Page 151 of A Dirty Business
I’d seen every painting she made. Saw every new one the next time I walked through.
I’d been to her apartment. Walked through when she wasn’t there.
It was really fucking obvious she wanted nothing to do with me.
Shit hit the fan.
My uncle was calling, demanding to know what was happening. Who was talking to the FBI, to NYPD, to whoever else because it was a whole joint task force by the time the raid happened. And Ashton, the shit he pulled.
“You did what?” I must’ve heard Ashton wrong, what he did, what he did to Jess.
A wall slammed down over his face, and he raised his chin up. “You heard me. I did what I had to do. We had to know if it was her—”
“It wasn’t! I told you it wasn’t.”
“I had to know.” His jaw tightened.
His goddamn jaw. The jaw I was going to break. The jaw that he’d have to have surgery to put back in place. “You fucking did not do that to her.”
“I did, Trace. I’d do it again too. I had to know!”
“No! You didn’t believe me.”
“I did it FOR YOU!”
“Bullshit.”
“NO! No, Trace. No. We have to know. This life, we have to know. Anyone can turn on us, and you know it. Anyone. Even the women we love. They’re the ones who’ll do it first. I did it for you.” His eyes were blazing. He meant every word he said, but he took my woman.
I turned, facing him directly, and I reached up. My coat was taken off first.
Ashton’s eyes flickered now. He cursed, lowering his head, but he faced me too.
He took Jess. He had her tied to a chair.
Ashton was studying me. His eyes were lidded. He knew what was coming.
I no longer cared what was in his head, because he tortured the woman I loved.
“If anyone should’ve been the one to question her, it should’ve been me.”
He closed his eyes, his head low, and a savage curse slipped from him.
I raised an eyebrow. Yeah. He’d fucked up, and he was getting it now.
“My woman. My interrogation.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“Don’t tell me what I wouldn’t have done. There are always ways to do it without needing to make HER FEEL LIKE SHE’S DROWNING!”
I was done with words.
I knew exactly what he’d done, and he’d pay.
They’d all pay, but Jess was gone.
No calls. No texts. She was gone from the club.
