Game

Still. She hadn’t pla

All of that was true, but no matter how badly she’d bungled it, his reaction—his refusal to talk, his sulking in the other bed—pained her. Intellectually, she knew that it was fear driving him, that it had nothing to do with her. But emotionally and with all the yearning in her body, she felt rejected. Harshly.

When the plane landed, she hoped that maybe they could talk while waiting for Howie to pick them up, but to her absolute mortification, her father was waiting as they passed through security.

“I just need a second—” she started.

“You had a first, a second, and a third,” her father said with barely concealed rage. “No more chances. Come with me. Now.”

“But, Dad—”

“No buts, Conscience.”

Jazz cleared his throat. “Mr. Hall, if Co

“To what?” Dad said, rounding on Jazz, that rage now no longer concealed at all. “To do what, Jasper? Abduct her to Chicago this time?”

“I didn’t abduct her,” Jazz said with amazing calm. “In fact, I told her not to come at all.”

“I’m sure you did,” Dad said sarcastically. He loomed over Jazz like a hawk on a high branch. Co

“Dad, let’s go.” Co

Dad shook her off. “Listen to me, Jasper Dent. I haven’t said this before, but I’m saying it now: Stay the hell away from my daughter. Or else.”

“Or else what?” Jazz said with an infuriating, dead calm that belied his words. Co

Co

Oh, God. Jazz wanted Dad to take a swing at him. Maybe so that he could hit back and feel justified doing it. Maybe just because he was so pissed about everything that had and hadn’t happened in New York that he wanted to take it out on someone, anyone, and why not the man standing between him and Co

“Or else,” Dad said, in a threatening tone Co

And Jazz stared at her father. Co

Jazz was.

“You think you’re scary?” Jazz said quietly, his lips quirking in a little smile.

He said nothing else. He didn’t have to. Co

“Stop it!” Co

Her father pulled his arm from her.

“You don’t scare me,” he told Jazz, but his voice had mellowed just a tad.

And now Jazz smiled a full smile. It terrified Co

“You tell yourself that,” Jazz said. “That’s okay. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Dad,” Co

This time, he let her pull him away. Co

But for his part, Jazz just watched them go, still smiling.

CHAPTER 21

As soon as Co

But he had to admit that, deep down, there was a part of him that had loved the confrontation. He hadn’t been able to manipulate Montgomery—the pull of his pension and his career had outweighed Jazz’s “Jedi mind tricks”—but he’d come pretty close to getting Mr. Hall to take a swing at him. If Co

And then what? You beat the crap out of him? Or he beats the crap out of you? What, exactly, was your plan, you dumbass? Or is this just what you do now—you goad and manipulate people just for the hell of it.

No. Not anymore. People aren’t your playthings. People are real. People matter.

Not cool to go all Billy on him, Jazz. Not cool at all.

And the way he’d treated Co

“Hey, man!” Howie said, loping to his side. “Just saw Co

“Turns out the NYPD didn’t actually call for me,” Jazz reminded him as they headed to Howie’s car. “Why the hell couldn’t you keep my aunt away from Weathers?”

“Ninja, please! It’s Christmas break. I have family obligations. I couldn’t watch your aunt twenty-four-seven. Not that I would mind.”

Howie’s salacious tone was nothing new, but it triggered a memory for Jazz, of Samantha saying that Howie was “friendly.”

“What did you do while I was gone?” he asked.

“Do? Me? I didn’t do anything while you were gone.”

If Howie had been in an interrogation room, the cops would have charged him before the first word was out of his mouth. His poker face was nonexistent. He didn’t just look like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar; he looked like he’d been caught sticking his whole head in there.

“Dude! You hit on my aunt!”

“That depends on how you define ‘hit on.’ ”

“You totally hit on my aunt.”

“Was that wrong? Was I not supposed to do that?”

“You should think about what you just said. Think about it, Howie.”

“I’m just not seeing where I went wrong. For an older woman, she’s got a nice body, and she must moisturize like a mofo because her skin is—”

“Howie. She’s my aunt.”