I have no right. I'm the man who was paid to murder her, not become her new best friend. And Hamilton has history with her—years of service. But still, the sight of his arms around her made me want to snap his neck.
That's how I know I love her.
I stood there watching that exchange feeling toxic as fuck because I wanted to get him away from her as fast as possible, and I felt like a complete asshole. After everything she'd been through, she deserved that reconciliation. But the way he looked at her, and he whispered things he thought I didn't hear… He likes her too, probably wanted her at some point.
But I want her gratitude aimed at me. I want her to reach for me the way she reached for Hamilton today, and I want it to be permanent, not a passing thing. It makes my throat constrict so it's hard to swallow my food. The envy consumes me, cushioned only by the fact that Everette Hamilton stayed behind in a Kingwood motel with plans to meet us in Chicago in ten days or so.
At least I don't have to see him, and he can't just reach out to her for now.
My Coke glass sweats onto the table and the ice melts into brown water. Truckers shuffle past with trays of burgers and burnt coffee. None of them look twice at the hooded man in the corner booth staring at nothing as I eat the stale bread and bland meat.
All the while, I can't stop thinking about Sabine. I picture her under the spray of water with her head back and her eyes closed. Water cascades over her body in places I long to touch her. And I picture her scrubbing Hamilton’s hug off her skin like it burns.
The jealousy doesn't cool. It hardens in my chest but only strengthens the resolve I feel. There's no doubt in my mind that she belongs to me, but try to tell her that.
I don’t know how I'd even go about telling her I love her. Words like that are ammunition the world can use against you. But they live in me now, and they're changing the shape of every decision left on the table.
My phone buzzes in my pocket so I pull it out, screen lighting up with Lucas’s number. I haven't heard from him in a few days and I've been waiting for an update. So I swipe to answer and press the phone to my ear while I lean back in the booth and scan the dining room again.
“Yeah,” I answer as I focus on the hallway leading to the showers.
Lucas starts talking fast. “Yeah, Jace, we got trouble." He sighs but doesn't let me get a word in before continuing. "The boss ain't happy. That military douche went rogue. He musta beat the boss's name out of that broker 'cause he showed up and nearly laid Barone out. He knows the woman's alive, Jace, and the boss ain't happy…."
I pick up the plastic Coke cup, swirl the melted ice, and take a sip of the flat liquid. A family pushes through the doors, coats dripping, kids whining about being hungry while the father herds them toward the bathrooms.
I pause until they're past me to respond. "Tell me exactly what happened."
"Bryan's his name… Said someone is coming for him and said you're failing your job. He told the boss to get a new hitter and demanded the rest of those hits be executed now. Barone is calling for you to be neutralized."
That word sounds sterile, but that's exactly how the family works. Barone won't say "kill him" because if anyone links thatback to him as a bonafide threat, he goes down for it. Saying "eliminate" or "neutralize" can be interpreted in many ways, which gives plausible deniability.
“He named me?” I ask.
“Directly. Said you fucked the job, left witnesses breathing. Every crew in the city has your photo, your truck plates, everything.”
The waitress moves past my booth with a pot of coffee, refilling mugs for the truckers. One of them thanks her with a nod, the other keeps staring at his phone. I set the Coke down and drum my fingers on the laminate.
“What sort of timeline we talkin' about?" I knew this was coming. I just didn't figure it'd happen until Sabine had turned in her evidence and I reported back with my updated tally.
“They're rollin' now, buddy. Don’t come back to Chicago. Hole up somewhere quiet. I’ll feed you what I hear.”
Turning my gaze, I stare out the window into the darkness. Rain hammers the semis, and a driver climbs into his cab. The engine roars to life while I watch.
“I have to come back,” I tell Lucas. “I have business there… And I'm planning to stop Barone in his tracks." A wry smile crosses my face as I watch my own reflection. "I'm thinking early retirement. Barone's made mistakes and gotten sloppy. I have all the evidence I need to shut him up for good."
Lucas exhales hard. “You drop that and you’re dead before it hits the news. He’ll burn the city to keep you quiet."
“Then he learns not to push me,” I say.
A semi pulls in from the ramp, air brakes hissing, tires throwing water. The driver kills the lights and the cab rocks as he climbs down. I watch him as my mind continues to think through contingencies. If Barone really does have a hit out for me, I'm gonna need help when we get back to the city, or at the very least, extra cash to help me and Sabine stay hidden.
“You’re serious,” Lucas mutters.
“Dead serious. Tell him I’m finishing this my way.”
The line stays open while Lucas breathes on the other end. “Watch your back,” he finally says.
I end the call and slide the phone into my pocket, then sit there trying to let that information flow through me without causing too much of a mess in my nerves.
