Page 69 of Triple Power Play 3
I open the glass bottle and take a swig. “You two are getting tattoos?”
“Hopefully.” He sets packages of fruit on the counter. “We’ll see.”
“Of like…crossing hockey sticks? Or…” I bite my lips to suppress my mischievous grin.
He throws a grape at me. “That’s vulgar.”
I giggle, and it echoes through the mostly empty space. “Not as vulgar as you stealing my boyfriend. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
He pops a grape in his mouth, all smug. “You have another one. Get over it.”
“Ha-ha, funny,” I deadpan. “I have a question, though. Where were the cameras?”
“Downtown penthouse, in the smoke detectors.”
Fucking Jackson.
30
REECE
The patio door slides open and shut, heavy footsteps approaching, undoubtedly Ethan’s.
“If you’re here to apologize for him, save your breath.” I raise the bottle to my lips and take a long swig.
He winces and drops into the Adirondack chair beside me. “You can’t drink here.”
I figured as much, but my talk with Aurora left me restless, and I grabbed a beer to ease the discomfort.
She chose Jackson and always will. When I asked if she still wanted to leave, she refused. She’ll never leave him, and he doesn’t trust me. It’s him or me—I won’t allow her to remain caught in our crossfire.
“I didn’t expect anyone to come out here.”
“Jax might, though, so please don’t.” He runs his fingers through his chaotic hair. “Throw out whatever you have or finish it.”
“Charlie brought over a six-pack, sorry. It’s been a while, and he was hoping to hang out. I’ll take it with me when I go.”
He releases an audible breath. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. Have you thought about what you’re doing after this case?”
“Every day. Why?”
He stretches his legs out in front of him. “Can you resign?”
“Possibility. Why?”
Tired eyes meet mine. “I’ll match your pay.”
Miffed, I shake my head. “You two think everything is about money—everything can be solved by throwing money at it. You couldn’t pay me enough to put up with him.”
He clenches his jaw, and the muscle furrows. “You grew up normal, didn’t you? Then, in the military, some shit happened. Now, your rose-colored glasses are shattered, along with your good-guy persona. You look at Jax and all his mistakes and can’t fathom how we could love him. Maybe you think the same of yourself, and him receiving what you deem him unworthy of really pisses you off, doesn’t it?”
The scorching heat of humiliation ignites my face, and my body breaks into a cold sweat. I ball my fists. “He treats her like shit and always has. He doesn’t deserve her.”
“Neither do I.” He shrugs his tense shoulders. “Neither do you. But she needs us.”
Something in the way he says ‘us’ has me dropping my guard, finishing my beer with a long pull, and sinking back in the chair. “He doesn’t trust me. I’m only making things worse for her.”
“Jax is deeply perceptive. He can pick up on intentions almost instantly, and he’s highly attuned to our surroundings. He’ll continue to distrust you if he detects animosity or deceit.”
