JARED (Lane Brothers Book 4) by Kristina Weaver Page A

but I have him pegged. Jared is a big softy, a man of more heart than anyone would ever guess, and right now he’s terrified for me.
    “I love you, Sugar Bear.”
    “No! Cupcake—”
    I rip the phone out of its bracket with a hiss and toss it out the window just as it starts ringing again, and I can almost hear his cursing from all this distance away.
    “You know what you’re doing, Cupcake,” I tell myself, pretending that it’s him talking to me and not my own craziness rearing its ugly head.
    Jared doesn’t know that the meeting is two days from now and somewhere my clues won’t immediately allude.
    I know that he’s read them by now, a lot sooner than I’d hoped, but the man is a freaking genius after all, but he’ll assume that I’m headed for the Midwest instead of going east like I currently am.
    I’ll make that meeting, even if have to sleep while I’m freaking driving.
    I spend the next six hours driving and thinking as the Aston eats up the miles with a surprising speed, and all I can think about is that I do not want to do this.
    I shouldn’t, Jared is so right. I’m headed into a trap, and from the rumors that were circulating before this all started, there has always been a Lane involved in this.
    I don’t believe that’s Roman, though, or rather I refuse to believe it till I see it with my own eyes or hear it from the man, himself.
    At first I thought they referred to Lynn, but everyone always called her Conrad, and she once broke a man’s nose for calling her Lane.
    It could all just be bullshit.
    Or you could be risking your life to save a man who doesn’t need saving but a bullet instead , my inner voice chirps fearfully, begging me to turn the car around and go back before it’s too late.
    “It’s already too late! You know that Trace’s ex is involved and you saw that SEAL commander, too, Paulette. You know what they’ll do if you don’t show up to cast the vote, idiot.”
    I’m pretty sure that I’ve snapped and am high on exhaustion when another hour passes and the road becomes too dark to drive another mile.
    I breathe out a sigh when a motel sign glitters ten minutes later and I pull into the lot with a groan and the urgent need to pee. It’s only when I get into the shabby, washed-out room that I allow the tears to overtake me and I fall onto the dirty comforter with a wail that echoes.
    ***
    Jared
    Jace, Case, and I pull up to the little motel around midnight and I almost cry when I see Frank’s Aston sitting in the lot, so out of place that I’m going to have to have a serious talk with my baby to teach her about blending in.
    That thought makes me snort and I resist the urge to laugh when I remember Ronny’s assertions that they chose Paulie as a mule because she blended so well.
    The beautiful fool sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere she fucking goes, just by being herself, hence the million-dollar car parked in front of her motel room, just begging to be noticed.
    “You two go get a room and stay low. I’m going to go get my girl,” I say, going for the door handle before Jace grabs me and pulls me back with a frown.
    “Cool it, bro. She’s already scared and emotional. Do not upset her any more than necessary. Her panic attacks are no joke,” he mutters and I roll my eyes with a grunt.
    “You think I don’t know that, Jace? I’d cut out my own tongue before I say something to scare her, man. You know that so cool your flow and chill. I’m just anxious to see her and make sure she’s alright,” I mutter, wrenching the door with a curse.
    Jace sighs and lets me go just as the car crawls to a halt and Case hops out to go pay for a room. I jump down, checking my piece and the extra clip at my hip before pulling a lockpick from my shirt and approaching her door on silent feet.
    The entire Patriots league could be watching me right now, and I wouldn’t care a bit because I need to get to her now, before the shaking inside turns me into a wreck.
    It’s