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Jonas laughs, the sound boisterous and startling compared to the quiet, reserved nature of my husband. “You shouldn’t threaten assassins, love. They take those very seriously.”
Growing more irritated by the second, I put my hands on my hips and cock an eyebrow at the two men. “Well, we’ve established that I belong here. Can I go in now?”
“Unfortunately no, although it certainly has nothing to do with the way you’re dressed.” Unlike his employee, Jonas doesn’t even look at my outfit, instead focusing on a spot beyond my head, like he’s looking for someone. “You’ve got bad luck written all over you.”
“I do not!”
He nods, ignoring me, and grabs my elbow, starting down the street away from the bar. “You do. It’s this... purity within your presence; bad shit just flocks to you, doesn’t it, love?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“You’re right, Anderson probably wouldn’t like that very much either.” His long legs eat up the sidewalk, and even though I’m not short by most standards, I’m having to practically sprint just to keep up. “He’s rather fond of you, hm? It’s like you’ve finally managed to dislodge the stick up his arse.”
My nose wrinkles up, my body rejecting the sentiment. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Don’t suppose you’d have to. The lad’s been proper obsessed with you for ages.” He glances down at me as we round the corner, a Dunkin’ Donuts coming into view at the end of the street. “Well, not ages. It’s a rather recent development, but boy oh boy, did it hit him hard.”
Jonas’s words make my face heat up, and when we stop just outside the doors of the donut shop, he releases my arm, turning to face me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, shrugging, not wanting to let him know how his claim draws my throat closed. I cross my arms over my chest, in case my heart beats so hard he can see it.
“Technically speaking, he could’ve married anyone,” he says. “But he chose you.”
“He was blackmailed into it. We both were.”
A look of dark amusement passes over Jonas’s face, and he smiles, revealing two rows of bright, unnaturally white teeth. He reminds me of his namesake, staring down at me like a wolf who’s just caught his dinner and never learned not to play with his meals beforehand.
“Right. I forgot about that.” Clearing his throat, he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, pressing his lips together. “Still, Elena. Think about it. Is a man like that ever blackmailed easily?”
My nerves jumble, blending wildly together and spreading like poison through my gut. “I don’t know...”
In truth, it’s the same thought I had when he first approached me, demanding my hand. After he’d already taken out Mateo, eliminating my choice in that matter.
Not that I miss Mateo.
But it did feel mildly suspicious.
Narrowing my eyes at Kal’s British friend, I take a step back, and he laughs again, the sound so rich and infectious, it sends a twinge of homesickness through me.
I haven’t heard anyone laugh in weeks.
“I’m not saying he wasn’t forced into doing it,” Jonas says finally, lifting his shoulders. “I’m just saying... maybe it’s not the full picture. Maybe you should see if anyone has the other side of the photograph.”
And when he turns, leaving me in front of Dunkin’ to head back to the bar, I stand there for several minutes, wondering what to do with the information he’s just given me.
I should go ask Kal what he’s talking about, or complete my mission to find Violet.
Instead, I head inside, order a long john, and settle in at one of the outdoor metal patio tables, pushing all my problems aside until I’ve finished eating.
