Page 16 of Crossed By the Stars
I rose from my seat, and Ilan came running. I paid an exorbitant amount over what was due, not only because of the little scene we’d made but because I could always count onEn Feuto squeeze me in. Ilan gave me my favorite booth no matter if I called ten minutes before I showed up or days in advance.
Cillian and Rana led us out of the restaurant the same way we’d come in, through the kitchen. After clearing the alley and the vehicles, they disappeared inside to give Jada and me another moment of privacy.
My chest ached at the thought of her going back to her penthouse alone after it had been violated. I hated not knowing if Rana’s team could truly protect her. Jada Mori may never truly be mine, but I’d never recover from the break inside me if something terrible happened to her again—this time on my watch.
As if reading my thoughts, Jada spoke first. “Don’t continue to worry your pretty little head about me, Armaud. I’m fine. I’m always fine.”
“You were fine because people were afraid to come after you. That’s obviously not the case anymore.”
“You can’t rescue me from my past. I knew the consequences of being Tsuyoshi Mori’s daughter long ago, just like I knew the consequences of agreeing to help Dawson.”
But she didn’t…not really. She had no clue just how heartless her father could be.
“I’m worried about Dawson, too,” I said gently. “If they’ve come for you, who’s to say they won’t go after him?”
The way she fidgeted told me she’d been worrying about it as well.
“It’s just another reason for Dawson and Violet to stay away,” she responded.
“But they should know the truth, in case someone finds them. It’s not like my father’s yacht is inconspicuous.”
She flipped her phone from hand to hand as she considered it. “I’ll tell them. I’d just like to give Rana and the team a day or so to see if they can figure it out before I ruin their honeymoon.”
It was a concession that I knew was hard for her to make. More than I’d hoped for, but it didn’t do anything to ease the anxiety I felt at her going alone to her penthouse.
“At least let me send extra security?” I pushed, trying not to beg even as I wanted to demand she come with me to the safety of my home.
“I don’t need your help. Rana’s team has come out in full force. We’re good.” But there was doubt in her eyes. I could see it even in the darkness.
My jaw clenched, and her hand came up, rubbing the scruff on my chin. Her entire being softened as she said, “Thank you for worrying about me.”
In that brief moment, I saw the teenager I’d fallen for. It had been her dynamic attitude and energy that had first reeled me in, but it had been her surprise that someone could actually care that had snagged my heart.
I covered her hand with mine, but the look on her face was already gone, shuttered away. She pulled back, spun around on her four-inch heels with grace and agility, and headed for the car where Rana was waiting behind the wheel.
I watched her go, despising myself for letting it happen, loathing the conversation I’d have to have with Dawson, loathing the risk she was taking in going back to her penthouse, but hating most that it was her father who’d done this to her. Taken her faith in humanity and shown her, instead, the dark depths of it before leaving her to deal with it all on her own.
But that was what Tsuyoshi Mori was known for. Cruelty. Treating people as if they were disposable. As her car disappeared, I got into the Escalade, closed my eyes, and rested my head on the seatback.
My memories flashed back two years to the agony of finding her in the hospital and the feeling I’d had of being tossed to sea without a life preserver. With emotions as rocky and uneven as the waves, I’d flown across the Atlantic to see my father and beg him to understand the choice I had to make.
I found him in his home office. He looked tired, probably as tired as I felt. I sat down across from him at his desk, a spot we’d taken up decades ago when I was a child coming in from school. He’d always ensured that either he or my mother was present when I came home, not just a nanny.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
I played with my watch, clasping and unclasping the latch for so long I thought he’d given up on an answer, but he was just being my father. Patient. Waiting for me to tell him instead of pushing or demanding.
I held back the truth, not quite ready to say the words. I told him the one fact I could. “Jada Mori was shot.”
“My God, what happened? Is she all right?”
That was the real question. With Jada, you were never really sure if she was truly okay. She kept her pain locked behind a vault of sarcasm and wit. She had no one standing in her corner. No one she could lean into. No one to hold her and let her sob her way to healing.
“She lost a lot of blood and will be in the hospital for a while, but she’ll recover physically.”
“Her father’s world…this is the consequence of it,” he said, and there was an anger to his voice I didn’t understand. He only knew Jada in passing, so his vehemence surprised me.
“She was working with the FBI to try and put him out of business,” I told him.
