Page 137 of Luck of the Devil
Like me.
He hadn’t said the words, but they were unmistakable, all the same.
My shoulders stiffened. “If I see her again, I can’t guarantee I won’t kill her.”
His gaze softened with understanding, and a tenderness I still didn’t know what to do with. “Then, for your sake, I hope she’s armed.”
Chapter 35
At Malcolm’s instance, I drove him to the tavern, calling Carter on the way. He sounded like a mother hen, fretting over Malcolm’s injuries. He promised he’d have a car waiting at the tavern for us, along with a couple of guards to make sure we made it to James’s house without any further incidents. He also promised to send someone to look over James’s injuries.
“He needs someone good,” I insisted, casting a sidelong glance at James in the passenger seat. He was struggling to stay conscious. “Not some quack. A qualified medical professional who won’t screw this up.”
“You’re worse than Skeeter,” Carter said with an impatient sigh.
I grinned. “That’s quite the compliment.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” he grumbled.
Malcolm shook himself awake and grilled him about what had been done to contain the situation on the county road as well as the factory. Carter assured him he had it handled and told James to focus on getting better.
“And preparing for war,” James growled.
“Not if we can help it,” Carter said, hesitation thick in his voice.
Malcolm leaned his head back against the seat. “You know we’ve been gearing up for it.”
“Maybe so,” Carter said, “but it sounds like you’re in no shape to go to war with anyone. Not in your state. Get well, then we’ll come up with a plan.”
Malcolm flicked his gaze to me, and I knew he was thinking about Nicole Knox’s threat to send her son after me.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. “But Carter’s right. In your current shape, you’re no help to anyone. You’re a liability.”
He looked at me, startled, and Carter turned so silent I thought we’d lost our connection. Then James started laughing.
“What the hell is so funny?” I demanded.
“No one’s talked to him like that for a long time,” Carter finally said. “Anyone who tried would have been cut down before they finished the sentence.”
“Who called him on his bullshit before me?”
Both men went silent, James turning sullen. Had it been Jed? But no, that didn’t fit. Something told me it had been a woman.
Jealousy reared its head, sharp and ugly. But I reminded myself that we both had pasts. And declarations a man made when his brain was still scrambled couldn’t be held against him.
Even if his kisses still burned on my lips.
Next, I called my father.
“I met Nicole Knox,” I said, catching the flash of anger in Malcolm’s eyes.
“Oh, Harper! No.” My father sounded gutted.
“She came to me,” I said. “But you know she killed Mom, right?” The words caught in my throat.
He was quiet for a long moment. “I suspected.”
“She sought Mom out. She befriended her, then pretended she wanted to help protect her, all so she could get those documents.”
