“And if you were, what would you tell them?”
“That if they really gave a damn about me, they’d let me figure out what to do after my entire fucking world crashed. And if they couldn’t do that, I’d tell them to get the fuck away.”
“I wish I could do that. I’ve chosen avoidance.”
He flashed an adorable, boyish grin. “That’s always an option, too, Vanessa. There’s no way to know what you need when it comes to grief. Find something that works and stick with it until it stops working.”
“You really think so?”
He nodded. “I know so. Trust me. I’m wise beyond my years.”
Another laugh escaped me, and I shook my head. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the ride, Emmett.” Feeling bold, I leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “And the advice.”
“Anytime. Hearing you laugh is music to my ears.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I slipped out of the car and made my way inside my big house and got ready for bed. When I fell asleep that night, it was the first time in months I didn’t dream about Lance.
Chapter Nine
Emmett
I was the last one to arrive at Ashby Manor for the meeting because I slept for shit after a late night with Vanessa, or was it an early morning? I woke up too late to have breakfast or coffee and make it to this meeting on time. After the fight with Terry, my head felt like the National Guard was running drills at double-time behind my eyeballs, but thanks to my bob and weave technique, he hadn’t left a mark on my face.
“Morning,” I growled at all the familiar faces seated around the dining room table that was already loaded with breakfast foods.
“Nice of you to join us,” Virgil grunted and stole a slice of bacon from Kat’s fingers.
“It is, isn’t it?” I made my way over to the big pot of coffee brewing on the sideboard and filled half of one of the fancy oversized mugs that Sadie favored. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t know yet,” Terry said, staring at me closely through his sunglasses. Carefully. As if he was trying to figure out where my head was. Or if I was going to take another swing at him.
Well, good luck with that because I had no fucking clue where my head was either. We took our mugs of coffee and walked to our respective neutral corners.
Five minutes later, Sadie strolled in, looking very much unlike herself in jeans, a red blazer and matching heels. From the moment I met her, she’d always favored the uptown look that mostly consisted of Chanel suits, tailored blouses, and five-figure purses.
“Good morning, all,” she said, skimming the room without addressing anyone in particular.
A smattering of early morning greetings met Sadie as she crossed the length of the dining room to grab a mug of coffee before she took her seat at the head of the table.
“Where you been, Ma?”
Leave it to Jasper to get right down to the point. I was grateful though, and he was the only one who could dare get away with talking to her like that.
Sadie took her time answering, her keen green eyes staring straight ahead at her oldest son before she took a long, slow sip from her mug.
“I have been busy and that’s the reason for this meeting.”
Jasper growled again. “It was supposed to have taken place yesterday,” his voice low and slightly menacing.
She waved his words off. “I know but I needed some time to verify a few things before I brought it to all of you.”
It was a good enough answer for me, but I could see Terry, Virgil and Jasper shaking their heads angrily.
“Savannah Rhymer is not with The Crusaders.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Kat asked with wonder in her voice.
“Because this is what I do. Gather intel we might need at a later date. And this intel required me to meet with Ronan for lunch.”
“You met with that old fuck for lunch?” Jasper was up and out of his seat in a flash. “What were you thinking?”
As was her way, Sadie shrugged and leaned back in her chair to sip her coffee as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But I knew better. I could see the tension around her eyes and lips. Whatever news she had; it wasn’t good.
“Ronan and I needed to speak privately. He thought we killed his precious daughter and wanted to bargain for her body.” She laughed. “Wanted to give her a proper Christian burial.”
“And you believe him?” Jasper shook his head in disgust. “He could have killed you. What were you thinking?”
“Relax, son,” she said, not offended by his assumption. “Are any of you familiar with the Black Jacks?”
Virgil responded. “No, who are the Black Jacks?”