Rising up from the couch, he floats into his arms, squeezing him tight as though she didn’t just refer to her husband as a ‘them’.
Meanwhile, I sit on the couch, my overnight bag at my feet as I resist the urge to yank my phone out, call Dallas, and beg for him to turn around. It’s only been about fifteen, twenty minutes. He couldn’t have gotten that far yet, right?
No.
No.
He’ll be back. He promised.
And if I can’t trust my husband, who can I trust?
FOURTEEN
FEAR
DALLAS
Princetown is the kind of quiet suburb where no one looks too closely at their neighbors. It has wide lawns, perfectly manicured. Privacy fences. Houses spaced far enough apart that screams don’t carry unless someone’s listening for them.
Tonight, I hope no one is listening.
When I pull up at the address, Adrian is leaning against the hood of his car, suit jacket missing, sleeves rolled up, expression unreadable. The moon winks off the gold hoops in his ears. His cigarette is in place, the filter lost in his mussed hair.
On the passenger side, Bas is wearing his road jacket and a feral grin on his pretty boy face. He cracks his knuckles, eyes gleaming, no sign of the rascal who has charmed the panties off of half of Harmony Heights. These days, he’s loyal to one woman and one woman only, but the former Order outcast is one of my most loyal allies.
Adrian is my cousin. Bas is a lifelong friend, just like Connor. Nah. I can trust Connor to take care of Lucy same way as I cantrust Adrian and Bas to have my back in Princetown because the four of us… we’re more than that.
We’re brothers, and I wouldn’t want anyone here with me while we take care of business.
Joining them by Adrian’s car, I pat my jeans, making sure I have my pocketknife. All of us have one, a gift from Connor back when we were still boys. He had a fascination with blades all the way back then, while Adrian and I moved on to guns. And, yeah, I’ve got a Ruger tucked in my waistband. I still brought my knife because, knowing what tonight’s gonna bring, I’ll probably need it.
Because I had to take the detour, packing Lucy’s bag and bringing her to Connor’s place, I got a late start. Bas and Adrian went on ahead to check on our target, make sure he didn’t do a runner or some shit like that. In the Order, you never know. I may be King, but there are too many at the top who want to see me fall. All it takes is one Owed to figure out I’m hiding Lucy in the penthouse with me to decide to tip Julian off.
He won’t come back for her. I’m not worried about that. But I want him to pay. I want to know what kind of hell he put Lucy through over the last five years that has her whimpering while she dreams, then crawling into my bed after because something fucked her up way before her fall.
And, of course, it’s the fall I want to talk to him about, too. The fall, and what part exactly did he play in it.
Thank fucking God for Adrian Heller. He might’ve delegated himself as the head of the ‘clean-up Dallas’s messes’ crew, but that worked in our favor. Not only did he find Julian’s address, but he somehow convinced Detective Hargrove to send him the grainy camera footage from the Stanton. He offered to take a watch, see if perhaps either him or I recognized the man on the screen. Adrian had asked back at St. Luke’s, but the detectiverefused. Now, weeks into a dead-end case, he figured it was worth a shot.
No doubt about it, that was Julian Fairchild in the footage. Not like I was going to tell the detective. As far as he knows,I’m Julian Fairchild. Then again, it would just take him running Julian’s name to see that I’m not, but why would he? For all his blustering that he wanted to solve what happened to Lucy for her sake, he’s doing a piss-poor job of it.
That’s fine. We’ve got this tonight.
When Adrian and Bas arrived in Princetown ahead of me, they showed up just as Julian was pulling out of his drive. Keeping a short distance behind him, they followed him to a nearby shopping center. It was late. After dark. All the stores were closed, so I don’t know why he stopped there unless he could tell he was being followed, but if he thought he could confront his stalkers, he was wrong.
Between Bas and Adrian, they muscled him into the trunk of Adrian’s car before bringing him back to his rented home.
Since they’re waiting for me out here, I figure that’s where Julian is now. After giving Bas a fist bump, I reach down and open the trunk.
Julian Fairchild blinks against the duct tape on his mouth and the darkness surrounding us as I haul him upright. His hair is mussed, his suit wrinkled, and his dark eyes are wild. He stinks like piss.
He stinks like fear.
Good.
He should be afraid.
Before any of his neighbors could peek out their windows and see what we’re doing, I force Julian to march toward the house. Having already rolled him, Bas follows me with the key. He lets the three of us inside the near-empty rental house. Adrian stays out front near his car, as watchful as ever. Ifsomeone thinks they saw something, he’ll take care of it while I take care of Julian.
