Page 70 of Faded Gray Lines

I turned around, and it took me a moment to recognize the woman dressed in a conservative blue floor-length gown. Her long chestnut brown hair was swept to the side in a low sophisticated ponytail. I’d always known it to be short and efficient—just like her.

“Jackie? Is that you?”

Jackie Abrams had been my mother’s campaign manager since her first run for mayor when I was fourteen. Back then, she’d been a bright-eyed twenty-nine-year old, hungry to get her hands dirty and change the world.

Eight years later all she had to show for it were dirty hands.

“Yes, it’s me, and a belated welcome back to Houston. However, I really need to speak with you. It’s urgent.” Shifting a glance toward Alex, she scowled and settled her gaze back on me. “And private.”

“Sure, we can go to the bar.”

She eyed the room, her lips pressed in a tight line. “No, let’s go outside on the terrace.”

I nodded, not bothering to give Alex a proper goodbye as we walked away. “I’m not interested in being a part of my mother’s campaign, if that’s what you’re—”

“How well do you know that man?” she interrupted, reaching for the terrace door.

“Alex? I just met him. Why?”

Jackie opened her mouth, then glancing over my shoulder, shut it just as fast. The same chill from earlier crept back into my veins, forcing my spine to straighten. I knew he was there. I didn’t have to turn around to confirm it.

“Another time, Jackie. Leighton promised me a dance.”

“I never said I’d...” The rest of my protest stuck in my throat as Finn tightened his hold on my arm and dragged me toward the dance floor. I could’ve caused a scene. I could’ve stomped my feet and yelled at the top of my lungs, but what would that have gotten me? I hadn’t endured almost a week of pretending to lose it now.

My stepfather’s arms was the last place I wanted to be, but I gritted my teeth and concentrated on breathing as he pulled me close, leading me in a classic waltz. “We need to talk about your problem,” he whispered, turning me around on the dance floor.

“I don’t have a—” I never got the last word out because Ididhave a problem, and it reopened old scars, spilling blood and secrets as I stared into Finn’s eyes for the first time tonight.

They were the color of steel and just as hard. Just like the ones I saw in my rearview mirror the night I was almost pushed into oncoming traffic.

I remembered now why they’d looked so familiar.

Twenty-Four

Mateo

My hands tightenedaround the white pillar, causing my forearms to shake with rage. If it hadn’t been so thick, I probably would’ve snapped it in two.

I arrived at this parade of assholes already in a bad mood and it’d only gone downhill from there. When I showed up at Brody’s apartment, mild irritation reached war zone destruction level. That thing she was wearing couldn’t even be classified as a dress. It was more like a piece of red Saran Wrap suctioned to her tits and ass. Leighton was a modest dresser, so when I saw her looking like she should be covered in dollar bills, I lost it.

I fucking lost it.

Not that it mattered much. She strutted right past me and climbed into the Tahoe without a word. Even though we argued the whole way here, she never once raised her voice, content to let me yell like a fucking lunatic. She was calm, cool, and eerily confident.

Unlike now.

I cringed watching her slam champagne all night, but I stayed hidden. I even held back from punching that old guy with the chin dimple who made her jumpy as hell. But it was her stepfather’s repeated touches that had me stepping out of the shadows and digging into my pocket to plunge my knife straight into his heart.

Everything from my determined steps across the dance floor to Leighton’s desperate struggles to pull away from him played out in slow motion. She looked like a bird he’d trapped in a cage, frantically flapping her wings toward freedom but going nowhere.

One hand was already in my pocket by the time I reached them as the other knocked his hand out of hers. Leighton gasped, but my focus centered on one man.

“Walk away,” I growled, pushing in between them.

“I was dancing with my stepdaughter, if you don’t mind.” Stepping around me, he reached for Leighton again.

Screw the knife. I’m going to kill this motherfucker with my bare hands.