Luke memorizes the plate number without comment. The car rolls slowly toward the exit and disappears. Neither of us pretends it was random. When he opens the passenger door for me, I hesitate just long enough to glance back at the club windows. Through the tinted glass, I can still see Jackson seated at his table.
Watching.
Let him.
Tonight wasn’t about intimidation. It was reconnaissance.
And now we know how close he’s willing to get.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ANDI
Ididn’t suggest visiting Luke’s parents because I felt nostalgic.
I suggested it because if Jackson Rhoades was bold enough to sit in a nightclub ten feet from us, then I had to assume he was mapping every connection in our lives. Sam and Linda were no longer walking beside the problem. They were inside it.
Luke doesn’t like this plan. He’s quiet on the drive, jaw set, hands tight on the steering wheel. When we pull into the driveway, he turns off the ignition but doesn’t move.
“We don’t have to do this,” he says. “We can leave.”
I reach for his hand. “Running doesn’t shrink him.”
His eyes flick toward the house. “I’m not worried about him right now.”
“I know.”
He exhales through his nose, then nods once. We step out together.
The house looks the same. Neatly trimmed hedges. Polished windows. The kind of place that has never known instability.
Inside, voices carry from the living room.
Then I hear it. A laugh. Low. Smooth. Controlled. Instantly, a scent of aftershave thickens, sharp and chemical, catching in my throat. My body reacts before my mind does. Heat drains from my hands. The fine hair along my arms prickles despite the warmth in the house, and my jaw tightens with a faint vibration deep in the muscle. My spine locks. My fingers go cold. Luke feels it immediately. His hand settles at my waist.
“No,” I whisper, even though I already know.
We round the corner into the living room.
Jackson Rhoades is seated comfortably on the sofa across from Sam and Linda, as if he has been invited for tea. Hisposture is relaxed. His smile measured. He looks perfectly at ease in a space that once felt like safety.
Luke goes still beside me. Not confused, not surprised. Still.
Sam rises first. “I’m surprised to see you two! Let me introduce you. This is Congressman?—”
“I know who he is,” Luke says flatly.
Jackson’s gaze slides to him with faint amusement. “Good to see you again, Luke.”
There is no handshake. No polite nod. Only a surreptitious reveal that he knows exactly who Luke is without an introduction.
Luke steps slightly in front of me without making a show of it. The movement is subtle, instinctive, and territorial in the quietest way.
“What are you doing here?” Luke asks.
Sam blinks between us. “You two know each other?”
And that’s when the realization hits them.
