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“We’ll talk about Cat right after we talk about Atlee.”
Bastard.
“Joan called and expressed some concerns,” I told him.
“Good to know the SOIB isn’t on board with their assets whoring—”
“Whoa, brother. She’s doing her job.”
Jack huffed a furious breath.
“I know. That was a shit remark.”
It was. It was also telling.
“But the thought of her spending the night with that foul motherfucker is tearing me apart.”
“Welcome to my hell.”
“Your woman’s not spending the night with that ‘handsy’ fucker, Wilson,” he rightly pointed out.
“Neither is my woman trained, Jack. She’s going in blind and each time she courts getting caught.”
The mere thought of Atlee going behind closed doors with Martin made me want to rip the man’s heart out of his chest.
“Atlee’s smart.”
“So is Cat. That’s my point. She also knows what she’s doing. You need to remember she’s playing Martin, not the other way around. This will be over soon, we only have four days until the takedown.”
“Four days of Cat…” He stopped and blew out another breath. “You’re right. Four more days.”
Four more days until I left Atlee in Vegas.
My stomach knotted and my chest burned.
“How far out are you?” I asked.
“You mean how much longer until you see that Atlee’s fine with your own eyes?”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” I admitted.
“Ten minutes.” Then he tacked on. “Don’t be stupid, Wilson.”
“Come again?”
“Don’t be stupid and walk away from a woman who is crazy in love with you.”
Dead air made it impossible for me to comment.
Not that I had a comment to share.
Four days.
That was all I had left before I had to face my greatest fears.
Atlee deserved to know the truth.
After that, it was up to her.
