CHAPTER 22
KAI
Somehow I managed to spill half a pound of coffee all over Jasmine’s kitchen floor while trying to scoop the grounds into the French Press carafe. “Dammit!” I said louder than I intended. My attempt to surprise Jasmine with coffee in bed wasn’t going so well.
She appeared in the open doorway of her bedroom, looking radiant in my T-shirt and a serious case of bed head. Rubbing her eyes, she grumbled. “Early charter?”
“Yeah.” I was asleep when she finished her bartending shift last night. But we’d barely spoken in days. It wasn’t exactly cold shoulder treatment. She was just distant—turning up Taylor Swift while she painted, answering me in clipped phrases that weren’t mean, just guarded. I got the message loud and clear. If I wasn’t going to be honest with her, she wasn’t going to engage.
“Sorry for waking you up like that,“ I said, sweeping the grounds into a pile on the floor. “And for wasting coffee. I’ll get more.”
“That’s okay. I wanted to get up early to paint before work anyway.” She held the dustpan for me, her tone neutral. “Get coarse ground, it’s better for the French Press.”
She squeezed past me and poured the hot water from the kettle into the carafe.
“I was going to do that. And bring it to you in bed. Sorry I fucked that up.”
“It’s fine.”
“Are we?” I asked, trying to meet her eyes that roamed to everywhere but mine. “Arewefine?”
Jasmine shrugged, lowering her gaze. “Sure. We’re just peachy.”
The sarcasm stung more than if she’d yelled. “I’m really sorry. I was trying to take care of things without worrying you.”
“It’s a little late for that. I’m never not worried, Kai. And it only worries me more when you keep me in the dark.”
I reached for her hand, tentative. She didn’t pull away. “I know. I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath, trying to decide where to start. “The bald guy that was in my house that night we met—he showed up in Trading Post a a couple weeks ago.”
Her head snapped up. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were already having nightmares every night. He was trying to shake me down, but I told him I had a few leads and needed more time.”
“Okay…?”
“Then I started seeing this car—a black Chrysler 300—following me.”
Jasmine’s brows shot up. “Jesus, Kai.”
“I know, but they never came back to find me. And then they sort of disappeared. I haven’t seen any sign of them in almost a week.”
“Or they just changed cars?”
“Yeah, I wondered that too,” I admitted, squeezing her hand. “I was kinda hoping they either found their coke, or ended up in jail.”
“Gee, if only we knew a cop to ask if that’s the case,” she said, sarcasm ablaze.
“That’s not smart right now,” I said, brushing her arm gently.
She pulled away, crossing her arms in front of her. “Right. Then what is, genius?”
“Ouch. I guess I deserve that.” I winced, taking another deep breath. “I’ve been an idiot. I’m sorry.” I coaxed her hands free and wrapped them both in mine. “But I’m doing my best. And I’m telling you now…”
Finally her features softened, and a glimmer of the Jasmine I loved, who loved me, shined through. “Thank you.” The worry returned to her eyes and it twisted in my gut like a blade. “I figured they were watching us,” she said, shutting her eyes like she didn’t want to admit it. “Or at least watching you. But since you’ve been here the whole time, by default, me too.” She visibly shuddered and I hated myself for it.
“That was the first stupid thing I did. After calling in the goddamn bale, of course.” My head shook, trying to clear the memory. “I thought it was the right thing to do. But you’d have been better off if you never met me.”
Her fingers laced through mine, and her voice lowered. “Hey, you gave me an out. Twice. I chose to stick around.” She stared deep into my eyes for the first time in days. “I couldn’t let you go through this alone.”
