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“Don’t go in there. We need whatever big-fish deal they’re working on. They’re willing to take a percentage of cash for this, and I want to know what we’re dealing with before I take it to the director. I wish I could have someone on that house and Samson twenty-four seven without alerting anyone.”
“But Tait would know without a doubt because he’s corps.”
“Exactly,” I grunt.
“What do you want to do?” Wells asks.
“Why are you asking me?”
He lets out a chuckle. “Because, little brother, you are the lead on this shit.”
Fuck.
I am.
“I’ll set up surveillance on that house. Drop me a pin.”
“Knew you’d think of something on the fly.”
He ends the call, and I realize I never did talk to him about Harlow and Allison. Although I’m not sure what kind of advice he would even give me at this point. I’ve fucked up, Allison has fucked up, and now Harlow has fucked up.
I’m not sure there is any happy ending to this shit at this point.
Fucking hell.
Instead of going to Allison’s, I head home. I can’t do this right now. Maybe not ever. I decide I need to seriously focus on the task at hand. Nothing else matters. The family is the only thing I can think about right now.
ALLISON
A week.
Then another week.
Harlow has texted me a few times and even came by the store to help me unbox and hang things up. I like that. It seems like she’s making an effort to assure me she will be here after her wedding.
“When is the big day?” I ask.
I know it’s soon, but I don’t have an actual date. She stands from the box she’s taking crotchless panties out of and gives me a sad smile. “Tomorrow,” she whispers.
My eyes widen, and my lips part at that word. “Why are you here?” I demand. “Shouldn’t you be doing rehearsal dinners and things?” I ask.
“Probably,” she says with a shrug. “But that’s not what this is about.”
I decide not to ask any more questions. I already know—from the situation that Parker and Claire were in—that not every marriage is cut and dry, boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy marries girl.
We continue working for a couple more hours, and when everything that can be done is done, I ask her if she wants to have dinner together. “Dinner and drinks on me,” I offer, “as a wedding gift.”
There is a moment where she just stares at me, then she looks over her shoulder as if she’s looking for someone. I don’t say anything. I’m quiet as I wait for her response. When she still doesn’t speak, I start to tell her to forget about it, but she swings her gaze back around to meet mine, and her lips curve up into a grin.
“I would love to.”
Nodding, I walk around the counter and grab my purse. As I move toward her, I turn off all of the lights and set the alarm as we move out of the store. Once I’ve locked the door, I start to tell her that she can follow me if she wants, or that she can come with me in my car, when an SUV pulls up to the curb with a squeal.
We both stop and turn toward the black car. At first, I think it’s either Hendrick, one of his brothers, or maybe even his father. They all have different vehicles that I’ve seen them drive from time to time, but that isn’t who it is.
In fact, it’s four men I have never seen before in my life. Maybe they’re just pulling up to the sidewalk to park to go to a restaurant or something. I don’t know people’s lives. Maybe they like to roll deep into the downtown area.
They open their doors simultaneously, then rush toward us, and that’s when I know they aren’t just some guys pulling up to the sidewalk. I open my mouth to scream, but it’s too late.
