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“Everything else is in place, though, yeah?” he asks.
“I hope so.” Fuck me, do I hope so.
If this goes wrong…
I’ve already dug deeper than I should, got myself in the middle of Victor and his contacts. If I start looking into the human trafficking ring Alana talked about and I get caught…
Well, safe to say that none of us will be around to bring anyone down.
“I trust you, man. And when this is all over, you’re gonna be the best boss this place has ever seen.”
“Let’s not get carried away. You want a job?” I ask, already knowing his answer.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope. This lettuce needs washing and you’re just the man for the job.”
Picking it up, I throw it across the room like a football. “Go long,” I shout, giving him little choice but to jump from the stool and race after it.
“I hate you,” he bellows as I stalk out of the room to go and find my hidden knives.
I like to think hiding them is overkill. But that look in his eye after Alana kicked him out of my room was fucking terrifying.
Hiding them might have made it worse, might have made him think that I don’t trust him. But I am too fucking scared to test the theory. Plus, he hasn’t mentioned it, so I’ve no idea if he’s even noticed. It’s not like he’d ever attempt to make anything more exciting than a slice of toast in my kitchen.
But the second I walk back into the room with the box in my hand, I know he’s aware.
He glances at it briefly from his spot at the sink being my sous-chef, but he doesn’t comment.
Maybe I did do the right thing.
We work in silence, him washing the lettuce like his life depends on it while I chop everything I need.
JD and I are more than comfortable without saying anything, but there’s an edge of tension I don’t like between us.
We don’t have secrets, or at least, I don’t think we do. He’s the only one other than my uncle who is fully invested in my plan to take down Victor.
He might have made some less than stellar life choices in the past, but I trust him with everything I am. The future, should we succeed in my plan, will include him being my right-hand man, always.
But right now, there’s a distance between us that makes my shoulders knot and my eyes shoot over to his equally as tense back more often than not.
And I know why. I know exactly why.
She’s currently standing naked in my shower.
“You think Mav’s gonna pull the stick from his ass now and fuck his wife?” he blurts when he finally finishes washing the last of the lettuce and turns to watch me.
“Fuck knows. Don’t care,” I mutter.
“Of course you don’t,” he teases.
“We both know you only do because if she starts bouncing on his, she’ll want yours less.”
“Sure, it could go that way. I was thinking that either he’d have forgotten how to use it and she’d prefer mine, or she might want both.”
“Jesus, is this really what you sit up at night thinking about?”
“Little bit of that, little bit of world domination. Don’t even try convincing me that you’re any different. I saw that tent you were rocking in your pants when you left your bedroom earlier.”
