me that very information, making Jesse’s story pan out. “You’ve been playing secret agent for a year, and you haven’t been able to get evidence to prove they’re criminals? Wonder why. Oh, I’ll tell you. It’s because they’re not criminals!”
“I’ve been gathering the evidence I need for an indictment.”
My eyes widen at the word indictment. “You’re trying to put my father in jail!” I turn away in betrayal. “And you have the nerve to say we’re in this together. That you think that I should trust you.”
I stand up and walk away from him, pacing the living room as I play with the charm of my necklace.
He rises to his feet yet stands in place. “I was never supposed to get close to you.”
“It’s not your job to protect me. You’re supposed to be surveilling my father and uncle. You don’t know where they are, so I’m the next best thing.”
“I’m protecting you because I’m too attached. And you keep opening the door to me because you know what we have is real. We’re together, Amelia. From the first time you sat at that bar, we’ve been connected. I know you feel it too.”
He takes a step toward me, but I move away. I don’t want him near me, nor do I want his voice radiating through my body.
I put my hands over my ears. “I can’t listen to this.”
Jesse is an FBI agent, my father is in the mob, and a group of criminals want me to rig the lottery or else they’ll kill my family. What the hell one has to do with the other is beyond me. I’m afraid to find out. It’s too much for my head to process. Too much for my heart to handle.
I don’t want it to be true, and yet … the more Jesse talks, the more I learn, the more I admit to myself that it’s real.
I crouch down in tears because the weight of the situation is too much.
He kneels down in front of me and gently removes my hands from my ears. “Amelia, I need to know what that man told you tonight. I have to help you.”
“You? Of all people, I should never speak with you again. If the Lugazzis find out I told the police, they’ll know. I’m certain of it.”
“Then, don’t tell them. Tell me. It’s just me. Jesse.”
Wiping the tears from my face, I think of the hundred thousand reasons why Jesse Grant—no, Jesse Davenport—is the wrong man to talk to. For starters, he’s a liar and a spy.
I walk to the front door and briskly open it. My hand is shaking on the knob as I cry, staring back at his distressed stance, kneeling on the carpet and looking like someone atoning for his sins. I lose my will as I take in his fallen shoulders and curved brow. His chest rises with anxious breaths, which match my own.
I raise a finger, ready to tell him to get the hell out but I hesitate.
He saved my life.
Twice.
I should tell him to leave. My mouth opens to curse at him, to tell him to fuck off and be gone from my life forever, but it just trembles as I sob. My body remembers the way he pulled me to safety. My heart can still feel the way he held me. My head knows that without him, I’ll die.
I face him, the man who is consistently telling me how to stay safe.
He’s never tried to trap or hurt me.
He watches over me at night.
He listens.
He cares.
He’s here.
There’s something about the way he’s kneeling in my living room, pleading with me to talk to him. It’s breaking down my walls.
He’s trying to put my father away, but he doesn’t want us dead. I drop my hands in a dramatic fashion and close the door, conceding with myself that if I’m going to have someone on my side, it should be him. It’s a gamble. A life-or-death game, our Russian roulette. If I’m going to play the game, I want to be on Jesse’s team.
“I have been selected by DeLuca & Associates to be an outside auditor of the Mega State Jackpot this weekend,” I start.
He stands and waits for me to continue.
“I have to rig the game, and I don’t know how I’ll pull it off.” I walk around the living room as I run through the instructions I was given, retelling every detail, including the numbers and how I’ll remember them. I lean against the back