“He’s threatening you,” Jiya finished, sounding out of breath.
“Yeah,” Andrew said hoarsely. “And you. Spice. He knows…”
“He knew where to hit you the hardest.” Jamie supplied, massaging his eye sockets beneath his glasses. “Jiya.”
Andrew could feel Jiya’s stare warming the side of his face, giving him no choice but to turn his head—and if he’d been standing, the ache her features betrayed would have brought him to his knees. “I would never let anything happen to you. I would die first. You know that, right?”
She gulped a breath and nodded, but still appeared unsettled. God, of course she was. She was trying to go about her life and he stood at the fringes, doing his best to fuck it up. She was probably wishing she’d never associated herself with him.
“What is he forcing you to do with these threats?” Olive asked, her light brows drawn together. Halfway through her sentence, Rory pulled her into his lap and held her close.
“He’s having me transport goods from a supplier to a distributer.”
Jamie blanched. “What kind of goods?”
“No guns or drugs, thank God. Not yet, anyway. He sent me to a location in Jersey. I picked up the truck, drove it to a second location and walked. But Handler failed to mention he owed the middle men some money and they wanted to send a message.” He gestured to his face. “There was at least eight guys. I couldn’t fend them off for long.”
“Goddammit, Andrew,” Rory rasped. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Jamie said, his skin turning chalky. “I know what that feels like.”
Marcus pulled Jamie’s chair closer and took his hand, bringing it to his mouth. Kissing the gold wedding band there. “We need a solution, Andrew. You can’t do it again.”
“No. You can’t,” Jiya echoed in a husky voice that made Andrew wish like hell he could touch her. “A cop is blackmailing you. That’s not supposed to happen. There has to be some way out. A way to make him leave you alone.”
“If there is, I don’t know what it is,” Andrew said. “I’m stuck. And I’ll do this shit forever as long as he leaves everyone at this table alone.”
“Except you, right?” Rory spat. “Fuck that, A. We’ll find a way out together. And in the meantime, I’ll come with you on the runs—”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Rory, that’s not happening,” Jamie interjected with a firm headshake. “You’ve already got one strike on your record, man. I’ll go with him—”
Marcus burst out laughing. “Over my dead fucking body, Jamie.” The newlyweds had a stare down that lasted all of five seconds before Marcus leaned in and kissed Jamie hard on the mouth. Then he lifted his left shirt sleeve and made his triceps dance. “Pretty sure I’m the ideal candidate to go along as the muscle. End of discussion. I’ll even let you have control of the radio.”
Olive giggled into Rory’s chest.
“Hey.” Rory slapped the table to get Andrew’s attention. “Bottom line, we’ll figure this out. All right? You’re not doing this alone anymore. And you’re not selling the house to isolate yourself—”
“Selling the house?” Jiya shot up in her chair. “You’re selling the house?”
Andrew wouldn’t lie to her. “Thinking about it, yeah.”
Now it was Andrew and Jiya’s turn for a stare down. Chairs started to scuffle back around them and some casual whistling ensued as his brothers and their significant others left the dining room, leaving Andrew and Jiya alone. Alone with Jiya was his idea of heaven on earth, but not being able to touch her—never being able to touch her again—was torturous. It was the annihilation of his sanity. So he sat very still in his chair, bracing for his stability to erode further.
“I don’t hold what you did against you,” she said choppily. “Maybe it’s wrong to say it, but I hated that man for what he did to you. Your mother. Over and over again with no consequences. You reacted. You protected your mother. I just can’t think badly of you for that.” She wet her lips. “Did you think I would? Is that why you’ve stayed away from me all this time?”
“I didn’t want to touch you with blood on my hands, Jiya. You deserve better.”
“I deserve better than a man who shoulders the burden of an entire family? Day in and day out? I deserve better than a man who puts himself in peril so everyone can continue their normal, happy lives? What better man is there? I’d like to meet him.”
“You better have already met him,” Andrew bit out. “You better not have allowed an unworthy man to put a ring on your finger, Jiya. That would be a crime more offensive than mine.”
“Fine.” She pushed to her feet. “Here we go. Let’s talk about the ring.”
Andrew stood, too, his neck bristling. “Good. Talk.”
“I shouldn’t be wearing it. Not when I love you so much.” Her chest shuddered with the admission. “Not when I’ve loved you since I was ten years old.”