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He knows more than we know about what happened between Hunter and my father, maybe even more about what happened to Hunter than he’s let on. My gut knots with the idea that he’s gone because he knew what he thought I knew. Because he knows too much. But who knew that? Who would want himgone? I sigh and I look down at the woman in the photos, wondering if she might know something, too. Clearly she’s spent a lot of time with Echo. “Who is this woman, Jax?”
He crosses the room to kneel next to me. I turn the album around, and he glances at the photos, frowning instantly. “What the—” He takes the book from me and stands up, walking to the desk where he sets it down, flipping through the pages.
“Who is she?” I ask, standing to join him behind the desk.
Jax’s gaze lifts and finds mine. “My mother. It’s like a damn shrine to my mother. And I’m officially creeped the fuck out.”
Chapter ninety-eight
Jax
Ishut the photo album holding the photos of my mother that I can easily assume to be taken by Echo.
“You think he was obsessed with her?” Emma asks. “You said the photos creep you out. Are you thinking an affair or something far more dangerous? What are you thinking right now, Jax?”
A hell of a lot, I think, and none of it is good. Most of it would scare the shit out of Emma, too, which is why, for now, I keep it all to myself. “I don’t know, baby. I need time to process.” I glance at my watch. “And right now, we’re tight on time. We need to get back and shower before the brunch, and I have Grayson Bennett coming in for a meeting.”
She studies me a moment, clearly wanting to push for more, but obviously thinks better. “You already supply the bars in his hotels, right?”
“I do. I’m working with his investment consortium on another project.” Her brother’s future being that project, but that’s a topic we need to discuss after I meet with Grayson. I motion tothe shelf to my right. “Check the books there, will you? Look for the DNA test stuck in a book. I’ll get the other shelf.”
Emma doesn’t move. “He didn’t leave that DNA test for me or the note. He’s not the one. I told you why.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a copy and knows about it. And these bookshelves seem to be the only place he keeps anything important.”
“Right,” she says. “Good point.” She hurries toward the shelf to get to work.
I do the same on my side and quickly start pulling out books, shaking them, thumbing through pages. We get twenty minutes into this process, and we’re out of time. “Anything?” I ask, hands settling on my hips under the jacket that I’m still wearing.
“No, but there are so many books,” she says. “It’s going to take forever. We need more time.”
“I’m going to have Savage’s team take over. Let’s head back.” I glance at my watch again. “In fact, let’s make this our morning jog, out of the need to cut time off the trip back.”
“I’m all in,” she says. “I need to pay for the pastries I’ve been eating.”
She slides a book back into place and crosses to stand in front of me. “Jax—”
I cup her face and lean in to kiss her. “We have much to talk about, baby. Just not now. Okay?”
“Yes. Right. The time. Of course.”
I catch her hand and lead her through the house, shooting Savage a text to meet me at the brunch, as we walk down the steps to the beach. Once we’re there, Emma and I waste no time doing what we’ve started doing to start most mornings: we run. But on this particular morning, it feels like we are running right at the devil. And she might just be wearing a red dress, after all.
Ten minutes later, we’re back at the beach house. In another ten, we’re in the shower together, and while I don’t talk to her about what’s on my mind, the ghosts of my past are right here with us. Time is limited, but I damn sure make enough of it to press her against the shower and press inside her. It’s not soft and tender love making, either. It’s a hard, fast, emotionally-driven fuck and release, and thank you, Lord, she’s right there with me. The woman gets me. She doesn’t ask questions. She doesn’t push me. She just fucks the hell out of me and then grabs the shampoo like it didn’t even happen.
I almost laugh.
Almost.
There’s too much spinning out of control to get me there, though.
It’s time to take control. I keep saying that, and I need to end the talk. Action is in order and that means I’m not going to be gentle outside this shower either.
For brunch and my afternoon meetings, I dress in suit pants and a blue button-down collared shirt without a tie, while Emma wears dress pants and an emerald green blouse that matches her eyes. Funny how I don’t remember noticing the color of any woman’s blouse before Emma. But then, Emma is not any other woman. She’s the one woman who matters. The one who woke me up in ways I didn’t even know I needed to be woken up. And for her, I will try to find a way to fight this war with her brother, without the damage I might otherwise have caused him.
Because I still believe he had something to do with Hunter’s death.
When the doorbell rings, I leave her in the bathroom, finishing up her makeup to find Savage at the door. This time I exitto the porch, welcoming the privacy. I pull the door shut and Savage gives me a quick look, and clearly, reading my mood on the money, says, “Someone didn’t have their Fruity Pebbles this morning.”
