Monk by Ivy Black
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kasey
“So, here’s the deal,” he starts, “I have to go on a quick run, but it shouldn’t take long. When I get back, we’ll run by your dad’s place and grab your things. After that, we’re going to stash you at the clubhouse. You’ll be safe there.”
“I can’t just hide at the clubhouse.”
I’m sitting at the kitchen table with a stack of blueberry pancakes in front of me. While I showered, Jacob apparently decided to whip up my favorite breakfast. I honestly don’t know how he remembers all of this stuff after all those years, and in other circumstances, it might even be creepy. But in this context, I think it’s really thoughtful and sweet.
He nods. “Yeah, you can. And you will. It’ll buy us a little time to figure out what we’re going to do. We might even be able to get in touch with Zavala.”
I arch an eyebrow. “You have connections with the cartel?”
Jacob shakes his head. “More like a friend of a friend of a friend thing. And that’s not even a certainty. The important thing is we get you somewhere safe while we figure out how to handle this.”
“Have you talked to your club about this? I’m not sure they’re going to want to get mixed up with a cartel.”
“They’ll back my play. We’re brothers, Kasey. It’s what we do.”
“What about my dad?” I ask. “Should we warn him?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. Not until we have something solid to go on. If we can work this all out before we have to get him involved, all the better. I’m more worried about you right now.”
I nod, feeling somewhat heartened but still somehow reticent to put all of these men in harm’s way because of my poor decision making.
“Do you think giving the money back will make this go away?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I doubt it. I don’t even think this was about the money for Spencer, truthfully. He has the money to replace what I took. For him, it’s all about control.”
“How much is in the bag?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t counted. But I thought I heard that cartel guy say it’s over a million.”
Jacob whistles low, then frowns. “That’s a lot of cash. I can see why they’d be all over you to get it back.”
“Yeah, I guess so. But I can almost guarantee, even if I hadn’t taken the money, Spencer would still be doing all of this to get me back. And it’s not that he even wants me back. It’s more that he doesn’t want people to know I left him.”
“He sounds like a winner.”
“You don’t even know the half of it. All I know for certain is that people’s opinion of him matters more than me. And people knowing I walked out on him, destroying his idealized image, is damaging to him, even if only in his own mind,” I say.
Jacob glances at his watch. “Okay well, I need to get on the road. Stay here and stay close to Bo.”
I look down at the big dog who’s staring at me, obviously using his eyes to will me into giving him a piece of the bacon on my plate. I give him a scratch behind the ears and then flip him half a piece of bacon.
“Sorry. I can’t resist that face,” I say.
Jacob sets a handgun down on the table beside the plate. Startled, I lean back in the seat, trying to put as much distance as possible between me and the gun, looking at it like it’s a snake, coiled and ready to strike.
“Where did you get that?” I ask, slightly disturbed that he just has plenty of guns to casually hand out.
“I’ve had it since I was in the service,” he replies. “Do you know how to use it?”
“My dad’s the sheriff and he loves to hunt. What do you think?”
“I’m thinking you didn’t get a lot of Barbies growing up.”
“You wouldn’t be wrong. Though my mom did try to make sure some dolls and other girly things made it into my life.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, I guess. Guns are more practical,” he replies
“I don’t want it, though. I don’t like guns.”
“Keep it. And hopefully you won’t have to use it, but if you do need to, do not hesitate to pull the trigger,” Jacob says, his voice earnest. “They won’t hesitate, so you don’t either. If it comes down to it and it’s you or them, make sure it’s them, Kasey. These guys don’t fuck around. You can’t either.”
“I have until the end of the day. And you’ll be back long before that, so I’m not even going to need it.”
He sighs, exasperated with me. “Probably. You’re probably right. But probably isn’t good enough for me. I want to know you’re not only going to be here when I get back, but if some shit goes sideways, that you have the means to protect yourself.”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I doubt I’m going to need it, but I’ll keep it.”
“And?” he presses.
“And I’ll use it if I have to.”
He nods. “Good girl,” he says. “Now, eat your breakfast before Bo gets a mind to take it from you.”
I laugh and as he turns, I stand up and throw my arms around him. There’s so much fear and uncertainty in my life right now that the solid feel of his body is reassuring. It tethers me to the world, and maybe it’s crazy, but he makes me feel like everything is actually going to be okay.
I look up into those blue eyes of his that have always managed to turn my insides to water. They still do. And I realize as we stand there, clinging to each other, the precariousness of the coming days weighing us down, I know that I can’t let him walk out the door without acknowledging these unspoken feelings between us. Maybe it’s selfish and I’m doing it for me, but I need to put them out there, regardless of what he says, or doesn’t say, in return.
“Last night was really special, Jacob. I just… I wanted to tell you how much it meant to me,” I say slowly, a flutter rippling through my heart. “I wanted to tell you how much you mean to me.”
He lowers his head and places a soft kiss on my lips. As he pulls back, I see the emotions in his eyes. He doesn’t even need to say a word because I know he feels the same for me. I can see it as plain as day.
“I’ve wanted to hear those words for a really long time, Kasey. I’ve missed hearing them. I’ve missed you. And yeah, last night was really special. You’re very special to me, and we’re going to get through this so I can spend the rest of my life making up for what I did… back then,” he says gently, his voice thick with emotion.
“The first thing we need to do is let go of… back then. All that matters is right now. And right now feels pretty amazing.”
He nods. “It really does. And you make me look forward to the future. It’s something I haven’t done in a really long time.”
We stand in silent contemplation for a moment. It’s only the sound of Bo whining that pulls us back to the here and now. I turn and see the big dog staring at me, his eyes shifting to the plate, then back to me. Jacob and I share a laugh.
“I told you he’d get a mind to eat your breakfast,” he says.
My smile stretches from ear to ear. “Go. And I’ll see you soon.”
Jacob kisses me again, then turns away and I swat him on the butt as he walks away, making him laugh. I sit back down at the table and listen to the sound of Jacob’s bike firing up. It’s rumbling fades into the distance as he rides off, leaving me to share my breakfast with Bo, who seems pleased.
After breakfast, I clean up and put the dishes into the dishwasher, then wander around the house for a while. I try watching TV, but nothing holds my interest. And after wandering around a bit more, then playing ball with Bo in the backyard, I realize I’m anxious and antsy. More than that, I’m terrified. The knot in my stomach is tightening, the discomfort unrelenting.
And I feel utterly useless. Jacob is doing all the planning and getting things smoothed over with his club, making me wonder if they even know what they’re going to be agreeing to, or if they understand the danger they’re walking into. The thought of any of them getting hurt because of me turns my stomach and fills me with a dread so powerful and oppressive I feel completely suffocated.
“I can’t do this all day,” I mutter to Bo.
That’s when I decide to do something. The very least I can do is get myself ready instead of sitting here like a lump, doing nothing, and expecting everybody else to do everything for me. That’s never been my style and never will be.
With the decision made, I take Bo back into the house, then quickly get my socks and shoes on. After I make sure the house is locked up and Bo’s door to his run is open, I give the big dog a scratch behind the ears.
“I’ll be back in just a few. Don’t tear anything up or pee on anything. You got it, mister?”
He licks my face, making me laugh. Using the spare key Jacob gave me in case I need to run out for anything, I lock up behind me and get behind the wheel of my Range Rover, pulling out of his driveway.
Twenty minutes later, I’m at my dad’s house, breathing a sigh of relief that he’s not home. I really don’t want to deal with another confrontation today. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is. I’m sure he has his guys keeping an eye out for my car. It won’t surprise me in the least if he already has an APB out on me.
I let myself in and walk into the kitchen. There’s a note on the refrigerator from him: I’m sorry we got so heated last night. We need to talk. Love, Dad. A small stab of guilt pierces my heart as I read his words. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He doesn’t have to be dealing with this garbage. And his life most certainly doesn’t have to be in danger.
All of this is because of Spencer. This is all his fault. My absolute hatred of that man is growing by leaps and bounds by the minute. But as I let the hate wash over me, I can’t help but feel some of it turn inward. It was my decision to quit school and marry Spencer… over my dad’s objections. If I’m being honest, there were enough warning signs even back then. Warning signs I chose to ignore.
Maybe I was still running from the memories and the pain when I met Spencer. Maybe I was still trying to dig myself out of the wreckage of my life and my heart. Maybe Spencer was just the wrong guy at the right time because I threw myself into him right away. Being with him allowed me to forget about how much Jacob had hurt me. At least for a while.
Tired of the self-flagellation and questioning my every life decision, I dash upstairs and empty out the drawers in the dresser and my closet. After that, I throw everything into my bag. I drag it downstairs and haul it out onto the porch, the memories of my flight from Spencer’s house—it was always his house and never mine—popping up in my mind again.
I drag the bag over to the back door of the Range Rover, using the key fob to disarm the alarm. Movement from the corner of my eye as I open the back door draws my attention and I turn to see a man step around the back of the car. He’s got short, dark hair, tawny skin, a neatly trimmed goatee, and he’s dressed in a nicely tailored suit. The adrenaline that surges through me is like a tsunami, so deep and intense, I feel like I might drown in it.
I know this man. I saw him in Spencer’s house. It’s Spencer’s cartel contact, the man who left the bag of money I stole.
“How are you today, Mrs. Deavers? Would you mind comin’ with me?”
