I wonder if she’s aware that Tessa had her four-year-old composing ransom notes to taunt me. She’d probably think that was hilarious.
“You gotta watch him, Tessa.” Ryker chuckles, snaking an arm around his wife. “He’ll sell ya down the river.”
I’m guessing that wisdom is based on experience. Remy has also tattled on me a time or two.
The exchange is a testament to how much Tessa already belongs here because of Mercy and Remy. She might not want me involved with her family—or her other world—but she’s already embedded in my personal life.
Our welcome carries on for a few more minutes, but we migrate from the door into the family room. It has Art Deco charm—geometric lines, plush materials, nostalgic pieces, and exuberant mayhem. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the NOLA cityscape, and the walls are littered with our memories, but the adjacent kitchen is the real showstopper. It’s dark and lavish with a black-and-gold color scheme, but more importantly, it’s where we break bread and catch up a few times a week, no matter how busy things get. Axel has always insisted on that.
Music chimes from the vintage record player. Axel has our chefs cater lunch. The conversation flows. And Tessa soaks it all in, not shying away from interacting, but not volunteering much either. She plays with Remy and chats with Mercy and Jax.
It’s enough for me to feel comfortable following Axel when he kicks his chin toward the kitchen island. I knew this was coming.
Ryker and Cash join us too. And when the four of us are crowded into the corner of the kitchen, Axel hisses his order.
“Start talking. Makarov? Why today? Why with Tessa?”
It might seem odd to carry on this conversation in our open-concept family space, but it keeps us all calm. And they likely knew I would’ve refused to leave Tess after the morning we had.
Cash’s brows arch, as if to tell me to spill my shit so I don’t end up dead, and, yeah, that’s valid.
Keeping my voice low, I don’t sugarcoat it. “I killed Niko a couple of years ago.”
“You what?” Axel snarls, catching the rise of his voice and glancing at the family room to be sure he didn’t draw attention.
Before he can tack anything on, Ryker’s forehead pinches. “Youdid?”
The way he stressesyoutells me he has a working theory that doesn’t align with what I divulged, and I don’t miss Cash’s slanted head. It isn’t like me to hide something of this magnitude, especially for years. Our life is built on an empire of secrets, so we try not to have too many between us, though that is often a feat.
That, accompanied by my escorting Tessa everywhere, regardless of us developing a relationship, surely has them speculating. But this is the story I’m sticking to. Even with them.
“Idid,” I say again. “But it’s messy. I found him raping a girl and—”
“Tessa?” Ryker’s jaw locks with that assumption, and the other two stiffen.
They’d be protective over any woman in that instance, but it soothes me to hear it regarding her.
“No.” I blow out a breath because I really don’t know how to navigate this without sharing something Violet didn’t ever want uttered again and also being damn sure Tessa isn’t tied to it. “It’s so fucking complicated.”
“Make it uncomplicated,” Axel insists. “This is a disaster. Our security guys already detained one of the drivers coming after you. Interrogation could take a while, but their first response was that they were hired blindly. Dark web job.”
“Fuck,” I grumble. That is unfortunate. The only upside to being shot at would be to nail down who was after us and what they know. Hopefully, they’ll get something, which is why I add, “Liam should look into that.”
“He’s already on it,” Axel assures me. “We also heard one of the drivers was shot. Our cops are working on identification.”
My chest swells with pride. Tessa took that asshole out. I thought she might have when the bullet penetrated the windshield. I wonder if she’s considered that.
“Okay.” I pull out my butterfly knife, inch backward a few steps, and flip it around, needing the comfortingclicksandclacks. “So, we wait.”
“No. We don’t fucking wait. The fiasco this morning already requires a massive cover-up, and Makarov isn’t even here yet. You have a story to share.” He studies me for a minute before he glances at Tessa. “You’re protecting her.”
“Yes. And all of you.” I pause my twirling for emphasis. “The less you know, the better. There was dark web chatter that Liam found. Not an identifiable source, but enough to know there is speculation regarding local New Orleans organizations involved with Niko’s disappearance, including us. You allnotknowing is safer, in case the wrong person sniffs around.”
He huffs a mirthless chuckle, irritated that I’m hiding things. “Well, based on your summary of the call you took, we already know Vincent Lund was trying to track down the money his grandson had handed off to Niko Makarov. Are you the one who took it?”
“Fuck no,” I grit out, swinging the knife closed and pocketing it. There’s no way around this. “I killed the guy to save the girl, realized who he was, cut the motherfucker up into pieces, and dropped him in the bayou myself. The site was cleaned. I was fucking careful. But after my conversation with Lund, I started to dig. He had serial numbers from several bundles. He never got a hit on them, but between Liam searching with KORT resources and me tapping into some international casino connections, we discovered that every few months, a stack shows up in the Bahamas.”
“That’s a start, I guess.” Axel’s sapphire eyes narrow. He’s still trying to decipher what I’m not revealing.
