Page 86 of Mile High Heist

“I’m not.”

I released her. A moment later, the drawing continued.

I decided to let it be.

Just when I started to sink fully into what was likely a concussion-fueled nap, she whispered my name.

“Jax.”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated.

“Spit it out, princess.”

Her finger stalled over my heart. “You were never going to give the prototype to Preacher, were you?”

My eyes snapped open.

Sensing the mood shift, she sat up and hugged her knees. Her eyes were bright and wet in the dark.

My default was to lie. Deny it. I opened my mouth, deception locked and loaded on my tongue.

A tear slipped from her eye.

She was quick to catch it. Swipe it aside like it never happened. But it made that stupid muscle in my chest twist again.

“No,” I admitted roughly. “I was never going to give it to him.”

She nodded, unsurprised.

I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her ankle. Even her pulse felt sad.

She took a shaky breath. “That’s why I’m here, Jax.”

“What do you mean?”

“Preacher knows,” she said. Her pulse jumped as she glanced at my face. “Or at least, he suspects that you planned to steal it for yourself. That’s why he sent me. He knew I’d make sure—that I’d—”

“Betray me?”

Her face shuddered. She tugged on her foot, but I refused to let her go. If I couldn’t run, neither could she.

“He knew I’d do whatever it takes to protect Molly,” she said, swallowing. “Even if it meant stealing it from you.”

There it was. The fucking punchline.

I knew it had been too good to be true. She was too good to be true.

I waited for the anger to come. It was usually right there, under the surface, ready to boil over.

Except…

“Are you angry?” she asked me, genuinely confused by my lack of reaction. Instead of blowing up like I usually did, I stayed silent.

My thumb circled her ankle bone absently.

“Jax?”