Page 56 of Romeo

“Did Odie pay you?For finding me.”

Riley shakes his head and sets the last of the now clean dishes onto the drying rack beside the sink.“I don’t expect him to, either.”

“Why not?You did a job.”

“We don’t just work for money,” Riley replies as he turns to face me, crossing his muscular arms.“In fact, a lot of the cases we take on we do for free.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what God called us to do.”Again, he speaks so candidly, so factual.What would it feel like to believe God called me to do something?Anything, really.

“I can probably pull some money from my grandfather’s accounts.The ones I have access to, anyway.If Odie hasn’t already drained them and moved the money somewhere else.”

“You don’t need to pay me, Jules.That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?Why do you care if I live or die?”

He uncrosses his arms and grips both sides of the countertop, his gaze darkening.“Because you’re worth a whole lot more than Odie has ever let you believe,” he replies, tone low.“And I want you to get the chance to realize that yourself.”

Chapter20

Riley

Romeo’s whining wakes me.

I move slowly, as I always do since jarring movements can sometimes alert someone that you’re awake when it’s in your best interest for them to think you’re still asleep.I don’t waste time putting on a shirt as I withdraw the firearm from beneath my pillow then slowly creep to the cracked door and peer out.

The hall is dark, but there’s a sliver of light coming from beneath the door to Jules’s grandfather’s study.A shadow moves, and my heart rate increases.Jules’s bedroom door is closed, no light peeking out from beneath it.

Did the killer come back?

Is it Odie?

“Fuss, Romeo,” I order.Heel.He falls into step beside me, and we move near silently down the hall.

I pause just outside the closed door.I can hear someone moving around, but there’s no other sound.Weapon at the ready, I grip the door handle and turn, then shove the door open and rush inside with my weapon.

But the moment I see who’s inside, I lower it.

Jules is on the floor, a ferocity in her tear-filled gaze I’ve never seen.“You should go back to bed,” she says then sniffles and returns to scrubbing the bloodstained carpet just in front of the closet she’d hid in.

“Jules, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”she snaps.“It’s dirty, and I’m cleaning it.”She’s scrubbing with such anger that I’m sure she’s going to tear her stitches—if she hasn’t already.

I set my gun down on the desk and slowly cross toward her, then I kneel beside her.“Jules.”I keep my tone soft and level, comforting, because the pain she’s tried so hard to hide is a noose around her throat, strangling the light right out of her.

“No.You said it yourself.It’s no longer a crime scene.Which means I can clean it.He would have wanted it cleaned.”

I reach down and cover her hand with mine.It’s shaking—they both are.And even though I imagine it’s the last thing she wants to do, she drops the scrub brush on the carpet and leans into my arms as I wrap them around her.

Her sobs come hard and fast, shoulders shaking as she falls apart on the bloodstained floor of her grandfather’s study.

“I feel so useless,” she cries.“My whole life has been one poor mistake after the other.I can’t help but wonder if this wasn’t my fault too.What if I’m the reason he’s dead?What if Ididmiss something in that contract and?—”

There’s so much guilt in her tone, so much weighing on her shoulders.“You’re not the reason he’s dead.The guy who pulled the trigger is.”

“No.I’ve messed up so many times.Odie’s always told me my past will come back to haunt me.What if this is it?What if someone I wronged came to take the only thing I had left?”

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