Page 59 of Chase
“I don’t give a fuck,” Connor says petulantly. He takes her hands in his. “I want you to quit.”
“No,” she says, “Russell is right. This isn’t your choice. And if we’re wrong about the criminal elements of this, I don’t want to give up on a career I love. My training is going well.”
Connor’s fist smashes down on the glass table; it vibrates beneath the impact. He closes his eyes then throws his head back before pushing himself out of his seat and storms around the room.
I don’t know why he’s surprised by her rebuke; we already had the same discussion in the penthouse, and her response was identical. Maybe he was looking for support from the others but looking at them. it isn’t forthcoming. They know as well as me how beneficial her being there could be for us in stopping this.
“We’ll protect her,” Hunter tells him.
I watch my brother crumble as the thoughts of what could go wrong hit him. The panic on his features is something I've not seen since we were kids, when my father decided to distribute punishment on one of us and made the other watch.
“How can we?” he shoots back. “We have no real idea what’s going on. But from experience, we all know that there is no corruption without evidence. And the little we have indicates something much bigger. Where there’s lawbreaking, there’s danger, and anyone close is at risk.” He stops at Sam’s chair and kneels beside her. His gaze moves around the room, hesitating on each of us. “More than one of us in here has lost someone, temporarily or permanently, to our enemies.”
Harrison stands and walks over to him, then places a hand on his shoulder. The men look at each other. Silent acknowledgment passes between them as to what his words mean.
“Violet came back,” Harrison says softly. “We won. She’s here and safe with us.”
“But Connie wasn’t so lucky,” Connor replies, glancing at Damon, who swallows. “She lost her life because of the man she loved.”
“That’s harsh,” I snap at my brother. “You can’t blame McKinney for her death. The only people responsible are the man who ordered the hit and the bastard who pulled the trigger.”
“It’s okay. I feel responsible,” Damon mutters, and my sympathy grows again. I used to hold him responsible too, until I accepted that no matter what we do, our loved ones don’t deserve to pay the price for our actions. That said, we cannot control the choices of others—evil people do evil things. They take revenge in the most devastating ways. We can only hope the good we do outweighs the bad we create, and in the end, the results are something we can live with. I hope my friend can learn to do so.
“You shouldn’t,” I tell him. “Villains will always be malicious. And we’ll continue to fight it.”
“All I am saying is.” Connor’s focus moves back to the woman whose hands he’s now holding. “I don’t want you to be unnecessarily put in harm's way. I couldn’t bear it if you’re hurt in all this. Now that we’re aware of the situation, we can get involved. But my involvement will put a target on your back as my partner.” My skin prickles with the word “partner.” He has never referred to anyone in that way.
Sam stills, then takes a deep breath. “I’m already in the middle,” she says. “And I’m more than capable of looking after myself. Let me help you all.”
Hunter stands and walks around to join us all, only leaving Damon on the opposite side of the table. “Stand up,” he says to Samantha, and she glances at me. I nod, unsure where he is going with this, but I trust him enough to allow it. Sam rises, Connor following and standing at her side. “How do we know you aren’t involved, nurse?” She blinks at him, startled by the accusation. Connor opens his mouth to protest, and Hunter raises his hand sharply to silence him.
We all watch in shock as Samantha suddenly drops to her knees, arms covering her face. Connor and I glance at one another, then he lowers himself down beside her, taking her hands and encouraging her to rise.
“Hunter wasn’t going to hit you,” he tells her. I push myself up as well to join them.
“Maybe he wasn’t,” I say. “But I want to know who fucking has hit you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers, her eyes firmly fixed on the floor. I reach out and touch her elbow, and wary eyes flick to me.
“Yes, it fucking does. I want a name. All this other shit can wait.” She pauses again, uncertainty painted blatantly on her face. “Trouble…” I warn. “I want his—”
“We want his,” Connor corrects me.
“Name. Now,” my brother and I demand in unison. We glance at one another and smile. In this situation, we’re one hundred percent together. Our words hit the air perfectly in sync. Samantha’s shoulders sag; she knows we won’t give this up without a name.
“Jasper,” she replies quietly. “Jasper Hastings.”
Chapter twenty-four
Westminster Financial Solutions, City of London
Connor
Russell and I sit in my car opposite the accountancy firm Samantha’s ex-boyfriend owns. Jasper Hastings is well known in the London financial district, having grown his business from nothing over the past ten years. I’ve met him occasionally at various charity events. He’s always the man dripping in women and waving one hundred pound notes at the auction.
Once Samantha relented and offered up the name of the bastard who’d hit her, my brother and I made a silent agreement to teach him a lesson. It turned out Hastings was a regular at Guilty Pleasures and had taken a liking to Sam. That admiration quickly turned to obsession when she agreed to go on a few dates with him. The locations were always private, and their relationship a secret. He explained the requirement away with wanting to maintain his privacy.
After six months of dating, he demanded she stop dancing. He wanted her to move into an apartment provided by him and be his on-call girlfriend—not that he took her anywhere. She told us she was forever seeing him in pictures at events, but she was never invited. When she refused, he began to apply pressure.