Page 66 of End Game

Once the server departed, Kayla said, “You remembered.”

“Of course, you are my daughter. I remember everything about the past thirty-five years.”

Kayla lifted an eyebrow. “Everything?”

Jillian’s eyes narrowed. “All of the important bits.”

Kayla shook her head, smiling. “Can we get back to why you’re acting like Evelyn Salt? I know it’s not so you can ask me about the investigation. We could have done that downtown.”

Jillian finished chewing a bite of salmon. “Your father and I would like to engage a private security firm on your behalf.”

Had they somehow found out about the vandalism to her car? Kayla shoved the question away. Only three people knew about the etchings. And none of them would have informed Jillian or Gordon Krowne.

She finished stabbing lettuce, tomato, and bacon onto her fork. “Why would you want to hire bodyguards for me?”

“To protect you, of course. I—we take threats against our family seriously.” She toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “I’m even more keen on the idea after overhearing your conversation with Mr. O’Connor.”

“Tommy is scared, not violent.” She hoped. “I will deal with my client.” She gave her overprotective mother a pointed look. “Understood?”

Jillian cut her broccoli into perfect bite-sized pieces. “Very well.”

Kayla evaluated her parent’s body language for a good five seconds before letting the subject go. “As for the other, the police have yet to confirm that I was the intended target.”

“While they’re confirming, a murderer is running around Asheville, who may or may not want you dead.”

Kayla could see it then. A mother’s terror.

Over the years, there had been instances of overzealous activists, disappointed clients, ego-bruised politicians, or lobbyist haters who crossed the line.

For each incident, Jillian had gone through a battery of emotions, but never fear. Simmering anger fed her actions, which always boiled into satisfying retribution.

One time, her mother made a mouthy politician pay for his sin by holding her annual masquerade gala on the same night as the councilman’s biggest campaign fundraiser of the year. He barely took in enough money to pay the electric bill.

When a trio of extreme activists hacked into and plastered gruesome pictures on Kayla’s business website, Jillian had notified their employers. All three hactivists lost their jobs.

Jillian’s extreme actions had forced Kayla to stop telling her overprotective mother about the darker side of lobbying in order to protect her attackers from their moments of poor judgment. But an unknown shooter at large was a scenario Jillian Krowne didn’t have a retributive response for.

Setting down her knife, Kayla reached across the table and took hold of the older woman’s hand. “Mama, you don’t need to worry about me.” She nodded toward the hotel’s reception area, at the large man standing erect near one of the enormous columns. “I have Mason.”

To her surprise, tears crowded in the corner of Jillian’s eyes. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen her mother’s iron grip slip.

“Mason can’t be with you twenty-four-seven.” A note of pleading took hold of her voice. “Please let me do this for you. For us. I can’t lose you.”

Kayla’s heart twisted in a tight rope as she watched her freedom disappear. “All right, Mama. But I can take care of it myself.” She would talk to Mason, or maybe Ash, about a reputable company.

Ash.

As annoyed as she was with him the previous evening, she found it impossible to remain so today. All she could think about was how every part of her yearned to mold itself around him. Absorb his warmth, his strength, his everything.

“Where’d you go, Kayla?”

She blinked.

“I asked if you’re sure? I have time to do this for you.”

Kayla straightened and resumed her methodical shaving off bites of salad. “Positive.”

“You’ll take care of it today.”

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