The Lover's Surrender (No Exceptions) (11 page)

I took a
seat in a nearby chair, hesitating. When I finally mustered up enough courage,
I opened the letter and skimmed the text.

When I see her, I wonder does she still think
of me?

Last time, she walked away and I waited for
her.

Oh boy, this time there is no stopping.

One bird caged, one free,

But all good things are three.

Fly, birdy, fly.

Tomorrow’s soon here.

With your brooken wings under the starry sky

I kiss you good night

For tomorrow is soon here and I’ll be there

I read it
again and again, while anger, fear, and confusion washed over me in thick
cascades.

The poem
wasn’t just a message.

It was a
threat.

In my head,
it had become a sick melody that seemed oddly familiar, warning me to run.

I felt like
a bird, like when Nate had held me a prisoner. Like Gina must have felt when
she was captured. She had died, and there was no doubt that I might be
next—or why else would someone spell the word “broken” with two oo’s,
just like my name? Whoever wrote the poem had done it on purpose. I was sure of
that.

I swallowed
to get rid of the lump rising in my throat, not for the first time wondering if
I would ever feel safe again.

I turned to
regard Jett.

He was
awfully silent, his gaze avoiding me.

“He used
the same words,” I said, then went on to recall the night with Jett’s brother.
“Nate promised that he’d be waiting for me.”

Jett’s hand
encircled mine, and ever so softly, he pulled the letter out of my tight grip.

“It doesn’t
matter, Brooke,” he whispered, crumpling it into a tight ball. “He can’t hurt
you. I would never let anyone, anything, come between us. Do you hear me? I
won’t let anybody hurt you. Before they get to you, they’ll have to make it
past me.”

“I know,
but what about
you
?” My gaze met his
beautiful green eyes now shadowed with worry. “Your brother hates you. I know
he does. He told me you would shoot me and then kill yourself.”

“That’s
ridiculous.”

“Not when
it was his plan to make it look that way.” I pointed to the crumpled paper on
the floor. “This is personal, Jett. Things could get a lot worse, and I can’t
protect you.”

“Nothing
will happen. I’m strong enough to defend myself,” he said. “Come on, baby. You
know I would kick his ass. And I have good aim. If he so much as takes a wrong
step, he’s dead.”

I smiled at
Jett’s bad attempt at infusing humor into the situation, but inside I didn’t
feel like laughing.

Nate had
gone to great lengths to fool his brother. What were the chances he would try
again?

Everything
spoke for it.

“That’s not
what I meant.” I shook my head, eyes wide, as I struggled for words. “Someone
has every intention of framing you for a crime you didn’t commit, Jett. Someone
orchestrated a good plan, probably plotting for a long time.” I pointed at the
paper again. “This letter is not a coincidence. It’s all part of that plan.
Your brother’s trying to separate us, take you away from me. I know he wants
that, because he tried it once, and he’ll do it again.”

“I won’t
let anybody, not even my brother, separate us.” Jett seemed unfazed by my
words. The fact that he wasn’t taking my concerns seriously angered me.

I shook my
head again, the desperation in my voice leaving a bitter taste on my lips. “You
don’t understand. Maybe you won’t have a choice.”

His eyes
narrowed to slits, and his posture stiffened even more—the only sign that
he wasn’t as confident as he tried to appear. When he spoke again, anger had
crept into his tone. “Over my dead body, Brooke. I told you.”

 
“The cops searched your place, Jett.” I
cleared my voice to stop it from shaking as I remembered the morning but failed
miserably. “I took whatever I could, but what if the murder weapon was there
and I didn’t see it? That could happen, right? What if it’s too late, and
they’re convinced you’re guilty? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Jett
kneeled and placed his hand at the back of my head, pulling me against his
chest. “Baby, stop worrying about me,” he said, his tone soothing. “I can take
care of myself. I have friends who take care of me. And you. We’re not alone in
this.” He touched my womb, more purposefully than intuitively, reminding me of
my condition and the need to stay calm—for our daughter’s sake.

“But if
there’s a trial—” I started again, unable to stop the tear running down my
cheek.

“There
won’t be one.” He shook his head vehemently, his determination forcing me to
look up, to believe him. “They can accuse me all they want, but they can’t
prove I’m responsible for the murder. I didn’t kill Gina, so whoever’s planning
this would have to produce real evidence that could hold up in court. As things
stand, my team of lawyers would shred their charges to bits.”

Emphasis on
‘team of lawyers.’

The
realization that Jett wasn’t just anyone made me feel a bit better.

Jett cupped
my face and forced my chin up until I had to face him. “I promise I’ll get us
out of this fucking mess. I also promise that, if it’s his fault, I won’t let
my brother get away with this.”

His voice
was composed, eerily so, but his expression made me flinch. He had never looked
so serious.

I frowned.
“I don’t want you to do anything stupid, Jett.”

“I won’t, ”
he said. For a second, I felt relieved, until I noticed that his expression
carried more determination. His jaw stiffened, and there was no doubt that the
anger from before had turned into fury at some point.

When he
spoke again, the tone of his voice sent a chill up my spine. “I won’t give up,
and particularly not when it’s about you, Brooke. When it comes down to it,
I’ll stand and fight. I’ll find a way, because there’s no way in hell I’ll give
up my life. And you’re my life, Brooke. Whoever’s messing with you, I’m going
to kill him. I promise I’ll make him pay someday.”

“No,” I
whispered. “No. Promise me, Jett, that you won’t do anything that could get you
in trouble.”

He turned
away. “I can’t,” he whispered. “That’s the one promise I’ll never make to you.
I promised myself a long time ago that he’d pay the price. I won’t back down on
my word.”

Barely
thirty minutes had passed when we reached the gang’s place. As soon as we
parked the car in the garage, Jett killed the engine. I expected him to head
straight inside, but instead he turned to face me, his hand wrapping around
mine, the gesture both determined and strangely imploring, as though he was
trying his best to avoid a fight but couldn’t shift his position.

“Your
keys,” he demanded.

I fished
them out of my bag again and handed them to him. Our fingers touched, and a
spark ran up my arm. Under any other circumstances, I would have welcomed it.
Now, with Jett absentminded, it felt like enjoying time with him was too much
to ask for. He had read the letter, and his already bad mood had now plummeted
to something much worse. Whether it could be attributed to the poem or our earlier
conversation about his brother, I couldn’t tell, but the fact that he was
unreachable remained.

Distant.

Secretive.

Lost in his
own world.

I hated
when he was like that. His stance reminded me of a statue he might turn into
any time.

Or worse
yet, he might be hatching a plan without involving me.

“So, what
are we going to do?” I asked carefully when he made no move to get out of the
car. Our eyes locked ever so shortly, before he turned away to gaze out the
window. The garage was empty, the silence oppressing.

“There’s
this big charity fashion show today,“ Jett said quietly. “I think we should
attend, keep up the appearance, let us be seen, and proceed as if nothing’s
wrong.”

I let the
thought sink in for a moment.

Attend a
charity event?

I could do
that, but what about the cops? Maybe whoever was trying to frame Jett had
tipped them off. What if they were looking for him? My pulse spiked as I
thought of his apartment and the state I had found it in.

“Is it
really a good idea?” I asked.

“Our
options are limited.”

He was
right, of course.

Hiding
would only make things worse.

“What about
Gina?” I asked casually. “What will we do with her stuff?”

“We’ll get
rid of it.”

My head
snapped toward him in shock. “You want to—” I broke off, lost for words.

“We’ll burn
everything,” Jett said coolly.

My jaw
dropped open. An icy sensation rose through me.

“Burn the
evidence?” I choked on my words, the blood rushing from my veins hard and fast.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Jett.”

“Do you
have a better idea?” He cast me a sideways glance as he flipped the keys in his
hand. “Because if you do, I’m dying to hear it.” His cold response rendered me
silent.

Holy cow.

Forget the
part about me not wanting him to be angry. His wrath was much better than the
calculated and stony air about him.

I bit my
lip, my thoughts racing.

Did I have
a better idea?

Not really,
but burning the only evidence sure didn’t sound like something any human in
their right mind would do.

“Jett,” I
said carefully. “Your plan’s crazy. It’s not just Gina’s stuff we’re talking
about. Whatever’s in that bag could be real evidence for whoever killed her.
There’s a necklace that was soaked in blood. That’s hardcore evidence, if you
ask me.”

He stared
at me, taking in my words for a few seconds. “Did you take it?” he asked
quietly.

“Huh?” I
threw up my hands. “Of course I did.’”

His
eyebrows rose in question. “Did you find anything else that was soaked in
blood?”

“No.” I
sighed. “Just the necklace. No sight of the murder weapon. But still. I think
we should hide everything until we know for sure what’s going on. For all we
know, we might need it later, and the actual killer could be brought to
justice.”

“No.”

His harsh
tone of voice shocked me. I inhaled a sharp breath, taken aback. “No?”

“No,” Jett
replied again, his voice colder than before. “I don’t see the point in hiding
it.”

I paused as
I considered my next option. “What if we ask Sam to run a few tests and see if
something comes up before we do it?”

“Find out
what? That it was her blood?” Jett’s face remained cold as his next reply
slashed at me. “We would be wasting everyone’s time because there are not going
to be any clues.”

“How do you
know?” I retorted, suddenly angry.

“I just
do.” He paused, keeping the rest unsaid. When he spoke again, I felt scolded.
“In all seriousness, I don’t think we’d discover any fingerprints. If any were
left, her stuff would never have been at my place in the first place. Don’t you
think?”

I shut up,
but only for a moment.

“Maybe so,
but what if there are?” I leaned forward, suddenly more eager to stand my
ground. “Think about it, Jett. What if we’ll need it later?”

“Later? As
in, if there’s a trial?” Jett’s face distorted into anger, and my heart gave
another almighty thud. “Fuck, Brooke. How often have I told you there won’t be
one? Anything else is not an option.”

I remained
silent, struck speechless by his anger. When he resumed the conversation, there
was a sudden bitter twist in his voice. “We’ll burn everything. Full stop.”

“But…” I
bit my lip hard.

“If you
keep doubting it, by all means ask Sam to test the necklace, but you’ll see
it’s just a waste of time. If the cops come knocking in the meantime, we’ll
have a problem.”

“That’s the
other thing I wanted to talk to you about. Maybe we should see a lawyer first,”
I suggested.

“A lawyer?
You think a lawyer will help?” He laughed darkly as his eyes met mine. “You’re
so naïve, girl. An attorney’s first priority is to make money out of any case.
In my case, that would be representing me as long as possible in a drawn-out
murder case that spans months, if not years.” He shook his head, his lips
tight. “No, we have to destroy it. Burn it and don’t involve anyone else. If
nothing’s found, they can’t prove it ever existed. No evidence equals no proof.
The last thing my company needs is another big headline or a lawyer who sees an
opportunity to supplement his bank account.”

He had a
good point.

But he was
still a dick for calling me ‘naïve’ and ‘girl,’ especially in that demeaning
tone of his. I was an adult woman expecting her first child. No way would I
keep my mouth shut about his attitude.

“No need to
be a jerk, Jett. I was just trying to help you,” I said and watched him get out
of the car. He took his time reaching my side. When he opened my door, an
amused expression had lit up his face.

“Did you
just call me a ‘jerk’?” he asked. His cold tone had softened a little.

“Yeah, I
did. So what?” I got out and slammed the door. “Excuse me for saying this, but
you can be so narrow-minded at times. Burn the evidence all you want. If you
make a mistake, it will be all yours.”

As I tried
to walk past, he stopped me. I glanced at his hand on my arm and heaved a sigh.
“What?”

“Thank
you.”

His words
took me by surprise.

Frowning, I
looked all the way up to face him. He let go of my arm.

“Say that
again,” I said, confused.

“Thank
you,” he repeated. Slowly but unmistakably, his lips curled into his usual
panty-melting smile.

The kind of
smile that should have been forbidden.

The kind of
smile that turned anger to lust and made me want to do anything for him.

To give in
so easily felt wrong, and yet my heart gave a knowing jolt.

Weak, Stewart. Weak. That’s how bad you’re in
love with him.

I crossed
my arms over my chest to protect me from his sinful smile and stepped back.
“Rein in that ego of yours, Jett. It wasn’t a compliment.”

“It was to
me, coming from a beautiful, stubborn woman with her own mind like you.” His
grin widened, exposing perfect white teeth.

I stared at
him, confused by his sudden change of mood. Barely a minute ago, Jett had been
angry, and now, it was as if his irritation had evaporated, which was
impossible.

I concluded
that his perfect smile could only be forced.

“What?”
Jett asked, probably reading the puzzlement written all over my face. Usually,
I was kind of an open book.

I shook my
head. “Is this fake?”

“What?” He
asked, cocking one sexy eyebrow.

“Your
smile.”

“This?” He
pointed his hand at his lips. “I’ll let you decide what to make of it.”

Before I
knew it, he’d inched closer, and, without warning, he cupped my face in his big
hands, his lips crushing mine in a heated kiss.

When his
tongue slipped into my mouth, I could have rejoiced, happy to escape our
problems for a change, happy to oblige.

His lips
were warm, inviting, and yet unexpected. They were like an ambush of the good
kind, washing away my annoyance with him. The ice I had felt before crumbled
under the weight of heat. His kiss, like lava, burned through my very soul. My
arms went around his waist, eager for more.

So, when he
stopped, his kiss left behind confusion and emptiness.

“That’s not
fair.” I stared at him, tracing my fingers over my tingling lips. “You kissed
me.”

“Yeah. I
did. So what?” He grinned as he leaned forward, a hand on each side of me,
trapping me between his strong, sexy arms and Kenny’s car, a mischievous grin
on his face. “You don’t know how cute you are when you’re angry.”

I shook my
head, suddenly annoyed with his game. “And you don’t know how close I am to
kicking your ass for being an ass.”

“You know
what? I would love for you to try that.” His eyes twinkled, his voice hoarse.
“Wanna see how far that gets you?”

I eyed him,
more puzzled than doubtful that he had uttered a threat.

It didn’t
make any sense.

Was he
wearing a mask?

“I don’t
understand, “ I said, deciding that any attempt to figure him out on my own
would be a waste of time. “I thought you were angry. You sure looked angry to
me.”

I sort of
expected him to deny it. Instead, he softly cupped my face again, forcing me to
meet his gaze. Thinking he was about to kiss me again, I held my breath when he
explained, “I was angry, but my anger was never addressed at you, Brooke.” He
wet his lips, his face tensing abruptly. “I’m angry with my brother for causing
trouble when it should be over. I’m angry with myself for putting up with him
for so long. I’m angry that we can’t enjoy our first pregnancy and what should
be a wonderful time, and not being able to spend every fucking minute with you.
There are so many hindrances—none of which I can resolve right now. But
most of all, I can see that you’re scared, and that makes me want to beat up
that motherfucker. The fact that I can’t right now, that I’m stuck in limbo,
makes me want to break a few rules just to get to him and force him to pay the
price.”

“Jett.” I
touched his arm, my fingers gently trailing up his hard muscles. “Right now,
I’m happy that we’re safe. That’s all that matters. You and me and our baby. As
long as they keep him under surveillance, Nate can’t get to us.”

“You’re
right.” He cradled me against his chest, his muscles still tense—the only
indication that he was in turmoil. “I overreacted. If it makes you feel any
better, I’ll have Sam test the necklace.”

“Jett…” I
trailed off, unsure of the right thing to say.

“Don’t say
anything. Just think about it. I’ll leave the decision up to you. After all,
like you said, we’re in this together, and it was about time you shared my
burden, right?”

I grinned
at him. “That’s right.”

We smiled
at each other, caught in a moment of closeness that didn’t need words and
reassurances. Jett’s soft lips curled up into another sexy, wicked grin.