Sutton

Days later, I'm still reeling from what Thomas told Dominique about the guy creeping around our building. I need to sort out a plan to get across town to that address I connected with the motorcycle's license plate. I realize that's probably a terrible idea, but I feel like now more than ever, I have to know if it's Nicolai who is hanging around our building.

And find out why.

But Dominique is constantly glued to my side, like we're actually attached at the hip. This time, it's after she's just snuck me out. This time to a boutique down the street. Something's up with her and buying me stuff. I haven't figured it out yet, but I will.

I look over at her with wide eyes. "Dom, what are you doing?"

"Just coming with you to your room. Is that a big deal?"

My eyebrows dip. "I—uh, no? You just normally don't follow me so closely. Is everything okay?"

When we get upstairs, she relaxes a bit.

"Yeah, I just—what Thomas said the other day made me so nervous. A guy outside the building literally asking if you still lived here? Trying to get in?" She shudders. "It's weird. I just want to make sure, ya know...there's no one up here."

I widen my eyes as we reach my door and yank my hand away from the handle. "Do you really think there's someone in here?"

She places her hand on her pistol at her side and moves me away from the door. "No, but there's only one way to find out. Stay behind me."

I hold my breath as she creaks open the door, and we both ease inside. As my bed comes into view, I see nothing out of place, no one lurking in the corners or in the bathroom doorway.

But at my desk, there's a man sitting in the chair, one ankle propped on his other knee, hands folded in his lap.

I let out a yelp and he says, "Did you have a nice day, Sutton?"

It's Jason.

Dom lets out an annoyed sigh and releases the hold on her gun, looking back at me and rolling her eyes.

"What the fuck," she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Jason, you scared the shit out of us!" I exclaim, pressing my palm to my chest, trying to calm my pounding heart.

"Well, join the club. How do you think I felt today when we got home, and you were nowhere to be found? Dom, where have you been?"

"Hey, I don't answer to you, Jason," she starts, and I hold up my hands between them.

"Stop. Don't argue, please. I can't take it." I move to the side of my bed and perch on the edge so I'm facing Jason. "I'm sorry I scared you. We walked down the street to a boutique. That's it. What about Dad? Is he mad?"

Dom stands next to me, never moving from her protective stance. I appreciate it more than she knows.

Jason is fuming right now, and even though he would never hurt me, he looks like he is seriously about to lose his shit.

Jason drops his foot flat on the floor and leans over so we are eye to eye. "Do you really think if your father realized you were gone he wouldn't have been waiting at the door for you to get home? Or better yet, have the entire NYPD looking for you?"

"What did you say to—"

"When we got home, he asked where you were, and before he could freak out, I told him that Dominique had to take you to a doctors' appointment. Thankfully, he's so distracted he didn't notice if your car was gone," he says. "I had no fucking clue where you were. I texted you and you didn't answer. I just assumed you were together because Dom would never leave you by yourself."

"No," she growls. "I wouldn't. I wish you would trust me to do my fucking job, Kincaid."

"I do trust you. It's her I'm not quite sure about right now." My face flushes as he turns his attention to me. "Sutton, I just asked you for one thing. Just one. To stay in this apartment. And you couldn't do that."

Anger, amplified by the guilt I feel about causing him to worry, bubbles up within me and I get to my feet, pacing at the foot of my bed.

"Jason, this is not fair! Dominique is armed. She's my fucking bodyguard. Why can't she take me places like a normal person?! I mean, I'm already not normal when I need a bodyguard to go shopping!"

Jason gets up and places his palms on my shoulders, halting my pacing. "I know. It sucks. I told you that before. I do understand."

"No," I say, shoving his hands off my shoulders and pushing him away from me. "You don't understand. You've never been practically imprisoned in your own home for your entire life. Told you can't do anything you want to do even when you're an adult with your own money and job."

Tears stream down my cheeks now, and I can't even be bothered to wipe them away. "Dom, tell him he's wrong about this."

Dominique looks down at her hands, twisting them nervously in her lap, but she doesn't say anything.

"Dom!" I exclaim, and she finally looks up.

"Sutton, I—I'm sorry, but I have to agree with Jason on this one."

My lips part and the betrayal slices through me. "What?"

"I'm sorry, babe. As your bestie, I'd like to pummel him in the face right now," she seethes, shooting him a glare, to which he just rolls his eyes. "But as your bodyguard, I have to say he's right. There's too much going on to be letting you go out and about for no good reason. Today was the last time I'd planned to take you out for a while. That's why I bought you so much stuff. Because I knew it would be a long time before we got to go out again."

I look between them, and I am speechless for a moment. The two people who have always looked out for me, Jason for practically my whole life and Dominique since she walked into it, and they're both against me in this.

"I thought you all wanted me to have my freedom. That you wanted me to be able to go out and follow my dreams, at least a little. If you won't even let me go shopping, how are you ever going to let me go—" I freeze, my blood turning to ice in my veins. "Wait."

Jason takes a tentative step toward me. "Sutton, hang on a second before you—"

"Before I what? Before I freak out?" I ask, my heart rate spiking. "It's a little late for that. Go ahead, Jason." My stomach turns to stone as I realize what's about to happen. "Ruin it for me."

"Sutton, that's not fair," Dominique interrupts, and I whirl around to face her.

"You knew? Whatever the fuck is going on here, you knew?"

"I'm your bodyguard, Sutton! I know things before you do sometimes; it's just the way things go," she says, and while I know she's right, I'm still hurt.

I turn to Jason, holding back the tears threatening to betray me and all my bravado.

"I'm not going to get to be in the orchestra for Moulin Rouge, am I? Rehearsals are supposed to start this week," I whisper, and when he shakes his head with a sad expression on his face, I can practically feel my heart crack one last time in my chest.

That's all it can take.

I had it. In my hands. Just a piece of the freedom I've longed for as long as I can remember. And now the only pieces I'm holding are the shattered fragments of the hope I'd allowed myself to have.

Shaking my head, I turn on my heel and walk toward the door.

"Wait, Sutton, please," Dominique calls out, but I hold up my hand without looking back.

"I can't right now. I know it's not your fault. I know it's Dad doing this shit. But right now, I just want to be alone. I'm going up to the roof for some fresh air, that's it. I swear."

And without waiting for permission or even confirmation that they've heard me, I leave my room as the tears finally break free.

***

A few hours later, I'm lying on a floatie in the middle of the deep end of our rooftop pool, thinking about the downturn today has taken, when Jason walks out onto the deck.

"Sutton?"

Jason's voice is soft, tentative, like he's approaching a frightened animal. I sit up and push my sunglasses onto my head so he can see my face.

"It's okay, Jay. I'm sorry about before, I just...I can't believe I finally got the opportunity to do something I have always wanted, then it just gets fucking ripped away from me like that."

It's not okay, but I know staying angry at everyone won't change my situation. I'm part of The Ring—no matter how badly I want a normal life, I'll never have one.

He kicks off his shoes and rolls up his jeans so he can sit on the side of the pool, dipping his feet inside and swinging them gently back and forth.

"I know. And I'm so fucking sorry, Sutton. That's not how I wanted to tell you. In fact, I asked your dad to let me tell you so I could break it to you gently, but of course, you have to be so damn observant," he says, and I roll my eyes.

"It wasn't that hard. I could see it coming a mile away."

This isn't the first time, or the last time, I'll be disappointed by my father.

I sigh and slide off the float, swimming over to where he sits. I prop my arms up on the side of the pool, peering up at him. "What's going on, Jason? It's got to be something big."

Jason nods once and looks down at his lap. "Xavier didn't want to do this to you. He's been agonizing over it for days, ever since the ambush on that night."

I swallow hard and chew on my lip. "So they definitely were after me."

"We confirmed it."

"But why? I didn't do anything to them."

"Of course you didn't, princess. But whoever they are, they're mad at your dad, Anthony, and probably me too. And you work for us. You do the books. So—"

"So I know about the money. All the secrets my dad holds so close to the vest. So if I got abducted...they'd make me spill the things I know."

Jason lifts one shoulder in a shrug. When he looks down at me, my heart squeezes in my chest and something in his voice makes me shiver. "I can't lose you, Sutton. You mean too much to me—to all of us."

Fuck. I know he's right. Even if Dom were to go with me every time, it's too dangerous to go to rehearsals every week. There are too many variables outside of our control.

"Listen, let me make it up to you," Jason says, trying his best to lighten the mood. "Or at least do something nice for you."

I raise my brows. "What do you have in mind?"

"Let me take you out to dinner tonight."

My brows go even higher. "Take me out? Like..."

"To eat...food? What did you—" His eyes widen as he realizes my implication. "You thought I meant like a date? No, I—Sutton, why—"

The way he fumbles his words is endearing; Jason is usually so well-spoken and never gets rattled.

I lay a hand on his knee and smirk, enjoying the show. "Relax, Jason. I was kidding. I'd love to go to dinner. And let's make Dad pay for it. It's the least he can do for ruining not only my day but, like, crushing my dreams."

The joke is half-hearted at best; I am crushed, but I'm trying to take it in stride. I force a smile, trying to shove down my disappointment.

"Deal. Meet me downstairs at 7?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

Reaching up, I put out my hand like I'm ready to shake on our deal. But when his hand presses into mine, I tug him hard into the pool with me with a giant splash.

I swim away from him as he breaks through the surface, laughing my ass off as he wipes his face, sputtering and shaking out his hair. "What the hell, Sutton?"

"I just thought you might want to get the showering part out of the way," I say through snorting giggles. He starts prowling toward me and I yelp, scrambling backward into the shallow end. "Wait, wait—"

"What, you don't want me to give you a little help?" he asks with a smirk on his full lips. I know he's playing with me though, by the sparkle in his blue eyes. When we were younger—he was a teenager, and I was just a kid—he'd always pick me up and throw me into the pool.

I'd beg him to do it because my dad wouldn't. He was always too scared I'd get hurt.

"No, no," I say, holding my hands out in front of me, but he's too fast. He snatches me around the waist and lifts me out of the water as if I weigh nothing and tosses me as high as he can into the deep end.

"Shit!" My scream is muffled as I hit the water, and when I come up for air, Jason is right there to make sure I'm okay, just as he always was.

"You good?" he asks, and I can see he's holding back laughter.

"Yeah, asshat," I say, shoving him playfully. "I was not prepared for the Sutton Cannonball."

"Well, I wasn't prepared to go swimming in my jeans and button-down, to be fair."

"Touché. Let's go, I need to start getting ready for this big mystery dinner."

We both climb out of the pool and immediately, I start to shiver. The sun is hiding behind the clouds; it's already going on 5:00 and the breeze is starting to chill the air.

"You're cold. Let me get you a towel," Jason says, and it isn't more than a couple seconds before warm terrycloth is being wrapped around my shoulders. He turns me to face him and pulls the fabric around to my front, tugging it closed near my collarbone.

I reach up to grab it, and he moves his hands to my arms, helping to dry my skin. I pull the towel tighter around me and smile up at him.

"Thank you," I say, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"Better?"

"Yeah," I say, rolling my lips between my teeth. "Much. Thank you for explaining things the best you could."

He slings his arm around me as we head for the elevator for our penthouse. "Anytime. I'm just glad to see you smiling. Let's continue that pattern, yeah?"

When I smile this time, it's not forced.

***

"You look beautiful tonight," Jason says as we approach the door to the restaurant, which turns out to be a steakhouse I've wanted to try for months.

I grin and smooth my short, purple bodycon dress. "You've said as much. Like, three times now."

He places his hand on my lower back as he opens the door and ushers me inside. "Have I?"

"It's clear you haven't been out with a girl in a while," I tease.

He starts to say something, but we've reached the host stand. "Welcome to The Wolf's Den. Reservation?"

"Two for Kincaid," Jason says, and something about the way he says it with his hand still on the small of my back makes me feel...weird. He's so touchy-feely today. And now his hand is on my back, and it feels...I don't know how to explain it.

"Of course, sir, right this way."

We follow the host to the back of the restaurant to our table, a booth with a single candle in the center, along with a crystal vase holding a rose and baby's breath. My stomach twists, my nerves crackling.

Coupled with everything else, this feels a lot like a date.

That feeling intensifies when Jason slides into the booth and pulls me down next to him.

"Wait, what—"

"There's only one booth. I hate these kinds of tables where only one person gets the comfortable seat. This way, we both get the cushioned seat; it's fair," he says with a shrug.

I put a bit of distance between us and push out a laugh. "Fair enough."

In need of a distraction from this awkward seating arrangement and the sinking feeling that Jason took my question about this being a date as flirtation, I pass him a menu.

"What are you thinking you want for dinner?" I ask, focusing on the list of entrees, my leg bouncing up and down under the table.

"Ribeye. And I know you like New York Strip."

"That sounds good."

A chipper, friendly voice speaks up from next to me. "Hi, I'm Rosemary, I'll be your server. What can I get you all to drink?"

We place our orders, and after she walks away, Jason slides a bit closer to me and slips his arm around my shoulders, resting it on the back of the booth.

I swallow and look over at him as he says, "I really am sorry about the orchestra. If there was any way I could convince your dad, I would have. I tried, but at the end of the day, I knew he was right, at least about your safety."

My lips turn up in the smallest of smiles. "It's not your fault. I appreciate you bringing me here. It's nice to have someone to bring me out and spend time with me." I don't have to force the words from my mouth; they're true, even if things are suddenly feeling a little bit off.

"You deserve it..."

The rest of his words fade into the background as I glance over his shoulder, my gaze landing on a man walking past our table. A man that is so familiar to me.

The idea of seeing him is so foreign that my brain nearly rejects it.

He's tall, close to 6'5" at least, with dark hair that falls just so over his forehead and eyes that I can tell from here are the most gorgeous shade of haze. His sculpted muscles are hidden under a tight black button up and dark jeans.

Shit. He's here.

I don't know how the hell it's possible, but he is.

The man I haven't been able to stop wondering about since the night of the ambush, and the one person I've ever allowed close enough to break my heart.

Fuck.