I didn’t. However, if Jane and Asher were trying to find evidence against Asher’s father, it was because of what he did to Skye. Because of what he did to me. It had to be.
But that didn’t make any sense.
Shit.
“It’s been seven years,” she whispered. “And I’ve done nothing.”
My eyes widened. It was about Skye. Maybe even about me. “Jane?” I murmured, feeling a little sick. “What the hell is going on?”
“We’re trying.” Asher spoke again. “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 … 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.”
My brows pinched together.
“Huh?” Jane asked, mirroring my confusion.
“Someone beat him up.”
Who? I wasn’t aware of that.
“Why?”
“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.”
I heard them chuckle together over Foster’s misfortune, and again, I questioned everything.
All my plans suddenly hovered in the air, suspended.
“I love you, Ash,” Jane whispered.
Just like that, my plans were back in place.
“Love you too.”
Jealousy, a thick, writhing, painful feeling that turned my blood so hot I couldn’t think straight, cut through me. I thought I was past the jealousy.
Yet somehow, knowing Jane hadn’t forgotten about Skye made everything that little bit more complicated again. She hadn’t moved on from Skye but she’d moved on from me. And I hated her for the latter.
Maybe I could’ve gotten over it if she hadn’t moved on with my enemy’s fucking son.
Screw whatever plans Jane had in motion. I was still coming for them all.
Silence filled the Porsche as my ex and her boyfriend’s conversation drew to a halt. Lost in seething thoughts, it surprised me to realize I was almost at the small house I was renting in Glendale.
For now.
Sheila had agreed to my price, which meant I was moving to Silver Lake.
Shaking my head, I cursed how clammy and slick my palms felt against the wheel. I had to get my shit together. Sweaty palms were not the palms of a guy in control.
Look how far you’ve come, I tried to calm myself.
Never would I have imagined my book would become a runaway best seller, that I’d have the financial freedom to come to California and plan my vengeance.
Two years I’d been out.
Two years it had taken me to get to this point, and Jane Doe or Margot Higgins or whatever bullshit name she went by wouldn’t stop me now.
Swinging the car into my drive, I noted the red Lotus parked on the street in front of the house.
Dakota.
Hoping that meant news, I parked my rental and eyed the Lotus as I got out. The driver’s side door opened, and a long, gorgeous leg set off by a red stiletto appeared first. The rest of Dakota Jones followed it.
The tall, exceptionally built madam, wearing a tight dress, short on bottom but conservative on top, sashayed up the walk to the small porch. For once, I couldn’t see her. I kept seeing Jane standing in that library.
Separated from everyone else.
Finding refuge in books.
Holding my book in her hand.
Still so fucking beautiful, just one look cut me off at the knees.
“You okay?” Dakota asked, yanking me back to the present.
I grunted and turned toward the front door, letting us inside.
“Drink?” I offered.
“Water if you have it.”
The house was an open concept, and I could see Dakota settling into a leather armchair as I strode into the kitchen to get her bottled water from the fridge. I took one for myself, enjoying the chilled sweat on its surface. My skin burned; it had since seeing her.
Immersing myself in an ocean of cold water didn’t sound so bad.
I handed Dakota her bottle and took the seat across from her. We watched one another in silence as we each took a swig.
Her intelligent blue eyes studied me. “You’re on edge.”
Jane’s eyes, rounded with shock, filled my vision.
Those plump lips parted on a gasp.
Then I heard her whisper, “I love you, Ash.”
Fury flooded me.
Trying to stem the tide of emotion, I waved at Dakota. “You got news?”
Dakota had been hired by Irwin Alderidge, a powerful man I saved and befriended in prison. He knew Dakota because she ran the most elite brothel in Los Angeles. And she owed