"Thirty seconds. That's all you have to stop the bullshit, or your son is dead."
~~~~
Six years ago, Chelsea Doherty lost everything when her husband disappeared without a trace and left her to clean up his past. Now living in Ireland, she has piec...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Warning: This chapter includes a 🌶️🌶️ scene which will be marked within the text. Feel free to skip.
~~~~
Houston, Texas
June 2024
~~~~
"What the hell was that about?" Anton's glare slices into me with anger. "You just let them drive off? It's the middle of the night and we are fucking stranded here. I'm exhausted and want to go to the hotel."
I raise my hand to quiet him. "Just give me a minute, okay?"
I drop on one of the benches in front of the deserted restaurant. Burying my face into my hands, I massage my forehead.
How could I've let it come so far?
Anton sits down across from me and pulls my head into his lap. His strokes through my curls sooth the turmoil ripping through my body. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"She has been fucking playing me." A few tears are caught by Anton's jeans.
"You sure?"
"I tried to ignore it, but some of her reactions were totally off. Like tonight at dinner. I told her that her son wasn't killed by a Disciple, but from the way she looked at me, it was obvious she knew the truth. There were other times where I was almost certain that she was lying, but I always made excuses. And then she fed me this bullshit that she didn't have to give Jackson Pierce anything for letting her go." I huff. "I mean, how fucking likely is that?"
"Yeah, there's no way that happened." He leans over and cradles me close. "Don't sweat it. We all get fooled sometimes."
I snort. "When did you ever get played?"
"Maybe I'm the exception."
"What do you think she gave Jackson?"
"There are only two things. She either snitched on Murphy, or she told him the name of the hotel we are staying at. Could even be both."
"You don't think it might've been sex?"
"Nah. I heard that Jackson only visits brothels when he has a job in some backwater country and be done with it. That bitch Maren Birch burned him too good for him to mess with another woman in his own bed. No, I'm sure Chelsea either leaked that Murphy betrayed him or she gave up your location. Nothing other than that has value to Jackson."
The idea of Jackson Pierce knowing how to find me is terrifying. "We should get another room and only go back to the old hotel for our stuff." And take enough manpower, just to be on the safe side, in case of a shootout. I huddle closer into Anton's embrace, indulging in the warmth emitting from his skin. The familiar scent of his spicy aftershave gives me an odd sense of comfort. Even the pain in my head is silent.
