as if Cole and the guys who work for him don’t know where we live, but we also don’t want anyone getting through either. “Now you understand how fucked up Stone and his father’s relationship is.”
I lean back against the seat, detesting that I feel sorry for Stone Jacobs. Truthfully, I’m not that great of a person because the constant whiplash of feelings I get concerning Stone is alarming. I simultaneously want to choke him and hug his loneliness away. Every once in a while, one feeling wins out over the other, even when I should be feeling the opposite.
Life was easier when I hated him from afar.
9
I hold the safe tight to my chest as Lucas and I return back to the house. Wyatt is sleeping on the expensive white couch, and I spy Stone out on the pool patio, a plastic tub of my father’s papers near his side.
Lucas nudges me. “If you want to head out there, I’ll get Wyatt up and moving.”
I slide him a look because I know damn well he only wants me to make up with Stone after our conversation this morning.
The backdrop of the Superstitions calls me out anyway. It’s the perfect place to discuss the treasure.
Stone glances over his shoulder as I open the sliding doors. His stare immediately drops to what’s in my hand, and the same awed look crosses his features that came over Lucas when I first pulled it out. I press my lips together, unable to tamp down the warmth that those expressions give me. It brings a whole new light to the Jacobses. Well, at least to this trio of guys. I’m not about to extend that feeling to Lance because the only reason he wants the treasure is for greed.
And he just happened to get involved with someone who might be greedier than him. If not greedier, certainly more criminal.
Stone sets my father’s papers aside and scoots to the edge of the half-moon bed. “Is that what I think it is?”
I stand in front of him, wearing my own childish grin, but beyond that, there’s something more we’re sharing in this moment.
It’s been years since I’ve seen what’s in this canister. It holds our most coveted secrets, bar the one that’s in my head. Together, we might be able to crack where the Wilder treasure is. The possibilities hanging in the air are dreamed by both of us. Our paths have crossed, our goals aligned. There’s some deeper confusion going on with Stone Jacobs, but in this moment, we can agree on one thing: The hunt is on.
“I hid it in the library.” He lifts his wide eyes to meet mine, his lips gently parted. “We’ll have to find a new hiding spot now...when we’re done going through it.” He stands, and I inch back. “I understand your hesitation with my family, and I’m sorry my father fucked up what little trust we had going on before, but I fucking promise you, Dakota Wilder, I won’t do anything to hurt that trust. What’s happened is in the past.”
“I hope so,” I tell him. When I shot his father, a piece of me thought that he would never be able to forgive me. Not that I was concerned about that in the moment because, for all I knew, he’d given my secrets up. Now, I don’t think he did. Stone’s problem is that his father is a dick, and he was raised to be one, too.
The glass doors open again. Wyatt slowly hobbles out onto the patio, grimacing with the full force of the sun shining down on him. Lucas helps him get to the stone patio table where I set the safe in the center and take a seat along with the rest of the guys.
Wyatt whistles. “Your family secrets are in that piece of shit?”
I laugh, but I manage to get out a “Fuck off, Longhorn” all the same. The rest did him well—some of his natural coloring is coming back to his face. Of course, I barely look at that because the boy is shirtless again. Being shirtless and wearing a cowboy hat should be freaking illegal.
Lucas nudges me with his leg.
“Oh, right,” I say. I hold up a finger. “One more thing. I’ll be right back.” I head inside, running to my room to grab the key I’d hidden behind the nightstand. When I return, I flash the small yet important piece of metal at them. “We’re going to need this.” The