Page 27 of Bleeding Heart

“He what?” I gasp.

The other girls agree the images were awful. Sloan shrugs without apology, making me doubt she’s forgiven him.

“You can’t change Jake. These men never do anything they don’t want to do, and they have no remorse for certain things they do. Yours especially,” Kimber advises.

“Mine?”

“Jake’s a hard nut to crack,” Holly interrupts. “If he’s really stubborn, I suggest the rum on the top shelf at the end of the bar.”

“The label has a ship on it?” I query, surprised.

“One step ahead.” She casts me a glowing smile. “You’ve got this… if Jake is who you want. However, if you can’t manage the bastard, like Kimber said, good luck getting him to leave you alone.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I laugh, uncomfortable with their candor.

There are three women, shining a bright light on Jake’s deepest flaws.

“Jake may be an asshole. But he’s our asshole,” Kimber says.

Holly adds, “In a perverse way, he loves us, too.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sloan chortles, but her expression softens. “Jake and I don’t get along. But he is important to Carver and to my closest friends. The loyalty he’s shown them makes it easier to set aside our differences.”

The other two ladies’ sighs make me certain that’s not the case. Jake’s friends are wise enough to keep him and Sloan in separate corners so that they don’t duke it out. Their concern highlights all of the things I haven’t learned about Jake and everything I try to ignore when I let my feeble heart take the lead.

“FYI, we actually don’t expect you to answer about the blackmail. Everyone is entitled to their secrets, Paisley. We just wanted you to understand we’re already on your side. Because you’re good for him and, when Jake finally figures out he’s in love with you, he’s going to fight it tooth and nail.”

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Cary and Carver’s conversation ebbs almost as soon as Holly ducks down the hall towards the ladies’ room. The table grows quiet enough that my ears pick up the clinking of silverware used by the occupants of the few tables spaced away from ours in the same section of the restaurant. My friends and I regard one another, not saying what each of us is thinking: Their wives are ganging up on my girlfriend in the bathroom.

Although I’m not worried that Paisley can’t hold her own with the mill girls, it still leaves a sinking sensation in the pit of my belly that Kimber, Holly, and Sloan are testing her.

Cary clears his throat. “Do you only do your own dirty work, or is what you do for hire?”

Trig sips the last of his bourbon.

I roll the ice in mine.

It’s a ballsy question for such a public space. But we’re all aware that Trig dug up plenty for me to blackmail Cary’s father with before the shitbag kicked the bucket. Not that Cary cared then or even cares now that I could take down the man who raised him. Rex Stanton made an enemy out of Cary as a boy.

“That all depends,” I reply in a bored tone.

“On what, exactly?”

“On how it affects Holly.” Trig bends his head, speaking into his empty glass.

“It wouldn’t. In this case, she’s aware there are things I’m not telling her.”

“Good for her keeping you on a tight leash,” I mock.

“We trust each other.”

“So who don’t you… trust?” Trig bites.

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