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“Ah.” He paused — at least John was aware that he couldn’t just say whatever he wanted. Connor had picked the best to deal with me, and I liked to think it was because I was an asset they weren’t willing to lose. It meant I could be careful, even though the likelihood of there being some kind of listening device on the premises to record conversation was slim to none. Then again, I’d seen Jayce throw three hundred thousand dollars around like it was petty change.
I wasn’t going to take a chance.
“Yeah. I’ll probably be here for a while. I don’t want you to worry, though.”
John paused again, and then answered carefully. “Is he someone you could see yourself with?”
I read the message loud and clear — did I intend to use my body to get information? If I’d been in any other line of business, if I’d been someone who felt things more, I might have been offended that he was offering me up on a platter without bothering to ask if I was safe, if Jayce was even someone I was attracted to.
“Yeah, I think I could. But… I haven’t met his family yet.”
Shit, why did I sound so damn honest?
“Well, you should go for it, then. Just remember,” he didn’t pause this time. “We have that meeting for work in two weeks.”
I groaned. It wasn’t enough time, yet was too much all at once. I didn’t know how long he planned to keep me. I didn’t know if he’d get bored of me.
It feels like you’re supposed to be here.
He’d taken a beating because he saved me.
Would he get bored? Did he want to keep me for himself? He’d paid for me in money, in blood. And I…
“I’ll be able to make it.” My answer was professional. I couldn’t let them know I was remotely curious about Jayce, further than what kind of information I could get out of him. It wasn’t safe for me.
It wasn’t safe for him.
Not that he should have mattered to me — I wasn’t naive. If he was set to take over the Holden empire, there was every chance they’d order me to take Jayce out with the same clip they did his father.
I didn’t want to think too hard on it.
“Good. Make sure to check in soon, you know Dad worries about you.”
I didn’t need to be told Connor was anxious for me to kill Marcus Holden. I was pretty sure I’d conveyed the information necessary to keep them off my back for two weeks.
“I’ll call when I can. I might be busy getting to know him, though. Don’t worry,” I smiled. “I think I could be happy here.”
Chapter 6
Jayce
Iwasn’t sure if Clay was going to be in his room when I woke up the next morning. I’d heard him get up from his bed in the middle of the night, heard the back door slide open.
It took every bit of willpower I had not to get up and follow him, to at least listen to what he was doing. I wanted to see if he sneaked off in the middle of the night and made his way back to whatever his life was before he met me. I didn't even try to convince myself that I wouldn't hunt him down if he ran, but that didn't quell my curiosity about his motives.
I was shocked when I found him in the kitchen the next morning, rummaging through the cabinets with his brows pulled together. He heard me approaching, and he looked at me with a frown. “You weren’t lying when you said you had nothing to eat.”
He still had a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread spread out on the counter in front of him. My hand came up, raking through my hair. “I can go get you something.”
“No.” He poked his head into the fridge and pulled out cheese. “It’s fine. Just…” Clay glanced over at me, and his eyes swept down my body to look at my ribs. I knew the bruise was a deep purple now — it probably looked a lot worse than it was, which was saying something, since it felt like shit. “Sit down. It hurts just looking at you.”
I moved automatically to the couch and sprawled across it. I couldn’t stop watching him, though — I’d never had someone in my kitchen, and I’d certainly never let someone cook me breakfast in it. Clay moved with a singular purpose, throwing the carton and the empty bread bag away behind him.
When he slid plates onto the table a few minutes later, I noticed that I had more food on mine than he had on his. I glanced at the disproportionate piles of eggs, but offered a softly murmured thank you that made his hazel eyes widen for just a second before he started eating.
“If you tell me what you like, I can put in a grocery order today,” I spoke around a mouthful of toast, and when I started to get up for a drink, Clay rolled his eyes and shoved my shoulder to get me back in the chair.
I used the opportunity while his back was turned to flip a few of my eggs onto his plate. Just because I was low on food didn’t mean he had to starve himself on my behalf. His brows knit together when he sat back down, but he slid a glass of orange juice to me with only the slightest frown.
