Page 97 of Playboy’s Purgatory

I was just there.

Knowing I was there and left them is almost too much to deal with. If any of the other brothers are following me, I wouldn’t know. I’m not paying even a little bit of attention to them. Hopefully, they can keep up.

I barely keep my bike upright and get it turned off when I skid to a stop behind Bunz Out. I’m off the back and striding to the door without checking a single thing going on in my surroundings.

My only thought is to get to Lara and make sure she’s okay.

Before I can reach the door, it swings open and Lara is standing there holding a box of kitchen gloves. After closing the distance between us, I grip her shoulders and hold her in place, not that she tries to escape or anything.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?” The questions tumble out of me quickly without giving her a chance to answer any of them.

I don’t look at her face at first; I’m taking in everything I can see on her.

No blood.

No tears in her clothing.

No bruising.

No blood.

“Jettson,” she whispers and my eyes snap to hers. Her voice gets loud as she firmly assures me, “I’m fine. I’m not injured.”

With the box of gloves being held out as an offering to not tamper with potential evidence, I follow her into the kitchen of Bunz Out. I’m more than a little impressed with how Lara seems to be taking this, whatever it is, in stride.

She’s not screaming.

She’s not crying.

But her face is a neutral mask which I hate seeing on her beautiful features.

I much prefer her dancing and singing with Vanesa in the kitchen. That’s when she lights up.

I feel my brothers come up behind me. When I glance over my shoulder I find Ryker, Snake, Sidewinder, and Whiskey standing there with surprise written all over their faces. Lara shakes the box of kitchen gloves in our direction, and we pull some out and put them on, well we try to, without saying a word.

“I haven’t touched anything without wearing gloves, just in case. I understand my fingerprints will be all over the kitchen, but it seemed like the right thing to do,” her words are vague and her tone gives nothing away.

She said she’s fine, that she’s not hurt, but the way I can’t read her has my throat closing up. What the fuck is going on? I woke up in her bed today to find out Lola stole from us and pulled a runner.

“After Playboy left,” hearing her call me by my road name makes me growl under my breath, “I made some cookie dough upstairs and then decided to go ahead and come down to get started with my day. The moment I stepped into the kitchen, I knew something was wrong. I pulled up the security app, but it had been turned off and reset. The cameras were also tampered with.”

I reach for her, but she takes a small step back. My heart starts to pound in my chest, and I fist my hand at my side. What the fuck is going on?

“I searched the entire kitchen and didn’t find anything out of place, missing, or tampered with.” Lara takes a breath and lets it out slowly, as if the next words are what she fears most. “I found the money when I went into my office.”

Her blue eyes lock with mine. “You should check it out. I haven’t touched anything. When I saw it, I called Ryker.”

Ryker nods and steps forward. He claps a hand on my shoulder and squeezes slightly.

It’s the only thing that stops me from asking why Lara called him instead of me. She should have called me, right? Does she still not trust me?

Ryker pushes me toward the office even though I have no desire to step away from my woman. The moment I step into the doorway, my eyes fall on the bundles of cash in the middle of the desk. My eyes widen as I take it in.

Ryker grunts, “Looks like half of what Lola took.”

My eyebrows pull together as I take in the scene. It doesn’t make any fucking sense. How the fuck did this money get here? Why is it here?

I step back into the kitchen and my eyes find Lara. She’s watching me very closely. What is she looking for? What is she expecting?