Page 105 of Family Jewels
“And a dog,” I said, trying keep my emotion out of my voice. “You’re forgetting the dog.”
He turned back to me, and his gaze held mine. The sadness in his eyes wrenched my heart. “And the dog,” he said ruefully. “I’d rather take a bullet to the head than live that life. It will never be me.”
Anger mushroomed in my chest even though I knew he was right, maybe because of it. “You don’t get to decide what I want! I never asked you for anything more than you are, James Malcolm,” I said, my voice hard. “I never asked you foranything.”
“You did. Tonight. Radcliffe Dyer is a huge risk to your life. And to mine. I should have eliminated that threat. But I didn’t. For you.”
I sucked in an angry breath. “You’re chiding me for reminding you to have a conscience? For placing value on human life?”
“There’s no room for that in this world. You heard what he said. It’s why Wagner and Reynolds are coming after me.”
“You’re full of crap. Iknowyou value human life. You valued your mother’s life and your brother’s. You value mine.”
Anger filled his eyes. “To my detriment. Emotion makes me weak. Caring about someone makes me vulnerable. I had to get out of bed at goddamned three o’clock in the morning to deal with a mess created by my own sloppiness.” He took several steps away from me and started pacing.
“Are you saying that you don’t want me in your life?”
He still refused to look at me. “No. And that’s exactly what makes me weak. I’m giving Wagner and Reynolds a weapon to use against me.” He turned back to face me. “The most damned effective weapon they could ever have. I’d do anything to save you.”
“James,” I choked out. “I’d do the same for you.”
“I know. And that scares the shit out of me.” His face was drawn and he looked like he wanted to throw up. “This can never happen again.Never.”
“You can’t make that decision on your own. This is between the two of us.”
“It’s not up for discussion.”
“We could work this out. You’re not the first man who is a . . . works on the other side of the law to have a relationship.”
His eyes hardened. “Criminal. Say it, Rose.”
My mouth parted as I watched him.
“I’m acriminal. The sheriff could file a dozen charges on me, and I’d probably be guilty of them all. But I’d pay Carter a hefty sum to defend me. Then he’d offer a nice cash gift to multiple people to get me off the charges, and I’d walk free because of my own corruption.” He shook his head. “You can’t live with that. Even when you worked for me as the Lady in Black, you only did it to save Mason Deveraux’s life. You had a higher purpose. My purpose is to make money and gain power.”
“I did it to save your life as well.”
“But not my business.”
I couldn’t argue with that. He was right. Tears filled my eyes. “But that’s not you. Not the real you.”
“Rose,” he said so softly I could barely hear him. “It’s the most real part of me.” He ripped his shirt off over his head, and I gasped. His chest was solid, and his abs rippled down into his jeans. He moved toward me with a purpose in his eyes, and I held my breath, thinking—hoping—he’d changed his mind. Instead, he grabbed my hand and put it on a scar on his side. Electricity zipped through my blood. “See this? This was from a knife fight in my pool hall. It was over a gambling debt.”
I gasped and tried to pull away, but he held tight and moved my hand to his left shoulder. “This is from a gunshot wound when I worked for J.R. Simmons.”
I looked up into his face.
“I’ve been on death’s door nearly half a dozen times, but it didn’t matter because no one gave a shit. I can’t afford to worry about someone giving a shit.”
“Too damn late, James Malcolm,” I said, trying not to cry, trying not to think of all of those horrible things happening to him. “I started caring about you months and months ago. Even beforethis.” I motioned between us. “We were friends first, and you damn well know it. Whether we dothisor not, I care about you.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You’re full of talk about how bad and brave you are. But it’s all talk, because you’re acoward,” I said, my temper heating again. “You want to choose your life of crime over the chance to have a real life, then go ahead. But you’re living in denial if you think something could happen to you and no one would care.” I poked my finger into his chest. “I know the real reason you’re doing this—because you believe you don’t deserve to have someone love you. Because your father convinced you that was your truth, yet I’m here to tell you that’s a lie.” I took two steps up the stairs, then turned around to look into his stunned face. “But guess what? You and I are a whole lot more alike than you give us credit for. You’re just too stubborn to see it.”
He gave me a long hard look, then walked to the front door.
Chapter 22
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