The Boss Vol. 4 (The Boss #4) by Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott Page A

the first time they’ve been here,” she said, almost to herself.
    I didn’t shiver, but my blood definitely chilled. “Tell me what’s been happening.”
    As if she’d just realized I was standing beside her, she cut me a glance and just as swiftly looked away. “I didn’t say anything had been happening.”
    “Tell me, before the cops arrive,” I added, forcing my tone to gentle. I couldn’t drag things out of her with brute force. That didn’t work with Grace. God knows I’d tried to verbally strong-arm her more than a few times. As my assistant, she—
    Former assistant, I reminded myself. I’d fired her.
    And yet I’d gone back to her in a matter of days. She was like a siren, luring me to wreck on the rocks below. Standing here with the rocky beach only a few steps down the side set of stairs that led from the deck made the analogy particularly applicable.
    “It’s probably nothing.” Her haste to emphasize that told me it was likely very much something, and my gut churned with the knowledge she’d likely faced danger before. Worse, she’d faced it when I wasn’t there to protect her. Not that she was incapable of taking care of herself—in fact, Grace was one of the most resourceful people I knew, male or female—but it felt like a task that was meant for me. When we were together, I was the one who was supposed to shield her. It was my job. She’d already been on her own far too long. Had faced too much without someone to support her.
    Christ, Carson, did firing that shot knock something loose from your head? She’s not for you. This—whatever the fuck it is between you—isn’t about romance and flowers. Chemistry isn’t the same as a lifetime commitment.
    “Whatever it is, tell me and we’ll figure it out together.” As difficult as it was to keep my tone even, it was worth it to see the relief filter into her expression. She didn’t need to deal with me running off at the mouth half-cocked. Or hell, fully cocked, because I was so angry that I couldn’t be sure what might come out of my mouth next.
    Like asking my best friend for an alibi for tonight. An alibi, for fuck’s sake. As if he were a common criminal.
    As if I hadn’t grown up as one myself.
    Sins of the father always came home to roost. I didn’t know if they had yet in my brothers, Sebastian and Donovan, but I had a feeling that they were for me. Hell if I knew exactly why or how yet, but somehow I was almost certain this break-in had way more to do with me than Grace. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t gladly kill them for daring to intrude on her home. Even if it was technically now mine.
    The sirens neared and I closed my fingers around her wrist, tugging her that much closer. “What’s happened?”
    “Little things. Stuff not where it should be. The occasional missing item. And then last week, the day you were running on the beach—” She stopped, flushed. “I saw the glass on the built-in bookcase in the living room had been pried away. Some of the pieces of art I’d given Gram were broken on the floor. I figured it was an accident.” She lowered her gaze to where I held on tight. “It wasn’t an accident.”
    “It might’ve been,” I said, ignoring my gut instinct in favor of wanting to make that darkness lurking in her gaze vanish. I didn’t want to lie to her though. Not about this, when I’d already lied and deflected about so much. “But probably not.”
    She nodded and stepped back as red and blue light washed over the driveway as the police cars screamed into the drive. Marblehead PD wasn’t huge, and I was willing to bet this was one of the biggest—if not the biggest—call all year in town. Murders and robberies and most major crimes didn’t happen there.
    Except they had. And more and more, it was looking like they hadn’t just begun either.
    I tucked Grace behind me as one of the cops approached the back porch, hand on the butt of her weapon. Grace promptly delivered a kidney punch that