Page 16 of Jack's Devotion

"Jesus Christ. Madeline! Jack has lost his mind. He's finally gone completely around the bend. Do you still have the number for that witch doctor?"

"Witch doctor? What the ever-living fuck?"

"She met him at a party. He's a psychiatrist. It's a long story. Don't ask," he mutters. "You know how this town is. You grew up here. That's beside the point. What the fuck is going on with you?"

"Nothing. She isn't a ghost."

"That is not what you said."

"You didn't let me finish what I was trying to say before you started shouting for the number for a witch doctor, you asshole."

"It was a costume, Jack. Acostume. The man is a psychiatrist."

"Which I don't need." I rub my temples. "You're giving me high blood pressure now."

"Happy to return the favor," Drake says, a smile in his voice. "Who are you bringing to dinner?"

"Ah, I can't tell you." I trust my employees, but with gossip like the return of Madison Laurent? Well, there are very few people I trust with that kind of information. Word spreads like a fucking flu in this town. The last thing Madison needs is for one of my people to overhear me talking about her to Drake and the whole goddamn town to know she's back and living with me.

"Why the fuck not?"

"You'll understand when we get there."

"That doesn't sound ominous at all."

"It isn't. Just trust me. You'll love her. She's going to be the mother of my children."

"You are not making me want to call the psychiatrist any less," he mutters, his tone bleak.

I chuckle, leaning back in my chair to stare out of the window. From my office, I can see all of Silver Spoon Falls. Downtown isas busy and beautiful as ever. "I told you to trust me, little bro. It'll all make sense when we get there."

"If you say so. I'm putting the fucking shrink's number on speed dial though. Just in case."

I roll my eyes but let him have his fun. As soon as we get there, he'll understand. He may spend less time out and about than I do, but it's impossible to live around here and not know about Madison. Her posters are everywhere. Her asshole father stopped putting them up years ago, but Dillon isn't her dad. He still makes a point to ensure they get hung up every year. He still looks for her.

And Drake knows me better than anyone. He never asked a single question when I made that donation after she went missing. Just like he never asked why I drank myself into a stupor after that party. He didn't have to ask. He fucking knew. Just like I'm sure, on some level, he knows that all my bullshit about not being made for marriage and family is just that—bullshit.

I bury myself in work and drive everyone batshit crazy and have for years because what the fuck else was I supposed to do? For one brief moment in time, I met the person I was never able to get out of my head. And I didn't do a goddamn thing about it because she was too young. And then she disappeared.

I figured that was my sign that marriage and family weren't meant for me. Love wasn't in the cards. Turns out…it's been out there the entire time. Hiding. Afraid to come home.

I'm mad as hell about that. Not at her. At myself. At fate. At the last seven years. Maybe we needed them. I don't fucking know. But I don't like them.

She should have been here. She should have been safe.

And she wasn't.

For seven damn years, she was out there alone.

I am not okay with that.

I can't rail at fate though. I can't kick the shit out of the past.

But I can wrap my hands around Gerald Laurent's neck and squeeze until he's gasping for breath. Nothing about that sounds like a bad time to me. If he ends up even half as afraid as I'm sure she was hearing him plotting to have her killed, then helping her haunt the living shit out of him will be worth it.

"Don't tell anyone that I'm bringing anyone," I warn Drake. "This isn't me being weird and secretive. This is me being dead serious. It's important. No one can know about her right now."

He's quiet for a long moment, and then he sighs. "I swear to God, Jack, if she's in the mafia, I'm killing you myself."

---