Page 79 of Carry Your Debt

I now understandthe real reason my father insisted on keeping me isolated from the Roxborough mission for so long.

I’d blindly assumed it to be some combination of Sebastian needing to keep my presence from tipping off the Aces—and wanting to punish Sabine by removing one of her main crutches:me.

But now that Tristan Sinclair is standing in front of me, without the interference of a masquerade disguise, I can see how laughably wrong I was.

Because Tristan Sinclair is thespitting fuckingimageof my younger self.

Had Sabine known me in my teens, perhaps she would have connected the dots for us much, much earlier. Even Rhett had only met me for the first time after I was already well into my twenties. I’d also kept my facial hair for as long as either of them could remember.

Rhett squints, handsome face scrunched in faux concentration. “I can definitely see it now.”

A fucking blind person could see it.

These eerily similar faces carry exactly none of our mothers.

They’re purelyGrayson.

I hold out my hand, ignoring both Orbison’s levity and the veiled scorn Sinclair shoots him. There’s definite animosity there.

But that’s something I’ll have to get to the bottom of another day.

“Jackson,” I offer gruffly. “And I’m sorry that we’re meeting like this. I’m sorry you’re being dragged into our mess at all.”

There are dark circles under Sinclair’s eyes, and his expression remains guarded as he takes in the scattered positions of my Crew. But he stands tall in a well-pressed button-down and slacks, holding himself steady with that perfect composure borne of a natural leader.

When he slips the palm of his hand firmly into mine, I take it as a good sign. As much as the revelation of our shared DNA has thrown our entire future into uncertainty, I also can’t move forward with him on my team while still holding my father’s sins over his head.

He didn’t ask to be born to a monster any more than I did.

In that, he’s completely innocent.

There’s just the matter of Sabine.

Even shaking my hand, Apollo doesn’t fully take his focus off her.

In fact, all four of the Boys are unabashedly tracking Sabine’s movements as she putters around behind me in the kitchen of our Rox City homebase.

Jameson hovers right behind Sinclair’s shoulder. The plain black tank he’s wearing covers a hell of a lot less ink than his tuxedo did. I can now see that the tattoos run over every visible inch of his neck, chest, shoulders, arms, and down to the backs of his hands. His jaw looks about ready to come off its hinge with how tightly he holds it.

Miller is perched on top of the couch in a faded Hawaiian shirt that he’s left open, feet propped on the back seat cushion.His mop of blond curls looks wild today, hanging over his eyes as he leans forward, intently watching Sabine cut slices of provolone.

Rhodes—dressed head to toe in black—has his back pressed to the wall furthest from the kitchen, as if he hopes his molecules might somehow find the right frequency and vibrate him straight through it.

One might think that after sharing her with my best friend the idea of Apollo and his friends as potential partners of hers would be an easier pill to swallow.

The problem is that when I made the decision to break protocol and head to Rox City, I was drunk, angry, and desperate to lay eyes on her. I convinced myself that I was only going in there to see her as her Team Leader, and while the beast may have arrived collared and leashed, I’d forgotten to bring its muzzle.

Now that it’s had a taste of freedom, I’ve not been able to re-collar it.

So, although just the thought of her and Orbison no longer makes me want to put my fist through the nearest drywall, I’m still grappling with the possibility of my needing to further expand that concession.

Sinclair finally drags his eyes away from Sabine and dips his chin at me.

“I guess it’s as much my mess now, as it is yours,” he replies, with as much signature Grayson confidence in his voice as his carriage.

How did we ever miss this?

His hand slips back into his pocket while he takes a moment to more closely inspect my features. I wonder if this feels as much like a spectacle to him as it does for me.

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