Jake: The Sinner Saints #3 (11 page)

“Yeah, I’ll tell him,” she said. “And you stay safe out there.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” he said. “I will.”

“And come home soon,” she added.

Jake pressed his lips together as he lowered his phone and ended the call.

That was one thing he couldn’t promise. Not yet.

Chapter Eight

The sun had just started to dip down below the horizon when Jake drove back into Augustville. Verity wrenched around in her seat as the city limits sign flew past her window, certain that her eyes were playing tricks on her.

“Wait,” she said, trying not to let panic overtake her again. “Why are you bringing us back here?”

“Because it’s safer than anywhere else.” His voice was calm and steady, but the vague answer didn’t do anything to ease her anxiety.

“How can you be sure?” she prodded.

“Because I am.”

“But—”

“Because we already have a place to stay, and at this point finding somewhere new is riskier than staying put.” Jake kept his arm straight on the steering wheel and his eyes pointed dead ahead as he rattled off the rest of the reasons. “If we did move, our options are limited. The bigger the city, the more cops will be looking for us. Silas and Roman think we’re headed south, so staying to the north is safer. And this is the last location I gave the people back at my office, so they can find us if need be.”

Those were all decent reasons.

Still, the knot in the center of her belly refused to loosen. It had been there for the last couple of hours now, ever since her emotions had broken free from their cage, growing tighter and tighter with every dark thought that ran through her head, until it felt like she was going to snap and shatter completely.

What she needed was a release.

But how?

The answer came the moment Jake pulled into the parking lot. Verity’s eyes were instantly drawn to the neon signs burning bright in the window across the street.

The bar.

Why not? It had worked well enough for Jake. Hell, he’d hidden quite successfully from his troubles for months in a bar like that one. Surely, there wouldn’t be any harm in her doing the same for just one night. Hell, a few drinks might even dull a few of the relentless worries pounding against her skull. It was worth a shot.

And if that didn’t work, she could always get drunk enough to pass out. That was guaranteed to silence those terrifying thoughts for a couple of hours at least.

Verity scooped up her purse the moment the truck stopped. She threw open the door.

“Where are you going?” Jake called after her when she started walking away from the motel.

“Where does it look like?” If he expected her to stop and ask for permission, he was going to be terribly disappointed.

It only took him a few long strides to catch up with her, but to her surprise, he didn’t try to stop her.

“I thought you hated bars.” He fell into step beside her.

“I do,” she said as she started to cross the street. “But a day spent dodging bullets and running from the law has a way of making a girl reassess her fears.”

It must have been the truth, because Verity didn’t even feel a flutter of trepidation as she pulled open the tarnished metal door and strode right up to the bar. She found a couple of empty stools down near the end. She lifted herself up on one and gestured toward the bartender. A moment later, he came over.

“What can I get you?” he shouted over the loud music blaring from the speakers.

It wasn’t until then that Verity realized that she had absolutely no idea what to order.

She turned toward Jake.

“What were you drinking the other night?”

She could barely make out the little lines around his eyes crinkling in the low overhead lights.

“Bourbon,” Jake said.

Verity nodded and swiveled back around to the bartender. “Two doubles, please.”

The bartender didn’t bat an eye, but he did glance over at Jake.

“Neat,” he clarified.

The bartender nodded and grabbed two glasses. He pulled a bottle down from behind him and poured their drinks.

“Thanks,” she said, pulling some cash out of her purse as he slid the tumblers over.

She didn’t waste any time before picking up the glass and downing the contents.

Just like before, red-hot fire slid down her throat. Verity closed her eyes, though this time she didn’t mind the pain. If anything, she relished it. The sharp sting reminded her that she was alive. That all the demons at her door hadn’t succeeded in capturing her yet.

The heat hit her belly and immediately started radiating out, banishing some of the ice that had crept into her veins over the last few hours.

She let out a small sigh and opened her eyes to find Jake’s gaze focused on her. His expression, while undeniably intense, was completely inscrutable.

So, she didn’t try to figure it out.

She had other things to worry about.

Like how to drown her own sorrows and fears.

She looked down at his untouched glass.

“Not thirsty?” she asked with a raised brow.

Jake didn’t take his eyes off hers as he shook his head.

“Then why did you order it?” Verity asked.

“I didn’t.”

“That’s right.” Verity shot him a sly smile. “I did. I guess that means it’s mine.”

She reached over and grasped the tumbler, but Jake’s hand wrapped around hers before she could pull it back.

“What are you doing, Verity?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m drinking my problems away,” she answered honestly. “Or I would be, if you’d let go of me.”

He stepped in closer. So close that his leg deliberately pressed into hers. The simple touch did more to burn away the frost inside her than any drink could.

“It won’t work,” he said.

A dark laugh slipped from her lips before she could stop it. “It seemed to work for you.”

“No, it didn’t. All I did was make my troubles worse by pushing them away,” he said, his expression turning dark. “And I’ll be damned before I let you make the same mistake.”

Verity shook her head hard.

“The only mistake I ever made was believing that I could help Roman. That I could
save
him.”

The admission came out of nowhere. This wasn’t what she wanted to say. This was exactly the kind of emotion that she was trying to hide from—messy and confusing and painful as hell.

Tears began to prick at her eyes, but Verity forced them back.

She yanked the glass free of his grasp, but then couldn’t seem to find the strength to lift it. Not with Jake looking at her like he was now. His expression was the same as it had been back at the lake. His eyes swimming with a mixture of understanding and resolve and…longing.

She had to be imagining that last bit. She had to be.

“You can’t blame yourself for Roman’s mistakes,” he said.

“I’m not,” she said honestly. “I’m blaming me for mine. I never should have come out here.”

“None of this is your fault, Verity.”

Dear God. Was she ever going to get used to the sound of her name on his lips? Soft and slow, she felt his voice like a gentle caress that did more to calm the roiling anguish inside her than any drink.

“No, you were right, Jake.” She spun the glass between her fingers and watched the amber liquid swirl along the sides. “I should have tucked tail and run at the first sign of trouble. If I had taken your advice, none of this would be happening. I would still have a job. I wouldn’t be hiding out from cops and heroin dealers.”

“And you’d hate yourself for not even trying,” Jake said. He crooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look up. “You’re a fighter, Verity.”

She shook her head. “I’m not.”

“You don’t want to be,” he said, not backing down. “But you are. You decided to come out here because you believed in your heart that the things you love are worth fighting for. You believed it so much that you even convinced me.”

“Yeah, well, I was wrong.”

“No, what you are is upset and scared,” he said plainly. “I know everything seems like it’s going to hell, but Silas and Roman haven’t won yet. This isn’t over. We’re not done fighting. And you can’t give up.”

Verity swallowed hard.

“I get it,” she said. “You need me to be brave.”

“No.” Jake shook his head. “You
are
brave, Verity. One of the bravest people I’ve ever known. All you need to do is believe in yourself the way you believe in everyone else.”

Verity tried to discount his words, but she couldn’t, not completely. There was something so brutally honest in his deep voice. Did he really think of her like that?

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not as strong as you.”

“You’re right.” He traced his fingers down her arm until his hand covered the tumbler. “You’re stronger.”

Verity didn’t fight him as he slowly led her hand back down to the bar. She kept her fingers intertwined with his as he pulled them away from the glass.

Her heart began to pound. There was hardly any space between them now. Heat that had nothing to do with the fiery bourbon started to push its way up to the surface of her skin.

“So, what can I do to stop this ache in my heart?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the pull she felt toward him.

He leaned in even closer. “What do you want to do?”

Now, there was a loaded question if she’d ever heard one. And if she wanted him holding on to his good opinion of her, there was no way she was answering it…not honestly anyway.

But that still left the question—what
could
she do? She couldn’t drink. She couldn’t call Cheryl and vent. And it didn’t seem like a good idea to spend too much more time mooning over Jake’s warm brown gaze and even warmer caresses.

That didn’t leave a whole lot of other options.

She looked around the bar, her gaze stopping on the small dance floor. There were a few people out there, enough that she wouldn’t make a spectacle of herself if she joined them.

Why not? What did she have to lose besides a little pride?

“Do you dance, Jake?” she asked, swiveling around on her bar stool and slowly sliding down to the floor.

His brows pulled together at the question. “Haven’t in a long time.”

“Yeah, me neither,” she admitted as she slipped her hand from his. “But you’re welcome to join me if you want.”

She didn’t look back to see if he was following her as she walked the few steps across the bar. Instead, she squeezed her way in between the handful of couples and found a small space for herself.

Classic rock poured out of the speakers, not exactly Verity’s favorite, but it didn’t matter. Right now, all she cared about was the beat. She closed her eyes, fighting off the wave of self-consciousness as she began to sway her hips.

Maybe it was the bourbon in her blood, but it didn’t take long for the sense of embarrassment to fade. Her body, it seemed, wanted to move. She fell into the rhythm of the music easily. With every rise and fall her tension eased. She shook her head and her curls brushed against her cheeks.

It felt good. Hell,
she
felt good. For the first time since she could remember, she felt free.

Verity dared to open her eyes. Suddenly, she didn’t care so much if anyone was watching her, or what they thought. She wasn’t dancing for anyone but herself.

The music went on, wrapping around her, allowing Verity to lose herself inside it. So much so, that she started a minute later when a hand fell over her shoulder.

She spun around and found Jake standing behind her. She didn’t try to stop the smile that lifted her lips.

“So, you do dance,” she said.

“I don’t know about that,” he said. It must have been a trick of the light, but his eyes seemed to have darkened. “But with the way all the guys at the bar were staring at you, I figured I’d better get out here quick if I wanted the chance.”

“You don’t have to flatter me.” Her cheeks started to burn. She turned around to hide the sight. “I know nobody’s staring at me that way.”

A moment later, his arm wrapped around the curve of her waist. He pulled her back flush against his hard chest as the song ended. Another one started up a few seconds later. A ballad this time.

Great.

That was just what she needed—a slow dance with Jake.

But apparently the mix of bourbon and music made her bold. She swayed her hips to the downtempo melody, well aware that her ass brushed against him with every beat, and waited for him to ease his hold.

Instead, a bolt of electric fire raced through her as he pulled her even tighter against him and began to move with her. He dipped his head down, and Verity felt Jake’s warm breath wash over the top of her earlobe.

“Why do you always do that?” he asked, his tone hushed.

“Do what?”

“Dismiss yourself as undesirable. You’ve been doing it since the moment we met.”

Verity pressed her lips together. “I know what I am.”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re a smart woman, Verity,” he said. “But it’s pretty obvious that you don’t know a damned thing about yourself.”