Under My Skin (Stark International Trilogy 3)

“The one who owns Lost Tides and dragged Trent into the whole mess? Would I have loved to be a fly on the wall during that conversation?”

“I know, right?”

“Is Damien making him shut down Lost Tides?”

I shake my head. “Nope. He said he’d let the market decide—which is fine by me, because Cortez is going to kick serious butt. But he also said that if he catches even a whiff of more dirty tricks, he’ll string Calloway up by his balls. And that’s pretty much a direct quote.”

“And Damien could manage it, too,” Cass says. “Calloway must be pissing himself.”

“I hope so. The one I feel bad for is Rachel. She really liked Trent, and now she’s pretty much destroyed. I called and told her everything last night. I didn’t want her to come in and get slammed with gossip unprepared.” I make a face. “She’s taking the day off.”

“So your good deed landed you more extra work?”

I nod. “But that’s okay. The busier I am, the less time I have for worrying.”

“And Jackson?”

I crumple the bag from my croissant, then hold my coffee in both hands, wanting the warmth. “He’s worrying enough for the both of us.”

“About what Evelyn told you about the movie?”

“About everything,” I say. “But the movie’s got the big neon sign over it at the moment. It’s like he’s having to deal with all of the hell of being a suspect, but the upside was that at least the blackmail threat was gone and the movie was a bust.”

“And now he’s still a suspect and the movie may actually happen, so it’s like fate just kicked him in the balls?”

“That’s about it,” I admit. On the whole, I think he handled the news pretty well. We’d actually gone to my apartment last night, then spent the evening walking the Third Street Promenade and then all the way down to the pier. After that, we’d watched late night television in bed and fallen asleep in each other’s arms. On the one hand, it had felt nice to just be together. But that niceness was colored by worry and frustration.

“I just want a reality that isn’t full of drama and uncertainty.” I sound whiney and mopey, but since I’m only talking to Cass, I don’t need to try and put on a good face.

Cass puts her arm around me, and I lean against her. “I know you do. You’ll get it.”

She says the words firmly, but I don’t believe her. Every day, I’m getting more and more scared. Because every day seems to prove the adage that the good never lasts. It just gets swept away with the drama.

Hell, wasn’t that the story of my life? My childhood destroyed by my father.

My romance with Jackson interrupted by my own horrible nightmares.

And now every time we take a step forward in our relationship, we’re slapped back. Sabotage. Murder. Even the little victories get ruined. Like yesterday. We solved the riddle of the sabotage, only to learn that the damn movie was barreling down on us all over again.

And what really scares me is the pattern. Because if the good is always followed by the bad, then doesn’t that mean that I’ll inevitably lose Jackson? Either because he ends up behind bars? Or, god forbid, because we just can’t make it work?

I pick at the label on my coffee, frowning. “There’s more,” I say. “About Ronnie, I mean.”

Cass, who knows me well enough to understand that I’ve got something major on my mind, turns to face me directly. “I’m listening.”

I lick my lips. “Jackson wants me to be Ronnie’s guardian if he goes to jail.”

“Whoa,” Cass says. “I’m not surprised, though. I mean, he loves you. Who else would he want his daughter to be with?”

“I know. Believe me, I get that. But—”

“But you’re scared.”

“Fucking terrified,” I admit.

“Don’t be. He’s not going to jail.”

I make a face. Considering everything that’s happened recently, that kind of optimism is nothing more than a platitude.

“And if he does, I think it’s great that she’ll be with you. You’ll do awesome, Syl. I know you, remember? And I know what you’re capable of.”

Her words are encouraging, and I cling to them like a lifeline. Cass had a great relationship with her dad, and I know that she believes that I can do this, and her faith warms me up from the inside. But that warmth doesn’t burn away my doubt.

Cass is watching me closely. “You don’t have to be someone else, you know.”

I frown. “I don’t know what you mean.”