The Dragon (G.O.N.Y. - Double Dragon) Page 10

  “And Bastian?”

  “Threw a tantrum and wore himself out in less than an hour.”

  Jezebel chuckled.

  “The moral of this story is although you will love your children more than your own life, put them in their own beds as soon as you can.”

  “Right.” She couldn’t stop smiling.

  “I’m serious, Jezebel,” Hannah murmured, holding her gaze. “Husbands and wives should always have that private time without the children.”

  “I’m not married, Hannah,” she reminded easily.

  The older woman lifted a brow, smiled like she had a secret and nodded. “Right. Sometimes, I forget that.”

  Before she could ask what the other woman meant by that, Hannah asked, “How’s your morning sickness?”

  She shrugged. “Some days are better than others.”

  Hannah patted her hand comfortingly. “I was the same way until the sixth month. When I hit that milestone, the sickness went away.”

  “Maybe I’ll be so lucky.” She wished.

  “And then came the ankle and foot swelling, the back pain, the hot and cold flashes…”

  At Jezebel’s groan, Hannah chuckled. “But it’s all worth it when you see your baby and if he looks anything like Ramsey, he’ll be so precious you’ll forget to breathe.”

  Jezebel instantly looked away, feeling a bit sheepish, though she had no reason to. It was Ramsey’s job to inform his mother of her impending grandmother-dom, which it seemed he had. “Ramsey told you?”

  Hannah’s eyes narrowed, before she lifted a brow. “Told me?”

  Jezebel stroked her belly through the stretchy cotton shirt. “That the baby’s his?”

  “No.” At Jezebel’s look of confusion, Hannah smiled. “Ramsey didn’t have to tell me. I knew.” When she only continued to stare at the older woman, she sighed. “I had a hunch, a gut feeling, when I brought you breakfast in New York.”

  “But you’ve never met me before. How could you…?”

  “I’d never met you before, but I have seen you before, Jezebel.” She sighed and her eyes grew haunted. “You came to Ramsey’s apartment the night of Lily’s funeral.” Jezebel tensed as she remembered the night Ramsey had broken her heart and almost destroyed her soul. “I heard voices and I went to investigate.”

  There was a pregnant pause as both women stared at each other. Jezebel broke the silence first. “Ah, so you heard everything.”

  “Not everything.” Her eyes were gentle, as was her voice. “Some things.”

  “Hm. Well.”

  “That was when I knew you loved him. It was in your face, your eyes.”

  Jezebel grew defensive. She didn’t like where the conversation was headed. “That was then.”

  Hannah nodded, but asked softly, “Just then?”

  “What are you asking, Hannah?” she sniped.

  “I’m sorry,” the other woman murmured, giving her an apologetic smile. “Sometimes I’m too much of a meddlesome old lady.”

  Jezebel felt bad. Hannah had been nothing but warm, gracious, receptive, and kind, and she’d just snapped at her like a rabid animal.

  “No, I’m sorry.” She smiled. “I don’t want to talk about that night.”

  “Of course you don’t. I won’t bring it up again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But may I say one more thing?”

  Jezebel nodded, albeit reluctantly. The conversation had been light so far and she’d enjoyed it. Hannah was now threatening that with her statements and questions.

  “My son—sons—are complex men, but Ramsey is more complicated than you can ever imagine. He’s a man first, but he’s also the head of this family, and with that comes many different responsibilities.” Hannah closed her eyes and sighed. “My son is a good man. He does what he must to protect his family, and he always will.” She blinked and when she opened her eyes, Jezebel saw that they were misted. “But I’ve never seen my son defeated until the night I watched him push you away.”

  Jezebel shook her head. Hannah had misinterpreted what she saw that night. And although she didn’t want to talk about this, she ended up saying, “He pushed me away because he wanted it that way, Hannah.”

  The older woman didn’t respond for long seconds, and Jezebel took a sip of her now lukewarm tea.

  “Do you really believe that?” Hannah asked softly.

  “Yes.” Her response was immediate. There was no doubt in her mind that Ramsey pushed her away because she’d never mattered to him. Everything they’d experienced prior to the FBI raid had meant little to him. He’d been in it for sex, and although she knew better, was smarter than that, she let him convince her that he was different, that he loved her. The familiar ache in her chest returned and she tried unsuccessfully to push it away.

  “Would a man who doesn’t care allow you unrestricted access to his apartment and bring you to his ancestral home?” Hannah prodded.

  Jezebel snorted. The only reason Ramsey had come for her was because he’d somehow suspected she was pregnant with his child. The leak who’d informed him of her location had probably told Ramsey of her doctor visits. She remembered his angry response when she’d confirmed it was his baby and frowned.

  “Maybe you should talk to him,” Hannah began in a soft, gentle tone.

  “I think it’s time to change the subject.”

  “And you’re right of course. I’m doing my old lady meddling again. I blame it on old age.” Hannah lifted the shiny silver teapot and poured more of the steaming dark liquid into her cup, adding a dash of milk and brandy, before stirring with a teaspoon. After taking a sip, she put the cup on its saucer, leaned forward with a twinkle in her eyes, and asked, “So, have you thought of baby names?”

  ***

  That was how Ramsey found them, heads practically touching as they spoke in hushed tones and laughed with one another.

  At the entrance to the indoor garden, he froze. From this angle, he had a clear view of Jezebel’s face and she looked so relaxed, so at ease, it was almost like peering into the past. The suspicious glint that was usually present in her brown eyes was gone, leaving behind only warmth, sunshine. He was transported back to the block party, where he’d barbequed and played basketball shirtless, all to her delight. He could hear her cheering him on, booing the other team when they managed to steal the ball, telling him in explicit detail what he was going to get for winning the game. He remembered her dress, he loved those dresses because they allowed for easy access, pushed to her waist in a matter of seconds before he lifted her, braced her against the bedroom wall and—

  “Ramsey!”

  He blinked and focused. His mother had turned in her chair and was waving at him, a large smile on her face. Jezebel, on the other hand, had closed up. Her face was no longer warm, her eyes no longer as open or expressive, and she sat back, tense. She seemed the cool businesswoman once more.

  Moving into the garden, he was instantly assaulted by the heat. Only his mother could persuade his grandfather to install a realistic indoor garden with spring weather to get her through the winter. He considered removing his jacket before deciding against it. He’d be leaving soon anyway.

  Hannah leaned up when he was close to her and he brushed her cheek with his lips in greeting. “Omma.”

  Turning to the woman across from her, he dipped his head. “Jezebel.”

  She returned his greeting with a cool nod.

  “Were you looking for either of us?” Hannah asked immediately, smiling between the two of them. “Jezebel and I were having tea and catching up.”

  “I was looking for both of you.” He kept his eyes on Jezebel, who stared at him in the most undisturbed manner, as if he was a waiter asking for her order. Even a waiter would have seen more warmth. “I wanted to know if you’d join me for lunch.”

  He’d actually been looking for Jezebel. It had been three days since he’d brought Jezebel to his home and he’d seen her once since their initial arrival. They
had important things to discuss, particularly concerning the baby, but he’d been giving her time to adjust.

  “I’m actually—”Jezebel began, but his mother interrupted with an excited, “That sounds like a great idea, Ramsey!” She looked at the watch on her hand. “We’ve been sitting out here for two hours already. It’s almost two o’clock and all we’ve had is tea and biscuits.” She turned to Jezebel. “And what about your sister? Has she eaten yet? She must be starving…”

  And that was how they all ended up around the table for lunch.

  Hannah pulled rank and told everyone to come down, sit down, and eat. In addition to himself, Hannah and Jezebel, Delilah, Bastian, Sarah, and Vince were all there. For the first time in years, the staff actually had to prepare the table for more than two. From the clinking of silverware meeting porcelain, and the easy conversation, mostly dominated by his mother, a stranger who walked in on them would think they were a happy family at dinner.

  “So, brother, how long are we required stay here?”

  And just like that, the ease fell away, allowing tension to reign supreme. Hannah’s head whipped around as she shot Bastian a quelling look, but his brother only leaned forward, lifted a brow in Ramsey’s direction, and waited.

  Ramsey placed the raised fork to his lips, and chewed slowly on the galbi, savoring it. The cook had been hand selected by his grandfather, removed from a popular Korean restaurant in Seoul, and paid twice the salary to prepare delicacies for the family. He’d been with them for long years, but each time Ramsey ate his galbi, it felt like the first.

  “Until it’s no longer necessary.”

  “Of course,” Hannah murmured, a slight edge in her voice. She purposely cut her eyes away from Bastian. “So, Delilah, Jezebel tells me you were a model…”

  “And when exactly would that be?” Bastian asked, his voice low, almost easy. The hard glint in his eyes gave him away though. Whatever tension had existed between them prior to Lily’s death had escalated. The only difference was that now his brother was very sober…and more dangerous for it.

  “Are you in a rush to return to New York, Bastian? Is there something compelling you have to do there?”

  When his brother didn’t answer, Ramsey picked up his wine glass, took a sip of the aged Merlot and continued, “Work?”

  Considering Bastian was the Vice President of Marketing for Ramsey’s company, it was obviously a rhetorical question.

  “As a matter of fact, yes, there’s something I have to do there.”

  At Ramsey’s easy lift of a brow, Bastian did the same.

  “You can both discuss that after lunch,” Hannah interrupted, her voice soft but firm. “Now, as I was saying, Delilah…?”

  Ramsey didn’t hear the rest of his mother’s conversation because his attention was solely on his brother. When he’d decided to bring Jezebel here, he’d opted to bring his entire family. It was a precautionary measure and for their own safety, but with Bastian, it had been more. Ramsey wanted to monitor his movements, interact with him, see if his brother’s petty jealousy had spiraled into something more.

  Bastian had always resented him, and in some ways, Ramsey understood why. He was the firstborn. More had been expected from him, and when he’d excelled, he’d been praised. Bastian had been praised too, but even at their closest, before Ramsey had left South Korea to pursue his studies, Bastian had been jealous. For most of his life, Ramsey dismissed it, but he’d started taking note in the past years. Bastian’s marriage to Sarah had ripped wide the small divide between them. It had only grown with Lily’s birth…and death. Now, here they were; brothers, strangers.

  As if sensing his thoughts, Bastian lifted a brow and smirked. In seconds, he dismissed Ramsey and turned his attention to Jezebel, who was staring at her sister as Delilah explained something to his mother.

  “Jezebel,” Bastian began, lifting his wine glass midair and holding it there. Ramsey tensed, his grip on his knife and fork tightening.

  Hearing her name, Jezebel turned to Bastian, seated at the opposite end of the table and directly across from Ramsey. In that moment, Ramsey felt the urge to get up and put himself between them. He remained where he was.

  “Are congratulations in order?” he asked in a loud whisper that no doubt carried to the servants.

  “Excuse me?” Even as Jezebel’s confusion washed over him, Ramsey knew where his brother was going. He dropped both knife and fork, and the loud clatter brought a few gasps from the ladies.

  “Well, are they?” Bastian forged ahead, casting a flippant look at her protruding belly. “You’re obviously pregnant, so someone knocked you up, more than likely, my brother—”

  “Sebastian Stone, if you say another word…!” Hannah began furiously only to be cut off by the screech of wood scraping wood as Ramsey pushed his chair back and stood.

  “Get up.” He didn’t raise his voice, but no one would doubt it was a command.

  “Why?” Bastian lounged back in his chair and lazily looked up at him. He seemed bored.

  “Now.”

  Taking a large mouthful of his wine, Bastian looked around the table and slowly pushed from his seat. “Please excuse us, ladies…” As an afterthought, he added, “Vince.”

  Ramsey walked from the dining room without another word, expecting him to follow.

  ***

  “What the hell was that?” Delilah muttered as soon as Jezebel closed the door behind her.

  They were now back in Jezebel’s room after what turned out to be an interesting lunch, though not because of the tension between herself and Ramsey. No, whatever was going on between Ramsey and Bastian had taken center stage despite Hannah’s attempt to divert the attention from them.

  “I don’t know.” She truly didn’t. A memory surfaced of Ramsey and Bastian in a tense situation in his apartment in New York, but she quickly dismissed it. Despite Bastian’s attempt to drag her into it, this had nothing to do with her.

  Moving over to the bed, Jezebel sat down. Within moments, she’d propped the pillows behind her and was lifting first one, then the other foot onto the bed. Shimmying her body, she made herself as comfortable as possible and stared at the flat screen facing her.

  “Comfortable?” Her sister asked with a raised brow and a smirk. Jezebel grinned. Delilah grabbed the TV-remote from the foot of the bed, and easily plopped down beside her.

  “What are we watching today?”

  Jezebel shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” She was having a case of food coma. Lunch had been delicious, as usual, and she’d had two portions, one for herself and the other for the baby. Instead of wine, her glass had been filled with sweetened ice tea, and dessert had been a generous helping of creamy cheesecake topped with a delicious strawberry sauce. It was a miracle she could move at all.

  Delilah had turned the TV on, a movie was playing, and Jezebel was very close to falling asleep when her sister spoke, “Jez…?”

  “Hm?”

  “Do you think we made the right decision, coming here?”

  Turning to face her sister, Jezebel nodded slowly. “Uh huh.”

  Delilah frowned and didn’t look convinced. “I mean, he’s the reason we’re in this situation.”

  She nodded again. “Didn’t have a choice.”

  After a long yawn, Jezebel closed her eyes. Her lids were heavy, her body warm. The room itself was warm…and conducive to sleeping.

  “What if we did?”

  “Did what?” She pushed further down the bed until she was lying down with a pillow under her face.

  “What if we had a choice?”

  “What are you talking ‘bout, Lilah?” she murmured sleepily, stroking the side of her belly through her shirt.

  “I called him.”

  “What?” Jezebel moaned. “…let’s talk later…”

  “Jezebel?” Her body was moving as if someone was shaking her. She opened her eyes to find Delilah hovering above her with wide eyes.

  “What?” She pushed onto
her elbows. “What’s wrong?”

  “I called him.” Delilah moved away, but only slightly.

  “What are you talking about, Lilah?” Jezebel looked around her room to see if someone else was in there, but it was just the two of them.

  “I called Brandon.”

  Jezebel closed her eyes, opened them, shook her head, and then asked her sister to repeat herself.

  “I called Brandon,” Delilah rushed out. The TV went silent as she continued in a whisper, “Jez, don’t get mad, but look around. We’re in South Korea with Ramsey Stone, the head of a Korean gang! We aren’t allowed to leave the house and no one knows we left the country. He could kill us and no one would even know we were here. I mean, we’re black Americans in South Korea…I don’t even know where we are except somewhere in Gwangju and we got here by small plane after taking a large plane to Seoul—”

  “I’m pregnant,” Jezebel hissed, disbelief giving away to anger.

  “What?”

  Jezebel pushed herself up and glared down at her sister. “I’m pregnant, Lilah, with Ramsey’s child! He’s not going to kill us!”

  “And after the baby’s born?” Her sister demanded. “What then, Jezebel? We know things about his gang, his family. We see things while we’re here.”

  Jezebel groaned. “Lilah…no. I told you not to tell anyone where we were!” When they’d arrived, Ramsey had told her she had free reign of his home, access to phones and computers, but until he found out exactly who was after her, she’d have to keep a low profile. By that, he meant not telling the world where she was.

  “Jezebel, you’re not thinking clearly,” Delilah muttered, firming her voice and staring evenly at her. “You’re hormonal, and you’re probably still in love with him.”

  “Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Jezebel screeched, and then lowered her voice when Delilah looked at the door. “I’m thinking very clearly! This is as clear as it gets when it comes to my thinking! We almost died while under the protection of US Marshalls and the FBI!”

  “And—”

  “And there’s a leak, Lilah!” She ran a hand through her hair. “Someone in one of those agencies