Page 215 of A Vicious Love

“Reeves?”

“Kitchen, Miss Bellemere?”

“Was Jamison in an accident while I was gone?”

My brow tightened.

Reeves paused. “No, Miss Bellemere.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I left Harlan days ago. Something could have happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“A car accident?”

“No.”

“Head trauma?”

“No.”

I narrowed my eyes at the storm. Head trauma. Wonderful. I was attempting to become less of a bastard.

“He is acting strange,” she whispered.

“That depends on your definition of strange.”

“He is acting as though I exist.”

The cigarette burned between my fingers.

Reeves stayed quiet. The man understood when language became a blade with no safe handle.

“He has always been aware of you.” He said, finally.

My hand tightened around the cigarette until ash bent toward the tray.

“I think you should call his brothers,” she said.

“That may be unnecessary.”

“They would know what to do.”

“His brothers are well aware Jamison is fine.”

“No, tell them properly. Tell them Jamison Crow is willingly at a Bellemere retreat. Tell them he has spoken to me several times without being forced. Tell them he apologized. More than once.”

Reeves took a breath through his nose. “Perhaps the apology detail should remain confidential.”

“See? You’re worried too.”

“I am often worried in this employment.”

“I tried my tech, but the estate dampeners are stopping me from telling his family that something has happened to him.”