Page 161 of Always Love You More

He’s got two plates balanced in his hands, and two cans of Coke tucked under his arms.

I move up to my knees from my place on the bed and grab the plates, freeing his hands. There’s a turkey sandwich and chips on each plate, mine cut in half with an added few pieces of chocolate.

“Thanks,” I murmur as he slides in beside me.

“Course,” he answers, and I position the DVD player between us, hittingplay.

He relaxes next to me as we eat, his eyes fixed on the movie.

Once we’re finished, I stack the plates on the table next to us and curl into him, resting my head on his chest. He traces his fingers down my arm, and I eye his newly tattooed knuckles—the word “live” on this hand and “fast”on the other.

It seems like every few weeks, he’s getting a new piece, his body quickly becoming covered in them. Big Jim does them for free, and Jameson just keeps going back for more.

I’ve only added one since the loyalty tattoo, a piece for my brother. I got “Love you Bug,” in his handwriting down my arm,taken from the card he left me. Whenever I see the words, I think of him. How lucky I was to have him in my life.

Jameson shifts beside me. “You done watching?” he asks, motioning to the movie. “Ready to go to bed?”

“Yeah,” I answer, and he pushes the DVD player aside, folding his body around mine.

“Cathleen said she’d cover for me in the morning,” I tell him quietly. “So we can sleep in.”

He pulls me into him and lets out a long breath. “One day, I’ll have you next to me every night, and there’ll be no more of this sneaking around.” His warmth envelopes me, my back flush against his chest.

“I'd give anything for that,” I whisper.

Chapter 38

Jameson

I’vejustdroppedSamoff at the diner when my phone buzzes. I pull it from my back pocket and answer Marcus’s incoming call.

His voice crackles over the line, the connection weak. “I don’t like waiting.”

Glancing at the clock, I confirm that I’m already ten minutes late. “I’m almost there.”

He grunts, and I know I’ve pissed him off. I wait for him to lay into me, but the line just goes dead.

Since my old man’s been gone, Marcus has taken over most of what he’s built. The guys who were loyal to my father shifted that loyalty to him.

I resisted getting back into it for as long as I could but, eventually, the need for cash won out. I called Marcus up, and he was more than happy to put me to work.

Still, I have my limits. Lines that I won’t cross.

Or, at least, I hope I won’t.

I know how much this life chips away at your moral compass. How it can turn you into a person you never thought you’d be. But it’s not just me I’m thinking about. It’s Sam. I can’t be another person she loses.

Gravel crunches under my tires as I pull around the back of an abandoned warehouse. Half the windows are smashed, the other half boarded up, and graffiti litters the stained brick walls.

Luke refused to let Marcus operate out of the garage, so this is our new spot.

I cut the engine and reach into the glove box, retrieving the envelope of cash I stashed there this morning, then step out of the car, sliding it into my back pocket.

Walking up to the warehouse, I check for my gun, reassuring myself that it’s tucked in place.

If my old man taught me one thing, it’s that you never know what kind of shit you’re walking into. Just because you think something is going to go one way, doesn’t mean it can’t go south fast.

I stop at the old wood door, knocking in a pattern of threes before it’s pulled open. A gun is pointed at my head before it’s lowered.