Page 110 of Rise of the King (Checkmate 5)

“I don’t know.”

“You would have just walked?”

I shrug again. “I don’t know. I would have tacked those tears onto my cryfest, too.”

“Please stay here, Sophia. Stay with me, and let me hold you while you cry. You’ll tear my heart out if you walk away now. I’ll come with you, okay? If you’re unhappy in this town, I’ll come wherever you’re going, so long as you promise to wear the tutu.”

Snot bubbles in my nostril as I laugh and smack his stomach. “I’m not wearing the tutu, dummy.”

“Sophiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaa?” He says it on a whisper and yet makes my heart skip a beat. “What did the ballerina say when her man begged her to stay with him forever?”

* * *

Holding Jay’s hand in mine and tucking them both against my growling stomach, we walk the hall like a couple prisoners walking the plank, but he does his with a smile.

And I do mine while breathing in and promising myself that everything will be okay.

Stopping at the doorway and swallowing my nerves when the kitchen turns quiet with anticipation, Jay brings his hands up and cups my cheeks. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“You gotta trust me on this.”

“I do. I promise.”

“And by trusting me, you trust Kane. And Kane seems to trust that asshole rebound dude, and then there’s Eric and Spence, and I trust Riley because he’s a bionic man now, and no one in the history of the world was bionic and bad.”

“What about Captain Hook?”

My question shocks Jay, throws him off balance, then draws a large smile to his face. “Except that dude. There’s always gonna be one bad apple in the bunch. Maybe just stay on the opposite side of the room from Riley while we keep an eye on him.”

Laughing, I hold Jay’s hands, then step onto my toes and press my lips to his. “I love you. We can do this.”

“Yeah, we can. Because my girl is the original badass from way back, and she can lift her feet above her head.” Shrugging, he presses a kiss to my cheek. “Every man’s wildest dreams. You’re the whole package, babe. Now come on.” Turning, but taking my hand again, he pushes the door open and reveals the group that doesn’t even pretend not to wait for us. “She was having a moment, guys. It’s because Andi took one of her curly fries, but we got it ironed out now.”

Stepping forward because he’s Jay’s big brother, Kane stops in front of us and studies me with a lifted brow. “You okay there, Soph? All sorted?”

Nodding, I wipe a hand beneath my nose. “I’m good. I don’t normally cry, so, ya know, this won’t be a regular occurrence or anything.”

“You can cry anytime you need…” He coughs to clear his throat. “With my girl. In another room while you share a tub of ice cream and your deepest, darkest secrets.” Chuckling, he pulls me forward and envelops me in the kind of hug I never would have accepted before Jay. Or maybe even before mymomentjust a moment ago. “We’re taking care of this, okay? Because I know what it’s like to lose your baby sibling and feel like it’s all your own fault.” Stepping back, he awkwardly pats my shoulder. “We got this. Also, Riley is probably our evil member. So steer clear of him.”

“Hey!” Riley moves closer and whacks the back of Kane’s leg with his walking cane. “I’m the least dirty of you all. I’m a cop!”

“Youwerea cop, Rook.” Turning, Kane flashes him a megawatt smile. “Now you’re one of us. We got shit to do and a plan to make.”

The food is replenished, and my laptop is given back to me. I find our man still on lookout hill with his sniper rifle tucked close to his face and realize, from the moment mymomentbegan until now, barely twenty minutes have passed. My breakdowns are fast and loud, but then they’re gone, and I’m back to business.

“Who’s on the hill, Soph?” Jay tosses a tennis ball from hand to hand as he paces the kitchen. “Is it Colum, or one of his men?”

Sliding through the internet as though bodily, rather than fingers on a keyboard, I pull up cell data, find the GPS records, then I drill down another layer and find an identity.

“The phone on the hill belongs to a Redmond Clay. Thirty-six years old, married, Caucasian, and straight. He’s listed as a contractor in the self-defense industry–”

“He’s a hit man?” Kane says. “People buy his time and skills, and he takes his targets out. Right?”

“Right.” Biting my bottom lip and concentrating, I slide into Clay’s bank accounts and take a look around. “He has no set pricing, but they’re all round numbers. Some jobs are worth five grand, I guess. And some are worth a hell of a lot more.”

“I’m honored to be worth a cool mil,” Kane drawls. “What do you think Colum will do when he finds out we’re both still alive and kicking?”

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