42. Jamison

Two days.

Liam and Rowan had been gone for two whole days.

They disappeared with Klausen, prepared to chase down the information gained, and the lack of communication made her nervous.

Tasked to stay behind and watch over the house, Izzy would let them know everything was fine whenever she had the slightest contact. "I would be upfront with you if it wasn't."

Unable to do anything except feel helpless, Jamison relieved her frustrations with Annabeth and a good workout.

"This is torture." Annabeth's gloved fist punched the pad secured against Jamison's palm. "I'm going to use these on Rowan's face for leaving me worried."

The hit struck with precision, shooting pain directly into Jamison's shoulder. "Take it easy."

Doing the exact opposite, Annabeth hammered into the pads with both fists. "He could be hurt or dead, and I would have no idea because the jackass can't be bothered to text."

"If either of those things happened, you would know." Jamison lowered her hands while Annabeth continued to bounce on her feet. "You're Rowan's person now. They always call you first."

Annabeth's bouncing ceased. "I'm not his person."

"Um, yes, you are." Jamison tapped the strike pad against her friend's forehead. "Stop letting your brain get between you two."

Falling to the mat, Annabeth lay sprawled at her feet. "I can't be anyone's person."

Jamison tossed the pads and laid down with her. "Rowan wants you to be his person."

"He said that?"

"No, but you can see it. The way he looks at you. The way he talks to you. Rowan is never like that with anyone. Honestly, he's usually a mean son of a bitch, but put him around you, and he turns into a marshmallow."

Jaw set, Annabeth shook her head. "It's because he feels sorry for me."

"Why the hell would he feel sorry for you?"

"I was in full-freak mode when we met and now that I'm not, I think I'm realizing he's only been nice to me because he felt sorry for me."

"I hate to break it to you, but you're still in full-freak mode." Jamison dodged a punch and grinned. "Or freaky mode, I should say."

"Anything I want, he does it." Annabeth sighed. "It's hard for us to be quiet in the house."

"The rest of us appreciate the effort."

The sadness returned, and Annabeth squeezed her big brown eyes shut. "It hurts when Rowan says things like how we can go to his new condo and be as loud as we want. He doesn't realize that I can't. Like, I truly can't."

"Then tell him."

Annabeth shook her head. "I have to be smart about this."

Jamison rolled to a sitting position. "This is a 'til death do you part kind of situation. I'm calling it."

"And where's he going to take me on a honeymoon, Jamison? The backyard?" Annabeth sat up, and angrily unlaced her gloves. "There was a second when he mentioned going to his condo that I almost convinced myself I could do it. But then he explained it was a penthouse and on the top floor." Frustrated with the strings, she growled. "I've never even been in an elevator!"

"Okay, calm down." Jamison helped her get the gloves off. "It might take you a few times, but we know you'll eventually be able to do it."

"Yeah, after I vomit," Annabeth mumbled. "Probably on him."

Grabbing her shoulders, Jamison stared her friend straight in the eyes. "Rowan will not care. You could vomit on him, or whatever, and I'm telling you, that man would not care. He will still put on the wolf mask, and do you like a dirty slut."

"You suck at these heart-to-heart talks," Annabeth deadpanned. "It makes me miss Evie."

"Fine, I'll be totally honest. If you don't give this thing with Rowan a chance, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. This is special, and I don't want to see you throw it away because you're scared."

"I'm always scared!" Annabeth's shout startled them both, and she gathered herself to speak again. "I'm always scared. I'm not you. I'm not fearless. I can't just do things."

"I'm not fearless. I'm a walking basket case."

"You've been a walking basket case since you left Liam."

"Exactly."

"So, why would I want to risk turning into a basket case?" Annabeth tossed the gloves aside. "Only I wouldn't just turn into a basket case. Hell, I might even regress to where I lose all the progress I've gained."

Not knowing what else to do, Jamison hugged her. "Have I told you how amazing you are? You went to a party. A real party, with lots of people."

Returning the hug, Annabeth sucked in her sniffles. "And I freaking rocked it."

"Even better, you went all bad bitch afterward and made Rowan put on a wolf mask and rail you in the shop." Jamison sighed, resting her chin on Annabeth's shoulder. "All in the same night."

"I should have never told you about the mask."

Jamison pulled back to look at her. "Probably not, but can Liam and I borrow it sometime?"

"Don't be gross."

"Knock, knock." Jamison rapped her knuckles on the door of the media room's office. "Can I talk to you?"

Her father had his feet propped on the desk and quickly lowered them. "Shit, I thought you were Simone."

"Yeah, she would have your ass if she caught you in here with your feet on the desk."

"And she doesn't even come in here." He shuffled some papers aside. "Abe and I are the only ones who use this space."

Her nerves hitched in her stomach, and she sat on the small couch against the wall. "There's something I want to talk about."

"Liam is fine." He joined her, stretching his long legs outward. "I know it's hard, but Will spoke to him an hour ago and they should be back tonight."

She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, telling herself that if she could get through the story with Liam, she could do it again with her father. Everyone would eventually know, but she wanted him to hear it first.

"I have something to say," she said carefully. "Because we don't keep things from each other."

"What's going on?"

Staying strong, she walked him through her one-sided fight with Liam, and her fears about him not wanting to have a family.

"But you realize now how stressed Liam was at the time," he surmised. "I knew you guys would work it out, and honestly, I didn't think the separation would last longer than the weekend."

"I thought the same thing." The first real burst of fear hit, and she sucked in her bottom lip. "But something happened. Something really bad."

And she told him.

He cried with her. This big man who ruled his corner of the world cried with his daughter, listening intently as she babbled on about little pink dresses and tiny plaid shorts hidden in her closet.

"Look at me," he demanded gruffly.

She lifted her head, and he wiped the tears on her cheeks with his thumb. "We made a deal. Me, you, Samuel, and Selah. We made a deal to not hide from the hard stuff."

The deal. The one struck on their last trip together. An open-door policy to be maintained for life. They weren't allowed to hide the hard stuff from each other.

"Technically, Samuel broke the deal first with Evie."

"True," her father acknowledged just as Simone appeared in the doorway; her mothering senses triggered.

"Explain," she demanded, seeing their tears. "Now."

Simone was next on her list, but Jamison couldn't relive it again so soon. "Dad?"

"I'll tell her."

Getting up, Jamison paused in front of Simone as she left. "I'll be waiting in my room for you to come ask me three million questions."

Upstairs, she dug one of Liam's shirts out of his bag and slipped it on to wear to bed, needing him around her. An hour later, Simone slipped in and stretched on the bed next to her.

"Are you mad I didn't tell you?"

If Simone was anything, she was honest. "Yes."

And that was that.

"Do you think she would have liked me?" The question came out of nowhere, and Jamison snuggled closer. "I know my mom would have loved me, but would she have liked me?"

"Oh, honey." Simone's laugh started low and then rose to full volume. "Your mama would've not only have liked you, but she would have been in awe of everything you do."

"Really?"

"I love it when you do or say something others find outrageous. It gives me a little jolt of nostalgia and makes me feel like she's with us again."

"I always thought I was more like my dad."

"There's a little of him in there, too." Simone bopped her on the nose. "But you are your own woman, Jamison. A beautiful, wild creature no one will ever tame, and we wouldn't want it any other way."

"I'll second that," said a voice from the doorway. A voice she would know anywhere. "I've always liked wild women."

Jamison sailed across the room and straight into Liam's arms. Between kissing him and asking questions, she vaguely registered Simone closing the door as she left.

"You didn't call!"

Guiding them to the bed, Liam fell on top of her in an exhausted heap. A sweaty, stinky, exhausted heap.

"Oh my God, William," she wheezed. "You stink."

"Rowan smells worse." He nibbled her neck. "We chased this one guy through a farm on the Alabama border, and when Rowan lunged for him, he and the guy fell into a pig pen. I thought they were going to die."

"From falling into a pig pen?"

"Duh. A group of pigs can eat you in under five minutes."

She shouldn't laugh, but he was high off his fatigue, and knowing him, he probably hadn't eaten or slept since he left Haven House.

"I have so much to tell you." Deftly pinning her hands above her head with one hand, he wedged himself between her thighs. "But first, I need victory sex."

"No, first you need a shower." Bucking her hips, she rolled him off. "Shower. Talk. Sex. In that order."

He pouted, but trudged into the bathroom, pulling her with him. "Get me naked. I'm too tired."

Happy to oblige, she stripped his clothes off and started the shower. "Talk while you get clean."

"Thirty-nine total." Testing the water with his fingers, he gave her a lopsided grin. "Twelve of which were Fairweather employees."

"You're kidding."

"With a handful of them working under Rowan in his department." He got in, groaning when the warm water hit his skin. "Man, was he pissed."

"Is that why he tackled a guy in pig shit?"

"Did I say guy? It was actually a kid, and the best part."

"Why is tackling a kid the best part?"

"To clarify, the kid is seventeen and was trying to protect his mother."

"I'm even more confused."

Swiping the shower curtain aside, Liam grinned wildly. "His mother is the big, bad techie person working for Sinclair."

"Ex-military?"

"Nope." He disappeared behind the curtain again. "She's his freaking sister."

Whoa.

Jamison knocked the curtain aside. "His sister?"

"Kristina Scherer, formally Sinclair. A stay-at-home mom of two teenage sons by day and hacker by night." He tilted his head back to rinse the shampoo from his hair. "Turns out she has a juvie record a mile long. We just didn't have time to dig deep enough."

"Why would he put his sister and nephew in danger?"

"For one, he's a psychopath. But yeah, I see where your mind is going." He hauled her into the shower, making her squeal as the shirt she was wearing disappeared. "My guess would be it's the sister that got him involved with Zanmi."

"A family connection." Jamison thought for a moment. "But the breeding thing… I just don't know, Liam."

"We'll figure it out, but we can breathe a little easier for now." Eyes on what he was doing, he cupped her breasts, one in each hand. "That woman had a serious setup, and Rowan said taking it down would relieve a majority of our problems."

"Hmm."

Biting on his bottom lip, his thumbs circled her nipples. "No thinking tonight. We've talked. I've had a shower. Sex is next."

"But I don't think you're clean yet."

"You're so right." Pulling her to him, he rubbed their slippery chests together until she was laughing. "Grab the soap. I could use some a little lower."

"Pervert."

"Very much so, yes."