Page 72 of Royal Flush

“Yes. Okay, I did, but that doesn’t mean you’re not a bad guy in disguise.”

“I am a bad guy in disguise. Anyone will tell you that. But I have no intention of allowing anything to happen to your best friend. I need you to trust me on that alone.”

I was now standing in front of the elevator pacing back and forth. I refused to lose the connection.

“I don’t know.”

“Ashton. I’ll have her call you later. Okay?”

Finally, I sensed when something snapped within her. “If you dare hurt a hair on her head, I will track you down myself.”

“Deal.”

“There’s a coffee shop about eight blocks away from the hotel you’re staying at. I could tell she was scared.”

“As she should be. Thank you, Ashton. You’ve done the right thing.”

“I hope so. She’s a good person with a shithead for a father.”

At least that much we could agree on.

It was time to get the hell out of the city.

CHAPTER 19

Jasmine

The strong cup of coffee had done nothing but churn in my stomach.

I was antsy, even terrified and there was no reason for it. Or was there? So much didn’t make any sense but as I’d been waiting, I’d thought about the off the cuff meeting with Maggie I’d had, the recommendation she’d made.

Only it hadn’t been off the cuff. Not really.

She’d asked me out to lunch, which hadn’t been abnormal, but the timing was odd since we were getting ready to leave the country. She’d not just recommended the island, she’d said something I hadn’t picked up on but now seemed entirely too cryptic.

That I would find everything I needed there.

What in God’s name had she meant?

Maybe my mind was just too foggy to find the answers. That’s why I needed time away. I was wringing my hands, beads of perspiration dripping off me and I must look hideous given the long walk.

And I missed Braxton of all things.

I’d almost called him twice but some things I needed to handle on my own. That was my personality and I wasn’t sorry about it. Besides, I was being careful. I was no fool. One thing Braxton was correct about was that certain things didn’t add up, as if two or three puzzles had been mixed together in a box. Maybe the analogy was a little off but I’d almost called my father, demanding to know what was going on. But how would he know?

Because my father always made it a point to keep abreast of everything that occurred around him. Hell, he’d hired a team of people to investigate opponents, even threatening the few who’d dared cross him publicly.

He had never been shy of the cameras or talking to any and every member of the press, often inflaming whatever topic was in question.

He’d had his share of death threats too, and he’d been shot at twice, once when Mom and I were in close proximity. However, it was something the family wasn’t allowed to talk about. Pfft. That was crazy. His aspirations were so important to him, he acted as if he couldn’t care less what happened to his own family.

Another reason I’d hated him, doing everything in my power to get away. And my mother? She wasn’t as dumb as she portrayed herself to be. She simply chose to look the other way. Something I couldn’t do.

Ever.

So here I was pacing the floor in a small coffee shop, waiting to be shuttled to some small apartment to stew over the recent events. I was furious with myself, a heavy weight on my shoulders. I was so anxious, I continued to look at my phone, trying to remain patient but I knew Braxton wasn’t going to let me go without a fight.

Maybe what I really wanted was for him to come after me.

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