Page 128 of Beneath the Burn

She cupped her mouth and closed her eyes.

Christ, he’d reminded her of Noah’s death. “Charlee—”

“It’s okay.” She dropped her hand, eyes resting on her lap. “Walking away was my worst decision, too.”

His heart flipped over. Sure, if she had joined him for coffee, Noah would’ve survived, but he told himself she was thinking of the three years she might’ve had with Jay.

“Roy’s assistant delivered this.” She shoved a finger under the seal and tore it open. Chest heaving, she unfolded the letter and held it under the dome light at an angle the three of them could read silently.

Miss Charlee Grosky

27124 Los Hermosos Way

Los Angeles, CA 90027

Dear Miss Grosky,

Oxford Security is pleased to offer you a position as Resident Artist for our organization. We are excited about the talent you would bring to our company.

Should you accept the offer, you will be working in the San Francisco penthouse, where our security teams reside. You will report directly to the CEO of Oxford Industries. Your initial task will be to sketch a portrait for one of our high-ranking security officers. The commissioned work will be presented to the officer’s niece as a gift for her nineteenth birthday.

You will be classified as an executive-level employee. Your initial compensation package includes full medical and dental coverage, and fringe benefits. In addition, Oxford Security will loan you an amount equal to all of your expenses incurred byThe Burn. Should you remain with Oxford Security at least three years, the loan will be forgiven in its entirety.

We look forward to your arrival at our company and are confident your skills will play a key role in the morale of our personnel. Please sign this letter and return it to me at your earliest convenience as a written acceptance of the offer.Let me know if you have any questions or if I can do anything to make your arrival easier.

Sincerely,

Alan Patera

Executive Assistant to Roy Oxford

Oxford Industries

Jay’s stomach turned and bucked. “What the almighty fuck? He’s offering you a job?”

“The threat is here.” She traced a trembling finger over the paragraph about the nineteen-year-old niece and looked at Nathan, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m not seeing it. What am I missing?”

Nathan leaned close and slid the letter from her hand. His eyes flickered over the words as his free hand gripped hers.

Jay wasn’t sure which felt worse, his jealousy or his exclusion from their history together. He knew their shared torment was what connected the two of them in the most intimate of ways. He stuffed that to the back of his mind and focused on the letter.

She was right. Roy wouldn’t offer her a job. He’d blackmail her. “Nathan, how well did you know the high-ranking officers? Who has nieces this age?” He flicked a finger at the letter.

“I don’t know.” Nathan rubbed his brow, his tone low and deadly. “We didn’t discuss our personal lives.”

Then why would Roy mention anything about an employee’s family if Charlee and Nathan didn’t know them? “What about the undercover guy? Do you know—”

“Fuck.” Nathan pulled his phone out of his pocket, swiped the screen, and held it to his ear. “Mr. Munt…Yes. Sorry to call so late. I need to know if your contact has a nineteen-year-old niece…That’s right. If he does, he’s been compromised…I’d rather discuss it over a more secure line…Understood.” He returned the phone to his pocket and met Jay’s eyes. “He doesn’t know the spotter’s identity. He hired him through a private company. Personal details best kept personal for obvious reasons. He’ll find out and call me back.”

Jay reread the letter in Nathan’s outstretched hand. “What about the expenses incurred byThe Burn? What is he threatening with this?”

“He’s saying that if I return to him willingly for three years, he’llforgiveyou by leaving your band alone.”

The buzz of Nathan’s phone cracked the tension, and everyone seemed to hold their breath as Nathan answered it.

“Mr. Munt.” Silence. “Keep me updated.” He lowered the phone, lips taut, jaw squared. “The spotter isn’t answering his phone, but this isn’t unusual given his position at the penthouse. Munt put a call into the private company that employs him to get a warning to his family. He’ll call back.”

She frowned. “See what Crane and the rest of your guys can make of the letter.” Laying her head back, she touched Jay’s knee, lingered there for a moment, and returned her hand to her lap.

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