e my eyes too, giving myself a few moments to soak it in before I have to do what needs to be done.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JAZZ
“God, I’m so excited for tomorrow.”
“Me too. I can’t wait to see the look on Belle’s face.”
I smile. “She’s going to be ecstatic. I know I said it before, but thank you so much for planning this. My mom and I always tried to separate Belle’s birthday from the holiday, and I was worried her dad wouldn’t do the same. Since this is her first birthday without our mom, I wanted it to be extra special. You really nailed it, Kingston. I seriously can’t think of anything more perfect.”
Kingston pulls me into a hug. “I imagine it’d be tough being a Christmas baby, especially when you’re younger, and that’s a holiday you celebrate. It’s easy to get lost in the mix.”
“Right.” I nod. “That’s why we always had a tradition of celebrating the holiday on Christmas Eve, and on Christmas Day, it was all about Belle.”
“I think it’s a great tradition.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’m happy to help keep it going.”
“How’s your hand?” I carefully lift his hand to inspect his knuckles. “It looks a little better.”
“It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. The ice helped with the swelling. Don’t let me forget to call someone to repair the tiles after we get back from Disney.”
“I won’t.” I shake my head, still a little shocked he punched the wall last night. “Have you heard anything from John yet?”
“The Escalade is no longer at Windsor, but that’s all we know so far.”
Apparently, after I fell asleep, Kingston called his PI to give him the scoop on everything that happened to me last night.
I take a seat on the nearby stool. “And John doesn’t think going to the police will help?”
“He thinks it’s better to leave them out of this, for now, considering the cover-up from your original attack.”
“Right. Who could forget about that?” I mutter.
Kingston stares at me thoughtfully. “Is that why you had a gun in your purse?”
Shit.
Wait... had a gun in my purse?
I glare. “Why were you snooping through my purse?”
“I wasn’t snooping through your purse,” he insists. “When I found it in that parking lot... I opened it to check the ID. To make sure it wasn’t someone else’s that looked like yours. Where the fuck did you get an unmarked gun anyway?” I see the moment it hits him. “Shawn. He gave it to you.”
“No, he didn’t give me a gun. I bought it from a friend of his.”
“Oh, that’s so much better.” Kingston gives me a wry look. “Why would you even want one?”
“Why do you think, Kingston? I want to feel safe.”
“And you think a gun will do that?”
“It’s better than nothing.” I shrug.
“Not if you don’t know how to shoot one,” he argues. “So... do you know how to shoot one?”
“Not exactly.”
He points an accusing finger at me. “And that’s exactly why it’s staying locked up in my safe.”