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She gasps, but doesn’t say anything for long, agonizing seconds.
“It could have been anyone’s. Reid and JD could have brought any gir—”
“They don’t take women to the house, Doll. The only other female who’s been there recently has been Letty.”
“So it could be hers,” she argues.
“Yeah, it could,” I agree. “But are you willing to risk it?”
Her head falls back against the headrest and her eyes close.
It’s hard to keep my attention on the road ahead when all I want to do is comfort her. To pull her into my arms and assure her that everything is going to be okay. But I can’t, and not just because I’m driving.
“So what? We’re running away?”
My chin drops but no words spill free.
“Yes and no.”
Her attention burns the side of my face as she waits for me to explain.
“You made me promise, Doll. Our future over their demise.”
The weight of that promise, of her demand for me to agree, sits heavy on my shoulders, and something tells me that I’m not the only one feeling it.
“Yeah,” she agrees.
Glancing over, I find her chewing on her nails in concern.
Reaching out, I tug her hand free and twist her fingers with mine.
“I know you want them gone, Doll. Trust me, I know. But if we have to walk away and leave Reid to do the heavy lifting, then I’m willing to let that happen.”
Her grip tightens and she swallows nervously.
“I do want them gone,” she agrees. “Everything used to be so clear. Kill them all and embark on our future. But all of this… everything that’s happened in the last few months. Hell, even days. It’s muddled everything.”
My chest constricts at the thought of her falling for JD.
They have a connection, that much was obvious from the first time I saw them together. But how deep does it run? And is she already regretting forcing me to make her that promise about our future?
3
REID
Dropping my head into my hands, I let out a pained sigh.
“You’re going to need to give me more than that,” I complain.
“I’m aware,” Aubrey mutters, the bottle in her hand clanking against the glass tumbler she’s pouring the amber liquid into. “If this job were easy, you wouldn’t have called me.”
“Shit. I know,” I say, slouching on the couch in her fancy-ass hotel room—that I’m paying for, I might add.
Letting my head fall back, I close my eyes and suck in a handful of deep, calming breaths.
It does fuck all to chill me out. Unease continues to trip through my veins while dread knots up my stomach.
Aubrey stays silent as the slosh of scotch fills the air before she puts the bottle back on the side and then swallows it down in one go.
