Page 49 of The Editor’s Choice

“Hey,” I say, sitting down and nudging her shoulder with mine while offering a small smile. “It’s all going to be just fine. You heard Sara. She’s going to help with the video footage to the police. That’s a major win for us. That should hopefully get them onto a different track and buy us some time.”

“Yeah, I heard that. What wasn’t convincing was the conversation around the ‘fuckhead’ who was trying to buy me. The conversation that turns my stomach to lead any time his name is brought up,” she says, gaze locking with mine. The look in her eye is not anything close to what it’s been lately. This is more like… giving up.

“We’ve got this. Even if he does come for you, we’ll figure it out and never let that happen,” I soothe, rubbing her thigh gently. “Besides, I trained the fuckhead so I think I probably have a few tricks left up my sleeve that I forgot to teach him,” I shrug.

The look of shock that crosses her face would almost be laughable if we were in any situation other than the one we’re currently facing.

I may have taught Cain a lot of what he knows, but we differ in one major way. I have a moral compass I tend to follow. He doesn’t. That’s the biggest thing that makes him so damn dangerous, especially in a situation like this one.

He’ll go to the ends of the earth to get what he feels is his. Even if that’s a woman I’ve fallen madly in love with.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jade

The chill that comes over my body from finding out Roman trained Cain is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. It’s like I was instantly frozen from the inside out. Breath and blood stopping as I tried to process what just came out of his mouth.

“I trained him years ago,” he explains quickly. “When he first got into this lifestyle, I was assigned to train him and keep him from dying. After about a year, he started to worry me. I talked to James, but he did nothing.” He looks sorrowful as he fills me in on his history with Cain.

“He started doing some fucked up shit. Taking children, holding them hostage and demanding ransom. When the mothers didn’t have the cash to get their kid back, he would kindly offer them other ‘payment options’. That went against everything we were doing.” There’s a fury bubbling underneath the calm he’s trying to maintain.

“I went back to James about it, and he actually listened this time. The conversation between the two was pretty heated. All I know is Cain stormed out of James’s office, slamming the door behind him, all while telling James to go fuck himself,” he finishes, letting me absorb the information.

“That’s a lot,” I finally say, at a loss for any other words still.

“It is. I hadn’t heard much about him since then. A few run-ins with guys he’s employed through the last few years. A couple rumors of some terrible things he’s done, though I never bothered to dig into it and find out if any of that was even true. Now I wish I had kept up with him more. Maybe learned how he’s been operating since he left,” he says, running his hand through his hair.

For the first time, I notice the dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a decade, which probably isn’t far from the truth. I’d imagine it’d be hard to sleep well with all that on your conscience.

“We’ll get through it, remember?” I say, repeating his words to me. Even as unsure as I am, it helps to have him being confident about that, so I push through my discomfort and try to make it sound as positive as possible. Like it’s an undeniable truth.

***

The next week is unremarkable. Dinner dates, movie nights, mind-blowing sex, and future plans. It’s a whirlwind that has me gasping for breath, but I’m loving every single second of it.

Very little of our time is spent apart now. Mostly just when I have some writing to get done and he needs to finish some editing, though we sometimes do that together as well.

In all the bliss, I’ve managed to nearly forget all the danger looming around us, ready to take us out at any second. I’ve forgotten to be constantly aware of my surroundings and have drifted back toward my old care-free lifestyle without a second thought. Even Roman seems to have let his guard down some.

Until today that is.

Exactly one week from our last conversation with Sara, where things felt so settled. Our last night of deep discussions about dark possibilities that may be being reality in the coming days.

As I made my way to my front door after an hour at the gym this afternoon, a creeping feeling washed over me. Almost like I was being watched. I shook it off as best I could until I actually got to my front door, unlocked it, slid inside, and quietly shut and locked it behind me.

As soon as I turned my back to the door, panic slid over me like a blanket, coating my every nerve ending. The hair on my arms rose, along with the hair on the back of my neck. I was coated in goosebumps as I silently tiptoed into my apartment.

Nothing seemed out of place. Everything was exactly where I had left it. As I breathed a sigh of relief, determined to shake whatever paranoia this was, I noticed it.

A single piece of paper stuck to my fridge. Scrawled across it, a note is written in sloppy handwriting. Written in a hurry. But the bottom of the page is what causes my stomach to somersault, sending my heartrate through the roof.

Hello, precious.

A deal’s a deal.I’ll be collecting soon.

-C

The note in and of itself is enough to send me into a panic. But once it registers that the entire thing is written in blood, I’m hanging my head over the sink, violently expelling my pre-workout.