Page 102 of Possession

Her response? A grumble and a kidney punch that could’ve laid Muhammed Ali low.

“Seriously, Carson? Thieves don’t ring the bell. Get a grip.” She stalked forward and yanked open the door to Benedict Arnold Hollister.

Because...of course.

I didn’t know he was a Benedict Arnold. There was still that nagging itch that had started with his cuff links that had been mostly banished, but every now and then, my doubts reared their heads.

Like right this instant.

Instead, I glared at Grace. “Do you have a button on your phone that summons him?”

“Asshole,” she muttered, turning away before she could see my raised eyebrow. Not that she would’ve minded getting a rise out of me. She did often enough that it was standard operating procedure now.

“Tension, girls and boys?” Jack asked, gliding between us and into the living room.

“Why are you here?”

“Better question.” He turned and smoothed a hand over his shirt. His tie was dangling out of his jacket pocket. “Why were you at a known mob hangout this evening?”

The front door slammed shut.

“A known mob hangout. That makes sense,” Grace said as she moved around me to join Jack in the living room. “Where else would we have our first date?”

“Your first date?” Jack looked between us. “Not to be indelicate, but usually office trysts and living together comesafterthose. But Blake was always backasswards.”

“How do you know where we were tonight?” I stepped into Jack’s space, not stopping until we were toe to toe.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I was having a late dinner with Vi when her brother called to ask if you were in trouble again.” Jack shook his head and walked away, deftly putting space between us. “I know why you were there tonight, but other people don’t, Blake. And they talk. With your background,” he cast a quick glance at Grace, “you have to be careful.”

“She knows,” I said, making him snap his gaze back to mine. Shock tightened his jaw.

“He told me under duress.” Grace sat on the couch and pushed her hands through her already windblown hair. “But yeah, I know about his father and how he could’ve taken a different road. But it sounds like Vi’s brother is thinking he’s going right back to his roots.” She cocked her head. “Why was he even there? If he knows it’s a mob hangout...”

“A very good question.” Jack removed the tie from his pocket and pulled it through his hands. To say he seemed on edge didn’t begin to touch the tension radiating from him. “He says that he and Marina have gone there for years. Interesting, since La Cucina has only been around for months.”

“Another restaurant in that space, maybe.”

“Doubtful. What are the odds of Danny and you being in New York on the same night, same place?”

I cracked my knuckles. “You tell me, since apparently it’s as odd as you showing up here when Grace was about to call you.”

Jack was involved with the security at the house. Maybe he knew exactly why it wasn’t standing up to the intruders who were so determined to get inside.

Perhaps he even had heard Grace summon him. How could I be sure what measures he’d resorted to in order to monitor my activities?

I couldn’t be sure of anything right now, except the need to send Grace far away.

“I just told you why I’m here. Between Danny asking too many questions about what you were doing in New York, and those goddamn dummy corporations in Brooklyn, along with Annabelle and Philomena’s names all over those damn files?—”

Grace jerked to her feet. “Phil? What are you saying?”

“Gracie, you knew Phil was involved.” Jack reached out to rub Grace’s arm and I swear, it was all I could do not to strike out.

I knew my possessiveness had more to do with the break-in than Jack, but Christ, she was mine.

She was finally mine.

Absently, Grace brushed off Jack’s hand. “No, I didn’t. All I knew was that she was acquainted with my grandmother. They ran in the same circles, knew the same people. Now you’re saying another one of the few people I trusted is a complete fraud?”

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