Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
And then I glanced at Jordyn. This time, when I placed my hands around her waist, it wasn’t to move her because she no longer blocked my path to vengeance. I sat on the chair near the door and placed her on my lap. “Yes, I really did it.” My voice softened. “For you. Me. Lisette. Anyone stuck in that basement. I also made an anonymous call to the police. Told them to search Hagerty’s home just in case … y’know?”
Sighing, Jordyn wedged her face against my neck. Breathed in. “My heart feels lighter just to hear you say that the Gov”—she shook her head as if fleeing the compulsion of that sick title—“can’t harm another person.”
“Speaking of harm. Listen, I have a program scrubbing the internet for Aleksandr right now. Before the police arrived at his home in July, he fled. I know he has other houses.”
“Yep.” She sighed. “Bratva Tsar perks.”
“I need to take care of him for you.”
“Sounds like you want to leave me here again while you’re off finishing your hit list.”
“No.” I scoffed. “Well.”
“You and your list, Jamie. Remember, you had items on the list to help me feel at home at your place? I understand that’s how your brain works. Which means, if you find him, you’re not marrying me tomorrow because you’ll be too busy cutting down his ranks?”
“I want to marry you tomorrow. But yes. Rules of engagement indicate that I need to protect you. I’ll have another discussion with my family. Maybe get more of them to watch you and Rebel …” I groaned. My poor girl.
“What about you? I just said Aleksandr has an entire Bratva backing him, Jamie! Let’s go down to Mexico. I’ll wait tables. You’ll—” She scrubbed a hand over her head. “Okay, that sounded dumb. But you aren’t doing this for us. You’re doing it for me. Ugh! This is all my fault.” She worked her way out of my lap.
“Jor—”
“It is.” Her shoulders lifted. “Let’s eat breakfast. For some reason, our life is like an action flick where nobody gets to eat.”
“Speaking of which.” I scrubbed the back of my neck, following her out of the room and downstairs. “I got a burrito for you from El Ch—”
“Excuse me?” Jordyn’s tone was more had I lost my mind? than an attempt at clarification. Hand on hips, she stood in the middle of the living room. “You. Went. To. El Chuy. Without. Me?”
A smile perched on my lips. How else would I respond to her wrath? “Listen, I put it on dry ice.”
“So, we’re gonna pretend that was your idea?” came a murmured Italian voice hidden beneath mounds of blankets in front of the fireplace.
“Shuddup, Lorenzo G—”
“You about to use my entire government? Too early, fra.” Enzo chuckled, climbing to his feet in the same clothes as yesterday. “Sweetheart, just call me Enzo.”
Jordyn shook his hand. “Thank you for helping Jamie yesterday.”
“No, no. Your guy is a beast. Handled every element of our mission. Even the TikTok ice cream.”
Her eyes brightened in delight. “You brought me ice cream, too?”
Uh-oh. Enzo bought just the two ice creams. We ate them after using them as a solid alibi. I put my arm around her waist and led her into the kitchen. “Breakfast first. Then ice cream.”
“Mm-hmm.” Jordyn pulled out a mixing bowl. “You didn’t get me ice cream. I’ll pay you back one way or another. And I have a lifetime to do it. Now, help me cut some bell peppers. I’m cooking frittatas for your friend.”
“What about me?” I folded my arms.
“Heh, sounds like I’m Jordyn’s inspiration.” Enzo wriggled his brows.
“Do that again. I dare you.”
“Jamie,” Jordyn snapped.
“Looks like someone got their marching orders.” Enzo saluted me while folding a blanket neater than any of my brothers ever had.
The glare I cut warned him to keep laughing. One day, he’d blow through the bevy of right nows he kept nailing. A woman unwilling to tolerate his nonsense would bring him to heel. And I was here for it.
We were soon seated at the dining room table. As I’d made introductions between Enzo, Mam, and Little Brody, Mam slapped my brother’s hand. “Mind your manners. The chef prays.”
He placed the serving spoon back into the bowl.
I spoke up. “I can—”
Jordyn stepped on my foot under the table. Leg jittering, she said a quick prayer for breakfast.
Once we started eating, I said, “Mam, I need to ask you something.” Something I didn’t want her running to the kitchen for that food hammer she used or crying.
“What’s this about?” Mam took a bite of food. “Oh, Jordyn. You’ve added a delightful spin to these frittatas.”
“Thank you.” Jordyn blushed.
In between bites, Brody grunted the same, and Enzo offered a chef’s kiss.
Still on the task at hand, I said, “I need you to call Nolan.”