Bearly Hanging On (The Jamesburg Shifters #6)(64)

“Is bullshit!” Ryan spat. “I pay every single—”

“Yes, yes,” Jamie raised her hands. “Yes, you pay them. He was covering for you, Ryan. Covering for you right before he packed up half the town in school buses and went to fix up all those houses.”

“He what?”

“It’s a long story,” she said with a little smile. “But he made good on what he said. Or at least, is in the process of making good on it. Did you know there was dry rot all around the front door of that ridiculous house you live in?”

The blank look on Ryan’s face said it all.

“Do I look like a contractor?”

“In the flannel shirt that’s always at least halfway unbuttoned?” Jamie asked, running her hands along the inside of his as-described shirt. “I mean, I’ve never seen one with a chest quite like this, or that gets all furry when he gets excited, but...”

The two allowed themselves a brief laugh. “He’s trying, Ryan. Whatever you did to those diamond companies made a hell of an impression on Erik. I’ve never seen him get so, I dunno, full of purpose? I mean, yeah, he always keeps his word, but damn did he ever get excited about it this time.”

“I stole a half billion dollars’ worth of unrefined rocks, shipped them out of Congo in an unmarked train, and gave them all back to the communities that the mining industry destroyed. Every last damn one of them.”

Jamie’s jaw hit the floor.

“Every rock, every piece of dust. My father always kept a part for himself, and I did too for a long time, but then I realized it wasn’t my piece to keep. People bled for those stupid rocks, they died for them. Whole families lost. What right did I have?”

“Hold on,” she said. “Did you just say a half billion? Like with a ‘b’?”

“It took a lot of doing,” he said. “And it wasn’t just me, not by a long shot. That was the only time my dad, my uncle and I ever got along for more than an afternoon of football and Budweiser.”

Jamie had to laugh. “Boston?” she asked. “He was—”

“He’s a pilot. Or was, until his eyes got too bad. Flew the rocks out once they hit the Ivory Coast. Cote d’Ivoire if you want to be more correct.”

“Right, and more French,” Jamie added. “You’re serious right now.”

“My dad died six months afterward. My uncle thinks it was one of the warlords getting back at him, but I’m not so sure. He did smoke a lot too, though I don’t think cigarettes can shoot you.”

Jamie was just shaking her head, and began to pace slightly back and forth in a circle. “I mean, I knew you were a jewel thief, but...”

Ryan chuffed a laugh. “Not gonna lie, I did my fair share of petty break-ins and larceny, but that was mostly for the thrill. I never managed to get a handle on it, so after a couple short stints in juvie, I went big. I mean, relatively still petty, but big.”

Finding a rock tall enough to sit on, Jamie sat, still shaking her head. “You just called jewel thieving ‘relatively petty’ didn’t you?”

“Well,” he shrugged. “Just being honest.”

“Okay, so you stole a bunch of diamonds, processed them, and just gave them back? How? And I’m not even asking out of a sense of greed, I mean physically. How the hell did you do that? Boston flew the plane... but that doesn’t explain much of anything. How did you get into the country? How did you process it all?”

“Thick as thieves?” he said with a quirk of his eyebrow that once again irritated Jamie with how it made her stomach wiggle and her heart yearn. “It was a lot of work, lots of really ridiculous planning, but there it is.”

“And the house?”

“A gift. Or inheritance, however you want to put it. Dad died, I got a massive pile of money and I blew it all building that place, and setting my aunt and uncle up. I meant to leave, but, well—”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Jamie said, running her fingertip along the inside of Ryan’s wrist.

“You’re not the only one.”

Without warning, Jamie clenched the sides of her head. “Something... pounding,” she managed to eke out, “throbbing, I—”

Ryan didn’t hear it until a few seconds later, long enough for his concern for Jamie to reach an apex. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, dragged her further back into the cave, and threw a blanket that he kept there around her shoulders. “Hold your ears,” he said. “It’s getting closer.”

“What is?” she asked, grimacing at the throbbing, pulsing sound that flooded her ears. “What is it?”

A flood light burst through the mouth of their safe haven. Ryan pulled her under his arm, trying to blot out the sound as he squinted at the light. “I knew it was going to happen,” he hissed.

Jamie was still writhing around, and still clutching the sides of her head, even as she nuzzled against her bear and tried to get ahold of herself.

“Mister Drake,” the voice came. It was calm, cool, and so damn disconnected it could only belong to one person. “Good to see you again.”

“You son of a bitch,” Ryan growled. Jamie, clutching his arm, felt the fur start to slide out as loafer heels clicked on the stone.