Page 38 of His to Burn
When he said nothing, I continued, “Plan A is dead.”
I left no room for argument. Because I knew it was true.
I loved my condo with its thirteen foot ceilings, polished concrete floors, one bedroom, one and half baths, and a study that I turned into the reading nook of my dreams.
My home.
One of the few places I’d ever been able to call that.
Concrete proof of the little life I had managed to carve out for myself.
But it wasn’t safe.
I didn’t know ifanywherewas safe, but as much as I loved my place, I was a sitting duck there.
Jack just stared at me, his expression still giving nothing away.
“So we need to find somewhere safe.”
He didn’t react to my “we,” which was interesting.
I wasn’t sure when that happened, when Jackson and I became awe. I told myself it was only common sense.
Jack was clearly strong, smart, and capable.
Sticking with him was the right call.
All that was true, but my gut told me it was more than that.
Jack and I as awefelt right, and given the absolute fucking horror around me, I had no interest in questioning it.
I prayed he felt the same.
“Ifit gets sorted out,” he said, and I grimaced.
“It will,” I said with no hesitation. But as I glanced at the monitors and noticed even more of those people crowding the lawn, some of that certainty was called into question.
No.
I wouldn’t even allow myself to consider any other possibility. But until then, we needed a place to go.
“Your hotel is out of the question, and I don’t think going to the airport right now is a good idea, but you already know that,” I said.
He crinkled a brow. “I didn’t think lawyers got paid by the word. Want to get to the point, Counselor?”
“Ha-ha,” I said. “I’m just trying to paint a picture.”
“Trust me, I see the picture. What’s your idea?” he asked, shifting to cross his arms across his chest.
His massive biceps flexed, and while I was sure the posture was supposed to convey ease, it did just the opposite. Jack wasn’t sure he bought what I was attempting to sell, and my old tricks wouldn’t close the deal.
“Well, I clerked for Judge Hanlon. Do you know him?” I asked.
It was a stupid question. How would he know Judge Hanlon?
His expression told me he agreed with that assessment, but he still said, “No, I don’t knowJudge Hanlon. Was that him in the courtroom?”
“Yeah, that’s him. Anyway, before he was a judge, he was a big-time personal injury lawyer. Made a fortune.”
