Page 62 of Jamie

“Says the guy who bleeds for sport and fucks as if he’s looking for a reason to break his dick,” I shot back.

He huffed a bitter laugh and rubbed his face. “Touché.”

We stared at each other. Two disasters in different flavors. Same damage, different masks. Then, he reached out and gripped my hand. We pulled into a crooked, awkward bro-hug neither of us was good at, but both of us needed. His chin knocked my temple and my shoulder twinged, but I held on just as hard. When we let go, something had shifted. Not healed, but less sharp.

Rio gestured to the closed door. “So… are we going to talk about whatever this Killian-Jamie situation is? Because I’ve got questions. Like, is this a thing? Did he sleep in here with you? Is he fucking you? You fucking him? Do I need to punch him in the mouth or threaten him with a wrench?”

I groaned, dropping my head back to the wall. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And you’re all ‘yes, sir’.”

“Fucks sake, Rio!”

He grinned, all mischief now. “Hey, I’m just saying… dude’s got the bossy top vibe.”

I threw a pillow at him, then sighed again—I’d been doing a lot of that. “He makes the noise in my head stop.”

Rio raised an eyebrow, but that was all I was giving him.

The rest was my secret.

TWENTY-TWO

Killian

A call wokeme from a doze—head in my hands, elbows braced on the kitchen counter, the cold laminate pressing into my skin. My phone buzzed against the inside of my forearm, sharp and insistent. I blinked at the screen, heart stuttering once before settling into a slow thud.LASSITER.

Of course.

I swiped to answer and forced some steel into my voice. “McKendrick.”

“You’ve been too quiet.” Lassiter said, smooth and cool as though we were old friends catching up over drinks.

I straightened, rubbed my face with my free hand. “Long week.”

“I expected results by now. What have you found?”

I paused a beat too long, still not fully clear-headed. “Still piecing things together. Trail’s messy. Shuffled names, dead ends. You know how this goes.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end, then a sharp inhale. “I hope you’re taking this seriously, McKendrick.”

I flinched at the tone—polite on the surface, but hard beneath. Not a threat. Not quite. But close enough to make something in my gut coil.

“I am,” I said flatly, trying to sound calm and controlled. “But the kind of mess I’m digging through doesn’t resolve in twenty-four hours. I’m working it,” I said, voice sharpening before I caught myself.

“Good.” The word was clipped, final. “Because myfriendsdon’t like waiting. Keep me posted.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone for a long second, then set it down, knuckles white where I gripped the edge of the counter. My head still ached, but the haze was gone. Replaced by something colder. Clearer.

Lassiter was watching. And he was getting nervous.

Good.

But fuck, I was wide awake again and Jamie wasin my room until late afternoon, so I had a lot of time to fill with research that led nowhere.

The sound of my bedroom door creaking open made my spine straighten. I didn’t turn around at first. Didn’t want to crowd him. I waited, listening to the shuffling of bare feet across the hardwood. Jamie appeared in the hallway a moment later, clinging to the wall as if gravity had turned against him.

---