The Family Jewels (17 page)

"I know you came here with Callahan, but I see the way you look at me,” his voice was a near whisper as he leaned into her. “He and I, we're acquaintances, not friends. If you left here tonight with him and then came back later..."

"Oh, I'm not certain-”

She broke off with a gasp, because suddenly his face went red and his hands were everywhere. One on her ass, yanking her close until she could feel his erection grinding into her, the other anchoring her by the back of the head as his face dipped low, thin, dry lips coming down toward hers.

"What is that?" he asked, his bleary blue eyes growing sharper by the second.

Her stomach flipped over as she realized that he’d felt it. The card she’d slipped beneath the waistband of her Catwoman underwear.

She pushed at his chest and took a step back, but it was too late. He was grappling under the hem of her shirt, pawing at her skirt.

"Countess Van Bergen of Bavaria," he growled as he held up the ace of spades between two fingers. "A fucking cheating slut, yes?" His eyes were like two slits now, snakelike and dead, but his smile was what chilled her to the core.

Her whole body started to tremble as he roughly grabbed her upper arm and squeezed.

“And I imagine you’re nobody’s Countess, right? You played me well, slut. Can’t call the cops, but it seems like some payback is in order here.” He ran a finger over the neckline of her blouse, and she knew the time had come to make a move, but before she could decide whether to gouge his eyes or try for his balls, a low voice sounded from across the room.

"Let her go, Hannigan."

Jake.

As quietly as he’d spoken, his words carried like a gunshot, and the room went silent as the men at the table finally realized something was amiss.

Relief warred with terror as she turned toward the doorway to see Jake standing there with her purse in hand, his face a mask of barely controlled fury.

Jesus Christ, he was going to blow it. This was so not part of the plan. He was supposed to be just as outraged as Hannigan. If he just gave her a chance, she could talk her way out of it.

"Let her go?” Alistair spat, the grip on her arm only getting tighter. “She was cheating us all.” He held up the card for Jake to see, but Jake didn’t so much as blink.

Blood pounded in her ears as her mind raced, searching desperately for something she could say or do that would jar Jake back to reality and do as they agreed...

“I’m sorry, Mr. Callahan. I shouldn’t have used your kind invitation so callously. I’ve run into some financial troubles and…please.” She let the very real tears threatening fill her eyes as she thought of the very real possibility that Jake could lose all the ground he’d worked so hard for because of her. “All of you. Just take your money back. You can even keep my stake. I’ll go quietly and you can-”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Alistair said.

“If you don’t take your hands off her, I will break your fucking jaw,” Jake murmured, so quietly she had to strain to hear him.

Alistair’s face went momentarily slack with shock as he stared at Jake.

"Are you in on this? You and this whore think you can steal from me? Or are you just pussy-whipped?" He tossed the card on the floor and grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her head back to hiss into her face, spittle flying as he did. "Nobody steals from Alistair Hannigan."

One second, she was imprisoned and wincing with pain, the next she was free, staring in shock as Alistair went down like he'd been shot between the eyes by an unseen sniper.

There was no gunman, though.

Just Jake, standing over the other man, fist cocked, eyes blazing silver fury.

"We’ve got to go," she whispered, crossing her arms over her stomach to quell the rising nausea. “We’ve got to go, right now.” He was quaking with rage, and while she was relieved to be freed, she could tell that the ramifications hadn't dawned on him yet.

It was over. She had just cost him the phony investment deal and any future chance of getting the inside track again. He’d made Hannigan his enemy tonight after working for years to become his friend, and it was her fault. If his plan to collect intel through Hannigan’s computer failed, he would have literally nothing.

Saliva pooled in her mouth as her stomach lurched. He would hate her for this, and she didn’t blame him one bit.

The four men at the table that had been watching the drama unfold in confusion finally pushed their chairs back and were heading into the fray when she stepped over Alistair’s prone figure and grabbed Jake's arm.

"Come on." She tugged, but he was like a brick wall, tense and straining the opposite way, obviously still debating whether he was done with Alistair, who peered up at him blearily, barely conscious. "It's not worth it. I'm fine, let's go."

"I'll have my ear to the ground,” Jake muttered, “and if I hear that you ever put your hand on a woman like that again, I'll find you, you squirrely son of a bitch. And I will kill you.”

Then he let her lead him away. The condition Jake had left Alistair in with only one punch and the fact that they didn’t even make an attempt to collect any of their money was obviously enough of an incentive that the other men let them leave unimpeded. By the time they got into Jake’s car, she was trembling from head to toe, the dump of adrenaline finally fading, leaving behind shock and fear.

"I’m sorry. I- I don't know what happened. I didn't even realize he'd come up behind me." She turned in the seat and stared at his unyielding profile. He hadn't said a word since they'd left the poker room and she couldn't take the stony silence anymore. "Jake, I'm so sorry."

"Stop, all right?" His tone was curt, but not cruel as he pulled the car onto the street. "It wasn't your fault. He's a cock-sucking snake. An immoral, woman-hating bastard. I shouldn't have let you get involved in this from the start. That was my mistake, not yours. If I thought there was any other way to talk you out of coming tonight, I would have."

"I all but blackmailed you into letting me come with you,” she murmured miserably. “Then, I wasn’t able to keep the card hidden. How could that possibly be your fault?"

"Because I've always done this alone.” His knuckles went bone-white as he gripped the wheel tighter. “It's taken me years to get this close, and I was stupid to bring someone else into the mix. This was all a huge mistake."

And there it was.

She sucked in a breath at the ice pick-stab of pain to her heart. She couldn't blame him one bit, considering the outcome, but it still killed her to know he probably wished he’d never laid eyes on her.

She squeezed her eyes closed to blink back the sudden rush of tears. Another half hour before they got to her apartment. What awful things must he be thinking of her right now?

And the worst part was, she deserved every one of them.

W
hat a selfish prick
.

He'd been so focused on his all-consuming revenge scheme that he had put her in harm’s way and had gotten her manhandled and threatened with rape, or something close to it.

Fresh rage poured through him, heating his blood anew and he resisted the urge to look at her. She would see his feelings. They were written all over his face, and she had enough to deal with right now. This ill-conceived plan had not only cost her emotionally, but the money she'd been counting on for Clarissa was gone, left on the table back at Alistair’s. Months of work on her part that had kept her from doing other jobs to make ends meet, and nothing to show for it.

"About the money," he said, breaking the silence between them.

"I know. I cost you twenty-five thousand dollars back there," she murmured miserably.

He glanced her way and was shocked by the broken expression on her face. "I don’t mean the money I left behind. I meant
your
money."

"Considering what else was lost tonight, that was the least of it."

His stomach clenched. He wasn’t ready to talk about that part yet. She seemed so lost and sad.

“I don’t agree. But let’s not talk about it right now. We can figure out what to do about that once we’ve both had time to calm down a bit, okay? Why don’t you lie back for a while and try to rest? I just…I need to think.”

She nodded listlessly and dropped her head back against the seat. For the remainder of the drive, they were silent. He’d spent the first half of it trying to erase the image of Hannigan yanking Sadie’s hair, and the second half lost in thought about where to go from here. By the time they pulled up to her apartment building, he still had no answers.

Sadie stirred and laid a hand on the door handle. “So what now?"

He shook his head slowly, wishing he could reassure her more, but feeling raw and out of sorts himself. "I don't know. But I know I can’t stomach the thought of leaving you alone tonight. Can I come in?”

She stared at him through wide-set dark eyes and nodded slowly. “Are you sure you want to?”

Things had gone so far off the rails, and he was as confused as hell, but one thing he knew for sure.

“I am.”

He didn’t know what he’d expected, but when they walked through her apartment door a few minutes later, he stopped short. Riding up the rickety elevator and walking down the dingy hallway had him wishing he could scoop her up and carry her back to his car. Bring her to his place and draw her a hot bath. She’d seen enough ugliness for one day, and the building was just another depressing reminder of how dire her circumstances were.

When he peered through the door, though, he was taken aback. It was tiny but it was spotless and, at first glance, looked like something out of a magazine. Modern, espresso-colored furnishings set against freshly-painted robin’s egg blue walls that were dotted with brightly-colored artwork. Flowers and plants sat in squat little pots, adding a feeling of warmth and life to the place. All in all, it looked like a very nice, if somewhat cramped, living space.

It was only after closer inspection that he realized it was all a series of clever illusions. The paintings were strategically placed to draw attention from the cracks in the walls. The couch legs were similar but mismatched, and every other piece of furniture had a ding or dent in it somewhere. Sadie had done an amazing job making lemon cakes out of lemons, but there was no question she was living hand to mouth.

And he hated it.

“Want something to drink?” she asked, tossing her purse onto the coffee table as she turned to face him. “I think I could use a glass of wine.”

He nodded. “Me too. You’ve done a really nice job with the apartment. Looks good.”

For a split second, the despair that seemed to wrap around her like a cloak faded for a second and she smiled at him. “You think?” She looked around, and nodded slowly. “It took a while to get all the pieces but it was really fun. I love going to flea markets and bargaining with the vendors and finding beautiful furniture that just needs some love to bring it back to life.”

His chest swelled with something sweet as he listened to her talk. “I know the feeling. In my old life, I used to make cabinets. Nothing like the feeling of seeing a plain piece of wood turn into something amazing. Makes you feel…satisfied.”

When had he last felt that way?

“You miss it,” she said simply, her keen eyes probing his face.

It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t bother to respond. The fact was, it didn’t matter whether he missed it or not. He had a mission to complete. Every extra day he spent trying to complete it was another that his father remained unavenged. Before he’d met Sadie, that very thing had been the force that drove him. The first thing he thought of when he woke up and the last thing he thought of when he lay his head down at night.

But now…

The smile on her face faded under his intense scrutiny and the pain returned to her face. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know it doesn’t count for much, but I need you to believe that I would do anything to change what happened ton-”

“Shh.” He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. “All I want right now is to be with you. Lay next to you and smell your hair, feel your skin against mine.”

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say more but then shut it with a snap and nodded. He bent low and kissed her gently, and she responded in kind, molding her body to his. She slipped her tongue between his lips, taking the kiss deeper and sending a bolt of need straight through him.

She stepped back and held his gaze before reaching for the hem of her shirt. She tugged it over her head and tossed it aside. Good Christ, there had never been a more perfect view in the history of time than the one he had right now. No bra, in just her skirt and heels. He'd thought it was hot to see her bent over his sofa, but it was nothing compared to the way her beautiful pink nipples pouted at him, begging for his mouth.

“I could kill him for touching you that way,” he rasped, his brain instantly conjuring the image he’d worked so hard to erase from his memory.

“Make me forget about it.” Her elegant throat worked and her eyes went soft as she opened her arms to him. “Make us both forget.”

She didn’t need to ask him twice. He bent and lifted her into his arms, the scent of her shampoo washing over him.

She pointed him in the right direction and he carried her down the dim hallway and through the door. He didn’t stop until he reached her bed, where he laid her gently down and stood back to look at her bathed in moonlight.

Her gaze was soft…sad as she looked back at him, and he knew why as well as she did.

This would be their last night together. At least for the foreseeable future. His mission was left unfinished and he’d already allowed her far too close to the fire. But tonight he would do as she asked.

Make them both forget.

And when tomorrow came? Well, then he would go back to life as he knew it. A life that revolved around vengeance.

Vengeance that suddenly didn’t seem nearly as sweet…

S
adie stared
at the swirls of paint on the ceiling in the early morning light, playing the same game she and Clarissa used to play when they were young, finding shapes and faces in the random patterns. Her foot was asleep but she was loathe to move, certain that the second she did, Jake would wake up.

Once that happened, there was no question he'd be gone.

Last night had been intense. More intimate than ever, and she was pretty sure he was feeling as unnerved by it as she was. To this point, their bond had been tenuous at best. Two people tied together by a common goal. A goal that had come screeching to a halt the night before, because of her.

It was a tough pill to swallow. All his work, research, all that time, wasted…

She shook off the guilt and the beginnings of bone-deep fear that started seeping in at the realization that she was again in financial dire straits, and forced herself to search for something positive.

At least she could go back to her job at Roberto's to pay the rent and some of the smaller, most urgent bills. Alistair had no idea she was Sadie the Waitress, but she could switch her shifts just so she didn’t have to see him anymore just in case. Then, she’d get a second job and figure out how to make ends meet.

She just didn't have the stomach for anything else anymore.

It would be a rough couple months, but her life was pretty much a string of tough months of famine, made bearable by a few feasts. She'd have a bit of a pity party with too much ice cream and a good weeping session but, come Monday, she'd brush herself off and figure out where to go from here.

So what if she’d never get to pick a dream like people did sometimes, and go out to achieve it, or find that one thing she felt passionate about above all else to throw herself into? So long as she and Clarissa were able to stay together, she'd make it work like she always did, because she was a Leighton and that's what they did.

It was Jake she wasn't so sure about.

He shifted beside her and muttered softly in his sleep before rolling onto his back. Even in rest, he seemed distressed. Probably having nightmares. Alistair had taken everything from his family, and now Jake had been forced to take a giant step backward in his efforts to serve up a heaping plate of revenge. If he couldn’t find a way to bring down Hannigan, he’d never have a moment’s peace. Her heart ached for him, and for herself.

Because she had no doubt she was about to lose him over it.

"Hey there," she murmured, forcing a smile as he peered at her through sleepy eyes.

“Hey.”

She reached out a finger to stroke his bicep, tracing the dark angel tattoo high on his shoulder. She’d wondered about it the second time they’d made love, but had been afraid to ask. Now, with nothing else to lose and no promise of another opportunity in sight, she broached the question. “Did you get this for your dad?”

He nodded. “I did. A week after he passed.” His jaw tensed and his gaze locked with hers. “It’s an avenging angel, to remind me…”

Her stomach pitched and she looked away. Something told her he’d never needed the reminder, but she imagined it had been one more way of marrying himself to his cause.

And yet another reason for you to let go of that last little bit of hope, you idiot…

"You want some toast or something? Coffee?"

He shook his head and pushed himself up to sitting. "No…I can't stay." He seemed like he wanted to say more or offer an explanation, but then he snapped his mouth shut.

Her heart gave a thud but she forced a smile. "Okay, sure. No problem."

She could feel the hot rush of tears pooling to her eyes, but was helpless to stop them. So silly. He’d never promised her a thing, and had told her from the start that his life was dedicated to one thing and one thing only. Still, some sad, naive part of her had hoped that, just maybe…

She turned her face away, willing him to get out of the bed and go so she could cry in peace. She was naked but for her underwear and she wasn't about to cross the room in only a sheet.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the concern evident in his voice.

What to say to that? He was a good person. He had enough to deal with after last night, a lot of which was her fault to begin with. She wasn't about to add to his troubles by not knowing when to let go.

“Allergies," she lied, adding a loud sniffle for good measure.

"Sadie, I don't want to go. I
have
to go. You understand that, yeah?”

Any last ember of hope that he might not be breaking up with her went out, leaving her cold and empty.

"Did you ever think that maybe this is a sign?" She knew it was a Hail Mary. A total waste of breath, but she needed to at least say her piece.

"A sign of what?"

"Maybe it's time to call it quits. Let your brother do his job. This has cost you your entire adult life, Jake. When is enough, enough?"

"Now you sound like Mike," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. Avenging angel was right. He looked like one himself, naked, hair black as night, gray eyes blazing.

She wanted to stop. Willed herself to mind her own business, but the words kept coming.

"Is that a bad thing? Have you ever stopped to think that maybe he's right? Maybe you’re going about this whole thing the wrong way. Especially now, when the price of moving forward is so high?"

She didn’t mean just her, but his own sanity, even more time, and his relationship with his brother. Surely all that meant something?

His laugh was low and harsh. "Now a career criminal is going to lecture me on right and wrong. That's rich."

She winced, but pressed on, leaning forward to wrap her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest.

"Your brother already told you he’s close. If you’re still dirty dealing around Alistair Hannigan when the shit hits the fan, you could wind up exactly where your dad did. In prison. Do you think that's what he would want for you?"

He shoved a hand through his hair and glared at her. "He's dead, so I can't bloody well ask him what he wants, can I?" he muttered.

She drew back like he'd slapped her, and it felt like he had, but this was too important to let him derail her. Whether he chose her or not, this path was one that could only lead to pain for him.

"You knew him. You said he was your biggest inspiration. Do you think he would've wanted you to spend your whole life chasing after Hannigan instead of living?"

He blew out a long sigh. "What are you asking me to do, Sadie? To forget it? Give it up and walk away? Move on like nothing happened?" His grim smile sent a chill through her. “I can’t do that. It would haunt me until my dying day."

“Go, then.” She buried her face in her knees and bit her lip hard to hold back the tears. “Go do what you have to do. I hope it brings you peace.”

His gaze was tortured, which only made the knife in her gut twist.

"I don’t know about that anymore. All I know is that I can’t stop now, and I can’t drag you down with me. Not after what happened last night. I won’t see you hurt by this…but I'll come back, Sadie,” he said softly, the hard edge in his voice gone now. “When this is over, I'll come back for you. I swear it."

He touched her arm, but she jerked away like he’d burned her.

"Don't."

He paused for a long beat. “Don’t swear it?"

"Don't come back.”

Her throat ached so much, she could barely speak, but she swallowed hard and lifted her head to face him through tear-filled eyes. “I can’t invest in this. I need to be focused on my family right now. Taking care of Clarissa is my only priority and I can't do that effectively if I get caught up in you, wondering if you're okay or when you’re coming back. It could be a month. Or a year. Or never. It’s not fair to ask me to wait for a tomorrow that might never come."

His face had gone stark white, his jaw clenching as he looked down at her. "It doesn't have to be this way," he started, but she held up a hand to stop him.

The second she left even a hint...a breath of space there, he was going to take it and in short order, he'd have her all turned around, changing her mind. He spent the past seven years as a con artist. That was what con artists did. She knew that better than anyone.

Her best bet was to shove him out the door and toss his clothes behind him. Even now, as she took in his stricken expression, she wanted to take it back. To tell him she'd sit and wait for him while he went off to find another way to get revenge on Alistair Hannigan. But she had her own promises to keep.

She stayed silent as he gathered his things and padded to the door, turning one last time to look at her. “Sadie, I’m so sorry…”

“Me too. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

She waited until the door closed behind him before letting the first tear fall.