I grab up her hands. “You were right all along.”
“I was?”
“Yeah, we should get to know our neighbors. After all, it’s Christmas.”
“Right.” She lifts her brow.
“Don’t look at me like I’m fuckin’ crazy.”
“I’m not; it’s just you’re usually . . .”
“Not fun, not happy, not here?” I wrap my arms around her waist and spin her around. “That’s all gonna change. You’ll see.”
I set her down, then whip out my phone and swipe Samson’s number.
After a few rings, he picks up. “Yeah?”
“We’re gonna take off Christmas Eve and Christmas.”
“Nick?”
“Who the fuck do you think it is?”
“Yesterday you said they were the two busiest nights of the year and that?—”
“Forget what I said, just take the days. Give you some time to spend with Lisbeth.”
“Are you sure?”
I gaze at the tree in the foyer. “You can use a day off, right?”
“Sure, but . . .”
“I’m gonna take the days too.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, I think the place can survive two nights without us.”
“Are you feeling all right?”
“Why does everybody keep asking me that?”
“‘Cause this isn’t like you. It doesn’t even really sound like you. I mean, you sound so . . . happy.”
“That’s ‘cause I am.” I turn away from Portia and Cheryl, head to the back of the house, and lower my voice. “Listen, there’s something else—Jax was the one who sold us out to Pierce.” I grip the phone tighter. “He’s been working with that bastard for the last four months.”
“How do you know?”
“Last night I had a visit from—I just know, all right?”
“You’re sure?”
“Pierce took our weakest link and leaned on him till he snapped, but part of it was my fault.”
“Your fault?” Samson asks.
“He had some good ideas about the club. I should’ve at least listened to him. Instead, I blew him off ‘cause I was too busy.”
