He exhales, his entire demeanor deflating. “I don’t know. It’s every couple that you get.”
Since I’m fairly certain I’ve got things nailed down, I go for it. Laying it all bare to be sure. “There are tracking devices in several of my piercings?”
He bobs his head sheepishly.
Mother. Fucker. Is there no one I can trust?
It’s not that shocking that they’d track me, but all of it compounded is too much.
Tears well in my eyes. I’m not sure who I feel most betrayed by. Jax, for lying to me when we’ve always been each other’s safe place. Axel, for lying about God only knows what—who my father is and some behind-the-scenes deal gone wrong that got my parents killed. Ryker, for going along with it. Ivy, Celeste, and the guys, for not fighting harder for me.
Do Maddox and Cash know? At a minimum, they’re aware of the tracking.
No one is on my side. The whole staff here—that extended family I spoke of—is first and foremost Axel’s.
I really am only playing a part.
There’s no sense in confiding in Jax about what I heard upstairs. Especially since it carries some ominous threat with it. I need to be strategic.
Before I turn to leave, I wag my finger at him in warning. “Do not tell Axel, Ryker, or anyone that I know about this. You already screwed me over with this bullshit, Jax. Don’t do it again.”
He holds up surrendering hands. “This conversation never happened.”
I storm away without another word and fish a butterscotch hard candy out of my pocket, popping it into my mouth to keep my facial expression blank. The last thing I need is someone reporting tomy brothers that I seemed upset. Other than that, I haven’t a clue how to approach this. I hate being at odds with Jax. He’s sensitive. I’m sure it’s killing him that I’m angry, but we can bury the hatchet later when I calm down. It would’ve been so much easier if he was in this with me. We could have forged a direction or a plan.
Other than knowing I need to do a shit ton of research to figure out who Balzano is and what he has to do with Jax and me, I have no plan. There was mention of what could happen if one of us got sick. That feels like it means something. But that will all have to wait. The priority now is to hang out with everyone back at the penthouse and act natural so they don’t suspect anything.
As soon as I walk in, I drop down on the couch in the midst of their chaotic banter. The tension appears to have dissolved easily for them. No one asks about how I got back so quickly, so I forgo an explanation.
While everyone jabbers on, Liam, who is to my right, leans into me and smirks. I like Liam. He reminds me of Cash sometimes—blond hair, devious smile, a mirthful nature to escort his domineering air. He’s entertaining.
“The wife and I enjoyed your candy basket, Noire,” he says, flaunting his devious grin in full force.
That has me genuinely cackling. “I’m so glad. I wanted Celeste to have something in case the honeymoon fellshort. What was her favorite? The Lemonheads, the Red Hots, or the Dick Taylor nuts?”
“My man never falls short, but I especially enjoyed the nuts,” Celeste croons with a cheeky grin.
Liam drags her onto his lap. “You do always pay those special attention, Ace.”
I guess I encouraged the PDA by gifting them inuendo treats. It was an inside joke from when Liam railed Celeste in the dressing room beside me. Never a dull moment with this crew. That was also shortly before the shop blew up, but it might as well be two separate experiences.
“I stole the Lemonheads,” Wells admits while bouncing Felicity,which has Ivy giggling beside him. “Hadn’t tried those since I was a kid. I’m moving them into the rotation.”
“Oh. That reminds me.” I leap off the sofa and race to my room to grab something for him.
Like Wells, I’m a candy addict, but it pains me that he limits himself to simplistic choices. After retrieving the small bag from my dresser, I return to the living area and dangle it in front of him.
“Trade ya,” I offer, exchanging the candy for the sweet baby girl—she’ll provide a much-needed shield for my angst. “One of our guests makes those. You’ve got to limit the crap and go for the gold once in a while.”
He chuckles, glancing at Axel before returning to me. “Solid advice, Rena. Let’s see what you’ve got here.”
Sifting through, he finds gourmet butterscotch candies—plain, salted, and caramel. The way his green eyes light up when he pops one in his mouth tells me I did good.
“Tastes like a winner.” Wells dips his chin to me in respect. I’ve always enjoyed impressing him. He doesn’t extend his approval to many, so when he does, it feels hard-fought.
I flourish a megawatt grin and snuggle the little bundle against me, even though there is still a boulder of anxiety inhabiting my lungs, clambering to block my airway again. It seems intensified by the fact that Ty’s gaze is continually swinging to me—like a laser beam, flushing my skin wherever it lands.
Is that new? The way he can’t keep his eyes off me. I’d think it was the baby he was gaping at if I hadn’t caught him a couple of times before I was holding her. I wish this were happening on a day when my world wasn’t imploding. So I could relish it, memorize every sidelong glance and crinkle of his ravenous brown embers.
