from you and you’ll be just another one of his victims.”
I flinched at the thought. “It’s been seven years,” I whispered. “And I’ve done nothing.”
“We’re trying.” He reached over to rub a soothing hand down my arm. “And we’ve got time. This isn’t a movie where the bad guy gets his within the two-hour run time. Foster is smart, but one day he’ll slip up, and we’ll be there when he does.” He suddenly grinned at me. “Here’s something that might cheer you up: he’s got a black eye and he’s cradling his left side like he has cracked ribs.”
I frowned. “Huh?”
“Someone beat him up.”
“Why?” Not that I cared. I would’ve liked to have seen it.
“No clue. But he’s not talking, so whoever it was managed to get one over on him. You should see him. He’s using makeup to try to hide it.”
His laughter made me chuckle. I rolled my head toward him, my hair rustling in my ear with the movement. “I love you, Ash.”
His face softened. “Love you too.”
17
JAMIE
The black Porsche Taycan glided down the hills toward Glendale with smooth quietness, and the view of LA from Laurel Canyon barely registered. It was a valley of lights in the distance, of life and humanity. Where once I’d seen the beauty in it, all I saw now were the shadows in between the lights. The dark places where dark deeds were done.
Seeing her for the first time in two years didn’t help my mood.
Jane.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter and seethed.
She left the party with Asher Steadman.
And for the first time in two years, I felt my control slip.
The one thing Irwin Alderidge taught me was to keep my emotions locked down tight. When you were a cold, emotionless bastard, no one could guess what you were thinking. What you were planning.
I thought I’d heeded his lessons well … but whenever Jane entered the equation, my fucking heart raced and a cold sweat dampened my skin. Watching her leave with the son of the bastard who destroyed my life was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. And I’d done a lot of difficult shit in my life.
I locked down. Stopped myself from racing out of Patel Smith’s house to confront Jane.
It wasn’t part of the plan.
I’d spooked her. Just like I’d hoped. It was the beginning.
When I first discovered Jane was working in Hollywood, I felt betrayed. Sure, the job was art related, but our plans involved a quiet, creative life away from the glitz and lights of Hollywood. Money had never been our priority. Fame was to be avoided at all costs. Yet, there she was: Steadman’s woman. Captured in gossip rags in her bikini on a resort vacation with him. I hated those photos when I first saw them online. Jane sprawled across the pages for any fucker to fantasize over.
It was out of my hands, and now I couldn’t care less. I stopped caring the moment I found out she was sleeping with the enemy.
Traitor.
“Anything on Foster?” Jane’s voice filled the Porsche.
The question made my breath catch.
Getting into Patel Smith’s party had been way too easy. These people needed to up their security. What was even easier was planting a listening device in Asher Steadman’s $2 million car. It shouldn’t have been. But Asher’s friend, Kent Bishop, had an expensive drug problem and was willing to do anything for cash. He’d put the bug in his friend’s car when they drove out to Malibu for a surf that morning.
Asher hadn’t said anything of importance so far.
Hearing Jane’s voice, though, made my heart pound.
“I can’t get Lisa to talk,” Asher replied. “He’s paid her off. Like he has the last few. And they’re too scared he’ll ruin their careers. I have to be careful too. If Foster discovers I’m investigating him, it’s all over.”
What the fuck? My hands tightened around the steering wheel. Did this conversation mean what I thought it meant? Were Jane and Asher investigating Foster too?
“Maybe it’s time I went in,” Jane said.
“No,” Asher snapped. “We will not have this conversation again.”
What was she talking about?
“Jane, a honey trap is too dangerous. And who is to say whatever you discover would stand up in court? Worst-case scenario—and the most likely scenario—he takes what he wants from you and you’ll be just another one of his victims.”
Fucking hell. She was talking about luring Foster Steadman into … what? Trying to attack her? Was she insane?