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He was typing on his phone. “On it.”
“Relocate her stuff to storage.”
“What about the bowling alley?”
“Notify her cousin. Tell him we’ll double his pay if he keeps his mouth shut.”
“Got it.” He continued typing, but his gaze met mine over his phone. “You sure about this?”
No. “This has to be done.”
“And Trace and Jess?”
Jess was already not happy with me, but she was holding back. Grudgingly. Still. I didn’t want to push my luck. If she found out about Molly’s apartment, she’d come barging in again. The “talk” between us had not gone well.
“Let’s keep this quiet for now.”
“You think this is because of Molly’s dad? You think he found something out already?”
“I think he kicked a hornet’s nest, yeah.”
It was the only thing that made sense.
“Well, looks like if he doesn’t get the information himself, you could always use her as bait . . .” He stopped when I gave him a sharp look. “Oh.”
Oh. As if I wasn’t already considering it.
We were at war. There were no innocents in war.
My gut tightened on that because I was finding myself starting to second-guess my decisions. I was getting irritated by the speed and the frequency with which I was questioning myself when it came to Molly Easter.
I turned to where I could see just the back of her head, as she was tucked into a ball in the back seat.
Sleeping. Resting. She looked like an angel again.
She would be perfect for bait . . .
I’d have to control it, contain it.
I would.
“Wait until we arrive, then let the information leak that I have her,” I clipped out. “Let it spread that I have her in one of our warehouses by the water. Set up a security system. Let’s see who comes looking for her.”
Elijah’s face closed off as he nodded. “Will do, boss.”
I went and got into the back seat next to Molly. The guys had wrapped her up in a blanket, and a pillow was under her face, but as we began moving forward, she moved around in her sleep. Finding my shoulder, she nestled in.
I let her stay.
That itch for her only kept intensifying.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MOLLY
Oh. No, no, no. I woke up, but unlike last time, everything came flooding back.
My dad.
Me drinking. Lots of drinking.
Katya.
Ashton.
Jess.
Jess left.
Ashton left and bam! Exploding doors. Lockpicking strangers and pop, pop, pop. Ashton killing a man in my apartment.
I was in a bed but flung back the covers. I wanted answers, and I wouldn’t stop until I got them. I headed downstairs, following the sounds of chopping and cutting, until the room completely opened up. A guy was in the kitchen and waved a knife at me. “Hey.” This man was beyond pretty. Blond hair. Green eyes. High arching cheekbones. He was wearing a merino polo shirt, and I would not be surprised if he had on some Italian loafers.
“You work for Ashton?”
His smile faded, and he nodded. “I do. My name is Avery.”
A male Avery? I liked it. “I’m Molly.”
“I know.” He motioned around the kitchen with his knife. “Want something to eat or drink?”
I shook my head, biting my lip because damn. He was cutting up vegetables. I loved vegetables, and my stomach growled, reminding me of that.
“You sure?” His grin was knowing.
“Where’s Ashton?”
He lost his grin again. “Can’t tell you that.” Ignoring my insta-scowl, he held up a bowl from beside him and showed me what was inside. Rainbow-colored frosted cupcakes.
My stomach was growling again. “Then call him.”
He lowered the cupcakes, studying me a little. “Okay.”
Avery was reaching for a button when we could hear footsteps coming from down a hallway. Ashton appeared, putting his phone away. He perused me before walking into the kitchen, passing behind Avery. “You look well.”
Avery paused in his cutting, watching for my reaction.
I shifted on my feet. “I want answers, Ashton. What happened last night?”
He motioned for the coffee machine. “I can make you an espresso. Do you want one?”
My mouth was instantly watering, and dammit, but I nodded. I gave in. Why was I feeling this was a tit-for-tat kind of situation? That’s not at all how I lived. You were all in or all out. You either gave or you didn’t. This keeping track of what I won versus what he gave was exhausting and making my headache worse.
Also, I had a headache. I didn’t even know until now.
I was blaming the rainbow-frosted cupcakes for distracting me.
“You killed a guy at my place. And where am I? Just . . .” God. My head was now killing me. “I’m developing a sixth sense with you. I feel like you’re planning something. What are you planning, and most importantly, how does it involve me?”
He stared at me a bit before slowly and calmly, which was irritating the fuck out of me, programming an espresso in his fancy machine that looked like I needed a PhD in alien language to figure out how to work it myself.
