CHAPTER 17
Riggs
I’m not an overly social guy, so attending Aaron and Clarke’s engagement party is uncomfortable. I’m absolutely on edge, though, waiting to see who Veronica shows up with.
The party is being held in a rented-out restaurant in Scottsdale. It wasn’t a blanket invite to the entire organization, rather only the team and their significant others, a few personal friends of Clarke’s, as well as her extended family. Aaron’s parents are not here, and I’d heard through the grapevine that he doesn’t have a relationship with them. I’m not sure the reason why nor do I need to know. But it is something he and I have in common.
I’m currently hanging out with a group of people who manage to keep the conversation going without my input. Dax and his wife Reagan, Kane and his fiancée Mollie, and to round out the group, Jett and his new girlfriend Emory. For once, Kane and Mollie are not talking about their wedding, which I am sure everyone is thankful for.
“How is Janelle doing?” Reagan asks me when there’s a break in the banter.
Reagan knows about my woes with my younger sister as I had an opportunity to talk to her last month after Dax connected us. She was raised by her brother, a professional hockey player, after their parents died, so she knows about what Janelle’s going through. After that conversation, Reagan and Dax had Janelle and me over for brunch at their house, and Reagan talked to Janelle about how difficult it is to be raised by a brother who doesn’t know how to raise kids and is gone half the time.
They definitely bonded.
Not as bonded as Veronica has become to Janelle, and vice versa. But they spend a lot of time together when Veronica watches her while I’m on road trips, some intermittent afternoons they work together at the bookstore, and the occasional trip out to Grandma Katie’s house.
“She’s doing fantastic,” I tell Reagan. “She loves the new school and seems to have really settled in.”
“It’s fantastic you got Veronica to watch her while you’re traveling,” Emory says. Not surprised she knows. Emory most likely heard from Jett who probably got it from Aaron. It’s the Vengeance gossip mill, but the information being passed is benign, and I don’t care who knows.
Something like that would have pissed me off a few short months ago, but now I manage a genuine smile at Emory. “I’m definitely fortunate to have Veronica.”
Except you don’t have her. She should be showing up here any time now with another guy.
Mollie changes the subject by nodding over at a table where Baden is talking to Emory’s sister, Jenna. “I’m glad to see Jenna came.”
Emory nods, smiling softly at her sister. “Me too. It’s good for her to get out and be social.”
I look at Jenna and Baden sitting together. I’ve met Emory’s sister on one other occasion, and I don’t know what her story is, but she has scars running down her jaw, along her neck, and disappearing into the collar of her shirt. Baden has scars of his own—a large one on his face from temple to jaw and several on his body that came as a result of his attack.
I wonder if they’re bonding over their shared pain.
My attention returns to the conversation. I realize I’ve missed something, but I’m able to pick up on the gist. “She’s not happy with her job. She wants to do print media, but it’s dying an ugly death. She wants to quit, but I’d hate for her to because she’s finally getting out of the house.”
I gather they’re still talking about Jenna. And I don’t know much about the subject, but I do agree print media is dying. Nowadays, most people get their news from an app on their phone.
“Maybe she should do digital media,” I suggest. All eyes come to me, I’m sure surprised that I’m actually joining in conversation. I look at Emory. “You know… she can follow in your footsteps.”
Emory blinks once in surprise and a smile breaks out on her face. “You know, that’s not a bad idea at all.”
Emory chatters away about it, but I immediately tune back out because Veronica is walking through the restaurant, her arm hooked through the arm of the man standing at her side. They look like a fucking Hollywood couple. He’s tall, brawny with near-perfect good looks, flawless fashion, and an air of confidence. She looks like a goddess in a sleeveless black dress that hugs her curves and falls mid-calf. There is a swath of material cut out diagonally across her chest that reveals cleavage, and it’s both sexy and classy at the same time.
My gut burns hot over the way she’s clinging to him.
And then my ears ring as I feel my pulse thumping harder with anger.
Without excusing myself, I step away from the group and move her way. As I walk by the table where Baden and Jenna are sitting, Baden lurches to intercept me. He holds on to the back of his chair and leans in toward me murmuring, “You need to calm down.”
“I am calm,” I grit out.
“Your face says otherwise.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m just going to talk to her.”
“That’s fine.” His stare is intense and slightly worried. “But when you do, keep in mind that it’s pure jealousy spurring you to do so. You need to ask yourself what that tells you and accept things the way they are.”
I glare at my friend. “Cryptic much?”
Baden grins. “You understand me just fine.”
Unfortunately, I do.
Baden has admittedly become my closest friend here, and he knows me as well as anyone does. We’ve become even closer since I told him about Veronica, and I’ve acted as a sounding board for him about the photo lineup he viewed at the police station. He called me after to tell me he was able to identify one of his attackers. However, Sophie wasn’t able to pick him out from the photos that were sent to Pittsburgh. That spelled a whole lot of frustration because there was no way the police could arrest the guy when one victim identified him and the other hadn’t.
The police did, however, manage to get a warrant to tap the suspect’s phone based on Baden’s identification, and they were hoping he’d reveal something incriminating. For now, though, Baden is beyond frustrated and upset as he thought perhaps justice might’ve been within reach.
Yeah… I’ve talked to him about Veronica, and he’s shared his worries with me.
I have to respect what he’s said. I give him a nod, the most I’ll concede that he might know what he’s talking about.
I move away from my friend and move across the room, weaving in and out of people to approach Veronica and her date.
Her eyes widen when she sees me approach. I don’t even spare a glance at her date. “Can I speak to you privately?” I ask politely.
She frowns with confusion but says, “Sure.”
Turning to the man at her side, she pats his arm. “I’ll be right back, Devlin. Why don’t you get us drinks, and I’ll meet you at the bar?”
He flashes her a brilliant smile, gives me an uncertain look, and heads toward the booze. I hope he fucking chokes on it. And what kind of stupid name is Devlin?
I take Veronica by the elbow and escort her through the crowd. I look around, trying to find a dark corner or alcove where we can talk. Frustrated because there are far too many people here, I glance over at the coat check and the clerk sitting there surfing his phone in boredom.