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“Absolutely not,” I say, shoving my hand through my hair. I know exactly what I need, just not how to get it.

“You’re going to have to give us something to work with here, Eddie. I get you like to keep things separate, keep your personal life away from this side of your professional, but we’re here for you. For your family.”

“I can’t. I can’t bring her into this,” I insist. “Amie wanted a way in and thought she found it through Evie. I’ve done everything possible to keep her away from this life. The nanny, the separation, keeping my daughter physically away from everything and everyone who has anything to do with le Milieu…”

At the subtle cough, I glance up, remembering whose company I’m in. Teague’s hiding a smile behind his fist—probably the source of that cough. Winnie’s eyes are wide and God only knows what that indicates. I could be the next body Jess has to clean up with the disrespect I just threw down.

Garrick returns with a tray interrupting my circuit around the room. He sets the cut crystal tumbler in front of me, clear ice ball rattling inside, along with a full decanter.

I pour a healthy measure, ignoring Teague’s disappointment in an innocent ice ball, and drink. I don’t drain the glass, but just barely. If I’ve fucked up badly enough that this is my last drink, I’m going to fucking enjoy it.

I hold the decanter aloft, poised to refill my glass when Christophe says, “I understand. Completely. Maybe more than you know, but do I need to repeat that we’re family? That we are all in this and your daughter is a precious to me as my own child? That the people you value are afforded the same protection, the same vigilance, as my own? But I can’t help you, Eddie, if you don’t fucking tell me what you’re up against.”

My nod is tight and only comes after a deep, bracing breath.

“Good. Put the whiskey down and take a minute to gather your thoughts—all of them. I’m not fucking around with only half information when my whole organization is backing you. We’ve got a lot of shit on our plates” He turns to Teague and continues, “Someone on Hibou, someone on Amie. I want them to dig in and do it hard, trail them both, dig into financials, friends, and fuck buddies. I want it all.”

I sip my whiskey and listen.

“And find my nanny.” I drain the glass and set it on the edge of Christophe’s desk. “Amie took Evie from my office yesterday—against my wishes—and my nanny just emailed thanking me for the opportunity and the letter of recommendation.” I glance around the room, meeting each of their gazes before settling on Christophe. If I’m doing this, opening up and accepting help, I’m going all in. “I didn’t let Chantal go, and I haven’t heard from Amie—it’s only been a day, but for Amie without help, that’s a lifetime. I want my daughter back. Exclusively.”

“Do it.”

“Sir, if I may?” Garrick steps forward. “I may have some insight into the previous disappearances of Miss Yore’s mother.”

And somehow everything I’ve done was all for nothing.

Chapter 23

Fear & Discontent

JESS

Waiting sucks. It gives me way too much time to overthink and nothing good has ever come from that.

My shoulders are tense, stuck up by my ears, and it doesn’t matter how I breathe, count fictional sheep, or exhaust the muscles, I cannot get them to relax.

There is not a single task that can distract me from this nothingness. I don’t get it. My days were filled before Evie and Eddie bounced into my life. They were plenty busy… Busy enough, right?

So how can I be so utterly unmoored now?

My van is clean and ready to go. My house is tidy. As clean as it’s going to get for now, because I can’t bear to erase either of them from my space. I no longer have a guest room—it’s Evie’s room, and I’ve put everything in order. Washed her clothes and put them away. Organized her toys. Made up her little portable crib with her favorite pillow just waiting for her to return.

If she returns.

Sadness is a bitter drain, an anchor weighing me down.

I could do my landscaping rounds, but the sun is high in the sky, bright, cheery. Expectant. It might as well be a spotlight highlighting all the little imperfections in the world, and I can’t tolerate the thought of confronting my own.

I’m well aware that I’m the weird girl. The quirky one who cleans up biohazards for an organized crime family. Who loves her garden—or did, before it was infiltrated and defiled. Who dreams in stories, loves big words and a good alliteration. Who dances in the rain and is happiest when the sky is soft and gray.

I didn’t think I was so odd I needed to be hidden.

The men in that office are as gossipy as biddies at a church social. They all know each other’s business, yet I was a surprise to most of them. Even after the botched wedding when Eddie held me on the couch and took me home. Cared for me. No one but Teague knew that we were more.

I guess we’re not.

I wander from room to room, closing the blinds, shutting out the light and the outside world. In my bathroom, I nudge the tap in the shower, and it sounds so close to falling rain. I slide down the wall until my butt hits the floor and close my eyes, just listening.