Page 152 of A Dirty Business
Now she was gone from her apartment.
She came here, to her mother’s house, the mother who had spewed hate toward her. I didn’t know who the hell the woman I loved was surrounding herself with, but they were not her friends. They were not her allies.
Leo Aguila.
Patrick Rivera, a.k.a. Bear.
They lied. They said one thing to her face and did the opposite.
Then Kelly. She made sense. Justin made sense, but they were both caught while the fight hadn’t paused between the Worthing family and mine. It escalated because Jess wasn’t the mole. Someone else was. I just needed to find out who.
But Jess. She was almost a sick obsession by now, and here I was, walking through her mother’s basement because this was where she had moved her canvases. The studio she was using was being torn down. I saw the notice to the tenant myself.
I stopped at the latest canvas, seeing that this was a new one. She hadn’t painted this two days ago.
I crouched down, studying it.
It’d been me. Then storm landscapes. Now she was painting herself. This latest one was her as a child. She was in the corner, arms wrapped around her legs. The shadows were large, threatening, looming over her. Two male shadows were outside the window. The door was open an inch, the light shining in, and there, right where the doorknob should’ve been, was a hand instead.
Who was that? What were they going to do? Comfort her? Terrorize her?
Harm her?
I had an irrational need to know what happened on that night, find out who put her cowering in the corner, and tear them apart.
I’d been having that feeling a lot lately.
Click, squeak.
The sound of a gun cocking and a step protesting under someone’s weight told me the jig was up.
Jess’s voice trailed down from the stairs. “Do not move. I’ve called the co—oh.” She came down three steps, squatting enough to see me. “Wha—you’re in my basement?!”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You texted earlier. Said you wanted to meet.”
“Not in my own house.”
“Your mother’s.”
She came down the last few steps, putting her gun away. “Are you kidding me?”
“No.” Fine. She wanted to fight. So did I!
I needed it because this last month was bullshit.
I got in her face. “Where were you?”
“Wha—” She faltered, stepping back. “I’m having the locks changed. And what are you talking about?”
“The raid. Where were you?”
“Did Ashton not tell you?”
“I know what he did, and believe me, I am not happy about that, either, but during the raid, where were you?”
“I was tipped off.”
“I know.”
