Page 116 of Love is Angry

“Madison, if you do wish to live for at least another eighteen hours, you will shut up.” It’s a warning, and his voice is so low and cold that I can only take it seriously and keep my mouth shut before he slits my throat.

But I know the truth. It makes sense, and his visceral reaction confirms it.

Jake was once a ward of the state, left in the care of Father Flanagan. Just another child abuse scandal that plagued the Catholic Church some years ago. Allegations still come to the surface even now, long after Father Flanagan’s cancerous demise. Jake was a victim. I can almost imagine him as a teenager, trying to cope with what he’s been through. If he’s had some shitty foster parents on top of the perverted priest—yeah, I can see why Julian took a liking to him.

With the proper guidance from a sociopath like Mr. Echeveria, Jake could easily become a loyal and effective killing machine.

“I told Julian before that I wanted nothing to do with any of this,” I say. “Why won’t he just leave me alone?”

“Because you’ve got his son wrapped around your finger, and your stepmommy is a newshound.”

“I love Rhue. And I don’t have a stepmother.”

“That’s sweet and all, but Julian doesn’t give two shits about your feelings. He needs an heir, and… Laura… he doesn’t want Laura to take over.”

Jake pauses and takes a deep breath. I can see he’s thinking about her. Oh, dear. My mind is fired up like the engine of a roaring Lamborghini about to break the speed limit.Connections are made in the span of split-seconds. It’s amazing what one’s brain is capable of under extreme duress.

“Jake, are you sweet on Laura?” I ask.

The startled look on his face tells me I’ve hit a remarkably soft spot that even he wasn’t fully aware of. It’s an element of surprise that could work in my favor if I’m able to play my cards right.

“She’s just a child. She doesn’t need to be in Julian’s inner circle. That’s the place for monsters like me,” he mutters.

“Then, if Rhue does take over, it will be alright,” I say. “Therefore, you’re better off with me dead and out of Rhue’s life. Why are you wavering, then?”

“Because I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to kill anyone. Not anymore. Even today—I loathed every second of it!” he snaps, but he keeps stirring the spaghetti with an old wooden spoon.

My skin crawls as I understand the meaning of his words. “You killed someone today. That’s why you were out—doing Julian’s bidding. Jake, who did you take out?”

“I keep telling you to stop asking these questions, yet you persist. I’m starting to think you’re not as smart as I gave you credit for, after all.”

“Jake, I—I just want to go home.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while. By the time he comes back to the living room with a plate full of canned pasta, my stomach growls ferociously. There’s parmesan sprinkled on top, and I can’t help but appreciate the soft touch.

“Thank you,” I mumble and start eating, using both hands for one fork. The plate sits on the edge of the coffee table, uncomfortably low. It will have to do.

“Sibel,” Jake says, settling on the couch with a pasta serving of his own. He’s ravenous and nearly downs the whole thing in three bites.

“What?”

“Sibel Osman.”

“What about her?”

“Do you know who she was?” he asks, and I freeze, realizing his choice of past tense.

I nod slowly. “Roxanne’s PA. She’s the one you killed today?”

“I didn’t want to. I tried to convince Julian to spare her, but he’s in damage control mode. It’s the election in a few days. He’s desperate to get that council seat.”

“Why, though? I don’t understand. He’s got plenty of power lobbying directly in Washington. It doesn’t make sense, Jake. Help make it make sense.”

He sighs deeply. “Madison, he’s got his sights set on the White House, someday. It’s a game of power for Julian, and he won’t stop till he gets to the top.”

“Okay, so he’s in bed with the Mob?”

Jake laughs. Hard. I said something stupid, it seems.