Page 32 of Dagger

John’s hand went to his beard, and he rubbed it thoughtfully. “Bowie was a boxer. He’ll know where to hit.”

“It has to be convincing,” Brett added. “It’ll blow my cover if Henderson suspects something’s off. If he thinks I opened my mouth about his business, I’ll be a dead man.”

“Problem is,” Cash interjected. “You going back will look suspicious. If you were our prisoner, you’d never get out. We certainly wouldn’t hand you back.”

“We could arrange a swap,” John suggested, his stare meeting Cash’s.

“How would you do that?” I asked.

He turned to me. “Have you got anything there with sentimental value?”

“Yeah. My baby pictures of Const—” I stopped myself, “—Sophie. He knows they mean everything to me.”

“It’s a risk,” Cash pointed out.

“Yeah,” John agreed. “We’re banking on the fact Henderson doesn’t know who Sophie is. If he’s aware she’s our girl, he’ll know you’re in contact with her, so the pictures won’t be worth anything, seein’ as you’ve got the real thing standing in front of ya.” His face twisted toward his son. “Call Soph in, Veep. It’s time to get to the bottom of it.”

“On it,” Cash said before he turned and stalked from the room.

I stared at John, marveling at how assured he’d become over the years. When we were together, he was as alpha as they came,but the years had built a confidence in him that he hadn’t had time to develop back then.

“Still bossy,” I murmured, smiling up at him.

John laughed softly, and I suddenly felt my heart bloom inside my chest, warming my blood.

Seeing him so carefree made me remember the old days when we didn’t have a worry in the world, and laughing came as naturally as breathing. I’d wake up smiling and go to sleep content in the knowledge I was Stone’s, and he was mine, and nothing would ever come between us.

More fool me for believing in something good.

John’s fingertips rested on my wrist, and my lungs seized when tingles began to flutter up my arm. “Baby,” he said huskily. “I gotta speak to you about something. I—”

A piercing shriek sounded from the hallway, making me jump slightly, and a woman’s voice cried, “Mason! What the hell have you done?”

I wrenched my arm away from John’s warm grip.

“What the fuck?” he muttered.

“On your face, Mason? I can’t believe you!” the voice I recognized as Iris yelled from the corridor. “Abe, look what he’s done.”

“Fuck’s sake,” John muttered, his head swiveling toward the door. “What’s he been up to now?”

Colt smirked. “Is he still bein’ an asshole?”

John shook his head frustratedly. “He thinks he’s thirty-five, and he knows everythin’. Abe caught him up the woods with a group of assholes, a packet of smokes, and a six-pack of beer last week.”

“Fuck,” Colt muttered.

“Yeah,” John replied. “Personally, don’t gotta problem with it. I took my first drink young and let my kids drink beer beforethey were legal. I always found it took the mystery out of it for ‘em. The problem is, he did it behind Abe’s back.”

“Fuck,” Colt repeated, shaking his head.

“He’s the school hotshot,” John added. “Got the kids eatin’ out of his hand. Eighteen, leather jacket, motorcycle. The boys wanna be him, and the girls swoon like he’s the reincarnation of James Dean.”

My mind cast back to John as a twenty-year-old riding through Main Street on his motorcycle and sending all the girls in town under his spell. “Sounds like somebody I used to know,” I murmured pointedly.

The corners of his mouth hitched.

My heart fluttered.

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