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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

JASPER

My night just got a hell of a lot better now that we get to have some fun with Wayne. Don't get me wrong—the night's been fantastic already with Falin in that curve-hugging dress, letting me touch her and play with her until she squirms. All that and the promise of her kicking my ass again, it’s enough to make me bite back a moan.

Now it’s time to do what I do best—Well, other than fucking. Wayne will not be getting fucked by me. I need to make that clear.

We found the office easily, thanks to Fairfax’s lackey. I almost wish he gave me more of a challenge, but the night is still young. He’s flat on his back on the floor, my foot holding him down, hands tied in front of him with my tie. Oh, and I can’t forget the gun that I have pointed at his face.

“Whff duh yuh wahn fruh meh?” Wayne mumbles around the makeshift gag I made from my sweaty dress sock.

“What was that, Wayne? Can’t quite understand you.” I chuckle. Man, this is fun.

““Ffuhk, whuh duh yuh—” I shift my weight forward and his words are cut off with a groan.

“I think you know the answer. And let me tell you, Wayne. I’m great at getting what I want.” My eyes find Falin across the room and linger. She looks up from the computer, like she can feel my gaze.

“Anything?” I ask, ignoring Wayne’s grumbles.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, but I’m copying everything onto a drive. Should be done soon.” She clicks a few times and straightens out. “It’s doing its thing.”

“I’ve got him. Why don’t you search around? Fairfax must have been talking about something tangible when he sent his little manservant in here.” At that, Wayne tries to thrash around—emphasis on try . Poor dude, I almost feel bad for how weak and pathetic he is. I kick him again and smile. Almost, but not really.

“Did you see these photos? They look like the perfect suburban family.” She glides her finger over a framed family portrait on the wall. It must be our distinguished hosts—nice to see them without the masks—and two kids, a boy and a girl, both elementary school age.

“Just goes to show that looks can be deceiving.” I bend down and stuff the sock farther into Wayne’s mouth. Hopefully Falin finds some useful information, or I’ll have to try and get something out of him the hard way.

“That’s the truth,” she says as she stares at another family photo of the four of them on a sailboat. “What about your family? Were looks deceiving?”

I grab Wayne by his bound wrists and drag him toward Falin, getting a better look at the photo that’s caught her attention. “Before or after Bailey was taken?”

My throat goes dry as I say Bailey’s name. It shouldn’t be that way. She’s my baby sister—talking about her should come as easily as anything else, but after all this time, saying her name out loud brings a visceral reaction.

“I’m sorry. That was a stupid fucking question.” Falin sucks in a breath and moves on to the built-in bookshelves, pulling out leather bound volumes and searching the pages.

“No, it’s okay. Honestly, it feels good to say her name.” I drag Wayne toward the plush armchair near the bookshelves so I can sit while I keep a foot on his torso and my gun trained on his head. “Is it crazy to say that I grew up pretty normal? Little league and Boy Scouts, summer barbeques, fishing and hiking with my dad. Bailey and Mom had always been super close, but we all made it a point to have dinner together most nights. Then when I met Damon, we basically took him in. My parents didn’t hesitate. We were never rich by any means, but they did okay enough to send me and Bailey to college with the help of some scholarships and loans.”

She looks up from the legal pad she’s skimming. “That sounds pretty normal to me.” Her small laugh lights up my chest. “Especially for a guy who’s currently pointing a gun at someone.”

The irony didn’t go unnoticed.

“Yeah, well, normal can change in the blink of an eye.” I try to hide the sadness in my tone, but it’s pretty damn clear. “When Bailey was taken, everything fell apart.”

“I can’t even imagine the pain you’ve all gone through. To lose someone like that, not knowing if she’s… Shit, here I go again. I’m not the best at these types of conversations.”

Dead or alive.

Those were the words she was about to say. She’s right, not knowing is the hardest part of all. The guilt that I’ll never do enough to find her. It eats me up from the inside like a disease.

“What about you? Did Trouble have a normal childhood with her family of cops?”

She heads back to the desk, opening drawers and digging through them. “You can say that.”

The way she bites on her bottom lip and avoids glancing up tells me a different story. “I bet there was lots of bedazzling in your past. Your dad must have loved that,” I say, trying to break the tension.

She laughs again, the best fucking sound I’ve ever heard. “Surprisingly, my crafting hobby didn’t start until college. I know, I’m so amazing at it you probably thought I had a lifetime of practice.”

“I’m genuinely shocked. Those were not the hot glue gun skills of a novice.” She scoffs, her eyes rolling of their own accord. While she keeps up her search, I pull up the last photo I took of Bailey on my phone. It’s hard to look at, but I can’t not ask Wayne here if he’s ever seen her. “She look familiar to you?”

His eyes bulge as he shakes his head no. It was a long shot, but I had to try.

Falin gestures for me. “I think I found something. Bring him over here.”

“You hear that? Time to be useful.” Wayne struggles against the binding as I drag him to his feet. “What did you find?”

“It’s a New York address.” She lifts the hastily scribbled note, holding it where I can read it. “Everything else here is just for show. Even those family photos feel carefully curated. The whole office has this artificial perfection, like it’s staged by a realtor—pristine, untouched, unlived in. Almost as if it’s all just an elaborate decoy.”

“You know, now that you say that, I see what you mean.” The rest of the house felt the same way. Is this place even their home? Is the whole thing fake?

I hold the note up for Wayne to see. “What’s at this address? Why is it the only thing here even remotely personal?”

He mumbles something through the gag. “I’m going to take the sock out. If you yell, I won’t think twice about blowing your brains out all over this expensive rug.”

“Won’t that attract attention?” Falin asks. She steps aside to finish up whatever she was doing at the computer.

I hold up my gun. “Silencer. It works wonders.”

“Smart,” she says, a small smile at the corner of her lips. The fact that she has absolutely no issue with me potentially shooting a man is so fucking hot.

“Sometimes I think ahead.” I direct my attention back to Wayne. “The address. I’ll give you thirty seconds to give us something worth sparing your pathetic life.”

I barely pull the saliva-coated sock from his mouth before he’s wailing like a little baby. “Please, I don’t know anything!”

“Don’t lie to me, Wayne. I really hate liars.” I tap his forehead with my gun.

“I’m not lying. He doesn’t tell me things. He doesn’t trust me yet.” His words are stifled from deep, sobbing breaths.

“What was that conversation earlier then? Go over the final details? Tell us what he meant, and fast. I’m getting bored.”

Falin cuts in. “Almost done here. I’m going to make it look like his computer has a virus.”

“I’m getting nowhere with him,” I say to Falin. “Might be time to put him out of his misery.”

I don’t know what kind of reaction to expect from her. Disgust? Anger? Resignation?

“I like that plan. Do it over here. We can leave him under the desk. My gut tells me he’s a piece of shit.”

Holy fuckballs.

That was so not the reaction I expected.

Is it too early to tell her I love her? Because I think I do. My cock certainly feels strongly.

“You heard the woman,” I tell Wayne. My voice bounces off the gleaming wood shelves and luxury wallpaper. “Last chance.”

The metallic click of my gun cocking sends him into hysterics. A dark stain spreads across his khakis as piss runs down his leg. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he sobs, words tumbling out between rapid breaths.

“Now that’s just nasty, Wayne.” Shaking my head, I eye the growing puddle on the carpet. “They’ll never get that stain out.” I laugh at my joke, a dark rumble from my belly that almost sounds foreign to my ears. “Any last words?”

His eyes dart to the door, then back to the gun. “Downstairs...”

Now he has my attention. “What’s downstairs?”

He rocks back and forth, eyes squeezed shut. “He’ll kill me,” he mumbles, the words becoming a broken mantra. “He’ll kill me. He’ll kill me.”

“I’m the one with the gun, Wayne. What the fuck is downstairs?”

Falin stands by my side. “Wayne,” she says. “Help us out here. Fairfax treats you like shit. Why keep his secrets?”

At the sound of her voice, he opens his eyes. Something shifts in his features as his eyes narrow. “Fucking cunt. Why would I tell you a word?” He shoots a lob of spit from his lips right onto Falin’s feet, and I see red.

My jaw clenches hard enough that my teeth could crack. I grip my gun so tight that my knuckles burn. Beside me, Falin goes deadly still—the kind of stillness that comes before a storm. The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees.

Wayne’s lips curl into a sneer, his earlier terror forgotten in this small act of defiance. He doesn’t realize he just made the biggest mistake of his soon to be very short life.

“Do it.” Before she can blink an eye, I pull the trigger and put a bullet between Wayne’s eyes. As he goes down with a thud, crimson sprays like fireworks across the fancy wallpaper. We don’t stay long enough to watch him bleed onto that pretty rug.

I grab Falin’s hand and pull her toward the door, making sure the hallway is empty before we leave the study. “Shit.” Falin’s voice shakes.

“It’s okay. We’re both wearing gloves. This won’t come back on us.” Normally I get rid of our bodies, but this is different. Leon and Damon are going to fucking freak. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

I start toward the door but Falin plants her feet. “No. We have to see what’s downstairs.”

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. “Fuck. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not without the guys.”

“What the hell did we come here for then?” Her words are laced with ice. Of course she’s right, but hell, I just killed a man. Everything in me is screaming to get the fuck out of here. “Come on, our bet’s not over yet. I still need to save your ass.”

“And this is why your name is Trouble,” I say with a long exhale. “Lead the way.”