Page 45 of Chasing the Flame
“Yeah,” I breathe, fighting the blush threatening to creep up my neck. I’m suddenly feeling vulnerable—like that kiss changed everything between us, but I don’t know how to process that yet. So, I change the subject. It’s what I’m best at. “You mentioned something about a compromise?”
Jettson grins at me, his thumb idly caressing the side of my face in lazy circles. The man has me eating out of the palm of his hand, and he knows it. “How about this?” he drawls. “We go, but on two conditions.”
I blink, staring at him with wide eyes, sure that I misheard him. “W-what conditions?” His fingers move unbearably slowly, working their way up my arm, across my collarbone, and down my back.
“Condition number one, we stay together atalltimes. You don’t leave without me. Condition number two, if at any point in time I deem it unsafe…weleave. No questions asked, and no arguing. If I say we go, we go. Can you live with that?” He cocks his head to the side, looking at me like he’s waiting for another eruption.
I chew on my bottom lip, darting a glance to the right, at the portrait that hangs over the fireplace. Luke’s stern gaze looks down upon us, and my stoic expression in the painting is enough to make me cringe.
Guilt punches me in the gut, stealing my breath. I shove it down, locking it away deep within until I’m ready to deal with it. Turning back to him, I sigh and say, “Yeah, I think I can live with that. That’s why I showed you in the first place.” I roll my eyes at him to emphasize my point. I don’t give a fuck if it is bratty.
He chuckles, “So, when do we go?”
“The contact said that we would meet at ten,” I say, glancing at my watch and frown. “We should probably go if we’re going to make it.”
“How do you know who to look for?” He asks me, a crease furrowing in the middle of his brow.
“Said to look for the dahlia,” I say with a shrug.
He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation. “Well, come on. I’ll drive.”
Jettson backs up, reaching a hand out to me. I lace my fingers in his, trying to ignore how right it feels. We paused by the table in the foyer, and I grabbed my purse and keys, putting on a pair of Chucks. Following Jettson out the door, I’m surprised when he reaches for my hand again, leading me to his truck.
In true gentlemanly fashion, he opens the door for me again, helping me inside. Once he’s behind the wheel, we hurry down my driveway, and as we drive away from my house, questions whirl around in my mind. The most prominent? What if this is all a big mistake?
The restaurant is in full swing when we reach Earl’s Diner. It’s nestled just outside Liberty, right off the highway among a grove of oak and pine trees. The bell chimes overhead as we enter the building, and my eyes immediately search for a sign of my friend.
I find it two tables down, a sage green vase resting on the table holds a single black dahlia. The booth is empty, and I nudge Jettson in the shoulder, jerking my head toward the table. “Sit anywhere you like, my name’s Dot. I’ll be with you shortly.” A plump older woman with silver hair smiles at us, waving an arm toward the tables. I smile back at her and approach the table with the dahlia flower, trying to ignore how my stomach twists as I slide into the booth.
There’s a menu already on the table, and my stomach growls at the mouth-watering smells coming from the kitchen. I don’t care what anyone says, these little diners usually have the best food. “Might as well grab a bite while we’re here,” I murmur, glancing over the menu.
Jettson grunts, his gaze scanning the room every few seconds. I try to relax and look over the menu, but with Jettson so wound up, it’s hard to focus. The bell chimes again, and Jettson instantly stiffens. His posture is rigid, his hands gripping the edge of the booth tightly. Awoman saunters toward us, a devilish glint in her hazel eyes. I observe her appearance as she slides into the seat across from us.
She has raven-colored hair, her wild ringlets in complete disarray, but somehow, it works for her. Her hazel eyes are steely, edged with something wild that makes me squirm in my seat. Tattoos litter her right arm, beautiful but dark designs that scream danger. She has high cheekbones and pouty lips, and she would totally be the type of girl I’d go for in my past.
My throat feels dry, but I speak anyway, needing to start this meeting. “I think you have some information for me.”
She narrows her eyes at me, tilting her head slightly before saying, “Not even a hello? Fuck, okay, I guess right down to business.”
The mysterious woman grins and winks at me. Giving her a sheepish smile, I say, “I’m sorry, I suppose that was rude. But, I guess you could say you’ve piqued my interest.”
“I’d imagine anyone would be curious after finding out their husband is cheating on them. But… it looks like you’re keeping some secrets of your own.” Her words are not malicious—just idle curiosity, as her calculated gaze slips to Jettson.
He frowns at her, “How’d you even know—”
“HowI know isn’t important,” She starts, her tone dropping low with a hint of a twang, as she ignores Jettson’s glare. “What’s important is I cut the feed and stuck it on an endless loop of Averie. It looks like she’s alone in the house and doing her normal day-to-day. So don’t worry—I'm good at keeping secrets.” She cackles, the sound jarring and a bit out of place considering. “The look on your faces! Priceless. Yes, to answer the question burning in Averie’s eyes…there are pin cameras all over your house.”
I suck in a breath, my gaze instantly finding Jettson’s. What we did, in plain fucking sight? “Jesus Christ,” I mutter, returning my gaze tothe mysterious woman before me. “What do you want? Why are you telling me this?”
“Like I told you, I’m invested in your survival,” she shrugs. “Taking down your husband, the rapists, and murderers he’s harboring? Well, you could say I consider it the cherry on top.”
“Excuse me, what?!” Jettson exclaims, eyeing her warily.
She narrows her steel-tipped eyes at him, her eyes darkening. “Don’t even try to pretend, Jettson Noxwood. You knew this was happening. You had the power to do something.” She tuts, twirling her straw as she stares him down.
Jettson’s gaze is glacial, his jaw clenched. He grits out, “You don’t know the full story. Or you haven’t dug deep enough yet.”
“Oh, you mean the night you killed several members, their sons, and nearly set the whole building on fire.” She huffs, rubbing her nails against her tank top like she’s bored. “Yeah, sweetie, I know all about that. Just like I know you were shipped off to a military college by your dad and recruited from there.”
