Page 227 of Cross the Line
It seems weird to withhold the information from them when it could offer them some hope. Isn’t that what any heartbroken person would want?
“Eli, my hands are tied here. I can’t force Brett’s hand on this, and I think if we push it, that it could backfire.”
Lex has never led me astray. If he says his hands are tied, they’re tied.
“By a beat, what are we talking about? A few weeks, months… I mean, I don’t think Salem has more than a few months left before she gives birth.” Finley holds four fingers up, but I don’t correct myself.
“Like I said, ball isn’t in my court. I’ll give him a few days to get back to me before I contact him again. In the meantime, I think it’s a good idea to keep her out of sight, and for the love of God, make sure Tomes doesn’t know she’s hiding out with you guys before the game,” he’s part begging and part warning.
“We’re going to put her up in a hotel until we hear from the Cavanaughs or she figures something else out.”
“Let me handle the hotel. It needs to be done under the radar. Next thing you know, the press will be digging for dirt and painting a sordid image of you guys falling apart or stepping out on each other?—”
“She can stay in my apartment,” I say before thinking about it. Finley opens her mouth to object, at the same time as Jayden slaps his hands to his face. “It makes the most sense. Fin can come and go between the apartments without anyone knowing. Salem is safe, and also not under our feet. The place is empty anyway…”
Jayden levels me with a cocked stare while Finley’s bobbing her head in debate.
“It makes sense,” I tell them, only for Lex to ask, “Who are you selling that idea to? Me or you? It’s your place, do with it what you want, just don’t give me more work. Clean up is the bane of my existence.”
“Got it,” I retort.
“On the whole Ryker Hallman front, the information is useful. Makes me wonder what he has on Presley Tomes for his father to go out on a limb for him.” For a moment, I’m hopeful at his words. Until he goes on to say, “Nevertheless, doesn’t help us nail the asshole or prove that he’s harassing you guys.”
Fuck.
Of course it doesn’t. Even if I told him the full story, it would be useless without proof.
“Great.” With a huff, I shuffle to the door and let myself out. “Thanks for helping me out with the Salem situation. I owe you.”
The instant I end the call, Jayden asks, “You’re going to put her in the apartment across the way from our home? Like… how is that going to work?”
“How else does it work? We put her in a hotel, and the press photograph Fin going in and out all the time, they’re going to investigate.” The screwed up expression on his face softens, and the vein in his neck shrinks a tad. Whether he likes it or not, it only makes sensethis way. “Whether it’s Parker’s hotel or not, they will get suspicious, and eventually they’ll figure out there’s something there. Then we’re not just keeping Salem out of sight, we’re worrying about Fin’s safety because Presley will come for us, and she’ll be the soft spot he preys on.”
“Fuck, we’re so in over our heads with this.”
“What if the Cavanaughs don’t want Salem and the baby around?” Finley asks, looking between JJ and me.
“I don’t know,” is all I can say because it’s the truth.
“Fucking pray they do,” Jayden groans, hooking a long arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a playful kiss. His eyes are on mine when he snatches my hand up while he adds, “When we spoke about kids, I meant ours.”
CHAPTER 64
JAYDEN
It’s the third period. We have three minutes till the buzzer sounds. The game is tied 3-3.
“Cherio,” Dylan screams for Weissman while I chase the puck behind our goal.
The Wolves’ center comes rushing at me, stick out, ready to steal the puck from under my nose. Last minute, just as the blade of his stick sweeps across the ice, I turn, taking the brunt of his momentum on my back at the same time as I slap the puck to Weissman.
With a quick breath, I shoot after him, making sure I have him covered to finish the play to Bruce right at the Wolves’s blue line. Their defense has been tight all night.
The shots we’ve had on goal say we should be breezing to the final buzzer. Instead, we’re taking the fight all the way to the last second.
As soon as Bruce has the puck, I pull back to cover the line while Weissman and Eli change over. There’s two minutes left on the clock, and we can’t be on the defensive anymore. It’s not working, and overtime isn’t an option any of us are keen on.
Looks like The Wolves have the same idea because they swap over their grinder for their enforcer—PresleyfuckingTomes.
