Page 56 of From the Shadows

I read the email three fucking times before I can make the words make sense. Because is reads like she no longer works for me. Like I let her go.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

“You okay over here under your little gloomy cloud?” Jess stands just to my right, her voice low and holding only a hint of her usual teasing. “You look like you got caught in the rain with nothing but your legal briefs.”

A laugh huffs from me, short and not at all happy. “Not even a little bit.”

“What’s the sitch?”

I shake my head and sigh, unsure where to even begin with the way my life is swirling around the toilet.

“Oh, don’t tease me like that, Eddie. You rolled out of my bed in the middle of the night, and now you’re sharing your slutty little sighs with the rest of the world? That’s just playing dirty.”

And just like that the chatter in the room silences.

Teague is the first to break. “Edmond Emile Yore, you’ve been keeping secrets,” he announces like he’s shocked he wasn’t part of the union. “And you’re giving the D to our sweet cleaner.” He winks at Jess like that feigned shock is all bullshit.

I grit out, “Stop.”

“Really? Oh my God, I love this for you guys. How long have you been together?” Winnie adds with none of the frat-boy shit Teague slings around. Just genuine happiness.

There’s a pause. More of a semicolon as opposed to a comma, and I never imagined punctuation being so thoroughly uncomfortable.

Jess waves off both comments, her hand flipping dismissively. “We’re not. It’s nothing, just a convenience when I was helping out with Evie.” She grabs the sleeves of her coveralls, tied around her waist, and give them a firm tug. Like she’s shoring herself up, protecting herself. “I’m going to bounce. Let me know when you’re ready for me,” she offers to Christophe and then turns and walks away.

I feel the yawning distance almost as sharply as her words. Jess was never simply a convenience—anything but. I rolled into her life like a storm cloud with favor after favor I had no right asking of her. She saved my ass, treated my daughter like her own, and… And I shit all over that.

“Fuck.” I stare after her retreating form, my phone in hand with an email that desperately needs to be addressed and my heart threatening to fall out of my ass. I don’t know which way to turn, where to go, or what to take care of first.

How can I run after Jess and tell her she’s wrong when, in my next breath I’m going to have to beg her to take care of Evie for me. And Jesus, I need to get Evie back and under stable care so I can terminate Amie’s rights. None of which is possible without straightening shit out with Chantal. The list isn’t long, but each feeds the next until circling back on itself and feeding into the first.

I have a literal ouroboros of problems.

“When you’re done with your crisis over there, can we knock a few things out so you can go fix that shit?” Christophe asks.

“I’m not having a fucking crisis.”

His eyebrows reach for his hairline. “Maybe you should be. Let’s hit this hard, get people in place so we can all worship our women the way they deserve. Chantal is back, I assume. Since neither you nor Jess have Evie… Have her watch the baby. Take Jess out and make things right.”

“Grovel if you have to,” Teague adds.

Every word out of their mouths darkens my mood.

“No,” I mumble.

“No?”

Winnie shushes her husband and comes to sit in the chair next to me. “No to Jess or to groveling? You don’t really have to go through all that, but I think you have some things to clear up with her. That didn’t feel like nothing.”

I slouch back in my leather club chair, wishing for the whiskey decanter that’s noticeably absent from the corner of the desk. I’d choke it down neat right now before pouring myself another. “Where’s Garrick?”

“Sir?” The man himself appears at the door.

“I need a drink.”

He looks to Christophe for a nod of approval before taking his leave.

Christophe’s focus is heavy on me. “You really think that’s what you need?”