Page 23 of Lesson In Forgiveness

Grit clenched his jaw. “Taking her out would get someone a whole lot of adulation from their peers. Fifty thousand is pittance to what they could demand after eliminating a Fairfax.”

“They wouldn’t have time to enjoy it. Darius treats Tabitha like glass; if someone breaks her, he’ll have no issue doing the same to them.”

The thought of Tabitha’s crazy light being extinguished kindled a furious fire in the pit of his belly. It was none of his damn business—she was on her own path, one that came with risks of the deadly kind—but God, he fucking hated it.

“If she turns up, sit on her,” Jasper ordered. “Ashford is tracing whoever placed the hit. Anarchy dabbles on the dark web, but he lives in there. Whether she likes it or not, Tabitha is getting locked down until we get to the root of this.”

“It can’t be the first hit put on her. She can handle herself.”

“She can, one-on-one. Hell, six-on-one. But a dozen, twenty? Even she has limits, Grit. She can’t fight bullets or spot a sniper from a mile away—Thane could make the shot,” Jasper pointed out before Grit dismissed the notion. “He has made that shot; both Atticus and I would be dead now if he hadn’t.”

“Is there a waiting list for this contract?”

“Knowing Tabitha’s rep, probably. When it’s a non-exclusive hit, it’s first-come, first-served.”

“They declared open season on her.”

“Pretty much.”

“Fuck. Does she know?”

“Apparently Ashford got a bug up his ass about it, called her, and reamed her out. She hung up on him and switched off her phone. Now we can’t reach her at all.”

Was she on a job? Had she headed back to Ireland to clean up this mess? Grit doubted she’d gone into hiding, it simply wasn’t her style. Chances were she was on the move, but where the hell was she going?

“She shows up here, I’ll pin her down. Am I shipping her back to Phoenix?”

Jasper sighed. “Atticus has a holding cell ready for her. All that crazy needs secure containment, especially if we’re holding her against her will. Lock her down, and we’ll send a team to pick her up.”

“All right, I’ll keep you updated.”

“Grit… Atticus told me about the incident last week. Finding Tabitha in your bed.” Jasper cleared his throat. “I’m not going to go all big brother on you; hurting her isn’t what concerns me. I’m more worried about her harming you. You know how we were raised. Maybe you’ve guessed some of what was done to her, from a young fucking age. She’s damaged in ways I can’t explain.”

Grit paused mid-stride, scowling at the phone. He didn’t need to be told she was damaged; it was obvious after spending two minutes with her. Just as it was clear that she was still a human being, a woman, with all the same needs as anyone who hadn’t been groomed and raped by their father. “I appreciate the warning, J. Have you ever considered the craziness might be a defense mechanism?”

“That level of insanity goes too deep to be an act, Grit. I know what you’re thinking, and I’m sure your Dom instincts are urging you to intervene. God knows I love her, more than I believed possible when it comes to my own blood, but Tabitha isn’t one who can be tamed.”

Taming sounded so suppressive, like pumping her full of pills and expecting her to revert back into a sheep to follow the rest of the flock. It wasn’t what he wanted for her; she was too bright, too colorful, in a world where gray and black dominated the unique.

Instead of arguing, Grit bit his tongue. He wondered how much time any of her brothers had actually spent with their baby sister, whether they’d looked deeper than the initial layer of her inner self. “I get it.”

“Good. With any luck, this assignment will be over in a few days and you can haul ass back home.”

When the call ended, Grit tossed his phone onto the couch in disgust, then stripped off his jacket. Tossing it on the hook beside the door, he blew out a breath and tried to think if he’d brought anything suitable for securing a strong, slightly insane, ludicrously skilled wildcat to his bed for an undetermined amount of time.

The answer was, of course, no.

Padded cuffs were probably best; less risk of injury to those delicate wrists. Chains with U-bolt attachments so she couldn’t chew her way free, or undo the couplings. Because he just knew, given the chance, Tabitha would gnaw her way through straps or rope like an oversized hamster.

Then she’d murder him in his sleep, no doubt.

Damn it, he was going to have to find a store and be prepared in case she decided to come back here. If she did, pinning her down and getting restraints on her was going to hurt.

Something else he needed to take into consideration was how the situation might trigger her. It was unlikely Jasper knew much about what Dominic did to her, his methods and tortures. It was more than possible she’d rather kill Grit than feel that vulnerable ever again.

Fuck. This assignment was never-ending, and kept throwing him curveballs.

Pizza and beer would wait, he decided, retrieving his phone by leaning over the back of the couch. Once he got settled on the couch, any inclination to go out again would fizzle and die like a wet sparkler.

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