“I think she’s gonna ambush me. I don’t really wanna go, but she’ll get all pissy about it and try harder.” Mumbling more to myself than Bruiser, I heave a tired sigh; I hadn’t even seen Jackie, and she exhausted me. “I’m just gonna go like this, so if she makes a big deal about it, I won’t have to feel like I need to ride it out because I put effort into it.”
“You’re sexier in your painting clothes anyway, baby.” He smirked sexily, slipping his phone into his jean pocket. “Want me to tag along?”
“No, but if I’m gonna be going to the Portsmouth, I’ll get you something to go.” I frowned darkly; Portsmouth was too expensive for my blood. Their appetizers were, like, twenty bucks! Bruiser chuckled to draw my attention, pulling out his wallet to hand me his debit card. My face twisted beyond my control, but I didn’t protest as I wandered to my room to grab my purse and keys. “What do you want me to get you?”
“Their fajitas are endless, right? Get me both of those.” His call from the living room tugs up my mouth and memories flood my mind’s eye as I drop onto the foot of the bed. I shove my feet into my sneakers, not bothering with socks, before retying my hair high up on my head. Foreboding opened a pit in my stomach, and I frowned as my memories turned dark.
“Jackie’s been complaining the whole time, but I guess not many people agree with her if she wants to have a face-to-face conversation.” Speaking up, I emerged from the short hallway to cast Bruiser a questioning look. “I should put my foot down, shouldn’t I?”
“Your sister’s a pushy, demanding, and slightly controlling bitch, but it’s pretty obvious it’s because she loves you. I think, if nothing else, you can always tell her that if this is a mistake, you’ll acknowledge you were wrong and tell her she was right. People like her love being told they were right.” Smiling broadly, I thoroughly enjoyed Bruiser’s conflicted expression before he shrugged carelessly. “Either way, you need to tell her to shut up if she doesn’t like it. You’ve already told her to tone it down, or you won’t wanna see her anymore. The next step would be backing up your threat. I think she thinks you won’t do it because her intentions are good, but the fact of the matter is intent only matters so much, and her doing what she’s doing the way she is, is more telling.”
“Um . . . okay. That’s a lot of words for an ‘actions speak louder than words’ kind of guy.” He rolled his eyes with a chuff, and I giggle a little as I shoulder my purse. “I’ll call you and tell you what happens.”
“Or you could just tell me when you come back. Give me some time to prepare.” Reaching to elbow him, I breeze by as Bruiser shoots me a shit-eating smirk.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nicole
“Oh, Jackie!” Holding up my hand, I waved to get my sister’s attention, and anxiety seared through me when she turned. She wasn’t smiling, didn’t even look upset, and I gripped my purse straps tightly with both hands. Walking up to her, I held my breath as my heartbeat wildly against my ribs. “What’s up with that face? Did something happen?”
“Let’s wait and sit before we talk.” Clutching a glittery tote tighter when she spoke, Jackie frowned at me as a fire began to emerge in her eyes. Whatever it is, she’s pissed. I can’t open my mouth before the hostess calls us, and I followed my sister to our table on the terrace. The string lights made the atmosphere intimate, but to me, it was ominous.
I knew the terraces and balconies were where people went for special occasions, but this one wasn’t good.
Seating myself across from Jackie, I held my purse in my lap as my knees bounced. My legs tightened with foreboding, ready to carry me out of here at the slightest whiff of trouble. Jackie put her bag on the table, pulled out a plain, manilla folder, and slid it across the smooth, stained wood surface. Eyeballing the surprisingly thick folder, I twiddle and pick my fingertips under the table.
“What’s in that?” Jackie pushes the folder closer to me, and the slight breeze picks up the corner. “Jackie . . .”
“Just read it, Nicole.” I tensed, goosebumps sweeping up my arms and across my chest at Jackie’s snap. Sweat slicked my palms as I grab the folder and flip it open stiffly. My heart leaped into my throat at the long, long list of court related records. All of them were from Canada, and the blood drained from my face.
My vision blurred, and I shut the folder before any words became blaringly readable. Setting the folder down before I dropped it, I clenched my hands into tight fists along the smooth surface. Squeezing my eyes shut, blood drummed viciously in my ears, drowning out even my own thoughts. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to breathe, before giving up when nothing forced its way past the lump in my throat.
“I’m not doing this, Jackie.” Rage rasped my tone, my voice shaking as I stood up sluggishly. Jackie opened her mouth, but I held up a trembling, cold palm as her face turned beet red. “If you say one word, I’ll punch you in the face.”
Jackie didn’t like that, but the shocked gasps filtering through my narrowed scope of comprehension were testament that I wasn’t as quiet as I thought I was. Grabbing the folder, I stuff it haphazardly into my purse to turn on my heel and walk into the restaurant. My eyes burned, and my lungs wailed for air as betrayal crushed my heart.
Jackie looked Bruiser up. Could Americans even get Canadian arrest records? Was that
