might even have been crying, and it made me feel like shit. The same feeling I’d had for years now. I was a crappy human being, trying to do the right thing in a shitty way.
Instead of getting into the SUV with Ito-san and Saito-san, I led the way to the private parking lot where I’d left the Aston Martin DB11 Coupe that Dax had all but forced me to buy after our big win in Greece. The twisted humor I’d found in buying a car James Bond would have driven had been lost on him even if it wasn’t lost on me.
As we walked to the car, with me practically carrying her, Jada breathed out, “You’re right. They know.”
I glanced around warily, even though there was no one near us.
“We don’t know that for sure.”
She laughed sarcastically.
“We’re almost there, Jada. The next race is our last big hurdle.”
She didn’t say anything else. I wanted to give her some grand reassurance, but I wouldn’t lie to her. I opened the car door for her, and she curled into the leather seat, flipping her phone case over and over in her lap. Leather to leather to leather. That’s how I lived these days. My ass hadn’t sat on anything but it in so long I wasn’t sure it would know what to do when I did.
We didn’t say anything once we’d gotten into the car, and after almost wearing out the phone, Jada fell asleep. She stayed that way for the rest of the hour-long trip from Hartford down to New London. The silence had me reliving every moment of the last week, trying to figure out what else may have tipped them off. By the time I pulled into the driveway of her house, I still hadn’t found my answer.
I tried to shake her awake, but she barely budged. That was when I knew she’d had more than alcohol. Tranquilizers were her favor of choice when she felt really out of control.
I scooped her up, unlocked the front door with my thumb to the scanner, and headed down the marble-floored hallway to her bedroom. I laid her down, brushing the tangle of curls away from her face. The black tones shimmered with purple and blue in the pale light of the Tiffany lamp.
She was beautiful. Devastatingly tortured and beautiful. A combination that many men would find fascinating, but there was nothing between Jada and me but friendship. Trust manufactured out of necessity.
She looked up at me with heavily hooded eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said, slurring.
“Do I need to stay?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nah, just going to sleep it off.”
“You have to be more careful,” I said, chest twisting again.
“I know,” she said and then was out once more.
I watched her chest expand and contract for a few minutes before I reached over and slid off her heels. Pulling the covers from underneath her, I drew them up over her shoulder. I rubbed my hand over my face. Mixed in with the exhaustion was enough frustration and fear to leave me wired instead of ready to pass out.
I watched her sleep until I was certain she’d be okay and then left.
Full of energy that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, I drove into downtown New London at a pace as stupid as everything else in my life these days. I parked at the pier and jogged into the coffee shop, catching glances for the short-sleeved T-shirt, deck shorts, and boat shoes layering my body. I was clearly out of place. The people out and about this morning were all dressed in jeans and sweaters as a breeze blew in, reminding everyone it was no longer summer.
My eyes swept the room, noticing the small line waiting to order and the group at a table near the register. A slender guy with black hair, too much hair gel, and dark eyes was standing in dress pants and a button-down, talking to two couples. He looked like he was holding court, and I wanted to snort at the image. True power usually came in a much quieter form. I’d seen it firsthand.
I placed my order, and as I waited for my extra-large espresso, I couldn’t help overhearing the conversation the group was having.
“So, you’re here with your girlfriend, then? Where are you staying?” one of the ladies asked him.
He looked pained for a moment. “It’s a great little B&B called Books and Beds by the Sea.”
I groaned internally. I hated when Mandy and Leena