacing,heopenedthedoorand,pressinghishandagainst

thesmallofmyback,heguidedmeinside.Itwasoneofhisoverprotectivegestures—a
gesturethatwasbothmeanttomarkhisterritoryandkeepmeclose.Isnortedinwardly.Like
anyonewouldstarthittingonmewhentheyhadmorepressingissuestodealwith.

Wewalkedthroughalargeemptyhallandreachedastaircase.Hushedvoicescarried

overfromdownstairs.Jettinstructedmetokeepquietasweheadedforthem,amillion
questionscirclingthroughmymind.

“We’redownhere,”amalevoiceechoed.Jettgavemeaknowinglookandtiltedhishead

totheleft.OnlythendidInoticethesecuritycameraandintercominstalledinthewall.

WeclimbeddownthelastflightofstairsandreachedwhatIbelievedtobethe

basement.Itwasfreezingcoldanddark;theairsmelledofchemicals.Withsuresteps,Jettled
methroughacorridor,andweturnedanothercornerbeforewefinallyreachedanopenspace
withabarandsittingopportunities.

Atleastfortypeoplehadgathered—mostofthemmale.Themomentweappearedall

conversationsstopped,ormaybeitfeltlikeitbecauseitallseemedsoquietandtense.I
scannedtheaccusatoryfacesandnoticedSylvieandKennyamongthem.Shewavedatme,
andIfoughttheurgetowaveback.ThiswasJett’sworld.Tofitin,Ihadtobehaveaccordingly.
MyheartdroppedwhenInoticedsomeofthepeoplecarriedweapons.

Wewereintruders.
Theydidn’tlikeintruders.
Infact,withtheirhardstarestheylookedasiftheydidn’tlikeanyone.Period.
Jettletgoofmyhandandmotionedformetostay.Atthesametime,aguystepped

forward.Heworeasnug,short-sleevedshirt—thekindthatdidnothingtohidehisstrong,
tattooedarms.Butthat’snotwhyIstared.Onhisleftarm,reachinguptohisneck,hecarried
thesametattooasJett.

“NeverthoughtI’dlivetoseethedayyoucameback,bro.Thattookguts.”Hisvoice

soundedstrangelyfamiliar,andthenitdawnedonme.Hewastheonewhohadcalledoutto
JettrightbeforegunshotsrippledthroughtheairandJettrescuedme.

Brian.
Thatwashisname.
Jettsnorted.“NeitherdidI.”

“Isthatyourgirl?”Brianinclinedhisheadtowardme,hisgazescanningmeupanddown

andlingeringabittoolongonthebruisesonmyneck.

“Yeah.Brooke.”Jett’sanswerwasbarelymorethananirritatedgrunt.
“Doessheknowtherules?”
Ifrowned.Whatrules?Jetthadn’tcluedmeinonanyrules.
“Noneofyourconcern,”Jettreplied.Yetanotherirritatedgrunt,andIrealizedIwas

seeinganewsidetohim.

“Justasking.”Brianraisedhishandsindefensebeforeheturnedtome,asmileonhis

lips.“Comecloser.”

“Staywhereyouare,Brooke,”Jettcommanded.Hisirritationwasnowreplacedby

annoyance.Idecidedtolistenanddidn’tmovefromthespot.

Brianlaughed.“Protectiveofher,huh?WhatdoyouthinkI’ddo?IfIwantedtotouchher,

Iwouldhavedonesoalready.”Hiseyeswanderedbacktome.“I’mnotthatkindofguy,right?”
Hewasenjoyingtheshowbecausehelovedbeingincontrol.Helikedtobethecenterof
attention.Icouldtellthatmuchfromthewayhisattentionkeptshiftingbetweenmeandhis
friends,asthoughhesoughttobeadmiredforhisshow.

“Youknow,I’vebeenthinking,”Briansaidtonooneinparticular.“DuringtheraceIwant

hertoridewithyou.”

“Comeon,man.Leaveheroutofthis,”someoneshoutedfromtheback.Myheadturned

inthevoice’sdirection.ItwasKenny.

“It’seithermyway,ornothing,”Briansaid,ignoringhim.Hisvoicecarriedawarning

thatsentachilldownmyspine.Theroomfellsilent.Somebegantonod,andmorejoinedin.

Mobmentality.
IfBriansnapped,otherswouldfollow.Ididn’tlikethat,notleastbecausemanycarried

weaponsandmadenosecretofit.Thecaveofmymouthwentdry.

“Shestays,”Jettsaid.“Itwasn’tpartofourarrangement.”
“Youthinkyoucanmarchinandmakedemands?”Briansteppedforwardandstopped

barelyafewinchesfromJett.“WhenIhelpedyoufindher,Isettledmydebt.Nowwe’reeven.
Seeingthatyouneedmyhelptohideherass,youeitherbendtomyrulesoryougetthefuck
out.”

“I’mnotriskingherlife.”
Brianshruggedandsqueezedhishandsinsidehispockets.“Toobad.”Heturnedtohis

friendsandtiltedhisheadtowardJettandme,whichIassumedwashiswayofinstructing
themtothrowusout.Jettwalkedbacktome,hishandclaspingmine.

“I’min,”IsaidtoBrian.Theroomfellsilent,andcountlessgazesfocusedonme.Wereit

notforthesurrealityofthesituation,Iwould’veapplaudedmyselfforfakingthekindof
confidenceIdidn’thave.

“No,you’renot,”Jetthissed.Iwhippedmyhandawayfromhim.
“Thisismydecision,”Isaid,emphasizingeachword.WithaglancebackatBrian,I

repeated,“LikeIsaid,I’min.”

Oureyesmet.
“Brave!”Briannoddedonce,thoughIcouldn’ttellwhetherhewasimpressedorjust

mockingme.Hewalkedoverslowly,hisblueeyespiercingmineashelookedatmeforwhat
seemedlikeaneternity,probablywaitingformetochangemymind.WhenIdidn’t,the
tensioninhisfaceeasedjustenoughtosignalmeIhadalmostwonwhateverbattlehewas

fighting.“Samsaidyouweredischargedfromthehospitalearliertoday.Areyousureyou
wanttodrivewithJett?”

“No,Brooke,”Jettsaid.Iignoredhim.
“I’mcertain.Itwouldn’tbethefirsttimeIsawJettrace.He’sthebest.”
Briansmiled,butitwasn’thumorIsawinhiseyes;Icouldswearitwassurprise,with

justalittlehintofrespect.

“We’llgetonwell.”Atlasthebrokeeyecontactandaddressedtheguysaroundus.“You

heardher.Whatareyouwaitingfor?Helpthemgetstarted.”

Thecrowdbroke.Jettstaredatmeaccusinglywithalookthatsaidwhatthefuck?I

shruggedandshothimmymostconfidentsmile,eventhoughIdidn’tfeelparticularly
confident.Truthbetold,Ihadonlyseenhimraceonce—backinItaly—anditwasn’tsomuch
ofaracebutafightbetweenlifeanddeath.Eventhen,Ihadbeenscaredoutofmymindand
couldn’tgetoutofthecarfastenough.

Iwasledoffintotheadjacenthall,leavingJettwithBrian.
You’redoinggreat,Stewart.
Sofarnoonehadseenthroughmyblatantpretense.Iconvincedmyselfthatitwasthe

rightchoice.Theonlychoicewehad.Jettneededmysupport,andIwouldsitwithhimtoshow
it.Ihadtoestablishmyplacejustashewouldestablishhis,becauseitwastheonlyplace
wherewecouldhide.

Chapter 22

WHATIHADthoughttobethebasementwasanopenspacetoolargetobelongtojust

onewarehouse.Iassumedtheywereallconnected,makingitonegiantsubterraneanmaze.As
wepassedthroughanotherhall,Inoticedtrainingareascompletewithnumerouspunching
bags,weight-liftingmachines,fourfull-sizedboxingrings,andvarioustrainingequipment.
Jetthadtoldmethiswaswherehelearnedtofight.AsmilespreadacrossmylipsasI
imaginedhimworkingoutallsweaty—hisstrongbicepsflexingashepunchedapunching
bag.Howhotwasthat?Ifwestayedforawhile,maybeIcouldgethimtoworkout—notthat
heneededit.Hisbodywasnothingbutperfection.Hisscars,thetattooonhisshoulder,his
sinfullydarkgreeneyes—hewasnothingbutagodtome.However,Iwantedtoseethis
perfectioninaction.

Thepictureofuslyingontheredtrainingmattressflickeredinsidemymind,hissweaty

hotbodymakinglovetomeonthehardfloor.ApangofheatgatheredbetweenmylegsasI
imaginedallthenaughtythingsI’ddowithhim.Tohim.Lethimdotome.

Someonetouchedmyarm,pullingmeoutofmydaydreams.Ilookedupatayoung

womanaboutmyage,andshepointedtoadoorontheleft.

“Getdressed.Thechangingroomsarethroughthere.Whenyou’redone,meetme

outside.”Shepointedtoanotherdoor.“Everyone’swaiting,sodon’ttaketoolong.”

“Where’sJett?”Iasked.
“You’llseeyourboyfriendsoonenough.”
Figuringshemightneedsometimetowarmuptome,Iignoredhersnideremarkand

shotherafriendlysmile.UntilIrealizedshemightbeanex,inwhichcaseshe’dneverwarm
uptome—orItoher.

IcouldfeelherinterestedgazeonmybackasIheadedforthechangingrooms.Iclosed

thedoorbehindmeandpressedmybodyagainstthesmoothwood.Iclosedmyeyes,fighting
theurgetositonthefloorandnevercomeoutagain.Inallhonesty,Ididn’tdohostilitywell—
especiallywhenitinvolvedalargegroupofarmedpeople.Infact,ifIcouldhidefromit
forever,Iwould.Butasahighlysupportivegirlfriend,thatwasn’tanoption.

“Hey.”
IopenedmyeyestothevoicestartlingmeandrealizeditwasSylvieandKenny.She

jumpedupfromabenchandwrappedherarmsaroundme.

“You’venoideahowworriedIwaswhenJettsaidyouweregone,”Sylviesaid.“Myfirst

thoughtwasthatyoubrokeupwithhimthenwentundercovertohide,whichis
understandable,giventhefactthathecanbeabitofa—”

“Sylvie,”Icutheroff.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Shewavedherhandandlaughed.“Apparently,Jettbeinghereisahugedeal,soKenny

draggedmealong.Anyway,yourdisappearingactwasmorescarythaneverythingwewent
throughbackinItaly.”

Ismirked.Shehadn’tevenseenhalfofit.Likethecarchaseupthemountain.Howthe

heckwasIsupposedtostaycalm,livingandbreathing,duringanotheroneofthose?

“Youwerecloseenough,”Isaid.“Ibrokeupwithhim.”
“Youdid?”
“Whensomeone’sthreateningyou,youdon’treallyhaveachoice,”Isaid.“Thanksfor

tellinghimaboutthebook.”IletgoofherandturnedtoKenny,whohadbeenstandinglike

Sylvie’sshadowinthebackground.“Andthanksforhelpingout,Kenny.”

“I’mgladyou’reokay.”Hesqueezedhishandsintohispocketsandexchangedastrange

lookwithSylvie.Ididn’tneedtobetoldhowIlookedtoothers.Thesmallpurplebruisejust
abovemylefteyelidandmorebruisesaroundmynecksaiditall.Andtherewasthefactthat
Sylviehadseenmeinthehospital,whileIwassedatedandoutofit.

“AreyoureallyokaytoracewithJett,Brooke?”sheasked.“Youweredischargedfrom

thehospitalafterjusttwodays.”

Andyoudon’tlookokay.
Thewordslingeredintheair,unspoken.
Ismiledreassuringly,eventhoughIwasslowlybeginningtodoubtthesanityoftheidea.
“I’mfine.Thebaby’sfine.Thosearenothing.”Ipointedatmybruises,evadingher

worriedgaze.Itwasthetruth.Afewbruisesdidn’tbothermewhenIhadmoreimportant
thingstoworryabout.“StoplookingatmelikeI’mavictim,becauseI’mnot.Igotmyselfinto
thatsituation,andnowit’smychoicetoridewithJett.Andjustsoyouknow,Ididn’tgodown
withoutafight.”

“Ineverdoubtedthat,”Sylviewhispered.
Werethosetearsinhereyes?BecauseSylviealmostnevercried,whichcouldonlymean

Ihadcausedhertheshockofalifetime.

Squeezingherhand,Ilookedaround.Onthefareastsidewasalongrackwithauto

racingsuitsinvariouscolorsandsizes.Twobenchesandatablelinedtheoppositewall.
Stackedontopofthetablewereseveralcardboardboxes.Thelockerswerestraightahead.I
walkedover.Jett’snamewasonthethirdonefromleft.Myfingertipsbrushedoverthefaded
handwriting—Jett’shandwriting,whichI’drecognizeanywherebecauseitalwayslooked
hurried,asthoughheneverhadtimetolose,andyetsopoisedandelegant.

“Weneversawitcoming,”Kennysaidbehindme.
“What?”
“Thathe’dleavehisfriends.Itmightbehardtoimagine,butthisistheplacewhereJett

grewasaperson.Theplacehecalledhome.”

“WhydidBrianaskhimtorace,then?”Iturnedtofacehim.
“It’stradition.”Histonewasdefensive.
“Soundspersonaltome,”Imuttered.
“I’mwithBrooke,”Sylviesaid.“Besides,whywouldtheyallowhertoraceinher

condition?It’snotlikeshewantstojoin.”

“Tothem,Jettisachangedman.Hegrewuprich,butafterjoiningusheprovedhis

worth.Hewashappywithwhohewas.”Kenny’seyesfixedonme,hisexpressiontorn.
“Everyoneknewhedespisedhisfatherandthatwewerehisfamily.Hischoicetoleavethe
ganginfavorofhisfather’scompanycameasashocktous.”

“Us?”Ifrownedandcrossedmyarms.“Ithoughtyouleftwithhim.”
“Ididn’t,”hesaid,slowly.“Westayedfriends.”
“YouhelpedhimwithoutBrian’sknowing?”
“Yes.”Hisreplywasbarelymorethanawhisper.“Nooneknows,andit’sbetterifitstays

thatway.TheythinkhecametoBrianalone,wheninfactJettandIhavebeenintouchfor
years.Webothhavebuiltourcareersbenefitingfromeachother’shelp.”

“Wow,”Sylviewhispered.“Emotionalstuff.”
Eithershewasbeingsarcasticorgenuinelytouched—withher,itcouldgoeitherway.

Kennysmiledatherandcheckedhiswatch.“Let’sgetstarted.”Hewalkedovertotherack
withthesuitsandbegantocombthroughthem.Icouldtellfromhisstonyexpressionthathe
washidingsomething.AsmuchasIwantedtoaskwhytheothersneverkeptintouchwith
Jett,Ididn’t.

Kennypickedasuitandhandedittome.
“Nowlisten,today’satest,”hebegan.“Notforyou,butforJetttoseeifhe’sgoneallsoft.

Theywanttoseeifhestillhaswhatittakes.Thebestyoucandoiskeepquietandtrustwhat
he’sdoing,becauseJett—”hedrewinadeepbreathandletitoutslowly“—wasourbest
driver,andmanyofuswanthimback.”

Therewasmoretothestory.ItwasalloverKenny’sface.Itwasinhiseyesandtheway

heconsideredhiswordscarefully.

“Whathappened?”Sylvieasked,asthoughreadingmymind.
Kennypointedtoaboxonthetable.“Makesureyouweargloves,justincase.”
ItwasanobviousmaneuvertoavoidansweringSylvie’squestion.Idecidedtorephrase.
“Whatifhewinsandwestay?Willtherebeanyproblems?”Iasked.
“Afterwhathappened,maybe,”Kennysaid.“BetteraskJett.”
Ibitmylip,wonderingwhathemeant.SomuchofJett’spastwasinthedark,andwhileit

didn’tbothermebecauseIknewhe’dopenuptomeeventually,Isensedthemagnitudeofthe
situation.

“Youhavefiveminutesleft,”Kennysaidandthenwalkedout,leavingSylvieandme

alone.Intheprivacyoftheroom,mywallsofconfidencebegantocrumble.

“Thisissuchamess.Whatifwelose?”Iwhispered.
Sheclickedhertongueandsatdownbesideme.“BackinItalyyousaidhewasgood.”
“Wewerechasedandmadeitoutalive.Everythingisabigblurinfusedbypanic.”I

shudderedasIrememberedthewindingmountainroads.“Iwasscaredoutofmymind,
Sylvie,andcan’tremembermuch.Thisisdifferent,butjustasscary.GodknowsIhatewhen
peoplespeed,particularlywhenI’minsidethevehicle.”

“IsitstrangethatIhavefaithinhim?”Sylvieasked.“Iknowhewouldn’tdoanything

recklessandriskyourlife.”

Ididn’tknowifherwordsweremeanttoreassureme,orifshemeantthem.Itdidn’t

mattereitherway.

“Thanks.ButI’mnotworriedaboutJettdoinganythingreckless,”Iadmitted.“I’m

worriedthatifwelose,hewon’tbeabletoacceptfailure.”

IcouldseemyownfearreflectedinSylvie’seyes.Truthbetold,IhadneverseenJett

losingatanything.Sohowwouldhedealwithit?

“Justbelieveinhim,Brooke,”Sylviewhispered.
“You’reright,”Ireplied.“What’sthebigdeal,anyway?It’sprobablyjustastupidraceon

sometrainingground,right?”

“Ihavenoclue.”Shecheckedherwatch.“ButKennysaidhaveonlyfiveminutesleft,so

getdressedbeforesomeonebargesinhereanddragsyououtthere.ThatBrianguylookslike
he’scapableofit.”

“Hedoes,doesn’the?”Iclosedthedoorbehindherandchangedintothesuit.Itwas

looseonme,butnottothepointofbeingunwearable.Igrabbedsomegloves,andleftthe
sanctuaryofthechangingrooms.

Thewomanfrombeforewasn’toutside,butthedoortomyleftwasopenandanimated

voicescarriedoverfrominside.Iwalkedinandstoppedinmytracks.Infrontofuswereeight
sportscars,fouroneachside—thekindofvehiclesIonlyknewfromcarmagazines.Myjaw
almostdroppedasmyeyessweptoveroneluxurymodelafteranother.Theylookedlikethey
hadjustbeenimportedfromthemanufacturer,andifitwasn’tfortheirregistrationnumbers,
Iwouldhavebelievedtheywere.

Someofthedrivershadalreadytakentheirplacesbehindthewheel.Jetthadn’tarrived

yet,andtheagitatedmurmursshowedhisarrivalwashighlyanticipated.

IspiedBrianleaningagainstashinyblueFerrari,andhesmiledwhenoureyes

connected.Hisconfidencewasoverpowering,andwhilehewasn’tmytype,Icouldn’thelpbut
beawareofhismasculinityfromthewayhisprobingglancelingeredonme.Hewasassessing
me,probablywonderingwhyJettwouldreturnformetotheplaceheonceleft.Iraisedmy
chinandsmiledback.Butitwasacoldsmile,onethatwassupposedtosay,Youdon’tknow
me,andyou’llneverfiguremeout.

Thedooropened,andJettenteredtrailedbyadarkskinnedguy.Theroomfellsilent.

Likeme,hewasdressedinablackracingsuit.Ihadnoideawhenorwherehehadchanged,
buthelookedsohotmykneesturnedweakinspiteofmybetterjudgment.Thefabricsatsnug
aroundhisbroadshouldersandnarrowhips.Thezipperatthefrontwasn’tfullyzippedup,
revealingabronzepatchofskinjustbelowhisneck.Ifoughttheurgetoriseonmytoesand
placeakissonitjusttoseewhetherhetastedasdeliciousashelooked.

Hisgazebarelybrushedmeasheinchedcloser.Iknewwhenhewasangry—andright

nowhewasfuming.

BrianthrewJettthekeys,andJettcaughttheminmidair.
“Wekeptyourbaby.Thoughtyoumightfeelmoreathome,”Briansaid.“Ifyouneed

time,youknow,tocheckyourtiresorwhatever,letmeknowandI’lltellDoug.”

“Noneed.MyguysknowhowIlikeher,”Jettsaid.
Her?
Hiscarwasa“she”?
Whatdidyouexpect,Stewart?
Isuppressedtheurgetosmile.Itwasamalething—likegettingallworkedupabouta

bunchofguysrunningacrossafootballfieldforhours—buttheknowledgedidn’tmakeitless
sexy.

Jett’sfingerssettledfirmlyonmylowerbackasheguidedmetothedarkredsportscar

toourleft.Heopenedthepassengerdoorandmotionedformetogetin.Ifollowedhis
unspokencommandandwatchedhimdropintothedriver’sseat,thenfastenhisseatbelt.

Enginesbegantoroar,andthecrowddissipated.Thewalloppositefromusshiftedand

slowlyopened,givingaviewofthestreetandtheparkinglots.Mostofthepeoplegotinto
theircars,andIrealizedtheywerespectators.

Jettpushedthekeyintotheignitionandturnedontheengine,thendroveoutside

slowly,pasttheparkedvehiclesandontothemainroad.Hundredsofquestionsswirled
aroundinmyhead.WhowasDoug?Washetheguywho’dberacingagainstJett?Wherewere
weheading,andwhatexactlywasgoingtohappen?

IstoleaglanceatJett.Hiseyeswerefocusedontheroad,andIdecidedtopostponemy

interrogation.Hisstrainedexpressionworriedmeevenmorethannotknowingwhatto
expect.

Intherearviewmirror,Isawseveralcarstrailingus.Jettchangedlanes.Abluecarcutin

frontoftheothersanddrovenexttous.Ididn’tneedtolookatthedrivertoknowitwasBrian.
Jett’sfootremainedontheaccelerator,andforamomentIthoughthewouldn’tletBrianpass.
Andthenourcarsloweddown,andBriancutinfrontofus,andhistaillightsblinkedonce.

Hewasmockingus.Puttingonashow.
Seeminglyunaffected,JettfollowedtheblueFerrariataleisurelyspeedtoGodknows

where.

Chapter 23

THROUGHOUTTHEDRIVEJettkeptquiet,andIdidn’tspeakincasehewastappinginto

hisinnerpowers,orplanninghisstrategy,orwhateverprofessionaldriversdid.Itwasonly
afterwe’dleftthecitybehindthatJettbrokethesilence.

“Whydidyouhavetointervene,Brooke?”Hisvoicewascalmbutangry.
Holycow.
Thathintofasouthernaccentofhiswasevenmoresexywhenhewasangry.
Sohehadbeengivingmethesilenttreatment.Iraisedmychindefiantlyandturnedto

lookathim.Thewayhiselbowrestedagainstthewindow,andhisotherhandwasrelaxedon
thesteeringwheel,hegavetheimpressionofbeingbored—wereitnotforthepulsingnerve
inhistempleandthewayhiseyesstaredaheadatBrian’staillights.

“Weneedtohidesomewhere,”Istatedtheobvious.
“Fuck,Brooke.Youhavenoideahowdangerousthisis.”Alltheangerhebeenhiding

seepedthrough—gradually,likearivuletturningintoariver.“BrianandIhadan
arrangement.IfBrianwantedtobendthesituation,tohellwiththat!”Hisfingersclenchedat
thesteeringwheeluntilhisknucklesshimmeredwhitebeneathhisbronzeskin.“Thisis
exactlywhatI’vebeentryingtoavoid.Ihaditundercontroluntilyouintervened.”

Talkaboutaccusing.
Hissuddenneedtoplaytheblamegamemademeangry.
“Itdidn’tlooklikeyouhadanythingundercontrol,”Isaidquietly.“Itlookedlikeyou

wereabouttogetuskickedout.”

Hepressedhislipsinatightline.HadIgonetoofar?Ididn’tcare.
“Whatdidyouexpect,Jett?Thatyoucouldcomebackandpretendyouneverleftthem?”

HissilencetoldmethatIhadhitasoftspot.

“I’venoideawhatthebigdealwithyouguysis,buttheydon’ttrustyou,justlikeyou

don’ttrustthem,”Icontinued,softer.“Buttheywantyouback.”

“Whotoldyou?”heasked.Imethisglancebeforeheturnedhiseyesbackontheroad.
“Kenny.Andthefactthattheykeptyourcarandthenameonyourlocker.”
Henodded,nonchalant.
“There’ssomethingIhaven’ttoldyouaboutmypast.”Theominoustoneinhisvoice

sentachilldownmyspine.Istraightenedinmyseatandturnedtohimuntiltheseatbelt
tightenedaroundme.“There’sareasonBrianwantsmetorace.LasttimeIdid,therewasan
accidentandsomebodygotkilled.ItwasthereasonwhyIleft.DidKennytellyouthat,too?”

Myheartdroppedinmychest.
Holyshit.
Someonedied?
“No,”Imurmured.“Wedidn’thavemuchtimetotalk.”
“Orheleftitoutonpurpose.”
IheldmybreathasIwaitedforhimtogoonandexplain,butwhenJettdidn’tcontinue,I

realizedhewasn’tgoingtosaymore.

Eitherhestillwasn’treadytodisclosethewholestory,orhedidn’twanttobedistracted.

Thepastwasnothingbutashadowwiththeabilitytocreateemotionalupheaval.MaybeJett
didn’twanttotalkaboutitbecauseitwastooupsetting.Imadeamentalremindertoaskhim
later—ifwesurvivedtherace—anddecidedtochangethesubject.

“Wherearewegoing?”
“Idon’tknow,”Jettsaid,flatly.“Brianchoosesthelocation.”
Forafewminuteswedroveinsilence.Finally,Brian’sbrakelightslitupandthevehicle

sloweddowntotakearightontoopenterrain.Westopped—inthemiddleofnowhere.Jett’s
facewasemotionlessasheswitchedofftheengineandweexitedthecar.Ahalfdozenother
vehiclesfollowedandparkedbehindus.Iwassuremorewouldarrivesoon.

Themoonhidbehindthickraincloudsthatpromisedaheavyshower.Theonlylight

camefromBrian’staillights.Agustofwindwhippedmyhairagainstmyface.Iwrappedmy
armsaroundmeasIwatchedthesceneunfold.

Thisisit.
Ididn’tneedtoask.Mygutfeelingtoldme.
Jett’sfaceremainedanimpenetrablemaskaswewaitedforthegamestobegin.
“Howdoesthiswork?”Iwhispered.
“Threeroundswithvariouscheckpointstomakesurenoone’sbluffing,”Jettwhispered

back.“Thefirstround’salwaysbumpy.Thesecondisallaboutspeed.Thethird’s
unpredictable.Whoevermakesitbackfirstwins.That’saboutit.”

Inodded,eventhoughIhadn’tcaughthalfofwhathesaid.Judgingfromthetenselines

aroundhismouth,hewasnervous.Ididn’tlikeit,becauseJettwasnevernervous.

AguyapproachedandbegantotalksofastIbarelycaughtmorethanafewwords.

Somethingaboutspeedpointsandvariationinroadconditions.Andthenhedepartedagain,
andJettopenedmycardoorsoIcouldenter.

“Hey,Jett,goodluck,man,”someoneyelledbeforeJettslammedthedoorandIfelt

suffocatedbythesmelloftheexpensiveleatherseatsandblindedbythedashboardlightsI
wouldhaveadmiredunderdifferentcircumstances.

Slumpingintohisseat,Jettclosedthedoorandleanedforwardtowhisperinmyear,his

fingersfasteningmyseatbelt.“Ifwecrashorthecarflips,youtrytogetoutassoonasyou
can.”

Heopenedthepassengerseatdrawerandshowedmeasafetyemergencyhammer.“If

thedoor’sstuck,smashinthewindows.Undernocircumstancesstayinside,ornearthecar.
Doyouunderstand?Youhaveexactlytwentysecondstoleave.Nowrepeat.”

Hiseyesprobedminewithanintensitythatscaredme.
“Ifanythinghappens,I’llgetoutofthecarassoonaspossible.”
Henodded.
ButhowcouldIpossiblyleavehiminside?ThatwaswhenIrealizedwhathewas

actuallysaying.

Savemyself,leavehimtohisfate.
Igrimaced.“Inotherwords,ifsomethinghappenstoyou,I’mtoleaveyoubehind?Ican’t

dothat,Jett.”

“Youhaveto,”hesaid,quietly.Hiseyesshimmeredwithasilentplea.“Thiscarisfueled

withhigh-explosivegas.Ifwecrashandanyofitleaks,it’llexplode.Therewon’tbetimeto
saveme.Youdowhateversavesyouandourbaby.”

Hell,no!
“Itdoesn’thavetobethatway,youknow?”Isaid.Ifanythinghappened,IknewI

wouldn’tleave.I’dstaywithhim,nomatterwhat.

“I’mjustsaying.Wehavetotaketheworstintoaccount,”Jettsaid,misunderstanding

me.Hepeeredoutthewindowasmorecarsarrived.

“Jett?”Itouchedhisarmgently,tryingmybesttoinfuseconfidenceinhim.“You’rethe

bestdriverI’veevermet.We’llbeallright.IknowitbecauseIsawitinItaly.There’snoreason
tothinkaboutrisksandwhatcouldhappenwhenIknowwhatyou’recapableof.”

“Itisarisk,Brooke,”Jettsaid,slowly.“WhenImadethatdealwithBrian,Iagreedto

competeagainsthisbestman,butthetruthisIhaven’tbeeninvolvedinthiskindofdriving
foryears.Andheknowsit.ComparedtoItaly,thisisnothing.”

Thatdidn’tsoundatalllikeJett.Hisdoubtsabouthimselfdidn’tmakesensetome.
“Peopledon’tunlearntheirtalents,”Isaid,softly.
“Look.”Heletoutalongimpatientsigh.“Iknowyoumeanwell,Brooke,butyoudon’t

knowDoug.Everythingheknows,helearnedfromme.Heknowsallmytricks,mymoves.And
thefacthewasn’tretiredthesepastfewyearsgiveshimanadvantageoverme.Doyounow
understandwhyIdidn’twantyoutocomealong?”Inodded.“He’sbetterthanme.”

“Youdon’tknowthat,”Iprotested.Jettwasthebest.Kennyhadsaidsohimself,andeven

withoutKenny,Iknewitinmyheart.“Besides,itdoesn’tmatter.Istillwouldhavewantedto
ridewithyou.”

Nomatterwhat.
Heshookhishead.Hehadn’tjustinheritedthehotnessgene;hehadalsoinheritedthe

stubbornnessone.

“EvenifIwerethebest,Iwouldn’twantyouinhere.Yoursafetyisn’tworthtakingthe

risk.”

“Whataboutmyopinion?”Iasked.“Youneveraskedme.”
“Everyonehastomakechoicesatsomepoint,”Jettsaid.“Idowhathastobedone,not

whatIfeelyouwant.”

“Look,thishasnothingtodowithwant.”Iraisedmychindefiantlyatthestubbornglint

inhisgaze.

Weweren’tgoingtoseeeyetoeyeonthisone,andthatwasfine.Ididn’thavetoagree

oneverything.Butitwould’vebeensonice.

“Formecomingwithyouistherightchoice,becauseitmeanswe’recreatinganew

memorytogetherregardlessoftheoutcome.”IsuckedinadeepbreathasIstruggledtofind
therightwords.“Likeyou,Ineedtostaybyyoursidebecauseyoumeaneverythingtome.If
youfall,Ifall,”Iwhispered,repeatinghiswords.“Andifwefall,I’dratherwedoittogether.No
exceptions,noregrets,andthat’sawholelotbetterthantakingachanceandhavingtolive
withoutyou.”

“Youremember?”Heturnedslowly,hiseyespenetratingmysoul,absorbingmywords.

Theloveinhisgazereachedmyheart,coursedthroughmyblood,andswirledinsidemymind.

“OfcourseIdo.”Inodded.“YouaskedmeifItrustedyou,andIcantellyouinallhonesty

thatIdonow.”

Hiseyestwinkledbrighterthanthestarsdottingthenightsky.
“Youhaveaproblemtrustingmydedicationtoyou,butyoutrustmeinalife-and-death

situation?”heaskedindisbelief.Hisdeliciouslipstwitchedatthecorners.Icouldn’thelpbut
smilebecauseitwasthetruth.

Iwantedtoreplywhenhisbrowsshotup.IfollowedhislineofvisionandsawBrian

signalingsomethingbeforeheadingbacktohiscar.

“Threeminutesleft,”Jettsaid,hisattentionturningbacktome.Hishandlingeredonmy

faceashebrushedastrandofhairoutofmyeyes.“You’relikenooneI’vemetbefore,”he
whispered.

“Ihopethat’sagoodthing.”
“Itsureis.”Hesmiled,revealingapairofgorgeousdimplestodiefor.“Ilikethatyou

trustme.Icanworkwiththat.”

Hecuppedmyface,histhumbstrokingmyskinasheleanedintokissme,histongue

meetingmineinatenderembrace.Itbarelylastedafewseconds,andyetitwasthebestkiss
ofmylife.

“Itrulybelieveyou’rethegreatestthingthat’severhappenedtome,”Jettsaidsoftly,

“andthere’snothingI’deverchangeaboutyou.Youknowthat,right?”

Hekissedmeagain.Itwasonlywhenheleanedbacktopullonhisglovesandturnthe

keythatIrealizedourkissmighthavebeenourlast.

Chapter 24

ITWASN’TTHEroarofJett’scar,northefiredshotsignalingthestartoftheracewhat

sentmyintestinesintoicyknots.ItwasthemomentablackcarpulledupnexttousthatI
knewthetimehadcome.

Thepassengerwindowrolleddown,andDoug’sgazemetmine.Hewasinhisearly

twenties,withblondcurlyhairthatfellintohisblueeyes.Hisfeatureswereroughened,and
hisposturewasconfident.Butwhatmademewarywastheself-assuredsmileonhislips.It
wasn’tsomuchasmileasasmirk.Jettnoddedandletoutalowchuckle.InthatinstantIknew.
Twomenengagedinabattleofegosequaledahellofaride.AndIwastrappedinsidethis
nightmarewithnowayout.Jettspedupandchangedgears,themusclesinhisarmsstraining.
Hedidn’tseembotheredbythewayDoug’scarkeptcomingtooclose—orthatDougbumped
intoourcarwhenheovertookusshortlybeforewereachedthefirstcross-point.

Someonemadeahandsignal.DougturnedtotheleftandJettfollowed.IexpectedJettto

swear,butinsteadhehitthepedalsharderandwespedoff.Nosignsofhisnervousness.My
fingersburiedinthearmrestwhenthetireshitabumpintheroadandIshotforwardagainst
theseatbelt.Iwantedtoscream,butthesoundremainedtrappedinmythroat.Jettneededmy
support.Heneededmytrust,becausedoubtandfearwouldtakeusnowhere.

Butfearchokedme,mademegaspforairandwishI’dneverhavetosetfootinacar

again.

Ihatedthewaythecarkeptjerkingaftereachbumpandtheengineroaredlikeitmight

beabouttodrawitslastbreath.Everymuscleinmybodyhurt,andmymindwasspiraling
intoagiantholeofpanic.Eachsecondfeltlikeaneternity.Atthesecondcross-point,Jett
overtookDoug.AdrenalinepulsedthroughmeasIrealizedwestillhadachancetowin.Jett
knewwhathewasdoing,andhisfocusgavemecourage.Weweresoclose.SonearIcould
alreadyseetheheadlightsofcountlesscarsmarkingthefinishline.Soonmyordealwouldbe
over.

IrecognizedBrian’sblueFerrariinthedistance.Hewasleaningcasuallyagainsthiscar,

thelightsilluminatinghisfeatures.Wewerealmostthere,barelyahundredfeet.Fiftyfeet.But
Jettdidn’tslowdown.Hewasgoingwaytoofast.Ifhedidn’tstopintime,we’dcrashinto
Brian’scar.

“Slowdown,”Ishouted.Hedidn’tacknowledgemycommand.Washesohighon

adrenalinethathedidn’trealizewhatwasabouttohappen?

“Jett!”Iscreamed,bracingmyself.“You’regoingtokillhim.”
“It’sokay.”Hedidn’tseemaffectedinanyway.Myheartdropped.InhorrorIwatched

Brianjumpoutoftheway.Justintime,Jettswervedthewheelanddrovepasthiscarandthe
finishline.

“Serveshimrightfordraggingyouintothis,”hemumbled,andhittheacceleratoragain.
Ishookmyheadathisstuntandletoutasighofreliefthatnothingbadhadhappened.

Andwewerethefirsttoreachthefinishline,meaningwehadwon.IturnedtoJett.Hisfingers
remainedclenchedaroundthesteeringwheel.

“Whereareyougoing?”Iasked,frowning.
“Backtothecity.”Hiscalmtone,whichIsuspectedwassupposedtocomfortme,only

managedtoalertme.

Whywouldhedriveallthewaybacktothecitywhenweweresupposedtopickuphis

awardorwhatever?

Inarrowedmyeyes.“Ithoughtyouweregoingtostop.Yousaidsoyourself.”
“Yes.”Hedraggedouttheword,notlookingatme.“Onceit’sover.Theraceisn’tfinished

yet.”Hetookaleftontothemainroad.Inthedistancestretchedouttheilluminatedhighway
andtheNewYorkskyline.

“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Therulesare:whoeverarrivesfirst,wins.”
“What?”
Hewantedtodriveallthewaybackthroughthecity?Throughthetraffictothe

warehouses?Howthehellwouldhewinwithoutgettingaspeedingticket?Orworseyet,
becomingfamousonnationalTV?Inmymind,Icouldalreadyseeahelicoptercirclingoverus,
relayingthenewsthatadriverhadrunamok,andpeoplebeingwarnedtostayoffthestreets.
We’dbeallovernationalTV.Somuchforkeepingalowprofile.

“But—”Ishookmyhead,realizingthefinishlinewasthewarehouseandweweretaking

adetour.Whathewasabouttodowascrazy.Icheckedtherearviewmirror.Dougfollowed
closelybehind.

“Youthoughtit’dbethateasy?”Jettasked,answeringmyunspokenquestion.
“Youcallthateasy?”Imuttered.“I’dsaycrazy,insaneeven.”Iclaspedmyhandovermy

mouth.Thetruthcrippledme.Apparently,Jetthadeveryintentionofcontinuingthismadness
throughthebusystreetsofNewYorkCity.“Oh,God.”

“Iwarnedyou,”hesaid.Weovertookonecarandthenanother.AfterafewminutesJett

hitthebrakes.Wesloweddowntobelowthespeedlimit.IshotJettaconfusedlook.Doug
drovepast.Jettdidn’tseemtonotice.Whenwehaltedinthemiddleoftheroad,Iknew
somethingwaswrong.AsmuchasIwantedtobelieveJetthadstoppedbecauseofme,I
couldn’tshakeoffthefeelinghe’dnevergiveup.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Iasked.Dougdisappearedinthedistance.Judgingbythewayhe

woundhiswaythroughtraffic,he’deithercrashorwin.Carsstackedupbehindus,butJett
ignoredthem—andme.

“Jett?”Myfingersbarelytouchedhisarm.“What’swrong?”
“DidyounoticeDougstayedonourtailbutdidn’ttakethelead—untilnow?Hethinkshe

cancatchupintheend,whichispossible,giventhatit’soneofthetricksItaughthim.I’m
devisingadifferentstrategy.”Hepeeredatmebrieflybeforeturninghisattentiononthe
rearviewmirror.

Ifearedtheanswer,butfeltcompelledtoask.“Whichis?”
“Ashortcuthedoesn’tknow,”Jettsaidcalmly.
Ah.
SomehowIdidn’tlikeitbecause,knowingJett,shortcutswerenever“shortcuts”asin

“theeasyway.”

Ididn’tjustsuspect.
Iknew.
Doughadalmostdisappearedfrommyvision,butifIcranedmyneckIcouldstillsee

himstuckataredlight.Jammedinwithothercars,hecouldn’tpossiblyfollowJett.

“It’snotsomuchashortcutasaplan,”Jettcontinued.Thatsoundedevenworse.“We’re

takingthesameroute,onlytheoppositeway.”

Ihadnoideawhathewastalkingabout,buthadnotimetoaskbecauseJettwentinto

fullreverse.Thecarspunaround,earningusmorehonks,buthedidn’tseemparticularlyfazed
bytheswearingdriversashenavigateddownanarrowstripoflawn,swervingstraightinto
oncomingtraffic.

“Areyoufuckingcrazy?”Ishouted.
Ignoringme,heflooredtheaccelerator,andthecarjerkedforward.Weweredrivingso

fastIwantedtocry.InsteadImadedowithburyingmynailsintothesoftleatherofmyseat.
Mybreathcameinlaboredheaveseachtimecarsdroveoutofourwaytoletuspass,orwe
dodgedthem.

“Pleasestop,”IwhisperedinthehopeJettmightlistentomeforachange.
“Wecan’t.Thisistheonlyway.”
“ButDoug’sstuck,”Iargued.“Canyouatleast—”
Slowdown.
Jettshotmeastrangelook,andIclampedmymouthshuttostopmyselffromwhining.

AtanintersectionJetttookasharpleftintoaquietone-wayroad.Straightaheadwasthemain
road.

Wewereinthecity.
Somanypeople,somanycars.Jettdidn’tseemconcernedashecontinuedtorace

throughthestreets.IcaughttheflashingbluelightsofapolicecarbeforeIheardthesiren.

“Shit!”Jettflooredthegaspedal,turningthewheelexpertlyashecrossedaredlight.The

policecarfollowedbehind.

“Weneedtostop,Jett.”MyvoicecamesolowIwasn’tsureheheardme.
“Wecan’t.Trustme,we’llgetoutofthis.”
Oh,God.
Hisshortcutinvolveddrivinglikeamadman.IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,Icould’vesworn

thebrakesweren’tworking.

“Relax,”Jettwhispered,hisvoicewasstrainedbutbynomeansnervous.Ialwaysknew

Jettwasarisk-taker.NowIrealizedtheguywascrazybeyondmywildestdreams,becausehe
apparentlythoughtanyonecouldrelaxwithhimbehindthewheel.

Relax?
Ifeltphysicallysick.Infact,IprayedI’djustpassoutandwakeupwhenthenightmare

wasover.Myheartpoundedhardagainstthelayeroffrostspreadingoverme.Iburiedmy
faceinmyhandsandstartedtochantinmymind.

Staycalm.Bequiet.Breathein.Breatheout.Thinkofsunshine,ofcalmingwaters,the

soundofseagulls.Thinkofviolins,ofheaven.

No.Badidea.Ididn’twanttothinkofheaven.
Thinkofwalkingonthebeach.Healthy.WithJettandababy.Happy.Alive.
“Oh,God,”Imuttered.“Oh,God.”
Myfearintensifiedandtransformedintoagrowingchillthatcouldturnintoiceand

shattermeintopieces.ThecarchaseinItalyhadbeenbad.Ithadbeenhorrendous.ButJett
racingthroughNewYorkCity’sstreetswithapolicecartrailinguswasalivingnightmare.

“Baby,justcloseyoureyes,”Jettsaid.
Closemyeyesandpretenditwasn’thappening?Thathadbeentheplanallalong.
“I’mtrying,”Imuttered.
“Justcontinuetokeepthemclosed,”hereplied,encouragingly.
“Oh,God,”Imuttered.“Oh,God.”

Please,please,please,Iprayed.Helpuswin.Helpusarrivesafely.Helpusmakeitoutalive.

Helpthatnobodygetshurt.

CouldIhavethatmanydifferentwishesatthesametime?
“Theylostus,”Jettsaidatlast.Confused,Iopenedmyeyes.Hehadsloweddownandwe

werecruisingahalf-emptyparkinggarage.

Thesirensechoedinthedistance.
Jettdroveoutofthebuilding,pastseveralblocks,andturnedontoahighwayforafew

minutes.IrecognizedbuildingsinthedistancebeforeJettexitedthehighwayanddrovealong
thefence.Tomyutterdisbelief,wehadmadeitunscathed.

Ifrowned.
“Isthat—”
Thewarehouse,IwantedtoaskuntilIsawJettturningthewheel,spinningthecar.He

flooredthegasanddrovepastthegates.Thefinishlinehadtobeontheotherside.Inthe
distanceIcouldseecarheadlights.Jetthitthebrakes,andthetiresscreeched.Myheadjerked
forward,andapangofpainshotupmyspine.

Ismirked.Myeyesfellonthecrowdofpeople.Theylookedsurprised,asthoughthey

didn’texpectustocomefromtheback.Andthenthecheersbeganandmorepeoplegathered.
Jettignoredthemashedroveintotheopengarage.Doug’scarwasn’tthere.Jettswitchedoff
theengineandturnedtofaceme.Hisdarkhairstucktohistemples,andsweatrivuletswere
runningdownhisneck.

MylegsweretremblingsohardIpressedmysolesintothefloortostopthemfrom

shaking.Mywholebodyfeltnumb.

“We’vewon,”Jettsaid,calmly.Wasthatahintofpride?“Youokay?”Ishookmyhead,

becauseIwasn’tokay.“Don’tworry,wehaveafakelicenseplate.”Thecornersofhislips
curvedupward.SoIhadbeenright.Hewasproud.Maybeevenelated.

“Aspeedingticketisn’twhatI’vebeenworriedabout,”Imuttered.
Furyburnedinsideme—atJett’srecklessdriving,athiswholealpha“Idoeverythingto

win”attitude,andatamillionotherthings.Howcouldhesmilewhenbarelysecondsagohe’d
scaredthehelloutofGodknowshowmanypeople,includingme?

“Ifuckinghate—”Istruggledforwords,theshockrenderingmeunabletoforma

coherentsentence.

“Howmuchyouloveme?”Hisdimplesappeared,andforamomentIfelttornbetween

hittinghimandkissinghim.

Istaredathim,andthenIstartedtolaugh.
“Yeah.Ido,andhowcrazyisthat?”Iknewitwashysteriaandtheadrenalinepumping

insidemyveins.That,orgratitudethatwewerestillalive.

Ididn’tknowwhatcameoverme,butseeinghimhotandsweaty,withthatamusedglint

inhisdevilishgreeneyes,Iwantedhim.Iwantedhimbadly.Madly.Furiously.AndIdidn’tcare
ifithappenedhere,rightonthespot,andifhisegogrewskyhigh.Iclimbedovertohisside
andmovedontopofhim.Myfingersburiedinhishairasmylipsdescendeduponhismouth
withthekindofhungerthatdemandedimmediategratification.

“Iknewtherewasawickedsidetoyou,MissStewart,”Jettwhisperedagainstmymouth,

andpulledback.

“Youforgotcrazy.Iwascrazytocomewithyou.IwascrazytothinkIcouldmakeitout

withmysanityintact,”Isaid.“I’llneverdoanythinglikethisagain.”

“Never?”Hiseyebrowsshotupinmocksurprise.“Whathappenedto‘noexceptions,no

regrets’?Ireallylikedthatone.Itsortofgavemeleveragetotrynewthingswithyou.”

Ishookmyhead.“I’lldoanythingforyou,butnocarraces.Nomorestunts.”
“Ilikeachallenge.Youknowthat.”Hegrinned.“Accordingtoourarrangementandmy

rules,Istillhaveseveralhoursleft.”

Igroaned.
Notthathorrendousbetagain!
“You’vewon.Getoverit,”Imumbled.
“Justonemorestunt,baby.”Hiseyestwinkled.Ishookmyhead.“Howaboutyouletme

changeyourmind?”

“Nicetry,butI’llpass.”I’dhadenoughofanadrenalinerushtolastmealifetime.
“I’veheardsecondtimesaroundcanbeprettygood,too,”Jettsaid.“Let’ssneakoutof

thepartyandspendtimetogether.It’slongoverdue,anyway.”

Thewayhesaidit,hemadeitsoundlikeadate.Wehadn’tgoneonadateinforever.

Actually,sincebreakingintoKimDessen’shouse.Butitsurefeltlikeaneternity.“What
party?”Iasked.

“Callitawelcomeparty,”Jettwhispered.“Timetomeetmygang.”Ihadnoideawhathe

wastalkingabout,buttheprospectofspendingmoretimewithhimsoundedtempting.

“Letmetakeashowerfirst,”Isaid.“Andnomorestunts,Mayfield.Ireallymeanit.”
“Nostunts,Ipromise.”Hegrinned.
Irolledmyeyes.Hadn’tIheardthatonebefore?
“Atleastforawhile,”Jettadded.
Mysmilematchedhisashepulledmetohimforanotherkiss.

Chapter 25

THEUPPERFLOORSofthewarehouseswereconvertedintobedrooms.Brianhad

arrangedthatJettandIwouldtakeashowerandchangeinaroomupstairs,whichwaspretty
muchtheoppositeofhowIenvisionedit:tinybuttastefullydecoratedincreamandbrown
withanadjacentbathroomandashowercubicle.Afour-posterbedlinedtheeastside.Asoft
creamcouchwassetupinthemiddleinfrontofaTVsetmountedonthewall.Everything
lookedneatandtidy.Whoeverhaddecorateditobviouslyhadtaste.

“Thisusedtobemyroom,”Jettsaid.
“Really?”Thatreallychangedeverything.Ispunaroundslowly,tryingtotakeinthe

detailsImight’vemissed.Iwalkedovertothebedandlaydown.Themattresswassoftand
thecoverssmelledfresh,asthoughthey’dbeenchangedrecently.Therewerenopictureson
thewalls,butforsomereason,IcouldfeelayoungerJett’spresence,hisspiritandattitude.He
hadbeentormented,yethehadalsobeenhappy.

“Ilikeithere,”Isaid,softly.“I’mhappywegettostayforawhile.”
Someone—IassumedSylvie—hadbroughtoverclothesandassoonasIclosedthe

bathroomdoorbehindme,Istrippedoffandsteppedintotheshower,eagertoletthehot
waterrelaxmytensemusclesandcalmmyfrayednerves.

IhadbarelyshampooedandrinsedmyhairwhenthebathroomdooropenedandIsaw

Jett’ssilhouetteclearlyoutlinedthroughthecurtain.Hetookhisclothesoffandpeeredbehind
thecurtain,hisimpossiblygreengazeamixturebetweenhesitationanddesire.

“Brooke.”Hisdeepvoicesayingmynamesentajoltoffirebetweenmylegs.“Iwantto

dosomethingdirtytoyou.Somethingyou’llneverforget.”

Mypulsepickedupinspeed,andarushofexcitementwashedoverme.
“Whatdoyouhaveinmind?”Iwhispered.
Hepushedtheshowercurtainasideandjoinedmeinthecubicle,nakedinallhisglory.

Mymouthwentdryatthebeautyofhissculptedbodywithbulgingmusclesbeneathtautskin.

Sexincarnate.
Asthoughreadingmydirtythoughts,Jettsmiled,andourmouthsmetinaheatedkiss.

Histongueslippedinsideme,prodding,demandingthatIopenupandgivehimwhatwashis
totake.Atthesametime,hishandsettledbetweenmylegs.Imoanedwhenhestartedto
circlemyclit.Hedidn’tjustmakemewet;hemademeacheforhisfingersinsideme,totouch
himandtestifhewasreal.

Myfingertipsgrazedhisswellingshaft.
“You’returningmeon,baby.”Hiswhisperturnedintoagutturalraspwhenmyfingers

begantoworkupanddownhishardeningshaft,mirroringhismovementsashisfingers
circledfasteraroundmyclit,untilIfeltIcouldn’tbearitanymore.

“Iwantyouinsideme,”Imoanedagainsthismouth.
“Notyet.”
Heliftedmyleftleg,andIletgoofhisbulgingerectiontoholdontohisshouldersfor

support.Eversoslowlyhebegantothrustonefingerinsideme,thentwo,ignitingablaze.

Oh,God.
Waterkeptpouringdownonus,andIwassurethatwasn’ttheonlythingrunningdown

myleg.Mybodybegantorockbackandforthagainsthim,seekingthepleasureonlyhecould
unleash.Hepushedtwofingersinandout,fastandfurious.Imoanedandleanedintohishand,

readyforcompleteabandon.JustwhenIthoughthe’dtakemeovertheedge,Jettsloweddown
—unbearablyhot,unbearablypainful—andthenpulledout.Hisfingerscontinuedtocirclemy
clitwithoutgivingmethereleaseIdesperatelyneeded.

“More,”Isaid.“Iwantyoutofuckmenow.”
Itwasn’tanoption;itwasademand.
“Asyouwish.”Hiseyesboredintomeashepressedmeagainstthetiledwallandforced

myleftleguphigher.Icouldfeeltheslickheadofhiserectionatmyentrance,circlingand
nudging,doinganythingbutfillingme.Impatiently,Istirredagainsthim,myeyesbegginghim
totakeme.

“Isthiswhatyou’relookingfor?”Hepushedtheheadinsideme,stretchingthesoftflesh,

whilekissingmyearlobe.Myheartalmoststoppedfromthesuddenswelteringsensation
gatheringdeepinmyabdomen.Iwassoclose.Justafewmoreinches.

“More,”Iwhispered.
Hiserectionplungedanotherinchintome,teasingmebymovinggently,buildingthe

momentumuntilIfeltlikecursinghimfortorturingme.

“Fuck,Jett!”Iswore.“You’rekillingme.”
Helaughedthatdeeplaughofhisthatalwaysmademetingleallover.“Asyouwish.”
Igaspedasheshovedhisentirelengthintome—fastanddetermined.Onefullthrust.My

fleshtightenedaroundhisshaft.Thepainofhimhittinganachingspotinsidemedisappeared
quickly,andmorepleasurebegantobuildinsidemyabdomen.Consumingme.Burningmy
insideslikehotlava.

Hequivered,alivewithfire,waiting…waitingforwhat?
Mymindwastoocloudedtoaskaquestion,toohighfromhisscentandthetasteofhis

mouth,toostarvedfromhistouch.

Ineededhim.Hehadtobemoving.HehadtobeforeIexploded.Orelse…
Igroundmyhipsagainsthiminneedofmore.Mythighmusclesbegantohurtfromthe

effort,butIdidn’tmind.Ineededrelease,andifhewouldn’tgiveittome,thenIwasreadyto
takeit.

“Icouldstayinsideyouforever,”Jettwhispered—almostdreamy,almostregretful.He

circledhishipswithoutthrusting.“Rememberthefeelingofmeinsideyou.We’retogether.
Notyou,norme,butus.”

Therawnessofhishotwordssentanotherripplethroughmycore,pushingmecloserto

thebrinkofanorgasm.Itfeltgood.Hewassogood.Iwantedtotellhim.Asifsensingmy
desireforhim,hesmiled.OureyeslockedwithsuchintensityIfeltlostinthem,unabletotell
whereIendedandhebegan.

“YouknowIcan’tdeclinewhenyou’relikethis.”Hislipscrushedmine.“Sowet.Baby,I

coulddothisforever.”

Finally,hisentirelengthbegantomove.Icouldfeeleveryhardinchofhimgetting

bigger,fillingandstretchingme.Pushingmyboundaries.

Moaningintomyopenmouth,hebegantothrust,firstslowandthenhardandharder.

Fasterandfaster,sendingmyworldintoawhirlwindoflustandexhilaration.Iclosedmyeyes
tosavorthesensationastheroombegantospinaroundus.AllIcouldfeelwasthehardness
ofhisbodyspearingme.

“Jett.”Mybreathquickened,andIplummetedintoaseaofecstasy.Fromtheperiphery

ofmymindIheardhisfinalmoanandfelthishotmoisturespillingdeepinside.Mybody

meltedintohim,trustinghimforsupport,ashiswavesofpleasurewashedoverme,takingus
bothtonewshores.

Ididn’tknowhowlongwestoodinthatshower,ourbodiesmerged,thewatercooling

ourfeverishskin.Eventually,whenthewaterbegantoturncoldasice,westeppedoutofthe
shower,drippingalloverthefloor.Mylegswereshakingfromtheeffort,butmyheartbeathad
sloweddowntoanormalspeed.

“Thankyou,”Iwhispered,solowIdidn’tthinkJettwouldhearme.
“Forwhat?”Hewrappedmeinatowelandkissedthetipofmynose.
Forbeingamazing.
Ishruggedandsmiled,keepingmythoughtstomyself.

Chapter 26

BYTHETIMEwefinallyarrived,thepartywasinfullswing.Theentirefirstfloorwas

abuzzwithpeople,Dougincluded,andmorewerefloodinginbytheminute.Anindieband
wasplayinginthecorner.Theairwasthickwithcigarettesmoke.Thetableswerelittered
withalcoholbottles,half-emptyglasses,andsnacks,remindingmeofmycollegedays.
Everyoneseemedtobeenjoyingthemselves.Itwasgoingtobealongnight,Icouldseethat.

Jettledmethroughthecrowd,hispossessivehandrestingonthesmallofmyback.I

noddedeventhoughIcouldn’thearawordhesaidandcontinuedtoscantheroomforSylvie
—withoutmuchsuccess.WemadeitovertoBrian.Agirlsatonhislap.Irecognizedherasthe
onewhohadurgedmetohurrywithchangingintotheracingsuit.Themomentshesawus
approaching,shestoodandleft.

Ifrowned.
Notonlydidshenotlikeme,shehadnoproblemsshowingit.
“Goodjob.”BrianpattedJettontheshoulderandthenturnedtoaddressme.“People

owemeashitloadofmoney.IknewJettwouldwin.”

Soitwasallaboutmoney?
Jettcockedhiseyebrow.“Didyoualsobetonwinningthedrinkinggametonight?”
“Areyouchallengingme?”Brianlaughedoutloud.“’CauseI’machampalltheway.Ihave

ahightolerancelevel.Nofuckingwayyou’dbeatme.”

“WhosaidI’min?”Jettsaid.“Nodrinksformetonight,butIknowsomeonewho’dknock

youoffyourfeet.”

“Incaseyou’veforgotten,I’mIrish,”Briansaid.“I’vewonagainsteveryone.”
“Exceptforyoursister.”Jettnoddedatthered-hairedwomanstandingbehindBrian.

“She’sintown,visiting.”

Brianturned,hissmilegone.“Crap.”
“Mymoney’swellinvested.”Jettshotmeareassuringsmile,andIknewhewasn’tbeing

serious.“She’sgoingtostripyouofyourtitlebigtime.”

“Hellotoyou,too,bigguy.”ThewomansmiledatJettandturnedtome.Herhazeleyes

reflectedhercuriosity,buttherewassomethingelseinthem—warmth,whichledmeto
believeJettandshehadbeenfriends,andnothingbutfriends.“Newsspreadsfast.WhenI
heardyouwereback,Ihadtocomeandseeformyself.”

“Brooke,”Isaid,reachingout.Shegrabbedmyhandandgaveitagoodshake.Fora

moment,wejustlookedateachother,assessing.Shewasinhermidthirties,withafull-
bodiedvoluptuousfigure,paleskin,freckles,andaninfectioussmile.Idecidedtolikeher
instantly.

“I’mCassidy,”shesaid.“I’vealreadyheardsomuchaboutyou.Thebastardswho’reafter

youwillpay.”IttookmeamomenttorealizeshewastalkingaboutAlessandro’sclub.“Brian
knowshowtofindthem.He’slikeabloodhound.”Sheroaredwithlaughter.

“Ihopeso,”Isaid.“JettandIcoulddowithalittlepeace.”Cassidy’sgazebrushedmy

abdomen,andshenoddedknowingly.Iwonderedhowshe’dfoundout,butinsteadofaskingI
justsmiled.

WechatteduntilBrianhitthestage,drawingeveryone’sattentiontousbydeclaringJett

asthewinneroftherace,asiftheworlddidn’tknowalready,andthenhewentontorecount
Jett’slittlestunt,includingourcaralmostcrashingintoBrian’sFerrari.Theroomfilledwith

laughter,Brian’sincluded.Brianfinallyleftthestage,andpeoplefloodedovertocongratulate
Jett,Dougamongthem.IsteppedasidetogiveJetthismoment.Eithertheracehadchanged
everything,ormaybeeveryonehadbeenwaitingforBrian’sapproval,buttheicewasbroken.

ForthefirsttimeIsawJettrelaxedandeasy-goinginapublicgathering.Asiftheperson

beforemewasn’ttheJettMayfieldIknew—therich,reticentmillionairewhoseonlypurpose
wastoensurethesuccessofhiscompany.Kennyhadbeenright.ThegangwasJett’sfamily.
Jetthadmoreincommonwiththemthanhemighteverrealizebecausetheyhadshapedhim.
Theyhadhelpedhimafterhisfatherkickedhimout.Fortheumpteenthtime,Iwondered
whathadgonesohorriblywrongthatJettreturnedtohisfather.

“Wanttoleave,baby?”Jettwhisperedinmyear.“Youlooksogoodinyourtightjeans

you’returningmeon.”Asthoughtoprovehispoint,hishandbrushedmyassandhislips
grazedthesensitiveskinonmyneck.Adeliciousjoltpulsedthroughme.Ifitweren’tforthe
dozenpeoplearoundus,Iwould’verippedopenhisshirtandpulleddownhispantstoenjoy
hisgloriousbody.

“We’vejustarrivedandyouwanttoleavealready?”Iasked,amused.“Whathappenedto

partyingthroughthenight?”

“Isthatatrickquestion?”Hishoarsetonesentanothershiverthroughmybody.Slowly

hebegantonibbleonmyearlobe.“WhenIwantsomething,Idon’twait.”

“Youtakeit.Gotit.”Iswallowedandturnedaround,facinghisdeepgreeneyesthecolor

ofsin.“Whatareyousuggesting?”

“Ihaveagoodidea,MissStewart.”Heattraveledsomewheresouthattheinsinuationin

hisvoice.“Letmeshowyousomethingthatwillmakeyourpantieswet.”

Again?
Hegrabbedmyhandandmotionedformetofollowhim.Wewerealmostoutthedoor

whenBrianblockedourway.

“Didanyoneshowyouyourwayaround?”Brianasked,addressingme.
“Noneed,”Jettsaidthroughgrittedteeth.DidIdetectahintofirritation?
“ButIinsist.”
IshruggedatJett,whoshotmeaglare.Ishruggedagain.ThiswasBrian’sterritory,and

hewasproudofwhathehadbuilt.Wewereguests,soobviouslywehadtobehaveassuch.
Jettcouldtakeoffhispantslater.

“Soundsgreat,”Isaid.“Leadtheway.”
Briantalkedallthewaythroughthetour,whileJett’smoodseemedtoplummettoanall-

timelow.Amused,Igapedatthehugenessoftheplace.Thewarehouseswereinterconnected
byasubterraneanmazeofcorridors,whichIhadalreadysuspected.Theupperfloorshadall
beenconvertedtoroomsandapartments.Fromoutsidethewallslookedliketheymightbe
abouttocrumble,buttheinteriordesignshowedBrianhadsparednoexpense.Thefurniture
wasminimalisticbutmodernandexpensive,thetechnologyhigh-tech.Abstractpaintingsin
redandbluewithgoldenswirlshungonthewalls,eachshowingthesamesignature.I
wonderedifoneoftheguyswasanartist.

“Youalllivehere?”Iasked,impressed.
“Someofus.Othersprefertheirownplace,”Briansaid,andopenedthenextdoor,

leadingusintoahugelivingroomwithafireplaceandyetmorepaintingsdisplayedonthe
walls.“You’rewelcometostayhereforaslongasyouwant.Thetopfloorisallyours.”

“Myoldroomwilldojustfine,Brian,”Jettmuttered.

“Ithoughtyourgirlmightprefersomethingmore—”Briandrewalongbreath,

consideringhiswordsasheregardedme“—upscale.”

“Weappreciateit,”Isaid.“ButI’dlovetostayinJett’soldroom,ifthat’sokay.”
Jett’sarmwrappedaroundmywaist.IfIdidn’tknowbetter,Iwouldhavesaidhewas

pleasedwithmyanswer—andpossessive.

“Ifyouneedanything,letmeknow.”BrianhesitatedandturnedtoJett.“CanIhavea

minutewithyou?”

IwonderediftalkingwithJettinprivatewasthereasonwhyBrianhadinsistedon

comingwithus.

“Sure.”
“Takeaslongasyouneed,”Isaidtothem.ThedoorshutandIwasalone,butIcouldhear

theirvoicesloudandclear.

“I’vearrangedforameetingtomorrowtofindoutwhotheunidentifiedrecipientis.How

muchmoneyarewetalkingabout?”Brianasked.

“Fiftymill,”Jettreplied.
“Fuckinghell.”
“Thecompany’sgoingbankrupt.”Jetthesitated.“I’maCEO.IfIdon’tsortoutthismess,I

couldbeheldliable.Icouldloseeverything;mymoney,myhome,myinvestorsinthenew
company,myreputation.ButfirstIneedyoutofocusonfindingoutwho’sresponsiblefor
Brooke’skidnapping.”

“We’reworkingondecodingthedisk,”Briansaid.“Giveusacoupleofdays.”
“Idon’thavedays.Ineeditassoonaspossible.Myfatherwantedthebook,soitmustbe

valuable.Aslongaswedon’tknowwhowe’redealingwith,Brooke’snotsafe.”

“Soyou’reassumingyourfather’sinonit?Whatifhehadnochoice?”
“Don’tgivemethatcrap,Brian.Youknowthere’snootherexplanation.Mybestguessis

hetransferredthemoneytokeepsomeforhimself.However,thequestioniswhy?Ineedto
knowifthere’sanythingwedon’tknow.Ineedyoutocheckoutpossiblerisks.ThelastthingI
wantismyfathergettingusintodeepershitthanwe’realreadyin.”

“We’llkeepyouupdated.”
“Good,”Jettsaid.
ForaminutetheytalkedaboutCassidy.IwalkedovertothebedassoonasIheard

footstepscrossingtheroom.ThedooropenedandJettentered.

“Howmuchdidyouhear?”heaskedafterheclosedthedoorbehindhim.
Iwinced,unabletohidemyguiltyexpression.“HowdidyouknowIwaslistening?”
“Itwasn’thardtoguess.Iknowyou,Brooke.BesidesIdon’twanttokeepsecretsfrom

you.”Hetiltedhishead,scrutinizingme.“So,howmuch?”

“Almosteverything,actually.ButIalreadyknowthatMayfieldRealitiesaretrouble,so

it’snobigdeal,”Iadmitted.“Yourbrothermentionedthatyouwereworkingonsettingupa
newcompany.”

Helookedup,surprised.“Andwhatareyourthoughts?”
“I’mthinkingyou’regoingtobegreat,”Iwhispered.“Manypeopledon’tknowwhento

cuttheirlosseswhenit’sover.Theychoosetostayinadead-endsituationuntileverything
comescrashingdownonthem.You’redoingtherightthing,Jett.”

“Sacrificesbeforelosses.I’mhappyyougetme,”hesaid.“I’msorryIdidn’ttellyouabout

themissingmoneysooner.”

Ishrugged.“It’sokay.Iwould’velovedtohelpyou,though.”
“IcoulduseyourexpertopinionineverythingIdo,MissStewart.Howmuchdoyou

charge?”

“Alot.”Mygrinmatchedis.“AndIknowexactlyhowyoucanrepayme.”Ipointedatthe

couchbehindus.“Brianwaskindenoughtogiveusaniceroom.Wecouldcommenceour
negotiationsrightnow.”

Iwalkedovertothecouch.Jettfollowedmeandsatdown,pullingmeontohislap.His

handspushedasidemyhairtocaressthenapeofmyneck.Iclosedmyeyes,relishinghis
touch.

“Toobadwe’renotstayingforlong,”hesaid.
“Whynot?”
“Istilldon’ttrustthem.It’stoodangerousforyou.Andsecond—”Hisbreathtickledmy

skinamomentbeforehislipspartedinatenderkiss.“Iwanttospendqualitytimewithyou.”

Iturnedtoregardhim.“Brianhelpedyoufindme.He’stryingtolocateyourfatherand

findoutwhattheclub’sallabout.Don’tyouthinkyou’reoverreactingalittlebitwiththe
wholetrustissuething?”

“It’snotthatsimple,”Jettsaidgrimly.
Well,itsortofwastome.
Therewassomethinginhisexpressionthatmademeclampmymouthshutandlisten.

Hewasangry.Butwhy?Wasn’thehappytobebackintouchwithhisoldfriends?

“Idon’tunderstand,Jett.Thisusedtobeyourfamily.”Iremovedmyselffromhislapand

kneeledbeforehim,myelbowsrestingagainsthisknees,asIlookedathim.“Youguysshare
somanymemories.Ithoughtyou’dwanttospendtimewiththem.”

Hisfaceresembledagrimmask.SomethingI’dsaidwaswrong,anditmademymind

frantictofigureoutmymisstep.Itouchedhislegtogethisattention.Jettdidn’treact.

“I’msorry,”Isaid,unsurewhatIwasapologizingfor.“Doyouwanttotellmewhat’s

goingon?”

Thesilencebetweenusseemedoppressing.Voicecarriedoverfromoutsidethedoor—

thechatter,music,andlaughterbuildingastrongcontrasttowhatwasgoingoninsideJett’s
tormentedsoul.IcouldsensethatifIprobedtoohard,I’dgotoofar,andIdidn’twanttopush
him.IwatchedJett’sfingerscurlaroundthepictureframeonthesidetable.Onitwereagroup
ofmensittingaroundabonfire.Withhistannedbodyandgorgeousdimples,IrecognizedJett
instantly.IbitmylipasItriedtoimaginewhatcouldhavecausedJett’ssuddenchangein
mood.

“Ikilledmybestfriend,”hesaid,asthoughreadingmythoughts.HisvoicewassolowI

wasn’tsureI’dheardhimright.Hisfingerpointedatablondmansittingnexttohim,holdinga
beerinhishandandlaughing.

“Wasitanaccident?”Iasked,breathlessly.Ithadtobe.Anythingelsewouldn’tmake

sense.

“No.”Heshookhisheadslowly.“Notreally.”Hisvoicewasraw,andhiseyesfilledwith

moisture.Hisfacereflectedsomuchpainthatitseepedfromhiseverypore.Thethoughtthat
Jettwasakillerdidn’tquitefitthepictureinsidemymind.Icouldn’timaginehimdoing
anythingterrible,andyetIknewitwaspossible.Somewhereinthebackofmymind,I
rememberedthegunshots.SomehowIknewJetthadshotthemenwhohadbeenaboutto
rapeme.Ifithappenedonce,therewasatleastsomepossibilityJetthadhurtpeoplebefore.

Inthesilenceoftheroom,myglancemovedfromJetttothepictureinhishands.It

seemedtohavebeentakenaneternityago.ButIcouldn’taskthequestionburningaholein
mybrain.InsteadIwaitedpatientlyuntilhewasready.

“Joedidstupidstuff,”Jettbegan.Hiswordscameslowly,struggling.“Hehadowed

everyone,meincluded,becausehewasagamblingaddict.Hewassodeepinshit,hecouldn’t
eventellmehehadborrowedmoneyfromloansharks.”Hisvoicefaltered,andhetookadeep
breath.

Iswallowed.IhadneverseenJettthisway,hisusualcomposedselfbreakingdown.Not

evenwhenhetalkedabouthisfather.

“Onedayheneededadrivertopicksomethingup.Ididn’tthinkmuchofit,soIdrove

himtotheplacewithoutaskingquestions.Butpickingupwasn’ttheonlythinghedidthat
day.Hekilledsomeone.Saiditwasanaccident.Heconfessedtomeaboutvariousloansand
theoddjobshehadbeendoingtorepaythosepeople.IpromisedI’dhavehisbackandhelp
himifhestoppedworkingforthem.ButJoedidn’twanttolisten.”

HisvoicewassoheavyIknewtherewasmoretothestory.Iwatchedhimtakeanother

breathandputthepicturebackonthesidetable.Mybodyurgedmetotouchhim,buttheman
standinginfrontofmewastrappedbymemories,andIwasseeminglyforgotten,ashadow
thatcouldn’treachhim.

“Thatdayhewassupposedtotakebackthemoneyhestole.Insteadhehidit

somewhereinsidethewarehouseandtoldmehe’dleavethecity,hideuntilhehadmade
enoughmoneytorepayhisdebtandthehighinterest.”

IshrankbackalittleattheintensityinJett’seyes.Hedidn’tneedtotellmewhathefelt—

thepainwaswrittenalloverhisface,insidehissoul,insidehismind.Hishandswereballedto
fists.Ididn’tneedwordstofigureoutthatthingshadgonehorriblywrong.

“Whathappened?”Iaskedquietly.
Hepressedhislipsinatightline,struggling,hiseyesmovingbacktothepicture,asifit

heldtheanswershewaslookingfor.

“Themoneywasgonethenextday.Joeaccusedmeofstealingit,andwehadafight.”He

smiledbitterly.“IwassoangryabouthisaccusationthatIwenttoBrianandtoldhimthe
truthabouttheloans.Thejob.Themoney.IwantedtohelpJoe.ButBrian—”Jetttookadeep
breath,histoneangry.“HewantedJoeoutofthegang.Saidhewasaliability.”

Ilookedup,confused.“Why?”
“Becausewealreadyhadproblemswithothergangs.It’sthewaythisworldworks.Brian

saidthatJoeposedarisktoallofusbecausehe’dgetusinvolvedwiththebigguysandthe
realshit,likedrugs.BriantookmeinwhenIhadnoplacetostay.Hewasalwaysthereforme.I
wenttohim,trustinghisjudgment.WhenBrianwantedtokickJoeout,Ibeggedhimtogive
Joeasecondchance,becausewithoutaganghewouldhavehadnoprotectionfromthe
sharks.BrianwasreluctantbuteventuallyagreedundertheconditionwetaughtJoealesson
and—”Jettpaused,takinghistime“—Iofferedtodoit.EventhoughIwasangrywithJoe,he
wasmybestfriend,andIwantedtohavecontroloverwhatwouldbedonetohim.Isuggested
aracewiththeplantosimulateacollisionwithJoe—justtoscarehim,breakafewbones,lock
himinsideahospitalforawhile,wherewecouldhelphim.Brianagreed.Butitwentwrong.”
Hetrailedoff.

Theairchargedwithheaviness.Iknewwhatwascoming,anditbrokemyheart.
“Ilostcontrolovermycarandkilledhim,”Jettsaidslowly,hiseyeshardandcold.“Itwas

myfuckingfault.”

IswalloweddownthelumpinmythroatasIstaredatthepictureandthemansitting

nexttoJett.Jettneverlostcontrolwhiledriving.Ihadseenitwithmyowneyes.

“Howisthatevenpossible?”Iasked.
“Ididn’tseethetreeonhissideoftheroad.”Hecasthisgazeonthefloor.Inspiteofthe

dimmedlights,Icouldseethemoistureshimmeringinhiseyes.

“Buthedid,”hewhispered.“WhenIhithim,hespunthecar,pushedmineaside,and

crashedrightintothetree.Bydoingso,hesavedmylifebutsacrificedhimself.Iwatchedhis
carexplode.”

“I’msosorry.”
“Don’tbe.Idon’tdeserveit.”
IlovedJett.Ilovedhimwithallmyheart.Ididn’twantguilttoconsumehim.Igrabbed

hishandandpulledhimtome,forcinghimtolookmeintheeyes.

“Itwasanaccident,Jett.”
“No,itwasn’t.”Hisvoicewasangry.“See,there’salwaysahugerisk.IknewitwhenI

madethatsuggestion.Iknewthatitcouldkillhim—orme.YetImadethatmistakeandit
definedme.Itchangedeverything.”

Ikissedhishandssoftly.InsideIwasshakenbyhisconfession—notsomuchaboutwhat

hadhappened,butbywhathethoughtofhimself.“Jett,yourmistakesdonotdefineyou.
You’refarmorethanthesumofafewbaddecisionsinlife.”

Helaugheddarkly.Icouldseehedidn’tbelieveme.
“IfIhadn’tracedthatday,he’dstillbealive.Mymistakecosthislife,”Jettwhispered.

“AndwhenIfoundoutthatBrianknewaboutJoe’sproblemsallalong,thatitwashewhotook
themoneyandreturnedittothesharkstopreventtheplacefrombeingraided,Ileftthegang.
Ifhehadtoldme,I’dneverhavesuggestedtheraceandJoewouldn’tbedead.Sono,Ican’t
trustBrian.Joehadbeenmorethanafriendtome.Hewaslikeabrother.”

Therewasalongsilence.Themusclesinhisjawsbegantowork,buthiseyeswereglued

tomyhands,touchingmewithoutactuallytouchingmyskin.Theairfeltpricklyanddark
betweenus.Ididn’tknowwheretostartorhowtohelphim,eventhoughtomeJettwasn’t
guilty.ButhowcouldIconvincethemanIlovedthatitwasanaccident—thathedidn’tdoiton
purpose—whenhewastheonlypersonwhocouldconvincehimself?

“IfBrianknewaboutJoe’sproblemsallalong,maybethesharksthreatenedhimandhe

returnedthemoneytokeepyouallsafe,”Isuggested.“Haveyoueveraskedhim?”

“No.Ileft.”Heshrugged,hisfaceahardmaskofdenial.“Butyoudon’tunderstand,

Brooke.Theracewasmyidea.Itwasmyfuckingidea,notBrian’s.”

“DoyoureallythinkJoedidn’tknowwhathewasgettinghimselfinto?”Iwhispered.“He

knewtherisks,andhewantedout.Evenifhehadn’tdiedthatday,he’dhaveowedalotof
peoplealotofmoney.Dangerouspeoplewhowould’vecomeafterhimfortakingthatmoney.
Itwouldn’thaveendedwell.”

Itwasatwistedkindoflogic,butitwasthebrutaltruth.AndJettknewit,whetherhe

wantedtoadmititornot.

“Wedon’tknowthat,”Jettsaid,choosingtostayindenial.“Forallweknowitcouldhave

endeddifferently,ifonlyhe’dgottenthechancetoturnhislifearound.”

Jettwasright.Hedidn’tknowifJoewouldn’thavebeenokay—likeIdidn’tknowifmy

sisterwouldhavestoppedseeingDannyifIhadn’tletherleavethehousethatfatefulnight.

ButwhenItrustedJettwithmysecret,hehelpedmecopewiththeguiltthathadbeen
torturingmeforyears.IfeltconnectedtoJettbecauseIthoughtheunderstoodmypain.My
confessionwasmykeytofeelingfreeandsafearoundhimandwithintheconfinesofmy
mind.NowthatIknewabouthispast,Ilongedtohelphimbuildthatsameconnectiontome.

Imoistenedmylips,consideringmywordscarefully.
“RightafterItoldyouaboutmysister,yousaidtomethatnoonecanhelpapersonif

theydon’twanttobehelped.Remember?”Ipaused.Whenhenodded,Icontinued.“Iknowthis
hurts,butyourpastisn’tsodifferentfrommine,Jett.Youcouldn’thavehelpedJoebecausehe
hadmadeuphismind.Forwhatit’sworth,yougaveityourbestshot,giventheknowledge
andlifeexperienceyouhadatthattime.DeepinyourheartyoucaredforJoe.Yousuggesteda
carracebecause,likeKennysaid,itwaswhatyouknewanddidbest.Notbecauseyouwanted
tohurtyourfriend,butbecauseyouwantedtohelphim.I’msureJoeknewthat.Hewould’ve
forgivenyou.Thefactthathesavedyourlifeshowsthathecaredforyou,too.”

Jettlookedupintomyworriedface.Hisexpressionsoftened,andthewarmthinhiseyes

returned.

“HaswhatItoldyoutodaychangedyourmindaboutmeinanyway?”heaskedatlast.

Hesoundednervous.Ittookeveryounceofmywillpowernottoshakesomesenseintohim.

“Youhavenoidea,doyou?”Iaskedindisbelief.
Heshookhishead.Whenheremainedsilent,Irealizedthathehadbeenserious.Igotup

fromthefloortositonhislap,mylegsgoingaroundhiswaistsoIcouldfacehim.

“Jett,Iloveyouforwhoyouare.Andthatincludesyourdarksideaswell.Onewrong

choicedoesn’tmakeyouafailure.Itdoesn’tmeanyou’redoomedtofailagain,”Iwhispered.
“Andtobehonest,Idon’tcarewhatyoudidordidn’tdo.It’sinthepast.Andyoucan’tchange
it.ButIknowthis.You’reagoodperson.You’reagoodfriend.”

Thecornerofhislipstwitchedinahalf-smile,andoneofhisgorgeousdimples

appeared.Istaredattheperfectionofit.ItwasoneofthemanyreasonsI’dfalleninlovewith
him.TherewassomethinggenuineaboutJett.Hereallycaredaboutthepeoplehewelcomed
intohisheart.

“AllmylifeI’veneverfeltthisclosetoanybody,”hewhispered.“Ifshitdidn’thappen,I’d

neverknowhowtotreasuremyblessings.”Histhumbtrailedthecontoursofmylipsslowly.
“You’remyblessing,Brooke.Idon’twanttokeepdreamingortakerisksbecause,forthefirst
time,realityisbetterthananythingIcouldeverenvision.”

Ismiled.“Isthatthereasonyoudidn’twanttoracetoday?Becauseyouthoughttragedy

couldstrikeagain?”

Jettnodded.“Icouldn’taffordanothermistake.LosingJoewashard,butlosingyou

wouldhavekilledme.ItwasanotherreasonwhyIdidn’twanttobeatDouginanopenrace.I
knewhe’dtrytoblockusormoveinforaPITmaneuver.”

Ifrowned,andhecontinuedtoexplain,“Fishtailing.Anyway,Iwould’vedonethesame

tohim.Hewasneverparticularlygoodatkeepingholdofthewheel.”Jettsighedandrolleda
strandofmyhairaroundhisfinger,curlingitandlettingitloose,thewayhealwaysdidwhen
hewasabouttosaysomethingthatbotheredhim.“Youknow,Brooke,whenImetyouI
experiencedhappinessforthefirsttimeinmylife.BrianthoughtI’dbetooscaredtorace,but
hegotitallwrong.Ididn’twantto—notbecauseI’mscared,butbecauseIdon’twanttorisk
whatIhavewithyou.Iwanttoseeourbabygrowup.Youbothmeantheworldtome.”

ThereweresomanyfeelingsinsidemethatIfearedtheremightnotbeenoughspaceto

fitthemallin.Idrewalongbreathandletitoutslowlyasrealizationkickedin.JettandIwere
inhisoldroom,andhehadjustdeclaredhowmuchImeanttohim.Myheartthreatenedto
burstwithemotion.Ormaybeitwastheresultofhissmilepenetratingeventhedeepest
layersofmysoul,warmingmybodylikenoonecould.

“Iwantyoutobemineforever,”Jettwhispered.“Toensureit,I’llalwaysmakeyou

happierthananyothermancould.Iwanttobethebestthingthat’severhappenedtoyou.”

“Youalreadyare.”Myfingersbrushedoverthestubblecoveringhisstrongchin.Sohard

andyetsosoft—justlikethemanhidingbehindthemostbeautifulfaceIhadeverseen.His
eyeslockedonmymouth,andslowlyhislipsmetmine.Amomentlaterourtonguestangledin
aneroticdance,andhishandsqueezedbeneathmyshirttoexploreallthatwouldbehis
forever.

Chapter 27

“JETT,WEKNOWwhereyourfatheris.”Kennystoodinthedoorofthecommunity

kitchen,hislaptoptuckedunderhisarm.Imotionedforhimtocomeinandhesatdownatthe
kitchentablewhereJettandIwerehavingafternooncoffeeandsnacks.Inthelastfewdaysmy
appetitehadquadrupled,andasmuchasIwantedtoblameitonthebaby,Icouldn’truleout
Jett’ssexualappetiteasbeingtheculprit.

“Wehackedintohisaccounts,”Kennysaid,openinghislaptop.“Asluckwouldhaveit,

wealsofoundacoupleofthingsthatwillinterestyou.”

“Like?”JettsoundedasinterestedasastudentafteralongFridayafternoonclass.Bored,

hebarelyregardedthelaptop’sscreenashetookaswigofhislatteandcrackedtheshellofa
peanut,handingittome,thenopenedoneforhimselfandpoppeditintohismouth.I
suppressedtheneedtogiggle.Eversincewearrivedherefivedaysago,hehadmadehimself
comfortableinanoddwayIhadn’tseenonhimbefore.Hisshirtwasopenandhishairasexy
tangledmess—asifhecouldn’tstopboastingthathissexlifewasgreat,whichwasthetruth.
Butdidhehavetobesoobvious?Wehadbeenmakinglovealmostnonstop,hissexualthirst
increasingbytheday,justlikemyappetite.

“WecheckedhisphonelogsandfoundthathecalledBrooke’snumberwhenshewasin

Italy.”Kennylookedatme.“Yourememberacallfromabroad?”

Ifrozeathisquestionasthememorycamefloodingback:thehotsummerdaywhenmy

phonerangwhileIwaspretendingtoSylvieIwasn’tseeingJett.Ihadbeensoengrossedwith
theestatethatIforgotallaboutthemysteriouscaller.

“Ido,”Isaidslowly,myglancesweepingfromKennytoJett.“RememberwhenIasked

youifyouhadcalledme?”Iraisedmybrowstojoghismemory.“Iwasn’tsure,becausethe
personhungup.”

TheconfusiononJett’sfaceclearedasheremembered.“Areyousureitwasmyfather?”
“DamnrightIam.”KennyfrownedatJettpoppinganotherpeanutintohismouth.“The

daybeforehedied—”Kennymadequotationmarks“—hetriedtoreachheronherlandline.
Soundslikehewastryingtotalktoherinprivate,butthat’snotwhatIwantedtoshowyou.
Look.”Hepointedatthescreen.“WhenIsearchedthroughhisphonerecords,Idiscovered
thatbesidesBrooke,hehadcalledtwootherpeopleonthatsameday.”Kennyturnedhis
laptoparoundtoshowus.

Nowmyinterestwaspiqued.
Leaningforward,Itriedtodecipherthenumbers,butallIsawwasabunchofhtmlcode

andyetmorecode.Nonames.IhadnoideahowKennycouldreadanyofit,butIguessedwith
himbeingahackerheknewhowtogetdetailsandseeconnections.

“Yeah?Well,he’sacompanyowner.You’dexpecthetalkedtomorethantwopeople,”

JettsaidandgavehisusualwhatdoIcareaboutthisshit?shrugbeforehishandpokedthe
bowlofpeanutsinfrontofhim.Kenny’sbrowfurrowedasJetttookanotherpeanutand
crackeditopen,thesoundsolouditmademechuckle.

“Areyouplanningoneatingthewholebowl,man?”KennyaskedJett,hisvoicedripping

withirritation.“I’mtryingtohaveaseriousconversationwithyouboth.”

“Thisbetterbegood.”Jettletoutanexasperatedsighandpushedthebowlaside.
“Itis.Trustme.”Kennypointedtothescreen.“Hephonedahotelserviceandan

attorney.Theattorneyhappenstohavethesamenameasthepersonyourfathertransferred

moneyto.”

“Couldbeattorneyfees,”Jettsaid.
Kennyshookhishead.“Notfees.Thefullfiftymill,dude,insmalltransactions.Your

fathertransferredthemoneythroughtheattorney’saccountintoanunidentifiedrecipient’s
account.Doyouknowwhotherecipientis?”

JettandIexchangedinterestedglances.FinallyJettsaid,“Noidea.You?”
“AcharitycalledETNAD.”Kennypaused,waitingforourreaction.
“Neverheardofit,”Jettsaid.
“Youbetterhave.”
“Why?”
“Let’ssee.Firstofall,it’salotofmoneyforonecharity.”Kennyleanedforwarduntilhis

elbowsrestedonthekitchenbar.“Andthenthere’sthefactthattheattorneyyourfather
calledisthesameguyhandlingtheLucazzoneestate’saffairs.HeworksforAlessandro
LucazzoneandBrooke.”

ThatwasthemomentIheardtheneedledrop.Ormaybeitwasabomb.Thesilencein

theroomwassoominousashudderrandownmyspine.

“Clarkson?”AllofasuddenIfeltfaint.
EvenJettlookedupandasked,“Whywouldmyfathertransfermoneytohim?Itdoesn’t

makesense.”

“Itdidn’tmakesensetome,either,untilItoldSylvieandsomethingcompletely

unrelatedcrossedhermind.Ifshe’sright,wemight’vefoundourconnectionbetweenyour
fatherandwhyhewantsthebook.”Kennysmiledpleased,enjoyingeverysecondofhisshow.
“ShementionedClarkson’sslantedhandwriting.Brooke,whenClarksonsentyoulettershe
wroteyournameandaddressontheenvelope,right?”Inodded,unsurewherehewas
heading.“Well,Sylviethinksthehandwriting’sthesameastheoneinthebook.”

“Isshesure?”Jettasked.“Forallweknow,hecouldhaveanassistant.Itcouldbeher

handwriting.”

Igrimaced.Clarksonmostcertainlyhadanassistant,butwouldhereallydragherinto

anydirtyaffairsandriskexposure?

“No,”Kennysaidslowly.“Sylviebelievestoremember.Soit’sawildguess,Iknow,which

iswhyIbroughtthisinthehopeyoumightrecognizeit.”

Hepulledtheblackbookoutofhisbagandpusheditacrossthetabletowardme.I

flickedtothefirstpage.Thehandwritingwasslantedandold-fashioned,butIdidn’t
rememberwhetheritwasanalogouswithClarkson’shandwritingbecauseIneverpaid
attentiontothesmalldetails.Whowouldhave?

“Whatmakesherthinkit’sthesame?”Iasked.
“Sherecognizedtheletters‘B’and‘S.’Thecurved‘B’and‘S’inyournamelookpretty

muchlikethose.”Hepointedtothe“S”inStathamand“B”inBradley.

“Howwouldsheremembersomethinglikethat?”Itwasn’treallyaquestion;morelike

awe.Sylviereferredtoherselfasascatterbrain,butherkeeneyefordetailneverceasedto
amazeme.

Kennyansweredanyway,“Shesaidnotmanypeoplewritelikethisanymore,whichis

whysheremembereditsowell.Thepossibilitydidn’tcrossherminduntilItoldheraboutthe
moneytransfer.”Heletoutalongbreath.“DoyouhaveanythingfromClarkson?Anenvelope,
signature,anythingatall?”

IlapsedintosilenceasItriedtoremember.“Theestate’sfinancialreportswerestolen

alongwiththeenvelope,butbeforeImetwithClarksonforthefirsttime,hesentmealetter.I
mightstillhaveitattheapartment.Nopromises,though.”

IthadtobetherebecauseIhadneversortedthroughmystuff,whatwithJettlyingtome

andmyconsequentheartbreak,thesuddendeparturetoItalyandourgettingbacktogether.
Anduponourreturn,IhadbarelyhadtimetograbsomeofmystuffbeforeImovedinwith
him.

“Where’sSylvieanyway?”IpassedthebooktoJettabsentmindedly.“Ithoughtshewas

comingtoday.”

“It’sheremployeeinductionday,”Kennysaid.
“ShetookthejobwithDelta&Warren?”Iaskedsurprised.“Ithoughtyouguyswere

goingonaroadtrip.”

“Westillare.Sylvie’stryingtogettwoweeksoff.”Kennyhesitated,grinning.“It’sher

firstdayandshe’sbargainingalready.”

“Soundslikeher,”Isaid,myattentionreturningtothebookinJett’shand.“I’msorry,

Kenny.Idon’trecognizethehandwriting,butI’llheadovertoourapartmentandgetthe
envelopesowecancompareit.”

Myheadwasspinningwithfacts.Imassagedmythrobbingtemples.“Evenifitwere

Clarkson’shandwriting,itstillwouldn’tmakesensewhyAlessandro’sattorneywouldwrite
downafewnamesandnumbers,thenhidethebookinhisclient’sbasement.”

AsIspokethewords,IrealizedIhadnevertakenintoaccountthepossibilitythatmy

lawyermightnotbethekindpersonIthoughthewas.

“UnlessClarkson’salsoinvolvedintheclubandtheyallworktogether,”Jettsaid,“andas

suchthebookhasimportanceforallofthem.”

“That’swhatIfigured,”Kennyrepliedmatter-of-factly.“I’msorry,mate,”headdedto

Jett.

“MyfatherledmetobelieveheandLucazzonewereenemies.IfClarksonworksforboth

ofthem,thenmyfatherliedtome.”Jett’sentiredemeanorhadchanged.Hiseyeswerelike
layersoffrost,devoidofcompassion.“Yetanotherlie.”

“Whatdoyouknowaboutthecharitythatreceivedthemoney?”Iasked,changingthe

subject.

Kennyshrugged,signalinghedidn’tknowmorethanwedid.“It’sprivate.Apparentlyit

supportsthefinearts.That’sallIcouldfindout.”

ETNAD?Thelettersechoedinmyhead.ETNAD.WhydiditsoundsofamiliarwhenIwas

sureIhadn’theardofitbefore?

Igrabbedapenandwrotedownthenametovisualizeit.
“Canyourunitthroughadatabaseorsomethingandfindoutwhattheletterscould

possiblystandfor?”Jettasked.

“Iwastryingtoshowyou,butyouweretoobusymunching,”Kennysaidmockingly,and

openedanewwindowinhisbrowser.“Themostlikely—andonlyanswer—isElectronicor
EndTransactionsNumericalAnalysisData.”

Theycontinuedtochatter,theirwordsnolongerreachingmebecausemybrainkept

circlingaroundthecharity’sname.

ETNAD
Sofarandyetsoclose.

IthoughtofScrabbleandpossiblecombinations.
ETNAD.Fiveletters.Theonlyfive-letterwordIcouldthinkofwasanted,buttheanswer

wasonthetipofmytongue.ItappedthepencilagainstmylipsasIfoughthardtograspit.
Whenitdidn’tcometome,Ibegantocombinefour-letterwordsonablanksheetofpaper.

“AreyouplayingScrabble?”Jettasked.Nodding,IshushedhimandreadthroughwhatI

hadsofar:etna,ante,dean,date,neat,tend,dent.Eachofthemsoundedfamiliar,tryingtotell
mesomething,andyettheyweren’tquiteright.AndthenIreadfromrighttoleftandmyblood
frozeinmyveins.

ETNADwasDANTE.
Dante.
Themanwhohadwantedme.AcoldchillmademeshudderasIrecalledtheevents

beforeLizwasraped.

“Brooke?”
“What?”IglancedupintoKennyandJett’sworriedfaces.HadIspokenoutloud?
“What’swrong?”Jettasked,hishandtouchingmyarmgentlybutprotectively.Myglance

fellonthepencilinmyhand,brokenintwo.Jett’sfingersburnedmyskin,ormaybeIwas
frozen,notjustmymind,butmyentirebody.“Youokay?”Jettpersisted.

“Thecharityyourfather’sinvolvedwith,”Ibegan,myvoiceshaking,“ifyoureadETNAD

fromrighttoleft,itspellsDante.”

Ididn’thavetospeaktheobvious.Jett’sfaceturnedintoamaskoffury,andhisjawset.

Hisfistsballed,andsomethingsparkledinhiseyes.

“Fuck!Thatsickbastard.”Hewipedahandoverhisface,butitdidnothingtodiminish

hisanger.“Heluredyouin.”

KennylookedfromJetttome,theconfusiononhisfacelifting,meaningJettmust’vetold

himeverything.“Anyway,guesswherehecalledfromwhentheexplosionhappened?”

“Idon’tgiveashit,”Jettcuthimoff.“Ihaveabiggerproblemnow.He’sstillinvolvedwith

theclub,andthere’snodoubtinmymindhe’sresponsibleforwhathappenedtoBrooke.I
needtoknowwhy.”

“Whydon’tyouaskhim,Jett?”Kennyaskedquietly.“Yourfather’sstayingattheRichton

Hotel,roomnumber113,underthenamePaulAnderson.I’llgowithyouandwecan—”

Ignoringhim,Jettwalkedoutandslammedthedoorshut.
“TellhimI’llbewaitingforhimoutside,”Kennysaidandsmiledapologetically.“Sorry.

It’safuckingmess.”

“It’sokay.Ididn’texpectitanyotherway.”Ireturnedhisweaksmileandfollowedafter

Jett.

Ifoundhiminhisformerroomandclosedthedoorbehindme.Inthesilenceofthe

walls,itwasjustJettandI,twotormentedsouls.Fromthedoorway,Iwatchedhimretrievea
gunfromadrawerandcheckthatitwasloaded.

“Pleasedon’thurthim,”Iwhispered.“Wedon’tknowforsurewhat’sgoingon.”
“Howmuchmoreproofdoyouneed,Brooke?He’safuckingliar,”Jetthissed.“He

claimedheandLucazzonehadn’tbeenincontactforyears.AndthenIfindouthetransferred
moneytoaboguscharitythat’sconnectedtotheclubinsomeway.”Heshruggedintohis
leatherjacketandsqueezedtheguninsidetheholsterathisback.

Imovedcloseruntilweweremereinchesapart.“Please,Jett.Don’t.”
Hescannedmyeyes,hisfrowndeepeningashecuppedmyfaceinhishands.

“Look,IknowwhatI’mdoing.Okay?Myfather’smyproblem,andIhavetodealwithhim

bymyself.Theleasthe’lldoisanswermyfuckingquestions.”

“Letmecomewithyou,then,”Ipleaded.Ihadahorriblefeelingaboutthewhole

situation.

Jettshookhisheadvehemently.“You’restayinghere.Afterwhathe’sdonetoyou,Idon’t

wanthimanywherenearyou,Brooke.”

ImoistenedmylipsasIconsideredmywords.ThereweresomanyloopholesthatIjust

couldn’twrapmyheadaroundtheentirepicture.

“Hecouldhavekilledmeinthecar,buthedidn’t.”IheldontoJett’sarms,forcinghimto

listen.“Hisdriverwasshot.Hearrangedforafakeidentityandmoney.Hedidn’thavetodo
anyofthat,whichhiswhyIdon’tbelieveit.”

Judgingfromhisexpression,Jettdidn’tbelieveme.EvenIfoundithardtobelieve,but

theargumentsinsidemyheadkepttellingmeRobertMayfieldwasinnocent.Thethoughtthat
Jett’sfathernotonlyhatedmesomuchhewantedmeoutofhisson’slifebutalsohatedmeso
muchhewantedtokillmewastoowickedtobelieve.Hehadtobeinnocent,becauseIcouldn’t
imagineanyonebeingsohorrificandcruel.

“Hethreatenedyourfamilyandfriends’lives.Isn’tthatgoodenoughareasonforyou?”

Jettasked.“AslongasIdon’tknowwhat’sgoingon,you’restayinghere,andKenny’skeeping
watchonyou.”

Healsothreatenedyourlife,butthatIdidn’tadd.InsteadIlookedupintoJett’sbeautiful

eyes.Myheartracedwildlyatthethoughtofhimgoinginalone.

“Yourfatherhasbodyguards.IwantKennytocomewithyou.”
Afewmomentsofsilencepassedbetweenus.
“Okay.”Hesighed,givingin.“Butyou’restayinghere.I’llhaveBrianwatchyou.”
Thedecisivenessinhistoneirritatedme.Ididn’tlikeitwhenJetthandledmeasifIhad

nosayinthematter.

“Don’ttreatmelikeI’msomefragilebutterfly,Jett.”Ifoldedmyarmsovermychestand

regardedhim.“I’mgoingtomakemyselfusefulbyreturningtomyapartmenttofindout
whetherSylviewasrightaboutthehandwriting.IthinkIknowwhereClarkson’sletteris.
Briancanaccompanyme.”

Angercrossedhisfeaturesbeforeheshookhishead.
“No.”Hisvoicewasforceful.“I’llbebackbeforeevening,andwe’llgotogether.FirstI’m

dealingwithmyfather,andthenwestartdiggingintoClarkson.”

“You’reworryingaboutmewhenyou’retheonewalkingaroundwithagun,”I

murmureddryly.

“I’veheardwomenlikeaguywhoknowshowtofightanddefendhimself.”Ahintofa

smileappearedonhislips.Hewastryingtobefunnybypretendinghehadeverythingunder
control,butthecageyexpressioninhiseyesgaveawayhisrealthoughts.

Iignoredhisstatement.
“Notwhenyouintendtohurtsomeone.”Myfingersbrushedhischeekgently.“Promise

meyouwon’thurthim.He’syourfather,andyou’llonlyenduphurtingyourself.”

“Ican’tmakethatpromise.Youknowthat,”hesaid.“ButIcanpromiseyouIwon’tdo

anythingI’dlivetoregret.”

Hepushedmyhandawayandwalkedovertoretrievethephoneonthesideboard,then

handedittome.“Iwantyoutocarrythiswithyou.Ifsomethinghappens,callme.Okay?”

Hekissedmeonthecheek,andthengrabbedhisjacket.Iwatchedhimwalkoutthedoor

andcloseitbehindhim.

“I’dratheryougavemeagunthanastupidcellphone,”Imuttered,andpushedthecell

insidemyhandbag.Itwastrue.Ineverwould’veimaginedImightwanttocarryagun.Infact,
thethoughtofhavingaweaponinthehouseusedtoscareme.Butnow,afterseeingwhathad
happenedtoLizandhavingbeensubjectedtoviolencemyself,Ihadneverwantedanything
morethantobeabletodefendmyself.

Chapter 28

JETT’SWHOLE“WEAKwoman/strongman”attitudewasridiculous.Ididn’twanttofeel

uselesswhilehedidallthehardwork.IfJettthoughthecouldtreatmelikesomefragileflower
thathadtobeprotectedatallcosts,hewaswrong.Iharborednoplan,nointention,nodesire
tobethatway.Thethoughtalonemademelivid.I,weak?Icouldtakecareofmyself.Besides,
Jettwasn’ttheonlyonewhoneededanswers.I,too,soughttogetridofthenaggingquestions
insidemyhead.IwantedtofindoutifSylviewasrightaboutthehandwritingandmaybeshed
newlightonthewholeLucazzonesecret.

Peeringthroughthewindow,IwatchedhimleavewithKenny,andthengrabbedmy

handbag.Thekitchenwasempty.Jett’sbuddies,Brianincluded,hadgatheredintheopen-
spacelivingroomslashhallonthefloorbelowJett’sroom.ThankGodforfootballgames
accompaniedbytheusualmaleshoutingandyelling.Isneakedpastthemandhadreachedthe
firstfloorwhenIfeltsomeone’shandonmyshoulder.

“Whereareyougoing?”Tiffany,Brian’sgirlfriend,asked.Regardingheroversized

turquoisesweaterandhershortblackhairwithvioletstreaks,Ibeggedmymindtocomeup
withagoodlie.

“Jettwantsmetogetafeelforhiscar.Youknow,acquaintourselves.”Igroanedinwardly

atmylameexcuse.

“Cool.”Sheshrugged.“Butyoucan’tdriveit.”
“Yeah,that’swhathesaid.”Irolledmyeyesinmockirritation,ignoringherpatronizing

tone.“I’mjustgoingtositinitforawhile.He’sanamazingdriver,anditlookssoeasy.”

“It’snot.”Herlipscurvedintoafakesmileanddisappearedasecondlater.“Thekeysare

inthelockerroominaboxonthewall.Havefun!”Shewalkedaway.Wehadbeenstayingfora
fewdays,andIstilldidn’tknowwhatherissueswere.Iclimbeddownthestairs,passedthe
securitycameras,andletmyselfout.

Thebuildingslookedmoreominousthanever—maybebecauseitwasacloudyday

promisingarainynight.

Icrossedthebackyardandreachedthegate.Theguardfrownedbutdidn’tcommentasI

walkedthroughandcalledataxi.

DuringthedrivetoSylvie’sapartment,Icouldnolongerignorethethoughtsinsidemy

head.Thereweretoomanylooseends,especiallythepartwhereAlessandroLucazzone
workedtogetherwithRobertMayfield.IfIdidn’tgetanswers,I’dneverfindpeace.Myfear
wouldcontinuetoconsumeme.Icouldn’tspendmylifehiding.Imissedwork,shopping,and
meetingforcoffeewithSylvie,and,mostimportantly,IwantedanormallifewithJettsoI
couldprepareformotherhood.

Eventuallywereachedtheapartment,andIletmyselfin.Everythingwasquiet,butthe

airsmelledofSylvie’sperfumeandmemories.Somanyhappymemories.

Fightingthesuddenonsetofnostalgia,Iremovedmyshoesandwalkedbarefoottomy

formerroom.Everythingwastidy,thebedmade.JustlikeIhadleftitwhenImovedinwith
Jett.IheadedformydeskandbegansortingthroughthemailpileSylviehadkeptforme.And
therewasalotofit.IttookmeawhiletofindClarkson’sletter.

Iscannedtheold-fashionedwriting.The“B”and“S”werecurved—asthoughhewas

intocalligraphy.Therewaslittledoubttheownerofthebookwasthesamepersonwho’d
writtendownmynameandaddressontheenvelope.

Ijumpedinmyskinwhensomethingclickedinthehallandfootstepsthuddedonthe

hardwoodfloor.

“Sylvie?”Pressingtheletteragainstmychest,Ipeeredoutthedoor.“Ididn’texpectyou

homesoearly.Kennysaid—”IbrokeoffasIstaredattheonefaceIneverexpectedtosee.In
frontofme,standingnearSylvie’slargebookcase,wasNate,hishandsburiedinhispockets.

“Whatareyoudoinghere?Howdidyougetin?”Iasked,unabletohidetheshockinmy

voice.ForsomereasonIthoughttherehadtobeaperfectlyreasonableexplanation.

“Thedoorwasopen.”Hepointedbehindhim.
“AreyoulookingforJett?He’snothere,butIcancallhim.”
“Noneed.”Hesmiled.“I’vebeenwaitingforyou.”
Itwasthestrangesmileonhisfacethatmademyheartbeatfranticallyinmychest.
“Why?”Iwhispered.
Theapartmentfeltsmall,theairtoothicktobreathe.
“Iknewyou’dbecoming.”Hetookslow,measuredstepsforward,hisblueeyesscanning

me.Iinchedback.

“Youhaven’tansweredmyquestion.Whyareyouhere?”Iwasmissingsomething;Ijust

couldn’tputmyfingeronit.

“Oh,Brooke.”Helaughed,thesoundsendingashiverdownmyspine.“Ihaveanswered

yourquestion.Weren’tyoulistening?”Histonewascontemptuous.“IsaidIwaswaitingfor
you.Youwalkedawayfrommelasttime,andIhadnochoicebuttowaitforyou.Afterall,I
paidalotofmoneytohaveyou.Yourbehaviordidn’tpleaseme,butI’mwillingtolookpast
yourindiscretion.”

Whatindiscretion?
Mybodyfroze,andmychestbegantotightenwithfear.Alarmbellsranginmyhead.
“You—”Ichokedonmybreath.Thethoughtwashorrible.Itcouldn’tbetrue.Icouldn’t

evenspeakitoutloud.Henoddedencouragingly,andhiseyesflickeredwithknowledgeand
pleasure.Istaredathisevilsmile,thinkinghowmuchheseemedtoenjoythemomenthe
disclosedhisidentity.

WhenDannyclaimedamanpaidforme,Iimaginedhimtobeolder.NeverJett’s

attractivebrother.Clearly,hewasasociopath—charmingandlikeableontheoutside,but
twistedandsicktothecore.

“You’reDante?”Itwasn’tsomuchaquestionasastatement.Myvoicewasshakingand

mythroatwassotightIfeltlikeIwasbeingstrangled.

“IamDante.”Hiseyesflashedwithpride,asthoughthenamehadaspecialmeaning.

Anditdid,somewhereatthebackofmymind;myparalyzingfearjustwouldn’tletmegraspit.

“Youworkfortheclubandthecharity?”Iaskedindisbelief.Ontherareoccasionswe

hadmet,hehadalwaysbeenfriendly,helpfuleven.HehadclaimedtobeclosetoJett.Ithadto
beamisunderstanding.

“Notworking.”Heshookhisheadslowly.“I’mleadingtheclub.Ithinkthere’sa

difference,Brooke.ClarksonconvincedLucazzonetoleaveeverythingtothecharity,andthe
charity’smine.”

Mymouthwentdry.ThepersonIhadbeenfleeingfromhadbeenamongusallalong.
“Youseemsurprised,”Natecontinued.“Didn’tyouthinkI’dbecapableofsuchagrand

scheme?”Theexpressioninhiseyeschangedfrompridetoamusement,andbacktopride.
“Mybrother’ssoblindinlovewithyouheeventoldmewhereyouwerestaying.”

“Whatdoyouwantfromme?”Iaskedagain.Ihopeditwasthebook,butinsomewayI

knewhehadn’tarrangedtokidnapmebecauseofit.

“Youknowtheanswer,Brooke.Deepdown.”Hetookanotherstepforwardandstopped,

likehehadallthetimeintheworld.“Theestate.You.Thecompany.AllthethingsIworked
hardfor.AllthethingsIdeserve.I’mheretotakethemall.”

Hepulledoutahuntingknife.
Hewasgoingtokillme.
Therealizationkickedinhard.IhadtostalluntilIfoundawayout.“Idon’tunderstand.”I

tookanotherstep,andmybackhitthewall.Thelivingroomwastomyright.Thiswasmylast
chancetorun.Turning,IdashedpasthiminthehopeIcouldlockmyselfinsidetheliving
roomandopenthewindowtocallforhelp.Ihadn’tevenreachedthedoorwhenheslammed
metothefloorand,turningmearound,hishandtightenedaroundmythroat.

“We’renotfinished.”HisgripwassotightIthoughtImightpassout.Mypalmsflew

upwardtopushhimawayasmyeyesfilledwithmoisturefromthelackofoxygen.Hisface
inchedcloseruntilIcouldfeelhisbreathonmylips.

“Rightfromthebeginning,youwerenothingbutamillstoneinmybigplans,Brooke.You

die.AndIgeteverything.Simpleasthat,”Natesaid.“Ibetyoudidn’tseethatcoming.”

Hishandsreleasedmythroat.Ipulledmyselfuponmyknees,gaspingforair,ignoring

thepangsofpainshootingthroughmyribcage.SothecarchaseinItalyhadn’tbeenaboutthe
book;ourpursuerswantedtokillme.Nateflungmeonmybackandheldtheknifeagainstmy
throat.Tearsbegantotrickledownmycheeks,notoutoffearbutoutofshock.

“Now,don’tcry,littleone.Allthoseyears,Alessandrohadthechoicetopasstheestate

ontome,”Natebegan.“Buthekeptlookingforanheir,leavingmenochoicethantotrickhim
andeverybodyelse.SoIboughthislatewife’sfavoritecharityorganizationandmadesure
thatClarksonsqueezedinaclausethatifanythinghappenedtoyoubeforeyousignedthe
inheritancepapers,everythingwouldfalltoETNAD.Then,afterhesignedthewill,Lucazzone
died.”Watchingme,hetiltedhishead.“Thatwasafewweeksago,rightbeforeIconvincedJett
tomeetwithyoutodiscussapotentialpartnership.”

Ishookmyhead.Itwasn’tpossible.WhileIknewthewillwasdrawnuppriortomy

meetingwithJett,Alessandrohadn’tdied.Thus,thetimeframewaswrong.

“Idon’tbelieveyou,”Isaid.“ImetwithAlessandroafewweeksago.He’sinacomabut

alive.”

“Clarksonworksforme,Brooke,”Natesaidmatter-of-factly,asifthatwastheanswerto

allmyquestions.“TheoldmanyoumetwasanactorIhired.Orwhyelsedoyouthinkthe
nurseneverleftyoutwototalkinprivate?Hewasabitsenile,andwehadtomakesurehe
didn’tmakeamistake,revealingtoomuch.”Natelaughedandplayedwiththeknifepressed
againstmythroat,obviouslyexcitedbyhisownmadness.

“YouandJettwereplayedfromthebeginning.Ordidyouthinkitwasfate?”heasked.“I

setupthemeetingbetweenthetwoofyou.Ievenchosethebar.Ashisnewassistantyou
weresupposedtotraveltoItaly,meetwiththeoldman,andnevermakeitbackalive.WhatI
didn’texpectwasJetttofallforyouandfigureouttherewassomethingwrongwiththeestate,
butyou’vedonemeafavor,Brooke.Itmakessensethatmybrotherwouldshootyouina
jealousfitandthenkillhimself,unabletolivewiththeguilt.”

“He’dneverdothat,”Iwhispered.
“You’reright.Butwithmyhelp,hewill.”Nate’sblueeyesshimmered.Irealizedhewas

crazy.Literallycrazy.Apsycho.“Jealousycanbesuchastrongmotive.Andeveryonewho
knowsJettknowshe’sapassionateman.It’sagoodplan,isn’tit?AndwhenJettdies,Igethis
sharesofthecompanyaswell.”

Myheartpoundedfast,anddesperationwashedovermeasIlookedintoNate’shard,

coldeyes—theeyesofakiller.

“Please,”Iwhispered.“You’retalkingaboutyourbrother.Don’tyoucareaboutyour

family?”

“I’msorrythingshavetoendthisway,”Natesaid.“Butbusinessisbusiness,and

everyonehastofightforhimself.”

“Lethergo,Nate.”Afamiliarvoicecarriedoverfromthedoor.Nateeasedenoughonthe

knife,andIfollowedhislineofvisiontoJett’sfatherpointingagunatus.

“Soitwasyouallalong?Howcouldyoubetrayme,Nate?”
“Dad?”
“Moveawayfromheranddroptheknife.”Robertwavedhisgun.“I’lltellyouonemore

time,Nate.Lethergo.”

Natetookastepback,hisknifedroppingtothefloor.Icrawledtowardthelivingroom

door,puttingsomedistancebetweenus.Nateseemedfrozen,probablyprocessingthenews
thathisfatherwasstillalive.Afewsecondspassed.Robertspokefirst.

“Iraisedyouasmyson,”Robertsaid,inchingcloser.“Andthisishowyourepayme?

AfterallI’vedoneforyou?”

Istaredathim,confused.Wasn’tNatehisbiologicalson?AndwhataboutJett?
“WhowastheguyIsawatthemorgue?”Nateaskedaccusingly.Hisvoicewastinted

withahintofanger.

“Somedeadguywhowasalreadydeadwhenwegotthebodyfromthemorgue,”Robert

replied.

Nateremainedsilentashestaredbackathisfather.Hiseyesmovedfromhisfatherto

theknifeonthefloor.Eventuallyheasked,“Whydidyoufakeyourowndeath?”

“WhenItoldabouttheclubyearsago,Ididsotoprotectyoufromitsinfluence.Butyou

joineditbehindmybackandblackmailedmeallthoseyears.”Robertshookhishead.“I
thoughtIcouldtrustyou,butallyoudidwasstabmeintheback.”

“Ihadnochoice,Dad,”Natesaidslowly.“Iwasblackmailed,too.”
Robertlaughedbitterly.“Bullshit.Youwentaroundourbacksandmanipulated

everyone.WhenIsentClarksonthemoney,Ialreadysuspectedyouweretheactualrecipient.
ButIwasn’tsure.AllIknewwasthatithadtobearelativelynewmember,someonewhoknew
myeverystepbywatchingme.WhenClarenceHoltontoldmeyouwerethenewclubleader
andinterestedinBrooke’sestate,Icouldn’tbelieveit.IhadtoseeformyselfthatthesonI
raisedlikemyowncoulddothistome.”Hepaused.“SoIledeveryonetobelieveIwasdead
whileItriedtokeepBrookesafeandgetthebook.Itwastheonlywaytofindoutmy
blackmailer’sidentity.”

“Whythebook?”Iasked.
RobertMayfield’seyesnarrowedonme.“ThenumbersarecombinationstoP.O.boxes

containingvideostakenduringvarious—”hehesitated“—clubmeetings.Ifiguredthe
blackmailerwouldfeatureinoneofthem.”HisattentionturnedbacktoNate.“I’msureifI
lookedhardenough,I’dfindproofthatyou’vebeenblackmailingmembersforyears.NotthatI
needitnow.YourstandinghereisproofenoughthatyoubetrayedthetrustIplacedinyou

whenItoldyouabouttheclub.I’vebeenwatchingtheapartmentfordaysbecauseIknewif
Brookestoppedby,youwould,too.”Heshookhishead,hisfaceamixofangerandgrief.“I’m
deeplyashamedofyou,Nate.Ofwhatyou’vedonetotheclub.Ofwhatit’sbecome.”

“I’msorry,Dad.”Nate’smannerchanged.Hisfacelookedguilty,andhisvoicefilledwith

sadnessashesteppedforward,handsoutstretched.“IfIhadknownIwasadisappointmentto
you,Iwould’vechangedalongtimeago.”

Hewassuchagoodactor—thesuddenrealizationscaredmemorethananything.In

slowmotion,IwatchedNatepulloutagun.

“No!”Ishouted,butitwastoolate.Amuffledshotechoedfromthewalls.Robert

droppedtothefloor,andbloodbegantopouroutofhischest.

“Whydon’tyouadmityou’rejealous,Dad?ThatyoucouldneveraccomplishwhatI’ve

achieved?”Natepickeduphisfather’sgun,hiseyesfixedontheoldman,ashepushedit
insidethebeltholsterathisback.IkneelednexttoRobertandpressedmyhandsagainsthis
chesttostopthebloodflow.

“Whatdidyoudo?”IshoutedtoNate.Thebloodbegantospreadsofastitstained

everything.Myhands.Ourclothes.Thefloor.

“It’sbeenlongoverdue,”Natesaid.“Andit’sallyourfault,Brooke.Ifyouhadn’trunaway,

myplanwould’veplayedoutneatly.”

“Weneedtohelphim,Nate,”Ipleaded.“Pleasecallanambulance,orhe’llbleedto

death.”

“Idon’tcareabouthim.He’snotevenmyfather.”
Igapedathiminshock.“Howcanyousaythat?”
“It’sthetruth.”Heshruggedandcheckedthegun.“YearsagoIopenedhissafebecauseI

neededmoneyandhewouldn’tgiveittome.That’swhenIfoundmybirthcertificate.Hetook
mefrommyrealparents.NobodyaskedmeifIwantedtoberaisedbyhim.”

“Itookyouinfromanorphanage,Nate,”Robertwhispered.“Yourparentsabandoned

you.”Hisfacewasdistortedinpain.

“You’relying.”Nateraisedthegunagain.“You’refuckinglying.”Hewalkedbacktohis

father,hisbrowsdrawninanger.NowIunderstoodwhyJettsawhisfatherthewayhedid.As
volatile.Competitive.Evenheartless,andsometimescruel.Robertwasabouttodie,buthe
preferredtellingthebrutaltruthratherthanmakeamends.

“Youwereanorphan,Nate.Yourmotherabandonedyouinthegutterwhenyouwere

barelythreedaysold.”

Eventhoughitwasapoorexcuseforhisactions,forsomereasonIunderstoodthepain

Natemust’vegonethroughallthoseyearsafterfindingouthebelongednowhere.Thepasthe
hadwasbasedonalie.

“Youwouldn’thavepaidadimeifitwerethetruth,”Nategrowled.“ThefactIcould

blackmailyouallthoseyearssoeasilyshowsmeyou’reguiltyoftakingmeawayfrommyreal
parents.”

“Nate!”Hisfatherchokedonhisbreath,hisfacedistorting.“Ibuiltthecompany.Ididn’t

wanttodealwithanyscandalorbadpublicity.EverythingIdidwassoyouandJettcouldhave
acarefreefuture.Showeringyouwithmillionstomakeyoubelieveyouweremyownsonand
thatyouhadafatherwasasmallpricetopay.Itdoesn’tchangethefactthatyouwere
abandoned.”

“Ifuckinghateyou,”Natewhispered.HeheldtheguntoRobert’shead.“AndIdon’tcare

aboutanythingyousay.I’lljustfuckingkillyouboth.”

Hemeantbusiness.
Mygazesweptovertheroom,takinginanythingIcoulduseasaweapon.Anythingto

keepthepsychofromkillingus.Ijustneededadistraction.

Thethuddingandvoicesoutsidethedoormademeflinch,andNateturnedhishead.I

usedtheopportunity.Grabbingthevaseonthesidetable,IsmasheditintothebackofNate’s
head.Heswayed,andthegundroppedtothefloor.Ilungedforitandpointeditathim.My
handswereshakingbadlybecauseIknewNatehadanotherguntuckedintheholsterathis
back.

“Don’teventhinkaboutpullingitout,”Ihissed.“OrI’llshoot.”
Natechuckled,unfazed,andtookastepforward.“Lookatthewayyou’reholdingthat

gun.Youcan’tevenshoot.”

Iliftedthegunhigher.
“IswearI’lldoit.”
Hedoveforme.Ishot—andmissed.
Shit.
Thedoorboltedopen,andfromtheperipheryofmyvisionIsawJettandafewguys

stormingin.Nateturnedaround,hisarmsspreadout,ahorrifiedexpressiononhisface.

“ThankGodyou’rehere,Jett,”Nateshouted,hisgazebrushingnervouslyoverthegunin

Brian’shands.“Sheshotourfather.She’sinvolvedinhisshitandnowshe’stryingtokillme.”

Igaped,myspeechfailingme.
Un-believe-able.
Theguywasn’tjustagoodactor;hewasabornliar.
JettpulledouthisgunandpointeditatNate.“Idon’tbelievemygirlfriendwouldeverdo

that.”

InslowmotionIwatchedNateretrievehisgunoutoftheholster.Jettaimed.Aninstant

lateramuffledgunshotresonatedfromthewallsandNateslumpedtothefloor,bloodpouring
outofhisleg,hisfaceamaskofagonizingpain.

IhadnoideathatJettcouldshootthatwell.BrianandanotherguyliftedNateupand

draggedhimoutthedoor.Butmymindwasalreadyelsewhere.

Jett’shandswerealloverme,inspectingmeforwounds.“Areyouhurt?”
“No,butheis.”Ipointedtohisfather,wholayinapuddleofblood,stillconscious.The

smellwasoverpowering,andIcouldn’tstopshaking.“Nateshothimwhileyourfathertriedto
protectme.Weneedtohelphim.”

“Shit,”Jettmuttered,kneelingbesideRobertashepulledouthiscellphoneandcalled

Sam.

Bythetimeaprivateambulancearrived,Iwasanervousmess.Itdidn’thelptoseeJett’s

worriedfaceasheexchangedafewwordswithhisfather.

“Whatdidhesay?”Isaidaftertheambulancedroveaway.
“HetoldmewheretofindtheP.O.boxeswiththevideos.That’stheonlythinghesaid,”

Jettsaid,gravely.“Hecouldbarelyspeak.”

“Oh,God.”IburiedmyfaceinJett’schest.“Ihopehe’llmakeit.”
Hedidn’treply.ThesilencewasoppressingaswedrovetoSam’shospital.
“Howdidyoufindme?”Iwhispered.Wehadbeensittinginthewaitingroomfortwo

hoursuntilSamcouldconfirmthatJett’sfatherhadpassedthecriticalphasefollowing

surgery.Avoidingthesubjectwaseasierthanlookingatthehardfacts.Itwaseasierthan
admittingthatJonathanMayfieldhadbeenplayingJettallalong,andRobertMayfieldmight
diebecauseofhisadoptedson’sgreed.

“Yourcell.”Jettsmiledsoftly.“Besides,you’restubborn,soIfiguredyouwouldn’tlisten.

Itwasn’tahardguess.”

“Butwhatmadeyoucomelookingforme?Yousaidyouwouldn’tbebackbefore

evening.”

“KennyfoundoutClarenceHoltonhadalsotransferredfiftymilliontoClarkson,somy

nextguesswasthatsomeonemust’veblackmailedthem,anditwasn’tmyfather.”Hiseyes
metmine,andforamomenttheytookmybreathaway.“ButthenBriancalledtotellmehis
girlfriendsawyouleaving,andIdroveover.”

“I’mgladyoudid,”Iwhispered,refusingtothinkofwhatmighthavehappened

otherwise.

Hisshouldersslumped.“Ineverwouldhaveexpectedthisfrommybrother.”
“That’swhatyourfathersaid,too.”Ileanedmyheadagainsthisshoulderthenrecapped

theeventsfromthebeginning.“WhatareyougoingtodowithNate?”IaskedonceIhad
finished.

“I’mgoingtofindthevideosandhandthemovertotheauthorities,andletthemdecide.

Hedeservesallthat’scoming.”

Isatuptoregardhim.“Whataboutyourfather?”Hecouldn’tpossiblyrevealhisfather’s

involvementintheclubwithoutriskingMayfieldRealties’collapse.Iwouldn’tletsomany
peoplelosetheirjobs.

“Idon’tknow,Brooke,”Jettsaid,defeated,“butI’msurewe’llfiguresomethingout.”

Chapter 29

THENEWSABOUTETNADandtheeliteclubwassplashedalloverthenewspapersona

Monday,alittlemorethanaweekafterJett’sfatherwasshot.Someonehadtippedoffthe
authoritiesandnowinvestigationskeptpoppingupallovertheStatesandevenEurope.New
nameswererevealedeveryday,includingJett’sbrother.

IwasstandinginJett’skitchen—ourkitchen—brewingalargepotofcoffeetoseeme

throughthebusynightahead.Itwasearlyevening,shortlyafterdusk,andthesunhadjust
disappearedbehindthethickcurtainofraincloudsthathadbeenhoveringaboveNewYork
Cityforthelastfewdays.Wehadarrivedbackfromtheofficeanddinnerinanearby
restaurant,andJettwasstillintheshowersoIwasalonewithmycoffeeandthoughtsasIsat
downonthecouch,cross-legged,andspreadthenewspaperaroundme.Ihadgonethrough
thearticlescountlesstimesbutforsomereasonIkeptcomingback,unabletograspthefact
thatmynightmarehadfinallycometoanend.ThatNatehadbeeninvolvedformanyyears
stillshockedme.Jettrefusedtotalkabouthim,asifhisbrotherwasn’tworthmentioning.

RobertMayfieldwasmentionedinthebusinesssection—theman,whohadallegedly

beeninvolvedinafreakexplosion,onlytocomebackfromthedead.Theholeinhischesthad
remainedawell-keptsecret.Wehadvisitedhiminthehospitalthedaybefore.Eventhough
thedoctorskepthiminaninducedcomafordays,Ihadwantedtoseehim.Knowinghe’dtried
toprotectJettandme—grantedinastrangeway,butstill—themeetinghadfeltdifferent.And
whileIknewwe’dprobablynevermeetforThanksgivingorChristmasdinner,Iplannedon
gettingtoknowtherealRobertMayfieldassoonashishealthrecovered,forbothJett’sand
thebaby’ssake.

WithKenny’shelpthemissingmoneywouldbereturnedintothecorporatebank

accounts,andJettcouldfinallyfocusonlaunchinghisowncompany—that’swhereallthe
coffeeandmyundyingsupportcamein.Ididn’tjustlovehim;Iwasproudofhimandhis
achievements,andIwasgoingtoseehisdreamcometrue,nomatterwhat.Evenifthat
involvedworkingattheofficeduringthedayandhelpinghimwiththelaunchofhisbusiness
atnight.

“Doyouwanttocallitaday,babe?”Jettsaid,appearingaroundthecorner.
“There’sstillsomuchtodo.”Ipushedacupofsteamingcoffeeintohishands,marveling

attheperfectionofhisbroadchestandhiselectriceyesthatreflectedthelightinamillion
facetsofgreen.

“MaybeIwanttofocusonsomethingelseforawhile.”Heplacedthecuponthetableand

pulledmeagainsthishardbody,hismouthburyinginmyhairatthenapeofmyneck.To
smell,tokiss,tobite—Ihadnoidea,butworkwaswaiting,andIcouldsensehewasaboutto
idle.

EversoslowlyJettbegantounbuttonmydress.Ipushedishandsawaybeforehecould

ripoffmybra.

“Sorry,Mayfield,butifyouwanttocallitaday,I’llhavetoinsistyouusetheremaining

twentysomethinghoursofyourwinnow,becauseI’mnotgivingyouanymoreforfree.”I
pointedatthefrontofmydress.“Unlessofcourse—”Ismiled“—yousurrenderyourwinand
letmebeinchargeonceandforall.”

“ThereisnowayinhellI’msurrendering,MissStewart.”Hefishedasetofkeysoutofhis

pocketanddangleditinfrontofmyface.“Brianhaschangedthelicenseplateforourlittle

trip.”

Oh,God.
“We’renotracinganywhere,”Iwhispered,petrifiedatthethoughtofJettbehinda

steeringwheel.

Jett’seyestwinkled.“WhichiswhyIthoughtyoumightwanttodriveher.”
Ioverlookedthepartwherehekeptcallinghiscarasheinfavorofthefacthewasletting

medrivehisbeloved.Ihadneverdrivenanythingsoexpensiveandshiny.Iwasalmost
droolingatthethought.

Grinning,Igrabbedthekeysbeforehechangedhismind.“Nowyou’retalking.Howcould

Ipossiblyresistgoingforarideinyourbaby.”

“Ihopeit’snotgoingtobemyonlyridetonight.”HewinkedincaseImissedthesexual

undertones.

Heatscorchedmycheeks.Didhehavetobesoblunt?
“Thatdepends.”Iinclinedmyheadinmockconfusion.“Wherearewegoing?”
“BacktotheHamptons,”Jettsaid,amused.“Iforgotmybag.”

***

Itwasalittlepasteightp.m.whenwearrivedatKimDessen’splace.Withthemoonlight

castinganeerieglow,magnifyingitslargewindowsandthenarrowpathlinedwith
rosebushesleadingstraighttotheprivatebeach,thebuildinglookedmorebeautifulthanI
rememberedit.Jettunlockedthedoorandturnedoffthealarm,butdidn’tswitchonthelights.

Weclimbeddownthestairspastseveraldoorsandenteredadarkroom.Jettpresseda

switchandtheentirepoolwaslitupinsoftblueandgreencolors,theunderwaterlight
bouncingoffthedarkwallslikeitwastheonlysourceoflight.Igaspedatthemagnificence
andthesizeoftheplace.Onthewestsidewereloungesandabar.Thepoolhadahuge
elongateside,andasmallercircularone.Oppositefromitwasalargeplasmatelevisionset
fittedonthewall.

“Wow.”Ispuninaslowcircle.“Thisplaceisheavenly.”
Andtranquil.MuchmoreamazingthananypublicindoorswimmingpoolorspaIhad

everseen.Iwatchedthecolor-changingwater,immersedinthesparklingunderwaterlights.

“Iloveit.Completelyloveit,”Isaid,unabletoholdbackmyenthusiasm.
“Careforaswiminthepool?Orshouldwetryoutthetheater?”Inthedarkness,mygaze

searchedforJettandfoundhimstandingatthestairsofthepool.Hehadkickedoffhisshoes
andhisfeetwereinthewater,hiseyesbeckoningmetoinchcloser.

“You’regivingmeachoice?”Iasked,fakingsurprise.
“Morelikeaquestionwhatyouwanttodofirst,becausewe’llbedoingboth.”He

grinned,revealingthetwomostgorgeousdimplesintheworld.“Wehavealongnightahead,
duringwhichIintendtopushyourboundariesandseewhatmakesyoutick.Orsqueal.I’m
goingtodiscoverallyoursecretspots.”

“Mysecretspotsaren’tsosecretanymore,”Isaid.
“I’msureyou’vekeptoneortwohidden.”Heflashedmeagrinthatmademyheartsink

inmychest.“Iknowathingortwoyoudon’tyetknowaboutyourself.”

Slowlyhebegantoremovehisclothes.Hisjeans.Hisshirt.Hisunderwear.Thepool

lightsbathedhisskininasoftglow;theshadowsdidnothingtohidehisperfection.

Ifoundmyselfsmilingwhenhestrolledintothewaternaked.Icould’vestayed

transfixedtothespot,watchinghimforhours.

“Comein,Brooke,”Jettsaid,slowly.
“Shouldn’twebetakingashowerfirst?”
“You’reright.”Hesteppedoutofthewaterandcametowardme.Ithoughthe’dshowme

thewaytothebathroombutinsteadheliftedmeinhisarmsandwalkedwithmebackinto
theswimmingpool.

Hoveringinhisarmsabovethesurfaceofthewater,Isquealedandfoughthisirongrip

whenacoldwetsensationseepedthroughthematerialofmydressandreachedmybutt.It
wascold.Scratchthat.ItwassofreezingIthoughtImightseeicecubesfloatingaroundme.An
instantlater,Jett’sarmsweregone,andIplungedintothewater,thecoldnessspreading
aroundmylimbs.

“Seriously?Ihateitwhenpeopledothat,”IsaidthemomentIbrokethesurfaceofthe

waterandwipedmyeyes,probablysmearingmymake-upallovermyface.Mydresswas
soakingwet—floatinglikeahalobecausethethinfabricwassolightitdidn’tstayunderwater.
Jettlaughed.No.Makethathelaughedhysterically.

“Stoplaughinglikeahyena.”Isplashedhim.

“I’msorry.”Hegrinnedsheepishly.
“No,you’renot.”
Itriedtoswimtotheedgewhenhegrabbedmywaistandpulledmeagainsthisnaked

body.“You’recutewhenyou’reangry,Brooke.”

“I’mnot,”Isaid,unabletostopmyteethfromchattering.“It’sfrickin’cold.”
“You’llbewarmeronceyougetoutofthisdress.”Hedidn’twaitformyreply.Within

secondshisexperthandshadundonethezipperandpulledthedressdownmyshivering
body,thentosseditontheedgeofthepool.

“Better?”heasked.Therewasasparkofmischiefinhiseyes.Andhewasstillgrinning.I

frownedwhenhedisappearedbeneaththesurface.Washegoingtoretrievemyhigh-heels?

“No,it’sstillcold.”Idoubtedheheardme.Lookingdown,Isawhimdiving.Hisnaked

bodyshimmeredunderwater,headingstraightforme.Likeafish.Orwashesupposedtobe
shark?

Oh,God.
Hewouldn’tdare,wouldhe?
Hedid.
Hegrabbedmyleftfootandpulledmeunderwateruntilmyfacewasatthesamelevelas

his.Myeyeswereopenashedrewmetohimandkissedme,hislipspressingagainstmine.
Foramoment,Ialmostforgotwewereunderwater.Itwasthefeelingoffreedom.Itwas
perfect,soperfectthatwordsfailedme.

Heletgoofmeandtogetherwebrokethesurface.
“I’vealwayswantedtodosomethinglikethis,”Jettsaid,laughing.Hishairlookedlikea

sexymess.

“You’vegotballs,Jett.Pullingmeunderlikethat.”Ihadlovedit,butIwasn’treadyto

admititbecauseIwasstillshivering.

“It’snotthatcold.”
Hewasright.Itwasn’tthatcold.
Itwasdamnicy—socoldIcouldn’tevenfeelmylimbs.
“Youknowit’sfreezing,”Isaid,“andkissingwasyoursolutiontokeepuswarm?”
Heshrugged.“Youalwaysmanagetoheatmeup.Doyouwanttotryagain?”
“No.”Ishookmyheadandstoppedhimbeforehedived.“Don’teventhinkaboutit.I

don’twanttogethypothermia.”

“Youwon’t,”hesaid.“Justkeepmoving.”
Itiltedmyhead.“Easyforyoutosay.You’reaman.Youdon’tfeelthecoldlikeIdo.”
“You’reright,babe.That’sbecauseseeingyounakedalwaysraisesthetemperaturea

fewdegrees.”Thecornersofhislipstwitched.

Ifrowned,suddenlyseeingtheconnection.“Isthatwhyyouaskedmetogetoutofmy

dress?”

“I’mnotsure.Ithoughtit’dhelp.”Hehelduphishandinaninnocentgesture.“I’mjust

sayingitwouldturneverymanon.Itsureturnsmeonseeingyournipplesharden.”

“Listen,Tarzan.”Ipokedafingerinhischest,unabletoremainpissedoff.“Nomore

funnystunts.”Thewaterbarelyreachedmychin.Irubbedmyarmstoinfusesomewarmth
intothem.Itdidn’thelp.

“It’sgoingtogetwarmer,Ipromise,”Jettsaid.“Giveitafewminutesuntilthepoolheats

up.”Hewrappedhisarmsaroundmeandpulledmeagainsthischest.

Warmwaterbegantopulsatefromalldirections.Theknotsinmymusclesbegantoease

andIgrewmorerelaxedwitheveryminute.Theunderwaterlightschangedfrombluetoa
fluorescentgreen—darkandshimmeringbeautifullikethecolorofemerald.Justafewshades
lighterthanJett’seyes.

“Haveyoueverdonethisbefore?”Iasked.
Jettshotmeasidewayglance.“What?”
“Breakingandentering.”
“I’mnotexactlybreakingin.”
“You’reright.Youhadakey,onboththisandthepreviousoccasion.”Iputonthemost

seriousexpressionIcouldmuster.“Unlockingandentering,then?”

“TheonlythingIneedtounlockisyou.”Helaughedoutloud.“Honestly,it’sthefirst

time,butyou’vegottoadmitKimhasanicehouse.”Heswaminacircleandthenpulledme
closeagain.Iwrappedmylegsaroundhiswaist,knowingwellhecouldn’tresist.“Weshould
doitmoreoften,”Jettwhispered.“Visitproperties,makesurethey’rewellmaintained.Unlock
alltheplaceswehavetosee.”

Hewasn’ttalkingabouthouses.
JettgrabbedmyassandIlookedupintohiseyes.Theywereglinting,fullofmischief.Full

ofhopeandpromises.

Withmylegswrappedaroundhim,hecarriedme.Ididn’tputupafight.EvenifItried,I

wouldn’thavebeenstrongenoughtopushhimandswimaway.

“Wherearewegoing?”Iasked.
“Themiddleisheated,”hesaid.
Everypoolisheated,Iwantedtopointout.
“YouknowIcan’tresistseeingyouwet.”Hegavemeaslylook,andIrememberedwe

wereintruders.

“Ican’tbelieveyoujumpedinnaked.Whatifsomeonecaughtus?”
Helaughedatmymortifiedexpression.“Sowhat?It’sworththetrouble.It’sworth

everythingwhenyou’rewithme.Nottakingtheriskisfarriskier.”

Westoppedatthesideofthepool,rightbelowthesculptedstatueofaGreekgoddess

toweringoverus.Thewaterwaswarmerhere.

“Ready?”Jettwinkedandpressedhispalmagainstwhatlookedlikeaninconspicuous

whitetile.Instantly,hotwaterbegantoshootfromsmallopenings,shiftingaroundmythighs
andlowerbackinafastspiral.IhadbeeninaJacuzzibefore,butthiswasdifferentbecause
thebubblesdidn’treachthesurface.MyarmswentaroundJett’sneck,andhiseyesmetmine
withsuchintensityittookmybreathaway.

Thelightsinthepoolbegantochange,turningdarkeranddarkeruntilthesurfacewas

almostblackandthelightsunderwatertwinkledlikestarsinthenightsky.Ifeltasthoughwe
werefloatinginagalaxyamidststars.Aminutepassed,thenanother,andthelightschanged
togreenagain.

Itwasoutoftheordinary.NothingIhadseenbefore.
ItwassohauntinglybeautifulIwishedIcouldtakeapictureandhangitonthewallin

myoffice.Intheserenityaroundus,Ibrushedmyfingertipsalonghisjawline,prayingIcould
freezetimeandholdontothismomentforever.

“It’samazing,”Isaid.“Iwanttocapturethemomentofusandtreasureitforever.”
“Noneed.Ourfutureholdsplentymoreofsuchmoments.”Hetracedthecontoursofmy

lips,sendingatingledownmyneck,rightintomyheart.“You’renotjustanygirlforme.You’re
theonlyonethatmatters,andIhavenointentiontoeverletyougobecauseeverymoment
withyouisalittlemorethanamazing.”

“You’relying.”IlaughedeventhoughIfeltalittlebitlikecryingbecausehiswords

matchedthewayIfeltabouthim.

Hismagnificentgreeneyesboredintome,andittookmybreathaway.“WhywouldIbe?

I’venoplanstogiveyouanythinglessthanyoudeserve,andyoudeservetheworld,”he
whispered.“IwishIhadmetyousooner.”

Ididn’treply.Icouldn’tbecausemyheartwasdoingcartwheels,andmymindwas

spinning.

“EvenknowingImighthavepushedyouaway?Orfallenpregnant?”Iaskedatlast.
“Especiallybecauseofthat.Iloveachallenge,andyouprovideplentyofthat,”he

whispered.“Webothknowyoupushedmeawaybecauseyoulovebeingchased.Yougot
pregnantbecauseyouwantedmybaby.”

Islappedhisarm.
“Youcouldn’tkeepitinyourpantsandthat’sthereason.”Ireturnedhissmile.Inspiteof

thetranquilityinsideme,lifetuggedatme,growing,areminderourfuturewouldbringmany
challenges.“I’msoafraidI’llgethugeanduglylikeawalrus.”

“What?”Helaughed.“Youcouldneverlookugly.”
“Howdoyouknow?”Iwhispered.“InafewweeksI’llbeallbloatedandthesizeofa

balloon.”

“Ijustknow,”hereplied.“Everytimeyoutellmeyourhair’samessandhowmuchyou

hateit,Ifindyouthemostbeautiful.Ican’twaittoseeyougrow,knowingthatourbabyispart
youandpartme,ourbestqualitiesmergedintoonebeing,andthere’snothinguglyabout
that.”Hesmiledgently.“Icannotpromisethatcarryingthischildwillbeeasy,butIcan
promiseI’llcarryyouwhenyouneedme.I’llsupportyoualltheway.”

Ileanedmyheadagainsthisshoulder,andhewrappedhisarmaroundme,drawingme

close.Inthesilenceoftheroomandinthestillnessofthewater,Jett’spresencewas
overpowering.Hewaseverywhere,insidemymind,ineverycellofmybody,settleddeep
withinme.Hewaslikewater,pouringintome,fillingmetoalmostoverflow,drawingme
under.SoonI’dbedrowninginmyfeelingsforhim.Soonourpassionwouldbecomeacurrent,
drawingmeintothedepthstokeepmewithhimforever,andclaimingmeashis.

Hiseyesglistenedinthesoftglowofthelights,andinthetranquilityofthisplacehis

loveformewasunmistakable,andhispassionwasdefinite.Hedidn’thavetoaskmewhatI
feltforhimorwhatIwanted.Heknew.Iknew.Thewholeworlddid.

Icouldseemyownfeelingsandlustreflectedinhiseyesandfeeltheminthewayhe

touchedme.Strangethatwehadvoicestotalk,andyetourheartsspokelouder.Askingand
yetnotrequesting.Pleadingandyetnotforcing.Makingusawaretherewasonesingletruthin
thatsinglemoment:wewereinlove.

Holdingontoeachother.Crazyabouteachother.Lostinourjungleofpassionand

fulfillment,wewereinsatiable.Weweretwoofonemind.

Hiseyesprobedminewithagentlenessthattookmybreathaway.EvenifIwantedto

talk,Icouldn’t.Iwasafraidtobreakthemomentbecauseitwasours.Inthesolitudeofthe
wallsaroundus,itdidn’tmatterwherewecamefromorwhatjourneywehadbeenon.It
didn’tmatterhowmuchpainwecarriedorwhethertheworldwascomingtoanend.Allthat

matteredwastherewasstillanus—aftereverythingthathappened.Thefuturewasuncertain,
buthislovewasnot.

Jettleanedinandkissedmegently,thetipofhistonguearousingme.Hislipsweresoft,

notdemanding,asifhehadallthetimeintheworld.Hishandstouchedmyback,myhips,
sendingjoltsoflustthroughmybody.OntheoutsideIwasshaking—notfromthecoldbut
fromwant.OntheinsideIwastrembling,pulsating,asking—withneed.Hepressedme
againstthewallhard,andIwrappedmylegsaroundhiswaist.Myhandsranthroughhishair
andgatheredatthenapeofhisneckashisgrowingerectionbrushedmyentry.

Jett’sexpressiontriggeredasurgeofarousalinsideme.Mycorepulsated,askingfor

him.Mywholebeingburnedandflickered,boilingwithagrowingdesireonlyhecouldstill.He
pushedmeuphighagainstthewall,andhisbodypressedintome,hishandscuppingmyass.

Iletmyhandglidebetweenourbodiestoguidehim,eventhoughhedidn’tneed

guidance.

Jettneverdid.
Imoaned,andhisharderectionenteredme,fillingeverylastcorner.Ishiftedmyhipsto

lethimslidejustalittledeeper,eventhoughhewastoobigtobear,hisunnaturalwarmth
searingme.

Andthenhebegantomove,thewarmwaterrollinggentlyaroundus,justlikethethick

shaftinsideme.Myinsidesclenchedasthethrustsbecameharderanddeeper,stretchingme.
Witheverythrusthehitmycore,sendingapleasantshotofpainthroughmethatmademe
callouthisname.Pressedbetweenhimandthewarmwall,IrockedagainsthimuntilIcould
feeltherelease,andwhenIcame,hisbodybecamemysanctuary.

Chapter 30

MYDRESSWASdrippingwet,thethinfabriccompletelytransparent.Ihadonlytwo

options:walkaroundthehouseinawet—andtransparent—dress,orstaynaked.Ifigured
therewasn’treallyadifference.

“Great.”IglancedaroundmeinthehopeImightspysomethingsuitabletoprotectmy

modesty.“Youcouldhavewarnedmebeforepushingmeintothepool.”

“ItoldyouIneededyouwet.”Histonewascasual,butIdidn’tmisstheamusedflickerin

hiseyes.“Wetisgood,baby.Ilikethewayitfeels.”

Holymotherofdoublemeanings!
Mycheekscaughtfireathisinsinuationand,likeoncue,moisturegatheredbetweenmy

legs.Healwaysgotmewet,whetherIwanteditornot.And,unfortunately,heknewit.

Iwatchedhimslipintohisjeans,whichheleftunbuttoned,revealingrowsofhard

musclesandbronzeskin.Ipointedtohisshirthepickedupfromthefloor.“Goodforyou.At
leastoneofusisdry.”Icaughthimglancingatthewatch.“What’syournextplan?”

“We’regoingoutside.”
Inarrowedmyeyes.“Where?”
Hetiltedhishead.“Tothebeach.”
“Nobreak?”
“Nope.”Hisgazewasrelentless.“I’mnotwastingoneminute.”
Thedressthen.IbentdowntopickitupandcaughtJettglancingatmynakedass.No

surprisetofindhimgrinning.

“Ihopeyou’renotgoingtowearthat.”Hepointedtothedressinmyhand.“Ilovethe

wayyouarejustnow.”

“Naked?”
Thecornerofhislipstwitched.“Yep,aunatural.Withnoflavors,noadditives,nomake-

up.Strippedofallthelayers.”Hesmiledhismostsaccharinesmile.“Justrawpureness.”

“Pleasedon’taskmetorunaroundnaked,Jett.”
“Iwasn’tgoingtoask.”Hiseyestwinkled—probablyatthethoughtofhavingmeathis

mercy.“Iwasgoingtoplead.”

“Noway.”Islippedintothewetdress.Itwasuseless.ItwassotransparentthatIcould

seetheoutlineofmynipples.AndjudgingfromJett’sgrin,thathadbeentheplanallalong.I
crossedmyarmsovermychestandputonmymostseriousexpression.Grinningwouldonly
encouragethatinflatedegoofhis.Actuallygrinningwouldencouragehimtodonaughty
things,andI’dprobablyendupplayingalongjustforthesakeofit.

Ormaybebecauseyouwanthimasmuchashewantsyou.
“Youcanwearthis,baby.”Hepushedhisdryshirtintomyhands.Ipresseditagainstmy

chest,realizingitwasshorterthanmydressandwouldprobablybarelycovermybutt.

“Seriously?”
Hewasstandingbeforemehalfnaked,withnothingbuthisjeansandmuscleson

display.Hecaughtmyappreciativegazeandinresponseflexedhischestmuscles,the
movementmakinghistattoocomealive.Butthatwasn’twhatmademeswallowhard.Hard
anddefined.Likeabronzestatue.HisbodywassosexyIwantedtotrailmytonguealloverit.

“Areyoushy?Orareyoujustpretending?”Heremovedmyarmsfrommychestandheld

themup.Insidethepoolwaterhadcoveredmybody.Nowitwasjustthethinlayerofmy

dress,andunderhisgazeIfeltexposed.

“There’snothingtohide,baby.You’resexyandyou’rebeautiful.Iloveeveryinchofyour

body.”Hisgazesweptovermeinawaythatmademeblush.Heplacedmyhandsonhishard
stomach.“Ilikeyoutouchingme.Andthat’snottheonlythingIwantyoudoingtome.”

Hiseyesmetmine,andIcouldn’tstopmymouthgoingdryatthethoughtofhavinghim

insidemeagain.

“I’mbeginningtothinkyou’reinsatiable,Jett,”Imuttered.“Eitherthat,oryou’reasex

addict.”

“MaybeIam.”Hegrinned.“OrmaybeI’mjustsayingthatIcan’tgetenoughofyou.”
Hedrewmymouthtohisandkissedmesoftly.
“Iwasthinkingweshouldskipthebeachwalkandjustwatchamovie.Yourealizewe’ve

neverdonethat?”Awickedgrinappearedonhislips.“Inthedarkness,justyouandme.”

“Nowthatsoundstempting.”IlikedtheideaofdarknessandJett,andthewayhesaidit

madeitsoundlikehesharedmynaughtythoughts.

Heheldopenthedoor.“Youfirst.”
Iwalkedin,turningtoseeifhewasfollowingme,andfoundhiseyesgluedtomyass

again.

“Niceview.”Henoddedappreciatively.Ishookmyheadandkeptonwalking.Asidelook

intooneofthelargemirrorsremindedmeIlookedhorrible.Myhairwasacompletemess.
Andmymake-uphadvanished.Bythetimewereachedthelongfoyer,Ihadmadeamentallist
ofallthethingsthatneededtakingcareof.

Changeintosomethingmoresuitable.
Blow-drymyhair.
Applymake-up.
Ievenponderedhowlongit’dtakemetodrymydresswithablowdryer.AndIhadto

insistoncleaningthehousebeforeleaving.Nowaywouldweleavecluesofourbreakingand
enteringbehind.ThelastthingweneededwasourDNAprintsorfluidsscatteredalloverthe
place.

“Canyougivemetwentyminutes?”Iaskedonthewaytothelivingroom.
“Tenminutes.”Hekissedmycheekandopenedthedoor.”Weonlyhavetwenty-two

hoursleftandI’mnotdeductingyourminutesfrommymeagerhours.”Hegrinnedandthen
slappedmyassplayfully.“Don’tkeepmewaitingtoolong,woman.”

Thesouthernaccentagain.
Igiggledandheadedforthestairs,thenrememberedthiswasn’tourhome.Weweren’t

evenguests.Istoppedinthemiddleofthestairs.Jetthadn’tmovedfromhisspot.

“Whataboutthehouse?”Ipointedtothewetfootprintsonthemarblefloor.“Weneed

tocleanup.”

“Don’tworryyourprettyheadaboutit,”Jettsaid.“Cleanersarecominginforanopen

daynextweek.They’lltakecareofeverything.Besides,Kimknows.”Hewinked.“Sheeven
gaveusherblessing.”

Epilogue

ITWASOURfirstvacationtogether.JettandIhadarrivedatthelushHawaiianresort

threedaysagoandhadbarelylefttheroomforanythingotherthantoeatandgivethepoor
cleaningladysomespace.

“Careforavisittothebeach?”Jettasked.Inthemoonlightfloodingthroughthe

restaurant’swindow,hisfacewasnothingbutbeautyandpuresexiness.

Ishruggedandinterlacedmyfingerswithhis.“Soundsgood.It’snotlikeIcansleep.”
“I’llhelpyouchangethat,”Jettwhispered,andledmeoutoftherestaurantanddownthe

pathoftrees,shrubs,andbushestothebeach.

Itwastrue.EversinceIwasheldhostageandwokeupinthehospital,Icouldn’tsleep

becausefearkeptmeawake,whichwaswhyJetthadinsistedontakingthisvacation.Iwas
supposedtorest,toliveandforget.Ileanedagainsthisarm,enjoyingthedelicioussensation
thesoundofhisvoicesentthroughme.

Theskywaspitchblack,dottedwiththousandsofstars.Ihadseenitbefore,butthis

timeitseemedmorebeautifulthanever.Asifmybadexperiencesmademeappreciatethe
viewmore.OrmaybebecausewheneverJettwasaround,thewholeworldseemeddifferent.
Sereneandcolorful.Fullofmagicandmystery.Pureperfection—justlikethemanIloved.

Hespreadhisjacketonthesoftsandandsatdown,thewaterjustinchesfromourfeet.

Slowly,hewrappedhisarmaroundmyshoulders.Engrossedinourthoughtsandeachother’s
presence,wewatchedthewavesoftheoceancrashingagainsttheshore.

Ismiledathimandrubbedmycheekagainsttheroughnessofhisstubble,wishingI

couldcollectthemagicofthemomentinabottleandkeepitforever.

“It’ssobeautifulhere,”Iwhispered,andlookedupatthesky.Hedidn’treply.Atsome

pointIrealizedJettwaslookingatme—asifIwastheonlystarinhisnightsky.Iturnedto
regardhim,andJettkeptlookingatme,hiseyesmeetingminewithgentleness.

Foroncehissilencedidn’tworryme,becausenowordswerestrongorexpressive

enoughtocapturethebeautyofthemoment.Nowordscouldexpressthemagnitudeofmy
feelingsforhim,orhowmuchIwantedustohaveafuture.Nowordscouldexpresshowmuch
Ididn’twanttolethimgo—notyet,notnow,andsurelynever.Itwassad,really,becauseifwe
wereinadreamI’dwishwe’dneverwakeupfromit.

Butitwasreality,andwhileIwantedtoforgetthepast,therewereuglyremindersthat

lingeredatthebackofmymind.Danny.TheestateIneverwantedbuthadinherited
nonetheless.Thelawyer,Clarkson,who’ddisappeared.Inthisreality,withthewaythings
wereprogressing,Iknewlifewouldgoon,andthelittlemomentsIspentwithJettwouldnot
stayforever.

Likebubbles,thismomentwouldrisetogreatheightsuntilsomeday,Ijustknew,it

wouldburst—littledropletswe’dstruggletoholdonto,falling,untilthefragments
disappeared,leavingbehindnothingbutafleetingmemory.Adream.Iswallowedhard,
remindingmyselfnevertotakeanymomentwiththeloveofmylifeforgranted.Becauseit’d
passtoofast.Inaheartbeat.Lostforever.

“Whatareyouthinking?”Jettasked.“Youjusthadthestrangestexpressiononyour

face.”

Iponderedforafewsecondswhethertotellhimornot,whenIrememberedSylvie’s

adviceonrelationshipsandhonesty.Intheserenityofthenight,withthesoothingsoundsof

theoceanenvelopingus,IknewIcouldtrusthimthewayIhadtrustedhimwhenItoldhim
aboutmypast.Byconfidinginhim,wehadbecomeonemind—connectedinsomeway,like
thewatertothemoon.

Likethetides.
“Iwanttokeepallmyhappymemorieswithyou,becausethey’retheonlythingthat

remainofthepast,butIdon’tknowhow.”Irestedmyheadagainsthisshoulder.“Iseethe
starsinthesky,andtheymakemethinkoflife.Ofthemanyplansdwellinginsidemymind,
buthowfewmemoriesIhave.NomatterhowhardItry,Ican’tchoosewhichmemoriesIwant
tokeeporwhichIcanforget.SoI’vebeenwonderingwhat’sthepurposeofcreatingmemories
ifIcan’tkeepthemall?”

Jetttookadeepbreathandletitoutslowly.“Youdon’thavetotrysohardtoremember

them,Brooke,”hewhispered.“Themomentsthatmeanthemosttoyoustayetchedinyour
mind.Theymightbefew,butthosearetheonlyonesthatmatter.”

Iturnedtohim,takinginhisbeautifuleyes.“Howdoyouknow?”
Heshrugged.“DoyouknowwhyIhadthetattoosdone?”
Hisquestionthrewmeoffbalance.
“No,”Iadmitted.
Heliftedhisshirt.Underthemoonlight,hisskinshimmeredgolden,theblacktribal

tattooshauntinglybeautiful.“IhadthemdonetohelpmerememberallthethingsIdon’twant
toforget.”Hepointedtotheupperoneonhisshoulder.“Thisonehelpsmerememberhow
hardmyfatherwasandallthelessonshetaughtme.Italsoremindsmethattruepower
comesnotfromsubmissionorgain,butfromcontrollingmyinnerdemons.Becauseourtrue
enemieslivewithinourselvesandfeedfromthelessonswefailedtolearnfromourpasts.”He
arrangedhisshirtbackinplace.“EversinceIgotmytattoos,mybadmemorieshavebecome
goodmemories.Evenvaluable.”

“MaybeIshouldgetmyowntattoo,”Isaid.
Helaughedandtiltedhisheadtotheside.“I’mnotsureIwantyourskincoveredinink.I

loveitthewayitisjustnow.”Asthoughtoprovehispoint,hisfingertipbrushedmy
collarbone,sendingashiverdownmyspine.

“AreyoutellingmewhatIcan’tdowithmyskin?”Iraisedmyeyebrows,whichmade

himlaughharder.

“Ifwe’retalkingaboutasmallone.”Hepointedtomyankle.“Atinyonethat’snot

noticeable,thenfeelfreetocomealong.I’mgettinganewonesoon.”

“Younevertoldmeyouwantedanewone.”
“Yeah,well,Ididn’tknowuntilImetyou.”
Heloweredmeontomybackandsettledontopofme,hisdarkgreeneyeslingeringon

me.BeneathmeIcouldfeelthesandonmyskin.Itwascoldbutnotunpleasant.“Youknowthe
feelingyougetwhenyouthinkyouhearmusic,anditmakesyoustopinyourtracks,
completelyabsorbed?Well,that’showIfeltwhenIkissedyoufortheveryfirsttime.Iknew
rightthenthatIcouldloveyou.Thenightinthebar?Thatwasthebestthingthatever
happenedtome,andthat’swhatIwantmynexttattootoremindmeof.Iwantyourfaceon
myskin.Somethingtolookatwhenyou’renotaround.”

“Noway,”Isaid,laughing.“You’renotdoingthat.Whatifwefightandyoucometo

regretit?”

Heshookhisheadslowly.“Never.”Hewassoseriousthatmylaughterdiedinmythroat.

“I’veneverbeenthismuchinlove.AndneverbeforedidIfeelthedesiretohavesomeoneas
muchasIwantyouinmylife.So,you’restuckwithme,MissStewart.Whetheryouwantitor
not.”

“IhopeI’llbestuckwithyouforalongtime,”Iwhispered.“Becausemomentspassway

toofast.”

“NotifIholdontothem,”Jettsaid,addingsoftly,“Notifthey’rereal.”
Hesmiled,andforthefirsttimeIfelthopeful.
“Ihopeourchildgetsyourlongeyelashes,”hesaid,hisbreathwarmbrushingmylipsas

hishandscaressedmyface.“Infact,ifwehaveagirl,we’renamingherTreasure.”

Whoa,hehadchosenourkid’snamealready?Withoutme?
“Hell,no.”Isnorted.
“Whynot?”Hishandtrailedupmythigh,gatheringinthewaistbandofmyjeans.“Isaid

itonceandI’llsayitagain.You’remytreasure,Brooke,sothename’sperfectforher.”

“That’sdebatable.”Itriedtopushhishandaway,butitwasafeebleattempt.“Besides,

whatmakesyouthinkit’sagirl?”

“Ithastobe.”Hislipscurledupatonecorner.“ButintheoffchanceI’mwrong,I’llletyou

pickoutaboy’sname.”Hismouthfoundmine,andunderthestars,nokisscould’vebeen
moreperfect—amomentIhopedwouldneverend.

Life’suncontrollable,unpredictable,andahellofamess.Withoutfear,loss,andthe

wrongchoiceswemade,wewouldn’tbewhowewere.Andwhilesomeofourdecisionshad
brokenus,thepaingluedustogether.Withoutthepassion,wewouldn’thavesurrenderedand
conqueredwhatweneverthoughtcouldbeours.WithoutJett’slove,Iwouldn’thavelearned
thetruevalueofourrelationship.

WhenJettsavedme,hesavednotonlymylife,butalsomyhopesandourfuture.He

allowedmetobelievethatourlovewouldneverfadeaway.HeleftamemoryIdidn’twantto
forget,andnowIwasreadytotreasurehisloveforever.

TheEnd

What’s next from J.C. Reed

EversinceSurrenderYourLovewasreleased,I’vebeenaskedtocontinueJett&

Brooke’sstory.WhileTreasureYourLoveconcludestheSurrenderYourLovetrilogy,like
manyreadersI’vefounditincrediblyhardtopartwithmycharacters,andsoI’vedecidedto
giveBrookeandJettaspecialeditionvolumestartingthisChristmas:

Experiencehowthepastneverstaysthepast.

NoExceptionsisnotpartoftheSurrenderYourLovetrilogy.It’smoreofanadditional

novelcollectionforreaderswhowanttofindoutwhathappensafterJettandBrooke’s
happily-ever-after,andtoSylvieandKenny,DannyandLiz.

Thismeans,I’mworkingontwoprojects:onebeingNoExceptions,andtheotherisa

newserieswithcompletelynewcharacters,dueforreleaseinearly2014.Pleasesubscribeto
mynewsletterfornews,teasers,andgiveaways.

To My Readers: A thank you letter

TherearesomanythingsIwanttosayattheendofabook,andparticularlyattheendof

suchanemotionaljourney.Firstofall,thestoryofBrookeandJettteachesthatlove,ifit’sthe
realdeal,can’tbebroken.It’sworththepainandanybadexperiencesthatmaycomewithit.
AndwhileTreasureYourLoveisfictional,Iwroteittoshowthatlifeisawildride,andthere
arenoguarantees.

Becausereviewsarehardtocomeby,andbecausereadersrarelywritethem,Iwantto

thankeveryonewho’stakenthetimetoleaveone,nomatterhowshort.

Myutmostgratitudegoestothemanybloggers(manyofwhomI’vehadthepleasureto

gettoknow),andtoallwhohavesupportedmeandhelpedspreadthewordonFacebook,
Twitter,andonblogs.You’vebeennothingshortofamazing.

Iwanttothankmyeditorsfortheirhardwork.Ihadanamazingtimeworkingwithyou.
But,mostofall,Iwanttothankmyreaders.Youhaveamazedmewithyourkind

messages,andwhileIcan’thugyouall,IcanatleastwritethisnotetotellyouhowthankfulI
amforyoursupport.Thankyouforreadingandenjoyingthistrilogy.

THANKYOUfromthebottomofmyheart.

JessicaC.Reed

***

Connectwithmeonline:

http://www.jcreedauthor.blogspot.com
http://www.facebook.com/pages/JC-Reed/295864860535849
http://www.twitter.com/jcreedauthor

Document Outline

CONTENTS
- TITLE
  - COPYRIGHT
  - PART 1
  - CHAPTER 1
  - CHAPTER 2
  - CHAPTER 3
  - CHAPTER 4
  - CHAPTER 5
  - CHAPTER 6
  - CHAPTER 7
  - CHAPTER 8
  - CHAPTER 9
  - CHAPTER 10
  - CHAPTER 11
  - CHAPTER 12
  - CHAPTER 13
  - CHAPTER 14
  - CHAPTER 15
  - PART 2
  - PROLOGUE
  - CHAPTER 16
  - CHAPTER 17
  - CHAPTER 18
  - CHAPTER 19
  - CHAPTER 20
  - CHAPTER 21
  - CHAPTER 22
  - CHAPTER 23
  - CHAPTER 24
  - CHAPTER 25
  - CHAPTER 26
  - CHAPTER 27
  - CHAPTER 28
  - CHAPTER 29
  - CHAPTER 30
  - EPILOGUE
  - AUTHOR LETTER
- Jessica C. Reed

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