“I hope not, babe. I really fucking hope not. He’s my brother and I’d trust him with my life, but…”
“I know this looks bad, Jace, but don’t lose your faith in him. If he spilled his guts it must be for a reason. They could be…”
Torturing him, I think when she doesn’t finish the thought. Yeah, that crossed my mind, too, and I almost hope that is the answer, because if Roman went and blabbed about Lynn, if he’s a traitor, I’m afraid of what Jared will do to his own brother if he finds out.
I’m not saying a word right now, and thank God the guy is too wrapped up in worrying about Paulette to have given anything else much thought.
Pop and Wyatt are handling damage control while Ma makes a breakfast we never go to, and I’m almost at peace with this shit when Trace’s cell phone rings an hour later. I jump at the sound.
“Hello?”
“Have you made your choice, Tracy?”
I feel her tense and rub her back soothingly as Miah nods slowly, letting her know that it’s okay.
“Yes. I’ll tell you, but how do I know you won’t go back on your word and keep Paulie after I tell you?”
The mechanical laughter echoes over the line, and I feel Trace shiver and tremble at the eerie-sounding cackle.
“You don’t, I suppose. You’ll just have to trust me, little Trace. You tell me where she is and I’ll leave your friend somewhere you can get her. Scout’s promise.”
Trace looks ready to start cussing and I squeeze her thigh in warning, letting her know that it’s okay. Antagonizing this prick is not a good idea right now.
We need to get Paulette out safely and then we can worry about the repercussions and keeping Lynn locked away.
“She’s a resident of the Briarview Mental Hospital in Austin, Texas. Now tell me where to get Paulie, asshole,” she hisses into the phone, her eyes closing in relief when a text comes through with an address.
“Thank you for your cooperation, Tracy. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
The line dies with a click and I’m not even halfway up and off the sofa before Jared sprints out of the room, Miah and Wyatt hot on his heels.
We all hit the drive and dive in after Jared, just barely avoiding being run over when the idiot just starts the engine and puts his foot flat before we’re even in the damned car.
“Jace!”
I look back as Trace comes flying out the door and wave with regret, knowing that she’s likely to be pissed that she’s being left behind.
“Jared.”
“Not yet, Jace. Just let me get my girl first. Just let me get my girl.”
Epilogue
Jared
The worst part about knowing that I love Paulette Hayes is the knowledge that the woman I love is a traitor and a liar to boot. I’m going after her after hearing her pain over that phone line because I have no other choice here, but that doesn’t mean I’ve fallen for anyone’s shit.
My brothers think I’m too fucked right now to know the signs and put two and two together, but I’m not. No matter how unsettled I am by the thought of Paulie being hurt and in danger, even I know that the narc must have been Roman.
Yeah, Roman. My cousin. My brother. A piece of my soul that now feels as if it’s been ripped to shreds and left by the wayside.
He’s the only other person who knew about Lynn, so I’m more than positive the guy has gone rogue and joined the enemy.
For that, I’d beat the shit out of him and make him suffer.
For knowing and being involved in whatever they did to Paulie, I might just kill him with my bare hands.
Sure, I believe she’s one of them and I’m pissed and hurt, but that does not mean I am down with anyone hurting her so bad that I felt her pain over that phone line.
I’m going to go get my girl and make sure she’s okay before I punish her for this betrayal. And then I’ll lock her to my side and make her regret ever leaving me for those murderous traitors.
I’m not one to love easily, but once I do it doesn’t just quit. I love Paulie Hayes, and traitor or not, she’s my woman and I’m keeping her. It’s up to her to see the error of her ways and make it up to me. And make it up she will.
If she’s still alive.
***
Paulie
I think I must be dying as they stop the van with a screech of tires, grab me by the arms and legs, and start swinging me like a sack of potatoes. When I have enough momentum they let me go. For the briefest, most glorious second, I’m floating and not cognisant of the pain screaming through every fiber of my being.
I’m bruised and hurt almost everywhere on my body after days of hits and kicks and punches so hard, I felt as if one more might kill me on the spot.