Desperate to Touch

“You okay?” My friend’s tone is full of concern so I force a smile, ignoring the coldness that washes over me. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.”

“Love you,” I whisper when the chill comes back and I feel eyes on me once again, but I don’t dare look to my right, toward the window.

“I love you too,” Bethany tells me. My words weren’t meant just for her though.

Seth

Secrets get you killed in this business, but Laura doesn’t have a damn thing to do with them. No one needs to know anything more about her other than what they can discover on their own.

“Who is she?” Jase still isn’t letting up. He’s asked me twice already today. Irritation swells in my chest as I release a silent exhale and school my expression.

My gaze stays glued to the clock behind the bar and the checklist repeats in my mind. It’ll be different today with Laura.

I’ll approach the situation with control. She needs it, but I need it more.

Last night I wasn’t myself. Tonight, things will be different.

With the tick of another second gone by, I’ve forgotten all about Jase and his fucking prying.

“You don’t trust me?” he questions and an inkling of uneasiness creeps through me. The floor-to-ceiling windows in The Red Room offer little light as I grab my jacket. With rain threatening, the sky is darker than it should be for 3:00 p.m. The bar isn’t open yet and I don’t plan to be here when it does. When she has a day off, so do I. Simple as that.

I came for the meeting earlier, which is now over. All the men in charge of different operations were called to discuss the new developments overall. A management meeting, so to speak. Although the brothers never tell all of us everything. Trust and secrets go hand in hand.

The bar is quiet; it’s just Jase and me left on this floor.

Slipping on my jacket, I finally face Jase, my back to the front door.

“I don’t trust you?” I say, echoing his question back to him. Letting him see the ridiculousness of his statement. I don’t trust easily, but I trust Jase. In those meetings, I know all the players and the information that is shared. If any details are omitted, I know why. I’m part of the inner circle and clearly a trusted member of his team. So yes, I trust him.

“It’s hard to tell with you keeping secrets.” He’s pushing me, pressing me for information I’ve made clear I don’t want to give. Worse, he’s been digging for it anyhow.

“You know I trust you with my life,” I speak under my breath and with an edge of warning, hating that I have to say the words out loud.

“It’s not about that.”

“What’s it about then?”

“Secrets, Seth. It’s about the fact that you’re hiding something.”

“I have this… alert…” I start to tell him and then second-guess myself, but not for long. “When I moved out here, I had a friend set it up. I had to know who was looking into me. So any time someone searches for me, digs into my past… I get an alert.” I pause and note how quiet he is. “The searches were constant when I first started working with you. You know how it is. You need to know if someone’s looking into you and what for. Fuck, I know Declan has the same or something similar active on every single one of the names associated with your family.”

“Declan does?” Jase questions. He knows I’m close with his youngest brother. Closer to him than I am with any of the other Cross brothers. Jase narrows his eyes, like he hasn’t caught on yet.

“He has one for Bethany too.”

“When did he make one for Bethany?” he asks, truly unaware.

“I asked him to make one for her when you went to her house that first day.”

“That first day?”

Instead of answering his question, of telling him how much I had his back when it came to Bethany, I continue. “I made one for Laura too. I did it the second she left me. And I know you already know. I know when anyone’s looking into her. I know you know who she is.” I take a step forward, feeling the expensive suit jacket get tight around my shoulders. Cocking my brow and keeping the air between us as light as I can, I say, “So answer me this, who doesn’t trust who?”

Jase’s smirk is slow to form but it does, easily enough. The smirk and resistance for him to admit it bring that irritation back to the surface. I struggle to keep hold of my restraint. Maybe he can’t feel the rage that’s seeping into my remarks. I can though; the heat, the tightness in my chest. My jaw’s clenched when I tell him, “I’m aware you already know the answers you’re asking for. You’ve been looking into my background and then hers for weeks, yet you pretend like you don’t know who she is?”