Page 110 of The Jack*ss in Class

“Excessive?” I supplied. “Welcome to the Kingman approach to problem-solving.”

“Effective,” Declan corrected. “We’ve got Chris, Hayes, and Everett each driving a decoy. Once you’re in, we splitin different directions. If anyone’s watching, they won’t know which SUV to follow.”

Parker handed Tempest a DSU hoodie and baseball cap. “Add these over what you’re wearing. Different silhouette from what the press has seen today.”

I was impressed by how quickly Tempest adapted, pulling on the disguise without question. We made our exit in a carefully choreographed move, all four vehicle doors opening simultaneously, multiple people moving between them in a deliberate pattern of misdirection, before doors slammed and engines started.

I settled into the backseat of our SUV with Tempest, Declan at the wheel. The four identical vehicles pulled away in a synchronized dance, then split at the first intersection, each heading in a different direction.

“Nicely executed,” Declan said, checking the rearview mirror. “No tails that I can see.”

“You guys really have this down to a science,” Tempest said, removing the cap now that we were safely away.

“Unfortunately, we’ve had plenty of practice,” Declan replied. “The media circus around me and my fiancée got pretty intense last year. We had to get creative. We know what to do to help you out.”

“Why would you all help me?” Tempest asked softly. “You barely know me.”

The question caught me off guard. Didn’t she understand by now?

“Because you’re important to Flynn,” Dec said simply, before I could find the words. “And because no one deserves to have their privacy ripped away without consent. We protect our own.”

My phone rang. Jules.

“Dad just declared an emergency Kingman family game night. We’re meeting at Cool Beans.”

“Game night?” Tempest asked after I hung up. “Now?”

“Kingman tradition,” I explained. “My mom wanted us to have something in our lives that wasn’t playing football or watching football. After she...died, it was Dad’s way of keeping us together when everything felt like it was falling apart.”

“It’s sacred,” Dec added. “No excuses, no absences. And always viciously competitive.”

“I don’t think I’d be good company,” Tempest said. “Not tonight.”

I took her hand. “It’ll just be family. No press, no pressure. Just people who care about you.”

“But they don’t even know me.”

“They know you’re important to me,” I said. “That’s enough.”

She studied my face for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay.”

Her acceptance surprised me. I’d expected more resistance, more retreat into the protective isolation she’d maintained for so long. Maybe she was finally realizing she didn’t have to face everything alone.

Cool Beans Cat Café looked like an ordinary coffee shop from the outside, but inside, it was a sanctuary of comfort disguised as quirky charm. Cats lounged on custom-built perches and cubbies throughout the space, fairy lights twinkled from the ceiling, and the scent of fresh coffee and tea mixed with the subtle aroma of the homemade treats in the display case.

My entire family was already there, the café closed to the public for our private event. Willa’s uncles, the owners, had created a Kingman-worthy spread of food and drinks along the counter.

I kept my hand on the small of Tempest’s back as we entered, feeling her tense beside me.

“It’s okay,” I murmured. “They don’t bite. Well, except maybe Jules, but only if provoked.”

That earned me a tiny smile, the first I’d seen since this nightmare began.

Chris spotted us first, raising a hand in greeting as he disentangled himself from a heated debate with Everett over what appeared to be a Monopoly strategy. He approached with his easy quarterback confidence, the same way he’d greet a rookie on his first day of training camp.

“Tempest,” he said warmly, offering his hand. “Good to finally meet you properly. Flynn won’t shut up about you.”

Before she could respond, a woman with glasses and a bright smile appeared at Chris’s side. Tempest’s eyes widened in recognition.

---