"I see now that it wasn't her fault, King." Drawing in a deep breath, I repeated what I had already admitted to Denielle. "It was easier to blame them than accept my guilt in telling Ken to run or that it was all a coincidence."
The silence between us elongated. "This was no one's fault but your abusive, son of a bitch father's. He came after you. You protected your sister."
The lump in my throat made it hard to speak. "You're right."
There is another pause. "So, what changed your mind?"
Do I tell her what I witnessed? I swipe my palm over my mouth, pinching my bottom lip between my thumb and forefinger.
"I got to see a different side of Denielle." Denielle needed to come clean to Wes first. Letting King in before her husband found out felt like betrayal.
"Can you be a little less cryptic?" There was no anger in her tone.
"It's Denielle's story, Monroe." Using the name she went by when we met was my way of telling her how much she meant to me. Addressing Denielle by her last name was a means to execute my dominance and distaste over her. With King, it had always been the opposite.
"Okay. Please be careful. I like Denielle. She's great, and Wes will kill me if he hears me say this, but something isn't right. I know when a person is hiding something, and I don't want you to get hurt." I pictured her chewing on her bottom lip—a habit she had when she was giving someone the truth despite the possibility of it hurting their feelings.
"I will. Plus, we have some additional security on the property these days."
"Explain!" The order was clear. This woman was—well, used to be—the only one allowed to demand anything from me. Now there were two, which is still a surreal concept.
I had no choice but to fill her in on that part of what had been going on. By the time I finished, I had spoken for minutes, and my mouth felt metallic and parched.
"Does Wes know about this?" Of course her first concern was for her husband. He and Denielle were as close as King and I were.
"I have no idea." I doubted Denielle had told him, but I couldn't know for sure.
"Bax," she breathed out. "I can't keep this from him. Is this Jenn person trustworthy? A cleaner? For real?"
"She is. And you do what you have to do. Den will rip me a new one, but—"
"Den?" Her shrill inquiry told me my blunder. "Since when do you call her Den?"
"Well, I actually have been calling her baby, too," I admitted sheepishly. And it felt good. Great, even.
"WHAT? Marcus Baxter, what the fuck? Now I'm starting to understand whatdifferent sideyou meant. Jesus, Bax. Wes is going to fucking blow a gasket." Padding sounds in the background told me she was pacing.
"Your husband can go sit on a cactus and rotate for all I care."
That made her laugh. "I know, Bax, sorry. This is a ton to take in. I saw you four weeks ago, and—"
"You know yourself how much can change in four weeks." That was a low blow, but I was not going to have her or Wes judge my sex life or relationship—definitely not after how theirs started.
"OK, shutting up now. I'm just…wow. You and I will have a very long conversation when I get there this week."
"I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Monroe," I chuckled. "I'll see you Friday, 'kay?"
"Yes, we'll get in midday. See you then."
When I didn't findDenielle in the guesthouse after my shift, I took a quick shower before heading back. I spent most of the day and evening downstairs in the security office, reviewing paperwork and discussing a new recruit with George. The McGuires were home, so we didn't have to keep the constant surveillance up. The property feed played on the screens, which Ben monitored, and we would know if anyone was coming or going.
Striding into an empty kitchen,I follow the voices to one of the living rooms, where I find Lilly on her laptop, Rhys playing on his phone next to her, and Jenn—
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Jenn sits on a white tarp, one leg straight, the other bent in front of her, cleaning a rifle. Not just any rifle. A Bergara HMR Premier 6.5 PRC. In the middle of the fucking living room.
She peers between me and her task innocently. "What does it look like? I went to the range after dropping your girl off."