Page 29 of From the Shadows

The small sardonic laugh huffs from me. “I need more than that.”

“Tell me. I’ll make it happen.” His stare intensifies.

Jesus fuck, the truth is a dangerous thing. It’ll either earn me respect or get me terminated—permanently. “You can’t, Christophe. There’s no winning.” My shoulders tense with the weight of knowing I’m stuck. Knowing I’ve fucked over the only people I care about. “Are we done?”

“For now. Let me help, Eddie. No expense will be spared, just—fuck—let me in. You’re family. You know that.”

I don’t doubt that he believes what he’s saying, but this was never what I wanted. This is not the life I chose. It was handed down to me from my father with the risk factors well laid out. It doesn’t feel prudent to reiterate to the man who fought—and killed—for his place in this life that the only thing I want is to walk away from it with zero repercussions. I want to take my daughter with me and disappear. And take the quirky fucking bombshell he has burying all the bodies with me.

“Thank you for the offer. I’m going to grab Evie and make alternate provisions for her care. I cannot have her in the middle of this. I know you understand.” I revert to formalities and make my way back inside the mansion.

I need to find Jess. I need to beg her to free up her day to watch my daughter. To plead with her keep Evie sequestered away in the sweet little garden of her cottage, hidden and far from the insanity of the happenings in Cent Acres. Behind the stone walls.

Safe with someone who knows how to get rid of the bodies should anything happen.

Chapter 12

Tipping Point

EDDIE

As it turns out, finding Jess is a hell of a lot easier than getting hold of my nanny. Dicey as that’s been, it might just prove to be leagues easier than finding Evie’s mother. Amie has disappeared before, but this is pushing it even for her.

“Am I interrupting?” I ask the question out of some misguided sense of decorum. I couldn’t give a shit if I tried whether I’m butting in on her conversation with Teague.

He may be one of my best and only friends, but I have more important matters to deal with at the moment. And if I’m honest, I don’t love the casual familiarity he has with Jess. His close proximity leaning against the countertop is just a little too cozy for my liking.

Fine. It makes my blood boil, and the only thing keeping it from going nuclear is the fact that he is completely devoted to his new woman. I’m surprised he’s left her side for even a moment.

“Like that would stop you,” the asshole quips. “You find your daughter?”

Black hair flies out as Jess spins toward me, her brows pinching together in concern. “What’s Evie doing here? Is she okay?”

Before the words are fully out of her mouth, Jess is tugging at the sleeves of her coveralls, tied around her waist like she’s preparing herself to go to war. There is nothing more attractive to me than the way she jumps into action, ready to tear out of here, half-finished conversation still floating in the air. The way she puts Evie first. The way she’s rearranged her schedule to not just accommodate us, but to enjoy Evie, making sure she’s got everything she needs and most of what she wants.

Because I am completely aware of the fact that I did indeed interrupt.

This is what makes it at all tolerable to ask for help. And this is what solidifies who I ask it of.

On impulse alone, I reach out and wrap my hand around Jess’s arm, halting her before she storms through the mansion in search of Evie. “She’s okay, but she’s here. In the mansion.”

Her gaze stills on mine, the seriousness of the situation hitting her. And as it does, this tiny little thing seems to sink into her heels while simultaneously taking up more space than is physically possible.

God that’s sexy as shit.

Tone low and threatening, far from the tantalizingly flirty way she generally addresses me, she asks, “Why?”

Simple question, but such depth and complexity backing it.

“Chantal dropped her off.”

“Again?” Her gaze dips to my watch as I unbutton my cuffs and carefully roll the sleeves of my dress shirt to my elbows.

“Yeah. I’m, uh…shit. I hate to dump on you again, but⁠—”

“Of course I’ll watch her. You don’t ever need to ask, I’m always down to hang with my girl.” She lifts her chin ever so slightly or simply to be able to look me in the eye. “We can discuss compensation in private. Later.”

I don’t school my expression, nor do I manage to unglue my gaze from her perfect ass as she stalks out of the kitchen. None of that would be an issue if not for Teague.