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Sadie's Game (Ashby Crime Family)

Page 37

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Kat snorted a laugh at Cal’s words, chin notched high in the air and an arrogant smile on her face. “It’s the cop’s job to prove we were where we say we were, not ours.”

A hint of a smile passed my lips at my daughter’s arrogance. She was right that I’d given her a life that meant she didn’t have to see ghosts around every corner, but sometimes she could be woefully out of touch.

I was about to tell her as much when Vanessa’s own derisive laughter interrupted this meeting.

“Don’t be naïve, Kat. If we don’t have our stories airtight, with indisputable proof, that pit bull, Beck, will keep finding reasons to come after us. And especially Sadie. If we can cut her off before she digs too deep, we should.”

The table fell silent, gazes all focused on the pretty brunette who had made quite the transformation over the past few months. “She’s right,” Jasper grunted.

Terry laughed. “And just how in the hell do you know all this? Because I gotta say, Vanessa, you sound like a damn lawyer.”

Pink colored the widow’s cheeks, and she reached for Emmett’s hand in a show of support.

“Spend your nights listening to rich people who love to give advice, she said, “and you’ll learn a lot about how the world works.” She shrugged. “Sadie is rich and has people who can do this type of stuff. It’s how rich people stay out of jail, by being ahead of the cops.” Her hand shook, a sign she was still the same shy military wife she was when Lance died, but she took the tumbler of whiskey Thomas had poured for each of us and sucked it down like a pro.

Like an Ashby.

“Fine,” Kat conceded with a sigh. She wasn’t happy to be upstaged, but she couldn’t deny the logic Vanessa presented. “Nessa is right. We’ll do things your way, Jas.”

Jasper let out a huff of amused laughter and shook his head as he took a seat at the other end of the table, opposite to me. “As if there was ever any doubt.”

Kat folded her arms like a petulant child and glared at her brother. “Asshole,” she said, needing to have the last word.

“We don’t have time for this shit, Kat. This is serious.”

“I know that,” she shot back angrily, face getting redder by the second.

“I know,” Jasper sighed. “This is taking the focus off your wedding day, which sucks, but it would also suck if Ma was behind bars when the big day rolls around.”

His words had the desired effect, taking all the steam out of Kat’s argument. “Okay,” she said on a sigh. Her tone was more conciliatory this time.

Jasper sat up taller in his seat. “It’s time, past time, for us to discuss other matters.” The way his gaze never left mine told me exactly what my eldest son thought we needed to discuss.

I shook my head immediately. That was my business to tell if and when I saw fit. “That’s not a matter up for family discussion, Jasper.”

“It is now,” he shot back, his voice a low, almost menacing growl.

I kept shaking my head. My hands vibrated, and my heart pounded against my chest so hard I thought I might crack a rib. I couldn’t talk about it. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“No, Jasper. I can’t. I won’t.”

My children, the ones I gave birth to and the ones I took on over the years, didn’t need to know that part of me.

The only reason Jasper knew was because he needed to know. He was my unofficial guardian angel and the technical head of this family, so he needed to know. It was his job to look after the family, to protect the family name and family business.

“Jasper,” I begged.

His tone softened, and he let out a low sigh. “Ma, it’s time.”

Part of me knew he was right, but I was a fucking expert at shoving down the parts of me I didn’t want to think about, didn’t want to deal with. An archaeologist would have a field day with all the shit I’d buried deep. Then, my old, familiar friend, anger, took over, and I smacked both of my shaking hands on the table.

“Everyone. Out.” My gaze never left Jasper’s. He reached for the decanter in the middle of the table and poured half a glass of Velvet Fire.

Everyone stood, almost in unison, and filed out of the dining room with drinks in hand.

Only Jasper and I were left. He stood and rounded the long table to pour me another drink.

“More,” I told him, and he filled it to the top before he took his seat again, leaving a wide expanse of table between us.

“Well?”

“Goddammit, Jasper, it’s time to talk about this when I say it’s time. It’s my secret, mine, and I’ll tell it if and when I feel ready.”



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