Page 62 of Direct Action

For this to work the way it needed to, Chloe had to trust me, and acting like an asshole wasn’t going to do me any favors.

The problem was, I was blinded by a poisonous cocktail of worry and fear. Crazy with it. I knew what could go wrong. I knew what was at stake. And I knew I’d lose my ever-loving mind if something happened to Chloe.

“For your information,” I ground out, fighting the urge to call my closest friend one of Chloe’s ridiculous names. And the only reason I was able to push the need aside was because I’d never live down calling Gavin the Big Kahuna of Nosyland. But, Christ, he was nosy. “I just used honey.”

And serious as fuck, were we really having this conversation?

“You know none of us have missed it,” Gavin stepped closer to say. “I get why you never went there. She works for us. It was a smart play, keeping your distance.”

That wasn’t why I’d kept my distance. I knew if I gave in, I’d never be able to let her go.

Heartbreak was one thing, losing a woman who I knew was made for me was something I wouldn’t survive. And it had taken me less than week of her working at the Plank for me to understand in a very real way I wanted her to be mine.

I didn’t tell that to Gavin; I let him finish.

“So it’s safe to say, if we didn’t miss what was going on with you, we sure as shit didn’t miss her struggling to keep her distance from you. Though you missed it.”

He was wrong. I hadn’t missed it. I was just too chickenshit to go for it. I didn’t tell him that either.

“She’s in love with you and has been for a long time.”

I reared back and shook my head. “No, she’s—”

“She is. And if you’d stop being an ass for five minutes, you’d see it.”

“This isn’t helping,” I told him. “I’m already fucking this up because I can’t see straight. The thought of her putting herself in danger is driving me crazy. On the way here, Chloe accused me of having multiple personalities. I’m seeing now she’s right. The problem is I don’t know which one to latch on to. Because one minute logic takes over and I know we’d have her covered. Then the next, I’m crazy again thinking of all the ways this shit can turn bad. Which then leads me down a dark path knowing I’d be serving multiple life sentences when I murder half a dozen people if something happens to her.”

With eagle-eyed observation skills, Gavin studied me. The longer this went on, the more stifling the sensation became. The problem with being friends with someone who you’d spilled blood with, who’d fought beside you, who’d suffered through unimageable horrors at your side, was that the depth of camaraderie was all consuming—a bond so intricately woven into the psyche there was no room for bullshit.

“Then you know, there’s no one better to have her back than the man who’d murder half a dozen people to ensure her safety. Which is why it’s a good thing Mercer called Pete before you got here and Pete transferred the application fee while he was still on the phone. The background check should take forty-eight hours. Once the final membership fee is transferred, your ass will be sitting at the bar.”

“You’re shitting me,” I growled.

“Nope.”

“You didn’t think maybe that was important—”

“Not more important than me telling you to get your head out of your ass before you drive a wedge between you and the woman you love that’ll have you on your knees begging for forgiveness. And, yeah, Ryan, none of us missed that shit either. Part of me wonders if that’s why he was okay with Chloe being involved. Knowing you’d have her covered but also knowing it’d light a fire under your ass to make your move.”

I glanced at Pete, who was looking at something on Fallon’s laptop. If I hadn’t been so caught up in all things Chloe and had been thinking straight, I would’ve called that shit two seconds after Pete made the suggestion.

“Anything else?”

“Beck has an in with Sterling.”

My gaze snapped back to Gavin.

“What kind of in?”

“The kind that means Beck will be having dinner with Sterling tonight.”

Christ.

How much had I missed last night?

And Beckett?

On a good day, Beck wasn’t sociable. On a bad day, he could be downright frightening.