Indifference.
Inside my chest, my heart pounds twice its normal speed. My voice is eerily level as I speak the greatest lie of my life.
“Jo Valentine means nothing to me.Nothing.”
There’s a long moment of silence. Jaxon weighs my words, doubt scored deeply across his features.
“If she’s nothing to you, why did you come here looking for her?” he asks slowly. “Why did you just throw me against a wall for coming near her?”
Damn it.
He may be high, but he’s not a total idiot.
I shrug. “I heard you took her from the party. I thought I might be able to intervene before you did something to land yourself back in jail — not to mention, get our family tossed out on the streets.” I pause. “You realize Vincent Valentine is close friends with the State Police Superintendent and more than a few members of foreign intelligence, don’t you? Kidnapping his only daughter isn’t a smart move if you want to stay on the right side of the law. And what do you think will happen to Ma and Pa if you piss off their employers?”
Jaxon pales. “I didn’t think…”
“Of course you didn’t. You never think.” I shake my head. “I just hope you didn’t do anything to harm her. For your sake.”
“I didn’t touch her! I swear!”
“Then where did you take her?”
“She’s down at the boathouse. She said she wanted to look at the stars for awhile.” He sucks in a jagged breath. “I walked her there to be nice. I was on my way back to my car when I saw you up here on the terrace.”
Relief floods me; I’m careful not to let it show. But deep inside my heart, where Jaxon cannot see, two words chase one another back and forth through every chamber — a thudding underscore to every beat.
She’s safe.
She’s safe.
She’s safe.
Chapter Seventeen
JOSEPHINE
The moon crawlsacross the sky in slow degrees. I lay on the dock, flat on my back, staring up at it as waves roll gently beneath me. Trying to sort out my thoughts.
They feel as unfathomable as those distant stars; a lightyear away from reality.
It’s been a strange night, to say the least. I’m not sure what’s a greater surprise — Ryan Snyder turning out to be the biggest asshole on planet earth, or Jaxon Reyes swooping in as my unexpected knight-in-tattooed-armor.
I haven’t seen Jax since he went to prison. I didn’t even know he was out on parole. Apparently, Archer didn’t feel the need to inform me of his early release. I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t sting to realize I’m no longer the person he confides in.
There was a time he told me every thought inside his head, every secret of his heart, every longing within his soul.
After Jaxon came to my rescue at the party, he drove me home in a beat-up maroon sedan I’ve never seen before. It’s bumper hung so low, it scraped the curb with a shower of sparks every time we went up a hill.
He was mostly silent as we wound through the dark streets toward Cormorant House. I was equally quiet, caught up in my own head, too consumed by the memory of Ryan’s reaching hands to make much small talk. I tried not to glance too often in his direction, feeling somewhat awkward in his presence despite our long history.
I’ve known Jaxon since I was an infant. He’s Archer’s older brother — and his spitting image, surplus a few tattoos. But we’ve never been particularly close. Four years is a big age gap when you’re young. And by the time we were all teenagers, Jaxon was already heading down a very different path. One of overdoses and rehab stints and, eventually, a three-year sentence at Cedar-Junction.
Despite his time behind bars, Jaxon doesn’t seem any worse for wear. He still has that sly smile, that darting gaze that never lingers long enough to get a proper read on his thoughts. When he walked me to the boathouse, he ruffled my hair like a little sister as we said our goodbyes.
Like old times.
That was almost an hour ago. It’s nearly midnight, now. I shiver against the wood planks, chilled to the bone. The warmth of the day has long since faded. My shorts and t-shirt offer little protection from the wind whipping off the water. Goosebumps break out across my skin; I rub my arms to subdue them, a futile task.