Page 93 of Heist in Paradise

“I will protect you,” Preacher said. “If you work for me.”

Madoc was nodding away, like that was exactly what he’d expected.

“There it is,” Jax mocked sharply. “The fucking punchline. What do you want from us?”

“I am not delusional, Jackson,” Preacher said. His voice deepened, as if delivering a sermon to a large, eager crowd. “I know what you are—what you have all done. You are sinners on a path to damnation. I am offering you a different path, one that serves a greater good, even if it require certain…extreme measures.”

Zola scoffed. “You want vigilantes?”

“I want prophets,” Preacher corrected her softly. “You all stand at a crossroads. One path leads to certain death. Another to rebirth. Choose wisely.”

“Or else what?” Jax asked. His smile was not kind. “You’ll kill us here?”

Preacher waited a beat, then said: “Yes.”

My body lurched into action before my brain caught up. “No, wait!”

Suddenly, I found myself standing between the guns, like a total moron. Jax reached out to snatch me back, his face pale, lip lifted furiously.

“Get the fuck back over here,” he growled.

I didn’t move.

I did flinch when Preacher’s hand landed softly on my shoulder. It was probably intended for comfort—instead, it felt awfully like a claim.

Look at what you did now, Molly said in my head. My eyes flashed over to the real thing. She hadn’t moved from the dock, not even an inch. But she was a stark reminder of everything Preacher had done for me. He was the only one who’d believed in me—who’d given me everything I needed to find the island and Molly.

But there was also Jax.

Violent, infuriating, impossible Jax.

Jax, who looked about two seconds away from a full-on coronary, his gaze pinned to where Preacher was touching me. “She’s not part of the deal,” Jax said, each word forced out through clenched teeth. “You can’t have her.”

Preacher, either oblivious or secretly having a death wish, squeezed my shoulder deliberately and said: “Olivia is already one of mine.”

Jax’s gun arm started to shake. Beside him, Madoc smiled dangerously, a slow, terrifying slip into unhinged bloodlust.

A shiver wracked down my spine.

“What will it be, Jackson?” Preacher said.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Jax lifted his gun. The men on either side of Preacher reacted instantly. My eyes slammed shut, waiting for a ringing gunshot. Preacher’s hand tightened on my shoulder. He didn’t try to move me out of the firing line. A tiny, hurt voice whispered: you are his shield.

When I opened my eyes, Jax was watching me over his gun. “He’s got you fooled, princess,” he said quietly. I hung on every word. “He’s a mob boss, just like our boss. He takes advantage of desperate people.”

“No, Jax, it’s not like that.”

Right?

Jax smiled. It looked final.

Peacher shifted behind me. “Time to choose, Jackson. Join us, and I will protect you. Give you a chance to redeem yourselves. Or I will kill you here and remove the corruption from the world.”

Jax’s eyes didn’t change. His smile didn’t waver. His arm shook, then steadied. “Move, Olivia.”

I shook my head tearfully. “Jax, please.” The gun was too heavy in my hand. I wanted to drop it. Instead, I clutched it tighter.